"Not Letting Go"

Title: Not Letting Go (NLG Series, Part 1)

Pairing: Stuart/Vince

Rating: NC-17

Genre: Angst

Summary: Dark tidings delivered by a stranger prove life altering for both Stuart and Vince.

Author Notes: This hurt to imagine let alone write, but having found myself in the midst of darkness I believe I have found a satisfying ending. For Peggy and DeAnna Z. thank you both for reading the fragments that you were sent. The comments helped and I hope you are both pleased with the further developments.

Spoilers: Set after QAF1. Oh, and watch for the cameo mention of a USQAF character.

Warnings: Violence, but this is NOT a Non-con fic.

Not Letting Go (NLG Series, Part 1)

by xof

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The mobile was snatched up on the second ring.

"Yeah, hello." Stuart snapped. It had not been a good morning . . .

"Is this Stuart Jones?"

Not recognizing the woman's voice, he answered. "Stuart, that's me. Who the hell is this?"

Her voice slightly halted at Stuart's abrupt tone, the mystery caller introduced herself. "My name is Margaret. Margaret Smithe. I'm . . . I was trying to find . . ."

Impatient as ever Stuart interrupted. "The point, please."

Her gasp at his rudeness could clearly be heard through their connection. As could the defensiveness of her next words. "Do you know a Vincent Tyler?"

"A Vincent Tyler . . . no. THE Vince Tyler, yes. What's this about?"

"Well, your Vince Tyler is currently passed out in my hallway. I was going to call the police or an ambulance but he kept insisting when he first knocked that he would be fine as long as I called you. He stumbled towards my living room and then collapsed with his mobile still in hand. Sir? Sir... Are you still there?"

Shaking his head in an attempt to fully digest what the lady was saying, Stuart murmured. "Yeah. I'm here. Where is he? Where do you live? Give me the address."

Listening attentively, Stuart wrote down the information. "Tell me how he's doing."

Shakily Margaret replied, "He's still unconscious. Has been for a few minutes. He's laying very still. Pale. Breathing deeply, but his heart sounded a little fast when I checked before calling." Sounding frightened she continued, "Mr. Jones. I really think I should call for medical assistance. This isn't . . ."

"Don't." The command in his voice was deadly serious. "I'm twenty minutes or more away. I'll take care of this. I'll take care of him."

Margaret agreed in a small voice. "All right for now. But you'd better show soon. My husband is due in a little over an hour and he'll definitely call the police."

"I'm off now." Ringing off his mobile, Stuart raced to grab his keys and jacket before rushing out of his office . . . mumbling incoherently to Sandra's questions. "Emergency . . . don't know. Gotta . . ."

Screeching out onto the street, he looked at his watch. Half past eleven. Thursday. Vince had had the day off he remembered. Shit. He'd just seen him last night. Babylon early in the evening before Stuart had left to follow his latest prospect off into the night. He couldn't remember much that'd happened. Anita strikes again. The bitch. All Stuart could recall was telling Vince he'd see him later as he moved off on the prowl for that bloke - American . . .

Flashes of brown hair, hazel eyes . . . attitude as predatory as his smile. Sensuous lips. Magnificent shag.

Named . . . Brian, he thought.

Didn't matter, he was gone when Stuart woke. Made starting the day easier to begin.

Vince . . .

Vince had been smiling at him before Stuart'd left. In his adoring way . . . or was that indulgent. They'd been having a good time getting back into the flow of their friendship. Old patterns easily reestablished in the wake of their reunion. Forgiven but still not forgotten. The betrayal on Vince's birthday still shadowing their conversations like an aftertaste that would only fade given time. Still, Vince had been smiling. That quiet small lift of his mouth that echoed through his eyes . . . Stuart didn't even remember what he'd said or done to be on the receiving end of so welcomed a gift. Damn that woman anyway . . . "E, my arse."

How the fuck did Vince find his way to the outskirts of Manchester? Hell, what could have happened? Sounded like drugs which would explain his begging that woman not to call for help, but that didn't tell Stuart anything. Just a guess. He knew that his friend hadn't copped off since the Cameron breakup.

Messy that . . .

The Australian bastard hadn't taken the news well. Came banging on Stuart's flat door in the wake of Vince's version of the "Let's just be friends," putdown. Stuart had been this close to calling the police when Vince had shown and told Cameron in an uncharacteristically rude manner that it was over and if he'd couldn't handle that, then sod off. Stuart had stood there in stunned disbelief as Cameron turned on his heels and left. Neither had heard from him since.

Running his hand nervously through his hair and over the back of his neck, Stuart cursed violently at every car in his path. "Move your leaded arse, you decrepit fuck!!!" "Who the fuck taught you to peddle, prat." Etc. He was sweating even in the cool air of mid-morning, heart pounding in a rhythm that threatened to out pace the speeding of his own jeep. "Vince . . . Hold on. I'm coming."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Several minutes and near collisions later, Stuart stood pounding on Margaret Smithe's front door. Once it'd been opened, he burst through on a wave of tense energy. "Where is he?" The small red haired woman pointed to the left in speechlessness. Stuart headed off without a second look her way.

"God, Vince."

There he was. Laying prone on the floor, so pale . . . so fucking still. For all his quiet charm, seeing him this motionless was jarring. Telling himself to just imagine Vince was sleeping, Stuart steeled his resolve and knelt at his friend's side. Margaret had covered him with a blanket, putting a pillow under his head. Stuart reached under to take Vince's hand in his. Leaning in, Stuart listened to his friend's breathing. Slow and deep. Reaching gently forward, Stuart checked Vince's eyes. Yep, pupils dilated. His face was covered by a light sheen of sweat as though some phantom fever had broken, but his skin felt warm . . . not hot. Must have been badly flushed though when he'd stumbled into the house. Finally pressing his ear to Vince's chest, Stuart listened to the movements of his heart. Steady rhythm. Moving as though he'd done some light exercise, but not like he'd run a marathon.

Stuart pressed his forehead against the smooth curve of Vince's throat. Relief making him almost dizzy, he felt the first stirrings of Vince's coming wakefulness. His friend shifted restlessly, pressing closer to the touch of Stuart's hair against his cheek.

"Thank you . . ." Stuart didn't know really to whom he spoke as he breathed the words out quietly against Vince's skin. He just needed to express his gladness.

Dimly, Stuart heard Margaret speaking.

"... welcome. I'm just relieved I reached you. Do you think he'll wake up?"

Rising up reluctantly, Stuart nodded. "Should be up enough to at least get him to the jeep in a few." Looking at their hostess for the first time he asked, "Did you see anyone when you let him in? Car, taxi . . . any indication how he got here like this? Did he say how?"

