Music V: Somewhere in the Circle
by Te
1/99

Disclaimers: They are so not mine that it stopped 
being funny, like, years ago. 

Spoilers: None.

Summary: Mac's arm is better.

Ratings Note: NC-17 for language and m/m 
interaction. 

Author's Note: You have no idea how happy I am that I
finally got to write this. In chronological order:

"Music"
"Music II: Over My Head"
"Music III: Hear It So Clear"
"Music IV: Little Ones Who Stumble"
"Music V: Somewhere in the Circle"

I'm not sure if it's necessary to read all those others 
first, but it would certainly make me happy.

Acknowledgments: To Sister Blue for inspiring... a lot. 
To Rae for fine audiencing, and to Spike for being a 
lovely and talented beta.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Music V: Somewhere in the Circle
by Te
thete1@earthlink.net
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Vic watched the doctor put Mac through his paces and 
frowned. It had only been ten days, and he was positive, 
absolutely *positive* that the shoulder wouldn't be better. 
Only ten days, but a difficult ten days. 

Whispering feverishly in Mac's ear the morning they'd both 
arrived uncharacteristically early for the meeting, 
spending the rest of the day with his shirt out. So much 
for work hours...

Watching the way Mac's eyes burned when Vic had returned 
from yet another case that had nearly killed him. He 
understood -- he wanted to reaffirm some life, too. 

Trying not to notice Li Ann and the Director's matching 
smirks as he took too long helping Mac get untangled when 
the sling got caught on a snag. Vic had been pressed close 
and could feel the light tremor that probably wasn't 
visible to anyone but him. 

Jerking off all those nights he'd stayed away from Mac's 
apartment because he knew there was no way they wouldn't 
have re-injured the shoulder otherwise, letting Mac talk 
about all the things he wanted to do and have done to him. 
He could hear the other man's hand moving on his cock, and 
the images were always enough to send him over the edge.

Vic felt like he was on the edge of something, a razor 
tugging just short of the killing stroke on his belly, 
blood high and aching for release.

"... there, Vic? Hellooo..."

He snapped back to himself with a jerk, finding himself 
face to face with a grinning Mac.

"Where were you just now?"

"How. Is. The. Arm."

Mac caught his gaze for a long moment and Vic was treated 
to the sight of Mac's eyes darkening as he watched. After a 
small stretch of forever, he finally spoke. "Have to be 
easy on it, half-duty, just fine, let's go."

Vic turned immediately and headed for his truck, knowing 
the other man was hard on his heels by the fact that he 
could feel him in his spine. His own place was closer, so 
he went that way by instinct, barely managing to resist the 
urge to keep his eyes on the rearview, not even trying to 
avoid breaking the speed limit. 

Tire screech on pavement and that was Mac pulling up behind 
him. Vic still didn't look, just bounded up the stairs to 
his apartment. He opened the door and walked in, nape 
tingling at the sex standing just behind him. Vic started 
to turn but Mac halted him by taking that last step closer, 
molding himself to his back and letting his hands roam. 

Barely inside the door and Vic could already feel the few 
shreds of sanity he'd managed to maintain slipping away at 
the feel of hot breath on his ear and the slow creep of 
cooler air on his chest as Mac undid his shirt. 

"I want to touch you, too, Mac..."

The other man gasped softly and began to rock against his 
ass, one hand suddenly jerking away from the buttons to 
grab a nipple. Vic let his head fall back on Mac's shoulder 
and immediately had his mouth claimed, awkward and messy 
and obscenely loud. 

"Christ, Vic, there are so many things I want to do to you --" 
He cut himself off, kissing his way over Vic's cheek, 
down to his throat and lingering there. His lips were warm 
and soft, the teeth behind them sharp. Mac was squeezing 
one nipple rhythmically, sending jolt after jolt to Vic's 
cock. His other hand was fumbling at his jeans, knuckles 
occasionally brushing over Vic's trapped erection.

It finally occurred to Vic that he could do more than just 
lay back bonelessly and take it, and he brought his own 
hands to help, getting his jeans open and his cock free of 
the boxers. Long, clever fingers tangled with his own 
pleasantly for a moment before taking him in hand and 
stroking. It was the first time Mac had really touched his 
cock, and Vic thrust helplessly into the tightening fist, 
slamming back against the other man's lean hips. 

