Wiseguys

By Aaron Michaels

I. Motel Beds

Double beds. Motel rooms always had double beds, and Carter always took the bed by the door.

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Tony didn't mind, not anymore. As long as Tony could remember, people assumed, given Carter's bulk,
he'd be the enforcer. Tony was a slighter build, shorter than Carter, with lean muscles that refused to bulk
up no matter how many hours he spent pumping iron. When they'd both gone to work for Tony's Uncle
Sid, as they'd always known they would because that's what people in Tony's family did -- worked for
Uncle Sid -- Carter became the brawn and Tony the brains.

Over the years Tony had gotten used to it, Carter taking the protector role. As a kid, it used to bug the
shit out of him.

"I want the outside this time," Tony had said, fourteen years old and full of the need to prove himself.

He'd marched into the motel room first and dropped his bag on the bed by the door. Uncle Sid had the
room next door, his uncle's enforcers the room after that. Every hunting trip out of town was the same.
Just Uncle Sid and his boys, old and young, except they never really went hunting. Not the kind that
netted trout or big mouth bass or a meaty young buck. Uncle Sid hunted money, and he brought Tony
and Carter along to learn the family trade.

The room smelled of cheap alcohol and sweat and too many cigarettes. It wasn't much different from the
house where Tony lived with his uncle and his cousins, only there he had his own room and he didn't have
to fight over a bed with his best friend.

Carter had looked at him with those brown eyes of his, soft and liquid but hard underneath, like the rest
of him, hard underneath, even then. Hair buzzed short, shoulders bulking up, at fifteen already more of a
man than most men would ever be. Carter recognized the challenge for what it was.

"Flip for it," Carter had said.

Back then Carter's voice was already a deep rumble. Tony's was just starting to crack. Sometimes he
wondered if his voice would ever truly change, or if he'd be stuck somewhere between adolescence and
adulthood, forever trapped in the role of The Kid, never quite grown up enough to be a Real Man.

Tony took a quarter out of his pocket and flipped it in the air. "Heads," he called, concentrating on the

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spinning coin.

Carter tackled Tony around his waist and dumped him on the bed right next to his bag. Carter landed on
top of him, laughing.

"What the fuck was that for?" Tony asked.

"Never said we were gonna flip a quarter."

Tony felt Carter shift his weight, going for a wrestler's pin. Tony squirmed, trying to counterbalance and
keep from getting trapped. He was a decent enough wrestler, strong and wiry even without Carter's bulk,
but the soft surface of the bed was more hindrance than help.

"Flip me off," Carter said. "If you can flip me off, you get the bed."

The quarter forgotten, Tony fought back. This was about pride. About being more than The Kid, and he
didn't plan on losing.

Tony grunted with the effort, legs and arms and hips all working to dislodge Carter's bulk. He managed
to roll Carter onto his back, but Carter kept them rolling until he had Tony pinned again. The cheap
double bed sagged under their weight and the headboard banged against the wall. Tony's bag fell on the
floor, kicked off by thrashing legs and squirming bodies.

In the adjoining room, Tony's uncle thumped on the wall. "Hey, knock it off in there! Lights out!"

Tony and Carter froze for an instant, then burst into quiet giggles. Through the thin motel wall they could
hear a questioning female voice and Uncle Sid's response, low and reassuring. It hadn't taken Uncle Sid
long to find companionship. It never did.

"You give?" Carter asked.

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"Hell, no."

Carter grunted. "Didn't think so." He levered himself up on one arm and reached over to turn off the
bedside light. The room plunged into semi-darkness, lit sporadically by the motel's garnish red neon light
flickering on and off through the room's flimsy curtains.

Tony felt as much as saw Carter lower himself back down. His bulk should have made Tony nervous. It
didn't.

"Still gotta flip me off," Carter said, his voice low. "Just do it quiet-like."

And as simple as that, that's how it started. The wanting each other. They rolled around in the dark on a
cheap motel bed in some no-name Jersey town listening to Uncle Sid and the whore in the room next
door, and knew they both wanted something they shouldn't have.

They didn't do anything about it back then. They were both too shit-scared that Uncle Sid would find
out and beat them just for the idea. Men didn't do that with each other, not the men in Uncle Sid's family.
Tony's cousins all had girlfriends from the time they got their first hard-on. His oldest cousin married
some girl down the block while Tony was still too young to go with his uncle to the country. The marriage
had been a quick, quiet affair, and there'd been an even quicker baby seven months later.

At fourteen, Tony thought Uncle Sid was the toughest man alive. Men did what Uncle Sid told them to
even if they hated him for the mean old bastard he was. They paid tribute and they paid respect, and they
never, ever, slept with other men because Uncle Sid hated fags. No one in his right mind ever crossed
Uncle Sid.