Margaret could only shake her head. "No. Afraid not. I cracked open the door at the loud banging but the only thing I saw was him, half standing and half falling into my house. He didn't say much besides repeating your name, not to call anyone but you." Shaking her head she continued. "Even when he didn't make any sense he was so polite. Kept apologizing. Saying sorry. Calling out your name, over and over. Pleading for me not to tell..."

"Not to tell? You mean not to call for help?"

"No. I don't think so. He was mumbling something odd about mustn't tell him. He mustn't know . . . but then he'd start calling for you again and that's when he collapsed."

Confused as to what that could mean, Stuart asked for a damp cloth and some water. He needed to get Vince back to his so he could better care for him. Once she'd given the items to him, Stuart leaned in and washed Vince's face. He loosened his collar, unbuttoning it so that he could lightly run the cloth over his friend's neck and upper chest. He flinched when he saw what looked like finger length bruises along Vince's shoulders. Who the fuck had been manhandling him? Shit. Placing the cloth over his brow, Stuart started calling quietly to Vince . . . asking him to wake up. Giving his cheek a slight tap or two, Stuart spoke in a harsher tone. "Vincent Tyler. This is not the time to be laying down on your arse. Open your eyes." He watched as Vince's eyes fluttered, unseeing at first. "That's it, luv. Come on now. Open those beautiful eyes for me." Stuart didn't even notice the emotion ridden yet passionate quality that hope had brought to his own voice. All he knew was that Vince opened his eyes once again.

Opening his mouth as though to speak, Vince seemed to be struggling to get his throat to cooperate. Stuart carefully lifted the man's upper torso enough to slide him over, propped up onto his lap. "Here . . . drink some water. It'll help." He watched as Vince did so, taking only a small portion before he collapsed back fully over Stuart's folded legs. Stuart brushed his friend's hair back from his damp skin, soothing him as he fought to regain enough clarity to help in leaving for his flat. "You don't have to talk now. Just focus on being able to sit up right. We need to get you to the jeep."

After several moments, Vince whispered a request. "Take me away."

Giving him a smile, Stuart rose up and with brave Margaret's help . . . lifted Vince up somewhat steadily onto his feet. In a moment or two, they made the slow trek down the hall and to the front door. Shifting him so that most of this friend's weight was settled against his side, Stuart opened the door only to almost lose him again as Vince cringed back from the brightness of the sun's light. "Close you eyes for me, Vince." Cursing the fact that he'd left his sunglasses in the jeep, Stuart and Margaret tentatively moved Vince towards it's black haven. Struggling to lean him against the side, Stuart opened the passenger door and with uncharacteristic patience helped Vince get seated and buckled in to the vehicle. He reached out to gently place his shades over Vince's eyes after grabbing them from the dash. Stuart brushed his hand gently down the side of Vince's face, noticing how the man unconsciously leaned into the touch. Stuart closed the door to the jeep.

Thanking Margaret for her help, Stuart hurried round to the driver's side. Looking at Vince's slumped figure, he promised softly, "We're going home, Vince. I've got you now." When Vince remained silent, Stuart saw that he'd fallen asleep. He pulled out on the road, driving with a complete lack of recklessness due to his precious cargo's condition. Stuart was worried at Vince's lack of response overall. His friend's usually talkative nature seemed somehow subdued in silence. Murmuring to himself, "When we get home. When we get home . . ." he continued driving, not having noticed how easily his own mind had accepted terms like "we" and "home" as natural states of being.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Once he'd gotten them both to his building, Stuart quickly commandeered a passing neighbor to help with getting Vince into first the lift and then the flat. He didn't even know the bloke's name . . . Rob, something. At the question as to Vince's current state, he snapped that it wasn't the first time he'd shagged someone almost to death. Stuart knew that though it was a lie, at least it was the sort of line that didn't tend to lead to more questions - effectively in Rob's case as he continued to help with Vince in silence. Muttering his thanks, Stuart quickly led Rob out into the hallway . . . surprised when the man reached forward to place a hand on his shoulder in comfort and said, "I hope your partner feels better soon."

Watching him leave, Stuart shook his head as he threw his jacket across the room and hurried back to Vince.

His eyes were open . . . the jostling having awakened him during the trek into Stuart's bedroom. But for all their beautiful blue depths, Vince's gaze was distanced . . . as though seeing only into a far off space. He didn't reply to Stuart's, "Vince?" He just lay there, looking at nothing as his body began to visibly shiver.

Hoping that if he got Vince comfortable and warmly wrapped up in bed that he'd come round fully, Stuart leaned in to unbutton and remove his friend's clothing. He bit his lip nervously as Vince remained silent . . . removing the belt and shoes, followed by socks, before reached forward to open his shirt and trousers. Stuart took off the pants with little effort and having eased the shirt back from Vince's shoulders, had to stop for the shaking of his own hands.

"Bloody hell! Fuck. Fuck . . . fuck."

Bruising . . . along the shoulders, down the sides and along the stomach was more than evident in its own macabre display. Cruel contrast marked against the whiteness of Vince's skin . . . Such pale perfection so vilely marred.

Lost in the shock of seeing him like this, Stuart almost didn't hear the whisper for the harsh sound of rage boiling through his own veins.

" . . . 'm cold." Vince's words were a slur as he made an attempt to roll towards the warmth of Stuart's presence.

Telling himself that he needed to get a hold of his fury so he could better see to Vince, Stuart eased himself closer. Speaking more calmly than he felt, Stuart responded to his friend. "Vince. We're gonna get you into a nice warm bath. You'll like that. Get warm and help ease your bru . . . uhm. Help ease your aching muscles. I'm gonna get the water ready for you. Be right back." Hearing the disapproving mumble at the news that he was leaving even for a moment, Stuart went with his first impulse. Placing a kiss gently on Vince's temple, he wrapped the duvet around him . . . making Vince feel more at ease before Stuart went into the bathroom.

Living his life mostly on the go, Stuart rarely made use of the large tub . . . but after having seen the marks on Vince's upper torso, it was the best solution he could think of that would help his friend in the short term. Liquid heat. Running the warm water, he quickly threw off his own work clothes as he made ready. Grabbing a pair of black sleep pants to wear, Stuart returned to the bed. He'd eased up the thermostat so that his friend wouldn't have to feel the chill after his soak was done. Back to Vince, Stuart uncovered him as he talked. "Vince. You still with me? Here we go, okay." Getting him to the bath was difficult, but Vince seemed to be more responsive to his surroundings. He leaned back against the wall obediently as Stuart tried to be nonchalant about removing his friend's boxer briefs. "There we are. Time to ease into the water."