Vic knew he wouldn't last long like this but he couldn't 
make himself warn Mac, not when a glance at the man's face 
revealed him watching the movement of their hands on his 
cock intently, eyes black in the questionable light and 
hardly blinking. Vic reached back and grabbed Mac's hip, 
trying to pull him harder against his ass. 

The other man complied, hand leaving Vic's chest just long 
enough to yank his pants down a little further and then 
grinding with wonderful accuracy against the crack of his 
ass. Rough fabric and heat from behind, merciless fingers 
working his cock and nipples and Vic knew he was moaning 
but couldn't stop. He rolled his head to the side and 
pressed against Mac's cheek. It was building, rolling 
through him --

"Do it, Vic."

 -- he felt himself stiffen and Mac was devouring his mouth 
again, catching and swallowing his cries as he lost it 
hard, jerking helplessly. His knees were ready to give out 
within moments, but lean arms wrapped themselves around his 
waist and held on tight, Mac never stopped rocking against 
him, still obviously hard, nuzzling his neck. Vic slid his 
hands along the other man's forearms, unable to communicate 
in anything beyond strokes and squeezes.

After a while, Mac worked his way back up to his ear again, 
used his teeth to tug on his earring once, sharply. 

"Round one."

They stood there for another few moments, and Vic caught 
his breath, encouraging his lungs to be efficient if for no 
other reason then to be able to take in the air tinged 
heavily with the scents of clean sweat and sex. When he 
could more or less see again, he pulled at Mac's arms until 
he was coldly free again, took one deliciously sticky hand 
and led him back toward the bedroom.

Vic closed the door behind him and pressed Mac against it, 
kissing him deeply before backing away just far enough to 
be able tug his sweater over his head. He placed his hand 
against the other man's chest and *pushed*, not hard but 
leaning into it a little, pressing Mac a little further 
back against the door. Vic reveled in the hair tickling his 
palm, the fast thud of Mac's heartbeat. 

"Round two--"

"Will result in me ruining these pants if you don't fucking 
hurry, Vic."

Vic was quietly amazed Mac could speak so clearly 
while gritting his teeth like that, and he looked up to 
catch Mac's eyes. Dark and glittering, small lines at the 
corners... The man was tensed up, clearly restraining 
himself. Vic leaned in and kissed him again, sucked hard on 
his tongue before just thrusting his own into the other 
man's mouth. Mac groaned and tried to work himself against 
him, but Vic pulled back and slid his hands between them, 
feeling spare muscle bunch and flex as he moved up, roaming 
the lean chest--

"Bastard--" Whispered against his mouth before another kiss 
took them both. 

Vic continued his small journey, rubbing Mac's shoulders 
gently, unable to resist pushing him back again before 
leaning in for another, and another kiss. Down whipcord 
arms, long and trembling, moving slow, unable to place the 
sudden urge toward extended sadism but also unable to stop. 
When he got to the hands clawing at the door behind them, 
he clenched them in his own. 

"Vic..."

Low and hoarse, trusting but still needing to ask. Vic took 
the kiss-bruised lips with his own one more time and sank 
to his knees. It wasn't easy undoing Mac's pants with their 
hands tangled, but some favors demanded returning. Mac 
thrust steadily, and Vic had to slow down to savor the heat 
of the other man's jeans, just the right side of being wet 
with pre-come. 

He shook Mac's hands free for just long enough to yank his 
jeans down around his ankles, rubbed his cheek against the 
spreading stain on the other man's grey boxer-briefs before 
turning to suck at it, hard and sudden. Mac cried out above 
him, but Vic was sitting on his heels again before the 
other man could tangle his hands in his hair. His own cock 
twitched at the sharp taste, mouth flooding in 
anticipation. He pulled the briefs down, careful of Mac's 
erection which bobbed free at first provocation. 

Long and somewhat thin, elegant as the rest of him even 
dark with blood and leaking steadily. Vic licked his lips 
and molded his hands to the subtle curves of Mac's pelvis. 
He looked up to see Mac staring at him wide-eyed, hands 
again scrabbling at the door. 

"Grab my wrists."

Mac's hands settled on his wrists shakily, bouncing off 
once as if he was hot enough to burn before he felt Mac's 
fingers curl around and grip. This much power was 
dangerous, probably wrong, and the only thing he could 
console his conscience with was the thought that Mac could 
reduce him to the same state without breathing hard. Vic 
turned back to the other man's cock, lapping the fluid away 
from the head with slow care, following the twitches as 
best he could. 

