Desperation

The house was dark. There might be the hint of a candle flicker here and there around the edge of the blinds, but nothing ventured further. And the music … it was darker than the house ever could have been. It shocked the young sharpshooter with its desperation, and it shook him with its hopelessness.

you let me violate you
you let me desecrate you
you let me penetrate you
you let me complicate you

help me, i broke apart my insides
help me, i've got no soul to sell
help me, the only thing that works for me

help me, get away from myself

Vin stepped onto the threshold of the townhouse and pressed a hand to the door, his forehead following shortly after. Closing his eyes, he absorbed the vibration of the solid techno-bass and waited, knowing his sometime-lover wouldn't hear his knock until a break in the chilling noise.

i wanna fuck you like an animal
i wanna feel you from the inside
i wanna fuck you like an animal
my whole existence is flawed
you get me closer to god

No… that was the problem. He knew that now. Ezra didn't wanna fuck him like an animal. He wanted to make love to him like anything but.

Vin cursed himself for the hundredth time since the Southerner had thrown open the door to his Pergatorio apartment and found him buried deep inside an old friend. He had seen the raw anguish in Ezra's eyes before the conman slammed an indifferent mask into place. The thick accent that accompanied the polite apology before Ez turned on his heel and left the doorway testified to the depth of emotion the cool words hid. It had taken the drama of that scene for Vin to finally get it.

Now, two hours later, Vin was ready to come to Ezra with some semblance of knowledge of his own feelings. The love was there, just below the surface, and he hoped it wasn't too late to ask the gentleman agent to help him uncover it.

you can have my isolation
you can have the hate that it brings
you can have my absence of faith
you can have my everything

help me, tear down my reason
help me, it's your sex i can smell
help me, you make me perfect
help me, become somebody else

Vin squeezed his eyes tighter at the despair echoed in those lyrics. That he hurt this vulnerable man so badly tore at him like nothing had since his ma had died. That's what scared him so much. He wasn't sure he wanted to feel anything so deeply again.

Suddenly the song ended and he had seconds to act before the music began again. Stepping back, he took a deep breath and knocked. The silence held until, suddenly, the door opened and cool green eyes looked at him accusingly. Green and red, he noticed.

"Mr. Tanner." Was that a slight slur he heard? The aroma of alcohol certainly was strong enough.

"Ez," Vin said quietly. "Can I come in?"

Ezra backed from the door and executed a sweeping gesture of welcome into the dark interior.

"By all means …"

Stepping inside, Vin nodded just as politely. He wasn't entirely sure, but he thought the mumbled words that followed had something to do with 'completing the humiliation'.

Vin took in the mess around him, shocked for the third time that night. Ezra's usually pristine townhouse looked like it had been searched by a warrant team with a bad temper.

"Excuse the condition of my humble abode, Mr. Tanner. I was doing a bit of … redecorating."

Vin's eyes closed for a moment, then he turned to look at the obviously intoxicated Georgian. Involuntarily, his focus dropped to just-licked lips.

"Ez … I'm so sorry. I didn' mean for ya ta …"

Green eyes narrowed slightly as the heavily accented voice interrupted, "There is no need for apology, Mr. Tanner. It was I who displayed deplorable manners by entering your home without announcing myself."

"Ezra … I want ya to feel at home in my house." Just above a whisper.

The sharpshooter sighed. "Ez I … I regret what I did. I ran into that old friend in the bar and … well you know the rest."

Green eyes watched.

"I know, now, I was just missin' you."

Green eyes blinked.

"No need to fabricate to save my feelings, Mr. Tanner. I am quite capable of understanding that what we have is a casual, sexual relationship. That is all I've ever had, so I'm quite well versed in the genre."

"I ain't fabricatin' nothin', Ezra. I wanna do this. Just me 'n you. I … I haven't cared about anybody this way in a long time. It's kinda scary."

Green eyes stared, hardened, softened … moistened.

"Mr. Tan … Vin … I …"

That Ezra was at a loss for words shook Vin almost as much as the nasty, biting lyrics of the song that had been playing when he arrived. He reached a hand out and laid it carefully on the Southerner's arm.

"I'm gonna go, Ez. You think about it. Sleep on it. I'll call ya tomorrow."

Vin walked to the door and reached for the knob. On a whim he turned his head for one last look … and saw the hand reaching out toward him, green eyes beseeching.

"Don't leave, Vin." Ezra choked out with difficulty.

Vin grabbed the hand like it was a lifeline in a stormy sea and pulled the misty-eyed, weary man into his arms. Cradling Ezra against him, he held him tight, silently cursing himself again and again for betraying this man as so many others had before. He would spend a long time trying to make up for it.

There were no tears, no words; just an embrace that conveyed more with its strength than mere conversation could have. Finally, tired of standing, Ezra stepped away, smoothing a hand down the sharpshooter's arm and tugging on a finger. He led the Texan to the couch and settled into a corner. Vin tucked a leg under himself and nestled into the opposite, watching his Southerner closely. A small, fleeting smile played around green eyes, and a manicured hand reached out to lay upon a worn-denim covered leg. Laying tousled auburn head against the back of the sofa, Ezra closed his eyes and slept.

The End