Once settled back, Stuart looked on as Vince closed his eyes with a long sigh. He opened them again when Stuart placed a folded towel under his head for comfort. Feeling Vince watching, Stuart hurried about turning on the bath jets to a gentle setting, getting together a bath sponge and liquid soap . . . even shampoo, his movements signifying his innate kinetic energy - barely caged. And his uncertainty as to how to proceed... Finally running out of things to find, Stuart knelt beside the bath. Soaping up the sponge, he gently guided it over Vince's skin.

Focus intent on the marks and not wanting to hurt his silent friend, Stuart was startled when he felt the brush of Vince's hand against his cheek.

Still sounding slightly hoarse but clearer than before, Vince spoke. "You'll break the skin if you go on that way."

Thinking at first he meant that he was hurting Vince, Stuart pulled back before realizing that he was really only drawing attention to Stuart's nervous habit of biting his lip. "Hmm. Yeah, suppose so." Meeting Vince's gaze he asked, "What happened, Vince?" The question made his friend duck his head. "You can tell me . . . or not, just yet if you think . . ." His words drifted off as Stuart saw the moisture gathering in Vince's eyes. "Right. Not now then. Here, let's get you feeling better." Lifting a glass of water, he waited til Vince'd finished drinking before moving back in with the sponge.

Gliding the soft warm sponge over first Vince's neck, shoulders and then down his chest . . . Stuart tried not to think as his mind clamored with thoughts of what could have happened, what must have happened and how right it felt to have Vince here with him now. The sponge traveled down the length of each of Vince's legs and then back, moving up to his stomach and down his sides . . . coming to a stop when Stuart realized how close he'd come to doing what could be considered taking advantage.

Sick bastard, that's me - he thought. Here they were, Vince hurting in tub . . . Stuart half naked and shaky with high emotions . . . steam rising from the active jets, leaving a sheen over their skin . . . with Stuart's hand holding a sopping wet sponge when what he really wanted to do was reach forward and touch Vince in the flesh. To really feel him near, alive and safe. Fighting against his own don't give a shit, have at tendencies . . . Stuart made to pull back only to have Vince grab his hand.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Don't. I like how . . ." Vince's words echoed through the room even in their quiet hesitancy. "Feels nice. Safe."

Thinking that continuing to touch his friend was anything but safe, Stuart halfheartedly began to protest. "Vince. This isn't . . . I shouldn't be . . ." Not knowing how to say that he didn't want to stop but thought it right, without hurting his friend . . . Stuart let his words cease at the look in Vince's eyes. It spoke of so deep a need for . . . contact. For acceptance and comfort. For his touch.

Giving into his own need to feel, Stuart leaned in quickly. He pressed his lips tenderly to those of his friend, not trying to draw out any sort of reaction . . . only to communicate his own thankfulness at having Vince so near. It lasted but a moment before he moved away. Dropping his own gaze, Stuart moved round to sit behind Vince's head. He wet the man's hair in a steady stream of warm water, making sure that it trickled down the back of his neck like liquid kisses. Pouring the slightly spice scented shampoo in his hands, Stuart massaged his fingers through the short silken strands of Vince's hair. Purposefully taking long moments to trace behind the ridge of each ear and down the back of his neck, Stuart smiled as he listened to the pleased murmurs that fell from his friend's lips.

After several moments, Stuart looked past the length of Vince' neck . . . skimming his eyes quickly away from the darkened skin until he noticed that his friend had slowly been moving his knees upwards so that he now sat clutching them close to his body, clenched fists being the only indication that he had not completely given into the pleasure of Stuart's touch. Sighing softly, Stuart leaned his friend's head back as he poured water to rinse away the shampoo. He ran the sponge down the length of Vince's back swiftly, before telling him it was time to stand up.

"Let's get you into the shower for a minute to wash away the soap." He helped Vince keep upright on unsteady legs as they walked to the cubicle. Reaching in to turn the knobs, Stuart stood just outside the half open door as he made sure Vince could slowly turn round under the heated spray of falling water. He tried to keep his thoughts focused on getting Vince through this small task, but still found his eyes wandering. Wondering why there were not marks on any other part of his friend's body but the front torso. Wondering at the beauty he found in seeing Vince's paleness as it stood out against the darkened tiles. Wondering also at his own reaction to being needed at so base a level.

Guiding Vince back to the bedroom wrapped in towels, Stuart asked, "Let me give you a massage. It'll help with your . . ." Biting at his lip once more, he looked at Vince . . . seeing the accepting gratefulness there like the welcome it was. He took out a pair of his softest black silk boxers, assisting Vince in putting them on for the warmth they would provide. Not that he didn't feel slighted with having to give up so lovely a view as Vince's cock and arse. "Lay on your back." Stuart spread Vince's discarded towels over the bed before he moved to obey. Dimming the room's lights, Stuart made a quick search . . . finally finding the oil he wanted to use. It was meant to be utilized during full body massage, having the tantalizing effect of heating with use. Attempting to keep his mind off the other uses of such a balm, Stuart knelt on the bed at Vince's side.

"Vince." Stuart wanted Vince to know that he could trust him with his fears, but having never been in a situation as drastic as this before he didn't know the right words to say. He watched as his friend lay quietly, Vince's eyes finally starting to show some of his customary awareness. Giving him a smile, Stuart opened the oil and began warming it between his hands. Placing them over Vince's chest, Stuart asked, "You with me here?"

"Yes." The word barely reached his ears so quietly was it said.

"I want you to focus. Really focus on how this feels. Absorb what my hands are doing. There's only me and you in this moment. No troubles. No bad thoughts. Just this . . ." Gliding his fingers sweetly over the tips of Vince's nipples, Stuart purposefully fluttered his touch. He grinned thankfully at Vince's responsive gasp. Continuing to skirt his hands lightly over the full expanse of his friend's chest until the oil was evenly spread, Stuart set about increasing the rhythm of his caress. Avoiding those darker marks, he trailed the massage up along Vince's neck . . . before ghosting his touch over the shoulders and pressing firmly down the center line of his torso. He watched as Vince began losing himself in the pleasure and heated friction of Stuart's still moving hands.

Giving into a mad moment, Stuart tickled Vince's side for a brief second. He gave the first joyful sigh he'd had all day when Vince squirmed endearingly under the assault. And laughed . . . God, that sound was breathtakingly sweet.

"There's my lad. My Vince at a laugh."

Moving his fingers in a gentle circles over Vince's skin, Stuart took in the flush his actions had brought to his friend's face and body. Vince's eyes were half closed in deep sensation but still so vibrantly bright, showing no signs of lingering chemical distraction. He was fully present in body and mind. Reaching down, Stuart clasped Vince's hand and brought it up to his own chest . . . letting him feel the beating of his heart just as Stuart felt the steadied pulse of Vince's own beneath his other hand.