"Vic please..."

He sucked in the head, feeling it slip smooth and heavy 
over his sensitized lips, tightening his hold on Mac's hips 
when he instinctively tried to get more of himself into 
Vic's mouth. Strangled cry from above, followed by a steady 
stream of curses and pleas as Vic tried to drill his tongue 
into Mac's slit. He moved one hand down to cup the other 
man's balls, bringing Mac right along with him. 

The sac was tightening in his palm and Vic stroked and 
toyed with it as he sank down further on Mac's cock, 
feeling himself stretched with it, remembering the way Mac 
had moaned when he'd done this on just his fingers...

"Oh, God your mouth don't stop--!"

And there it was again, shamelessly needful and without 
both hands Vic couldn't keep him from thrusting and didn't 
try, swallowing when the tip hit the back of his throat and 
trying to remember to breathe. He pushed his tongue against 
the underside and made it stiff, knowing his own hips were 
working themselves into air.

Mac came with a long, shuddering groan, squeezing Vic's 
wrists hard enough to crush the bones together painfully 
for a moment. Vic swallowed some, but let the rest spill 
out of his mouth messily, needing to feel himself marked in 
some way -- however superficially -- by this. And then Mac 
was pulling him up, crushing him into a kiss before licking 
him clean. He was almost disturbingly animated, cock still 
half-hard and nudging his own. 

Another kiss while Mac toed off his own shoes to kick his 
pants from his ankles, and it occurred to Vic that he might 
have teased too long. 

Mac used his body to push him to the bed, crouching over 
him for only a moment before moving down his body to pull 
off Vic's shoes and socks. The jeans and boxers were next, 
removed with less care then speed. And then Mac took him 
deep without preamble, pushing Vic's legs further apart. 
Vic bucked hard, pulling his knees up and planting his feet 
on the coverlet to give his partner easier access. 

Fucking Mac's mouth was like sliding into a furnace hidden 
behind plush softness -- dangerously hot, hopelessly 
addictive. Weeks, seemingly years worth of promises were 
more than kept as Mac proceeded to show him how it was 
done. He didn't seem to care about the hands pushing him 
further down on Vic's cock, letting him fuck his face, 
moving with the snap.

And then there was a hand on his hip, less demanding then 
steadying and a small, firm pressure on his ass. Vic did 
his best to slow his hips down to let Mac get his finger 
in, wanting him to hit that spot --

"Christ yes, Mac--"

-- and getting his wish with the brief explosion of color 
behind his eyelids that set his hips to snapping again, 
searching ruthlessly for the pleasure of both hot, willing 
mouth and crooked finger. Mac eased his hand off again and 
let him go. Vic wasn't sure he was more than his cock and 
ass anymore, and didn't care if he wasn't. His second 
orgasm hit like a gunshot to the base of the spine and 
everything resembling thought was blown away by the sound 
of his own cries and the impossibly ratcheting pleasure. 

Vic didn't open his eyes until Mac's tongue slipped into 
his mouth for a thorough and successful attempt to let him 
taste himself. Mac had his own eyes open, watching for his 
reaction so intently that Vic had to close his again with a 
moan. His mind felt as sensitized as his cock, and the look 
was just too much to take. 

Finally, Mac draped himself over him with a satisfied sigh, 
running one hand idly down the center of his chest. His 
shirt was still on, half buttoned and gaping. Vic sincerely 
hoped the Director's tape had run out. 

"What next, Vic?"

"Mmmph. Sometime after I regain consciousness, round four."

"I have to wait until you're conscious?"

"Well, I'd *like* to be able to enjoy it..."

"There's always round five... and six... and et cetera."

"Don't we have to go back to work at some point?"

Mac snickered and kissed him on the side of the neck. "Tell 
the Director you're making sure I don't strain my shoulder 
again. It sounds just altruistic enough for your 
reputation."

"Asshole."

"Yup."

Vic yawned and stretched, made an aborted attempt to shift 
enough to get the covers over them. He assumed that, 
eventually, cold would lend him enough motivation to do it.

"Vic?"

"Hmmm...?"

"I assume this means we're friends."

"Yes."

"Good."

Vic slipped his arm under Mac's shoulders, pulled him 
closer. 

"Vic?"

"Yeah?"

"If you want to be lovers, *you* have to be the one who 
gets shot."

~~~~
End.
~~~~