With a audible catch in his breathing, Vince suddenly used their joined hands to pull Stuart down to him. Stuart wrapped his arms around him as Vince buried his face in the curve of his friend's throat. He thrilled silently at the press of his friend's body . . . the touch of hardened flesh against his hip making him smile over Vince's shoulder as he felt the answering tightness of his own.

"It's okay now. I've got you, Vince. Everything's fine." Stuart slowly began rocking them as they lay facing. "Shh. I'm not letting go . . . No worries."

Soaking in this rare sense of closeness, both remained silent for a good while. Until Stuart heard words spoken in a hush against his neck.

"He seemed nice enough at first."

Raising his hand, Stuart threaded his fingers into his friend's short hair. He didn't say anything, didn't know how to tell Vince it was all right to talk except by showing him he was safe to do so.

"I'd pulled a late night. Day off and all. More restless than usual." Vince's words continued to sound slightly stilted as he gained more courage to speak. "You'd gone. With that American bloke." Stuart felt him sighing softly, the air tickling his skin as Vince continued softly. "Odd that one. Everything just like you. Like you went home with yourself..."

Shaking his head again, Stuart had a chuckle. "How'd you figure that? We look nothing alike. Not even close."

Vince pressed his forehead closer into the nape of Stuart's neck before answering. "Hmm. Wasn't the looks. He's just got your same spirit. King of his own world."

Not knowing how to answer that, Stuart moved his cheek over the soft damp mess of Vince's hair. He reached back and drew the duvet back over them both for added warm . . . finding deep pleasure in lying cocooned together with his friend as they stayed locked so close. "So I'd gone . . ."

Bravely starting again, "I was a twat. Followed Alex around for awhile till he copped off. But felt too wired to go back to mine. No one to talk to, so kept drinking as I watched the crowd. Too much . . . Lost track of time and beers. Finally got up to leave and almost fell down. World all in a twirl, it was. Would have to if he hadn't pushed me back against the wall." Pausing to take a deep breath, he took the plunge. "Told me his name was Oscar. Funny that he didn't seem to remember which name he'd given me later when I was screaming for him to leave off the kicking."

Biting his tongue to keep from bursting out in fury, Stuart steeled his resolve to listen before he gave into the anger.

"Don't know what time it was . . . must have been at least 3:30 or more. Could hardly keep up, he spoke so fast. Thick accent . . . German. Just in for the night, he said. Nice looking. Blonde. Told him I was half off my head . . . like that wasn't obvious. Probably why he'd picked me to . . ."

He stopped for a moment. Then he said, "It's kind of a blur what we actually said. Or how we got to his room . . . Just remember being in a cab, feeling like I'd fall off to sleep any moment. Not sure why I'd gotten in with him. Was looking out the window with him licking my neck . . . his hand at my groin, and then it all went black."

Raising his hand, Vince softly touched Stuart's dark curls. Stuart knew that he'd always loved his hair. Felt nice.

"Last time I got so pissed was at my 29th birthday. Your fault. You said you didn't want me to have to witness the dawn of my last year of youth . . . no reason to stay sober with old age just round the corner."

His heart in his throat from the details he was getting of Vince's night, Stuart tried to respond with a laugh at the memory. "Well, some people are just born prats."

"Yeah, there is that." Vince's voice held a self-deprecating tone. "I . . . I don't know how long I was out. Came to with him shaking me, telling me to drink up . . . more of the hair to get me own my feet. Jeez, must have been straight vodka. And something else, too. Didn't know at first, until the room started spinning. He kept telling me to stand up, walk round . . . giving me orders and calling me his pet. Whenever I opened my mouth to speak, he'd slap me and shout that pets didn't have the right to speak. It had to be earned. I was scared out of my mind. He pushed me towards a doorway, but even half falling down drunk with that shit I'd swallowed scrambling my thoughts . . . I fought not to go. Took a swing at him but lost my balance. He jerked me down onto my knees, holding me with his fingers digging into me like claws. Told me to do as he said or he's beat me. I kept . . . I kept telling him no. To sod the fuck off and let me go. Tried to throw him off balance by shoving my weight against his legs, but he side stepped and came round with a kick. He . . ." Vince's voice caught as he struggled to get the words out. He was clutching at Stuart like a life line as he continued, tears falling silently to spill over his friend's pulsing heart. "He kept kicking me as I curled up on the floor. Hands over my head as I yelled at him to stop. To let me leave. Let me go home. That people had seen him with me. That I'd be missed. Kept shouting like a twat, anything to get through to him and make him stop. I . . . Called out for . . . for you. He stopped when he heard me say your name. Don't know why . . . he just finally seemed to snap out of the rage. Like maybe he thought I wasn't as much the loner as he'd thought I was. He went over and got more of the vodka mix. Told me to drink or he'd . . . he'd shut me up permanently. He poured that stuff down my throat as I was gasping for air, shoved me to the ground and walked away."

Vince had by this point wrapped his arms completely around Stuart, the pair clinging together in mutual torment. Stuart was murmuring soft sounds into Vince's ear, the rocking having given way to stillness and tense reflection.

"I blacked out again. Don't know . . . I remember coming half way round as he was dragging me to the door, being shoved into a car. Next thing I knew, I was laying on the ground with the sun screaming into my eyes. He must have just left me there, by the back fence of some stranger's house. Didn't know where I was. Couldn't walk right. Kept falling down. Was trying to use the mobile to call but couldn't think well enough to figure out the buttons and walk at the same time. . . Just remember feeling like I had to keep moving. Had to . . . Think I remember knocking on a door . . . then nothing again. Till I opened my eyes and you where with me."

Stuart released his breath as Vince's strained voice tapper off into silence. To think what his friend has suffered at the hands of that fucking animal. He wanted to scream out, to curse like fire as his blood ran molten . . . burning through his veins. His innate reaction was for vengeance. At all costs . . . because dammit someone had hurt HIS friend. His . . .

Oh god, Vince.

Stuart mentally jerked his thoughts back to the man that lay silently in his arms. He's stopped trembling, stopped shivering . . . almost stopped everything in the wake of his nightmare. Until he whispered . . .

"Go ahead and say it."

"What?"

"Sad bastard, that's me."

Stuart flinched at hearing his own often used sentiment said so despondently. He'd never thought about how much it must have hurt Vince to hear. Here they were lying together, so very close . . . the wetness of Vince's tears on his skin, the press of his body, the sound of his heart and all Stuart could think was that he wanted so much for Vince to know that he was cherished. Valued. Needed. Pushing back the anger at both himself and Vince's attacker, Stuart resolved his mind and spoke the truth.

"Vince. You are the best of everything that I've known in this life. Best person. Best friend. Best heart. Never think otherwise."

Feeling the slight shake of Vince's head as it lay still buried at his throat, Stuart leaned back so he could see his friend. Those beautiful eyes shown in the half light of the room, the tears having left trails of moisture down his cheeks. Stuart traced up the line of his throat, moving the hand back to thread through Vince's hair and cradle his skull. Smiling gently, Stuart tried for a bit of humor as a light in their darkened reality.

"Besides, sad bastards aren't allowed in my bed. And here you are . . ."

Vince tried to smile. Stuart could tell by the small uplift of his mouth but all for not as he watched Vince's face fall as he gasped out, "Oh my god." His cheeks flamed as he made to move away from Stuart's arms, unable to complete his escape when his friend pulled him back.

"What? Vince, are you okay?"

Stuttering in embarrassment, Vince moaned as the full brunt of how Stuart had had to coddle him came into focus. "I'm so sorry. Fuck. You . . . You need to be at work. I'm gonna . . ."

"Shhhh. Vince, hush. I don't give a toss about work. You're what's important. Now stop moving about and tell me what's wrong." Seeing Vince struggling to calm himself, Stuart leaned in and kissed him gently on lips. Drawing out the contact, he moved his mouth in a small distracting glide from one side to the other . . . wanting the touch to draw Vince from his internal struggle back into the now. Pulling back slightly he whispered, "Don't think. Just tell me. Say the words."

Dazed at having had Stuart's kiss, Vince followed his command with closed eyes. "You seeing me like this. The . . . The bath. The shower. God . . . and after. What you must think of me now. Like an infant, I am . . . needing a nappie before being put into the nearest pram. I'm . . . I . . . uhm."

Stuart covered Vince's mouth with his hand, wanting to stop the nonsense from trickling out any further. "Vincent Tyler, just shut your face. You are your own worst judge and I won't have you thinking I see you as anything other than brilliant. Brave and bloody marvelous. Understood?"

Vince sighed in resignation. He eased back into Stuart's arms again. "I'm so nackered."

"Think you could sleep some?"

"Best do . . ."

Hesitating before he asked, Stuart said, "Are you going to be comfortable like this? Or do you need to be on your back?" Remembering the bruises on Vince's sides, he lightly trailed his palms down his friend's spine.

"Mmmm. No. S'good 'ere." His voice drifted off as Vince relaxed into the caress of Stuart hands and the feel of his warm embrace.

Murmuring quietly, Stuart agreed. "Yeah, this is good." He listened as the minutes went by, hearing the deepening of Vince's breathing until he was certain that his friend was asleep. He continued to hold him, focusing on how it felt to have Vince safe . . . The quiet of the room later started to pray on his sense of momentary peace though as sleep did not lend him it's welcomed hand. Stuart's mind sped with thoughts . . . must do's and would like to's. He was wagging a small battle with him self. From the moment he'd seen the damage done to his friend, Stuart had wanted that other man's blood. But thinking back on the details that Vince had given, those being hazy at best due to the alcohol and drugs, Stuart knew that it would probably prove a fruitless desire. Still with the right questions and some pressure on the right people for possible details, maybe not. But that would have to wait. Vince was still foremost in his mind.

Some while later, Stuart eased Vince over onto his back and made off from the bed. He pulled on a black jumper and walked to the livingroom. Setting plans in motion, he rang Vince's office and spoke the Vince's supervisor. Usually a bitch, the woman actually sounded sympathetic to his report that Vince wouldn't be into work on Friday due to recovery time needed from being "mugged." After ringing off from there, Stuart called out for a meal to be delivered round seven that evening. Vince hadn't eaten since the night before and they'd both need something hot but simple to fill their stomachs. Fixing on the clock, he saw that it was now quarter after four. He called in to speak to Sandra as well, having to hold the phone away from his ear at her string of complaints until he snapped that Vince had been ruffed up in an incident and that she would fucking well have to handle the rest of today and tomorrow without him. Sounding immediately contrite, she asked after Vince and promised that she'd hold down the office for him. For once being mindful, Stuart thanked her before ending the call.

He placed the phone on the kitchen island, standing as still as a statue. Trying . . . trying so very fucking hard to keep his calm, Stuart began rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet. Hands gripping the counter top with whitened knuckles, he braced himself as securely as possible as he felt the most primal need surging through his slim frame to scream out in rage. Stuart's body jerked under the pressure as he did indeed scream . . . mouth opened in total silence. The volume captured still deep within his throat as he closed his eyes and mouth, Stuart slumped forward . . . some of the tension having left him. With a shaking hand, he picked up the phone and dialed.

Flinching as he heard Lisa's greeting Stuart said, "I need to speak to Romey."

Sarcasm dripping she said, "Well hello to you too, Your Majesty. Talking to the commoners of the world, are you?"

Gritting his teeth, "Just put her on the fucking phone."

"Now you listen you me, you bastard. Don't you think you can just . . ."

"Lisa. If you ever had a kind impulse in your life, put Romey on the phone." His voice had dropped off into the harshest of whispers.

Actually made speechless by the despondence and pain in Stuart's voice, Lisa called out for Romey.

"Stuart. I'm here. What's wrong?"

Taking a deep breath he stumbled through an explanation for the call, "I wanted you to know that I won't be by tomorrow to pick up Alfred. Might be out of contact for awhile."

Showing the considerate patience she was known for possessing, Romey asked, "Stuart. Will you tell me what's happened?"

"It's . . . God, it's Vince. He's been . . . uhm. He's okay. Fine . . . Sleeping, but he's . . ." Stopping for a moment before continuing Stuart said, "Romey. He was bashed last night. Some fuck drugged him and beat him before dumping him halfway cross Manchester. I've got him. He's . . ."

"Oh lord. Does he need a doctor? Stuart. How is he?"

Stuart gave her brief details of the bruising and that he seemed to be free of the drugs. His voice sounded so small, like a child. And yet hollowed of emotion . . . like he was telling the details of a movie rather than their lives. He'd called not for help, but for someone to at least mentally share the burden.

Romey listened. "Do you need me to come by? I can be there in a few minutes."

"No. He wants me. Called for me. I'm taking care of him. Just wanted you to know I won't be there tomorrow." Pausing . . . "Oh god. Hazel."

"Does she know?"

"I haven't . . . No. She doesn't. Don't call her, Romey. That's for Vince to decide. I'll . . . I've got to go. He'll wake soon. Want to be there."

"Stuart, wait. Please call me if I can help. Really. And give him a hug from me."

"Yeah. Will do."

"Oh and luv, be strong. For yourself and for him . . ."

Nodding his head as he spoke, "He's with me. That's everything right now. . . Talk to you soon."

Ringing off, Stuart dropped the phone as he heard Vince's yell . . .

"Stuart!!!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Racing to the bedroom at a dead run, Stuart saw that in his sleep Vince had become tangled within the coverings of the bed. Still asleep, he was writhing violently as he struggled for freedom . . . caught in the nightmare of memory. Stuart knelt on the bed as he reached forward to awaken his friend. He tugged at the duvet and sheets, trying to free Vince's arms . . . calling out to him to wake up.

"Vince. Come on, wake up. It's Stuart." He cringed as Vince continued to thrash about, unconscious still to all the waking world. Once Vince's arms were freed, Stuart leaned in to pull him close . . . his actions abruptly waylaid when the man thrust forward in unseeing fear. The motion toppled Stuart backwards as Vince's body came down to pin him to the mattress. Covering his head in self-defense Stuart yelled out, "Oy, Vince. Wake the fuck up. It's me. Stuart. Stop, Vince!" Grunting aloud as his friend's flailing arm hit him across the face, Stuart grabbed Vince around the middle and rolled them both over until he lay atop him . . . pressing the man's arms down above their heads. Panting, Stuart placed his mouth to Vince's ear . . . speaking words he hoped would break through to him. "I'm with you Vince. It's alright now. You're safe with me. Shhhh. Open your eyes now. Wake up. I've got you, Vince. You're here with me and I'm not letting go. I'm not letting go."

The sound of Stuart's voice quieted Vince enough to ease his unconscious fears. Laying over his friend's body, Stuart sagged forward as they both finally relaxed . . . tangled together with hearts racing. Stuart released Vince's arms as he brushed back the dampened hair from his friend's flushed face. Still holding him . . . face buried against Vince' shoulder, Stuart was slightly surprised to hear the quiet rumble of Vince's voice.

"Uhmm. Stuart? What . . ." His words fell off when Stuart lifted his head. "Oh my god. What happened to you?" Vince lifted his hand to brush over the slight swelling taking place across Stuart's right cheekbone and the discoloration beginning to show just below his eye.

Trying for levity, Stuart answered. "Just finding out what a tiger you can be in bed." Smiling down at Vince, he watched as the guilt shown forth in his answering frown. "Hey, it's okay. I should have known not to try and wake you so fast from your dream."

Vince looked at him for the longest time, his eyes focused on Stuart's face. "I'm sorry. I'd never want to hurt you." He raised his hand . . . touching the pained area of his cheek so softly that Stuart felt a physical ache at the sensation. Vince continued to trace the contours of Stuart's face, guiding his fingertips over the proud brow . . . down the line of his nose, round his other cheek down to his chin before tracing the curves of Stuart's mouth.

Feeling the whisper soft press of those fingers, Stuart met Vince's gaze. The soft light of the room shown forth in them as Stuart caught fragments of weariness, concern, desire and need reflected in their depths. More than ever he took in the sensation of having Vince's body under his own, the feeling of their hearts beating and the blood pulsing through his own body . . . quickening in response to Vince's close proximity.

Breath deepening, they both continued to rest pressed close from chest to foot. Each knowing the other felt the answering heat that echoed forth from their connected gaze. The tough thoughts as to why now, what would happen after and should they . . . blown to the still resting moon. It just was . . . and would be.

Stuart kissed the pads of Vince's fingers before leaning forward to draw them closer still . . . feeling the friction of Vince's hardening cock as it was brushed by his own. Stuart licked his lips before bringing his mouth to within a hair's breath of Vince's. Feeling the pull of his desire, Stuart melted into the inevitable with softly spoken words that both men held to be true. "This is mad this is . . . but I've never felt more sane, Vince." Flicking out his tongue, Stuart watched his friend's eyes darken like a storm at sea as he traced Vince's bottom lip. He smiled slightly, their mouths brushing close but the final press still absent as he spoke. "Take what you want. What we both want . . . Show me what you need."

With a moan, Vince pulled Stuart forward . . . hands tangled in his hair as they melted into their first true kiss. A myriad of sensations . . . the slight friction then smooth liquid glide of lips together, the press and insistence of tongues searching for taste and the vibration of mutual sighs of pleasure . . . all flooded Stuart's awareness. And then as he moved back intent on changing the angle of their kiss, Vince blocked his motion with commanding hands on his shoulders. Stuart groaned as his friend parted his legs allowing him to fit into the cradle of Vince's thighs.

Vince hooked his calves over Stuart's legs, whispering wildly into their kiss. "More. Stuart, I want more."

Stuart quickly kissed him in agreement, running his hands down Vince's sides without thought. He jerked back at Vince's pained gasp. "Oh shit. Sorry, didn't . . . Hell, couldn't think while kissing you."

"Don't stop. I need you not to stop."

Brushing his fingers over Vince's slightly swollen mouth, Stuart smiled to ease his worried expression. Shifting so that he could kneel over Vince, Stuart dragged the sweater over his head. He took Vince's hand . . . pushing it purposefully down his own chest, stomach and then down under the waistband of his pants. Closing their joined hands round his hardened cock Stuart said, "Stopping is not an option. Mmmm... Oh yeah. But not hurting you IS a priority." Seeing the warm flush of Vince's cheek and answering grin, Stuart slid off to lie on his back. He quickly removed his night pants so that he was naked at Vince's side. "You're in control, Vince." Arching upwards like a cat, he whispered in a rasping low tone. "Play with me."

Vince slowly sat up, looking over the length of Stuart's body with hungry eyes. Shaking his head as though to wake himself from a dream, he asked, "What are you like?"

Licking his lips enticingly, Stuart answered. "Come over here and find out."

Seeing Vince's serious expression, Stuart reached out for his hand . . . pulling him back into his arms. Murmuring at having Vince's weight pressing him down into the bed, he ran his hands down his friend's back until reaching the boxers he'd put on him earlier. Wanting very much to see his expression when first they touched skin to skin, Stuart eased the fabric over Vince's arse and down his thighs. They fell to the floor after Vince lifted up and kicked them away before slowly lowering himself back against Stuart.

He watched as Vince leaned into him, trailing sweet teasing kisses along his cheek and then over his lips. Stuart had always been prone to fucking with his mouth and tongue just like he was with his dick. He always expressed his desire by devouring his shags' mouths like they were a four course meal and he was a starving man . . . but always with finesse and great skill. Kissing Vince was proving a whole new education on sensuality. The man moved slowly at first, tasting and getting a feel for him . . . sliding his tongue into and then back from Stuart's mouth so swiftly that Stuart rose up in order to follow, wanting to recapture the fire. And then Vince took his mouth fiercely, releasing deep sighs as they continued to kiss.

Leaning back, Vince rose up to his knees astride Stuart's hips . . . letting him feel his cock as it nestled between the warmth of Vince's cheeks. Vince brought Stuart's hands up, placing them on his chest. "What I want is for you to touch me. Help me KNOW that this isn't a dream." Closing he eyes briefly, he said, "That I won't be waking to feel his hands on me again."

Growling at the red haze such words conjured in his brain, Stuart eased back quickly into a sitting position . . . guiding Vince until he was kneeling over his lap. This provided the best access for Stuart to touch him as he continued to distract Vince from dark thoughts by kissing him . . . moaning aloud at Vince's own soft murmur of pleasure. Speaking the words roughly against his friend's mouth Stuart whispered possessively, "My hands. My touch. That's all you need to know."

"Yes."

Stuart ran his hands down the length of Vince's spine . . . barely touching with just enough pressure to leave a faint aftertaste of sensation in his fingers' wake. Silently he reveled in the way Vince seemed torn between wanting to lean forward to capture more of Stuart's mouth and wanting to arch back into the slide of his talented hands. Finally at Vince's frustrated groan, Stuart skirted his hands down to firmly clasp the man's behind . . . drawing him forward into contact with Stuart's body.

Panting slightly, Vince began rocking his hips . . . making them both moan at the hot friction this caused as their cocks moved together. Stuart traced the firm curves under his fingers, paying attention to the sensitive crease as he dropped his head down to taste Vince's nipples. He felt his friend's body jerk as Vince tried unsuccessfully to avoid crying out at the feel of Stuart's mouth over the them. Vince threaded his hands through Stuart's hair as he guided him from one erect nub to the other. Stuart laughed as he circled them each in turn, loving Vince's reaction.

"Bite me." The words gasped out above Stuart's head. Vince shook his head wildly as Stuart nipped sharply at his chest. "Oh my god, that's so good."

Stuart eased the pressure, lightly licking the reddened tips before blowing a steady stream of warm air over them. He moved his mouth alone the man's collarbone, stopping to suck at the nape of his neck. Stuart knew he was raising a hickey but he couldn't deny his impulse to mark Vince as his . . . to place such a mark on him at his consent. Quickly lifting his head, Stuart took Vince's mouth once more . . . purring into their kiss.

Teasing the man, Stuart took Vince's bottom lip between his teeth . . . grinning at his friend's groan. He asked as he let go, "What do you want first?" Feeling the blood rushing through this veins as Vince pressed back into his wondering hands, Stuart hummed in anticipation. Vince opened his legs widely as he knelt forward.

"Do it. Touch me there."

Speaking softly Stuart asked, "You want to feel my fingers inside you, Vince? Reaching up so deep . . ."

With a quick breath, Vince nodded. Stuart could feel the shiver as it traveled through Vince, matched by the trimmer that washed over his own at the thought of touching him this way. Reaching over to the side table, he brought out what they needed. Taking some lube to warm between his fingers, Stuart melted himself as Vince traced over his lips with a liquid kiss. Stuart held their eyes locked as he touched Vince's opening for the first time. Holding the cheeks parted with one hand, he moved his other hand down to seduce the tight entrance for acceptance. For all the heat he found in touching Vince so intimately, Stuart was hard pressed to remember a more enticing sight than the expression of pure unadulterated pleasure on his friend's face as that first finger entered his body. Vince accepted the intrusion with complete submission . . . head back, mouth opened and chest flushed bright . . . moaning aloud as he asked for another.

Stuart obliged as Vince cried out softly. He watched as his friend shivered against him, loving it as he saw such open rapture shine out from Vince's eyes. "And now for just the right spot . . ." Wanting Vince to go crazy out of his mind, Stuart brushed his finger tips over the hot spot up inside Vince's tight entrance.

"Awww... Stuart, oh shit." Vince jerked as though lightening was surging through his limbs. He clung to Stuart's shoulders . . . ducking his head as he rasped out, "Keep that up and I'll come."

"So fucking responsive. Haven't even touched your cock but you're so ready. Go ahead. I want to see you . . ."

"No. Not . . . not without you inside me."

Stuart truly had never felt harder in his life than he did now . . . hearing those words from Vince's mouth. His cock felt so full, leaking pre-cum as he imagined how Vince's arse would feel clasped round him like a vice. But . . . "Vince, I want to fuck you so good. I do. But are you . . . Your . . ." He traced his free hand gently over his friend's side and stomach. Truthfully he felt like he'd rather die than deny Vince . . . than to deny them both, but not if it would compound the damage.

Vince ran his hands down Stuart's cheeks and along his neck. Leaning forward until their foreheads touched, he smiled so warmly. "This is about what I decide I want, right?" He kissed Stuart, playing into his mouth with a warm sweep of his tongue. "Remember . . . your hands, your touch." Raising up on his knees, Vince shifted forward until Stuart's hard-on was settled against his arse. He moaned at Stuart's pleased murmur, "Your cock."

"Okey doke. Mmmm. You gonna ride me?" Stuart thrust up against Vince, sliding up along the crease.

With a chuckle, Vince managed to gasp out his answer. "Giddy up."

Laughing into their next kiss, Stuart hummed his agreement. Drawing back, he leaned over and grabbed a condom. Handing it to Vince, he got the lube ready as he waited for his friend to cover his cock. Vince decided to take his time with the task . . . licking his own palm and stoking it over Stuart's length until he groaned before fitting the condom into place. Stuart bit his lip as he ran his hand over his cock, readying it for Vince as he watched his friend watching him. Eyes locked, Vince rose up into position. He took Stuart's hands and placed them on his hips before lifting one of his own hands to clutch at Stuart's shoulder . . . the other moving back to guide his possession.

That first moment . . . pressing through, seeing the slight flinch cross Vince's face as he felt the burn and then the mutual gasps as he sank down as Stuart thrust all the way up in one smooth motion. "Vince. Ohh... So fucking tight. Hot . . ."

Words stuttered forth as he stilled to let his body accept Stuart's presence, Vince responded. "S'been awhile." He circled his hips, feeling the hard grasp of Stuart's hands as he began to move up and down.

Stuart released a faint growl as he listened to those words . . . those words mixed with the feel of Vince as he began to fuck himself on his cock. Raw nerves were set on fire as the pace continued to increase, the friction intensified by the touch of their eyes on each other's faces. Stuart had never been in this intimate a position . . . had never felt this vibrant a connection to how their fucking was being felt by his partner as well as by himself. He liked how it felt, how Vince felt around him. He thrilled at the cries the man released on every downward thrust and at the way his friend kept running his hands over Stuart's chest, nipples, throat and into his hair.

Gasping as they continued to move into and over each other, Stuart pulled Vince in for a wild kiss . . . one meant to claim. One he may have shared in the past with some nameless bloke while lost in a passionate haze but had never meant until today. Speaking Vince's name repeatedly into his mouth, Stuart felt the tremble of his friend's body . . . the wildness that spurred their motions . . . and he knew they were close. So close. He intertwined one of his hands with Vince's and brought them down to the man's aching cock. Stroking in a commanding rhythm, he thrust up in a series of quick jabs . . . each aimed at Vince's prostate.

"Stuart. Oh yes. Yes. I . . . I'm going to. . . Oh fuck!" Vince groaned loudly as he came, his seed spilling over their joined fingers as he body spasmed down tightly round Stuart's own cock.

Gasping out at both the view of Vince's face as he came and the feel of his body as it clamped down on his flesh, Stuart shivered as his orgasm stole through him like a storm. Slumping back as Vince fell forward onto his chest, Stuart closed his eyes to dwell in his blissed out state. He absently ran his hands down Vince's back as they both slowly regained their breath. Thinking that Vince would need to rest more comfortably, Stuart began to ease from him only to hear his friend's murmured protest.

"Stay. I want to feel you a bit longer."

Speaking before he thought Stuart said, "You're gonna be sore after this."

Talking into his chest, Vince sighed. "Better to focus on being sore there than the rest of me."

Cursing himself silently for having unintentionally broached that subject, Stuart leaned in to kiss the top of Vince's head. In a few moments, they reluctantly separated as Vince eased down to drape himself over Stuart's chest after he'd removed their protection. The silence was only interrupted with small sighs as they both continued to touch the other . . . hands caressing and lips brushing together with satiated languor. It was an easy silence that Stuart had never realized was so unique and wonderfully comforting until now. He didn't feel rushed, annoyed or disquieted like with his shags, only a sense of peace at holding Vince in his arms.

Speaking softly with his eyes still closed, Vince broke the quiet. "I can handle it you know."

"What?"

His tone sounding assured if a bit stilted he answered, "What happened . . . with that bloke. I'm not going to shatter to pieces."

"I know that, Vince. You're one of the strongest people I know. Have had to be to put up with my shit, but . . ."

Interrupting Stuart, Vince made to reassure him . . . clearly trying to alleviate any supposed nervousness on his friend's part for their moment of passion. "And this. Us like this. It doesn't have to worry you. I'm not . . . expecting anything." Not sounding at all convincing he ended with, "I can handle being without this too."

Stuart almost jerked as he felt an inscrutable rush of denial flood his consciousness. Pulling Vince fully into his arms as though to keep him safe from his own self-sacrifice, Stuart kissed him as he responded with words said along the sensual swell of Vince's lips. "Not sure I can, Vince. Not anymore." Stopping any answering words Vince may have tried to give him as a way out, Stuart claimed his lover's mouth. They kissed with new purpose, moaning into the liquid heat . . . until the loud buzzing of Stuart's intercom broke them reluctantly apart.

Choosing to ignore the questioning light of Vince's gaze for now, Stuart rose from the bed to pull on his robe. "That's the food I ordered earlier. Stay right where you are. No moving from my bed, right..." Grinning widely, he breezed through the task of having the delivery brought up to his flat. Stuart returned to the bedroom with the food on a tray soon thereafter. Vince was lying on his back, buried in the tangle of Stuart's sheets. Stuart trailed his eyes down the length of the man's torso, taking in the dark marks and the newer spots of red that he'd placed on Vince's skin minutes ago. Setting the service down, he dropped the robe . . . liking how Vince's gaze followed it's descent before glancing back up along his body to his face.

Sitting by Vince's side, he asked, "Think you can eat something?"

Sliding up to sit across from him, Vince smiled in chagrin as he shifted gingerly to rest his weight more on his hip than his recently shagged arse. "Could do."

They ate without talking, not that they didn't communicate . . . trading heated looks and small answering smiles. Never losing eye contact for long, Stuart thought himself surprisingly calm considering the revelation that he was not going to let Vince talk them out from what had happened. No excuses made and no denials after. He wanted more than he'd thought he would, considering how close he'd come to having his better half ripped violently out of his life. Once they'd finished Stuart asked, "How are you?"

"Odd mix. Sore as hell, but still on the no-pain high from before with you." Vince actually seemed to flush at the memory. Stuart didn't blame he either. It had been extremely hot. And too long in coming . . . "God, I'm going to be in hell at work tomorrow. Not able to stay still and yet having to walk round being stiff," he groaned.

"You're not going in, Vince. I called your supervisor. Told her you'd been mugged and had to recoup." Forestalling Vince's protest, Stuart continued. "She didn't have a problem with it. Really. And I'm not letting you leave till we use every ounce of hot water this building can provide over the next three days." Smiling when Vince's eyes grew wide at that, Stuart leaned forward to ruffle the man's already wildly mussed hair.

"Uhmm. Did you . . . Hazel, did you tell her?"

Seeing the slightly panicked expression that passed over Vince's face, Stuart assured him he hadn't. "That's for you to decide. I . . . I did call Romey to tell her I wouldn't be getting Alfred tomorrow. She knows, but I told her not to call Hazel either." Leaning in he said, "Romey said to give you this." Taking him into his arms, Stuart hugged Vince close as he nuzzled his cheek and whispered in his ear. "God, Vince. I've never been this scared, angry and relieved in my life. And so fucking grateful to have you with me."

Clinging to him steadfastly, Vince nodded in agreement before speaking into the curls of Stuart's hair as they brushed over his face. "Never would have thought you did scared."

"Hmmm. Didn't do boyfriends until today either . . . things change."

Vince pulled back. He trailed a hand along the side of Stuart's face, brushing back the hair from his forehead . . . a serious expression on his face. Looking into Stuart's eyes, he asked, "Boyfriends?" He touched the black spot under Stuart's eye where his arm had made contact. "Blow to the head . . . brain addled by sex . . . and talk of settling down. Stuart Jones . . . you're off your head, you are."

Raising his eyebrows as he smiled, Stuart laughed as Vince grinned in return. "I just know what I want. And finally know what I've always had in you." He kissed Vince before he said, "Say yes, Vince. Stay with me. Be with me." Nuzzling into Vince's throat, he asked, "Be mine?"

Vince lifted Stuart's head so that he could look him in the eyes. "Today, tonight, tomorrow and on . . . for as long as you need me. Yes."

Knowing that one of the few things in his life that had always been and would always be a constant was his need for Vince, Stuart exhaled a breath he hadn't known he was holding inside. Pulling Vince fully to him as he closed his eyes, Stuart gave himself the pleasure of touching his lover as one word was called forth from his heart in mutual promise. "Yes."

Finis