Until now.

The battle had been brief and brutal, full of gunfire and curses and blood. Faretto's crew had hit them at
dinner. When it was over, Uncle Sid and his two lieutenants were dead along with his bodyguards. No
more fishing trips to the wilds of New Jersey. No more late night motel room whores.

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Carter had taken a bullet in the shoulder meant for Tony, and Tony had killed the man who tried to kill
him. Then Carter had pulled them both out of the smoking remains of the family's restaurant even as the
wail of the first sirens could be heard over the sporadic gunfire from men long indoctrinated to fight to the
death.

Carter was always the protector. Even now, with his arm in a sling to take weight off his damaged
shoulder, Carter still took the bed by the door.

Tony had his own aches and pains and the uncompromising knowledge that he'd killed a man he'd never
met. Even with all that, his mood was lighter than it had been in years. He'd never wanted his uncle's life
but didn't think he had a choice. Tony's father had died before Tony got to know him. A gentle man, his
mother said, who'd died when his car was forced off the road. Tony's mother had killed herself less than
a year later. Uncle Sid was all he had left, and now Uncle Sid was gone too. The closest thing to family
he had left was Carter.

The rest of Tony's life was his to make or break, all on his own. The last tie to his former life was the
cash squirreled away in Carter's van and the fake I.D. in Tony's wallet. As soon as he and Carter got to
California, he'd get that fake name changed to a legitimate new identity.

"You think I'll look good as a blonde?" Tony asked, staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He'd
always been so dark, so serious. He wanted to leave that behind, too.

"Different, you'll look different," Carter said. The television stations changed as Carter thumbed the
remote. "You're really getting into this whole new life thing."

"Yeah." Tony snapped off the bathroom light, padded back into the room on bare feet, and sat down on
the edge of his bed. "How's the Nets' game?" he asked, nodding at the television where Carter had
stopped at ESPN Sportscenter.

"They're losing." Carter pointed the remote with his good hand and the channels flipped by. Discovery
Channel, HBO, USA showing an old Clint Eastwood movie.

"I have to keep reminding myself I'm not betting on the games anymore," Tony said. "Not collecting on
'em either."

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"No more breaking legs when some jerk doesn't pay up," Carter said, then he laughed. "Listen to us,
going on about used-to-be's like a couple of old ladies at St. Luke's."

Uncle Sid had always gone to Sunday mass at St. Luke's, and he made sure all his boys went too. Tony
had never been able to wrap his mind around the hypocrisy. Pray to God to save your soul on Sunday;
order a hit on a business rival on Monday.

Carter flipped the channel a few more times, then dropped the remote on the night stand. The TV was
back on Sportscenter.

"You gonna miss it?" Tony asked.

Carter licked his lips before he answered. "For a while, maybe. I worked hard to be the biggest badass
on the block."

Tony rested his elbows on his legs, his clasped hands dangling between his knees. He studied the ugly
brown print in the motel carpet before he looked at Carter.

"You could go back," Tony said. "Somebody like you, another family'd taken you on."

Carter met his gaze, those hard, soft, liquid brown eyes had seen more pain than Tony could imagine.
Tony's heart beat hard in his chest, but he made himself look calm. He'd gotten good at that, looking
calm while inside he was dying.

"I'm where I want to be," Carter said.

This time Tony dropped his gaze to the floor because he was afraid Carter would see the relief in his
eyes and read it wrong.

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Carter turned off the bedside lamp. The remaining light from the television cast a shadowy nightlight over
the double beds.

"Wanna wrestle for the bed?" Carter asked. His tone made it clear he was teasing, but the low rumble of
his voice stirred something in Tony, the same thing they'd found out about themselves all those years ago
but had always been too scared to act on.

Tony moved over to Carter's bed and sat down next to him, careful not to jostle his shoulder. "Nope,"
Tony said, and he leaned in and kissed Carter on the lips.

After a moment Carter pulled away. His eyes were deep pools of shadow now, but Tony could read his
confusion in the line between his brows.

"You never did that before," Carter said.

He hadn't said no, and he hadn't pushed Tony away.

Tony stroked Carter's face, fingers brushing the rough buzz cut on Carter's skull. "Whole new me," Tony
said. "The new me wants us to kiss and fuck and spend all night in the same bed." He kissed Carter
again, lips pressing harder, and this time Carter kissed back.

"Whole new us," Carter said, and he brought his good hand up to cup the side of Tony's head.

They moved together on the narrow motel bed, mindful of Carter's shoulder but still doing all the things
with each other they'd wanted to since they'd been kids. The television droned on, like the rest of the
world -- forgotten.

#

II. The Van

Tony was bound and determined to make a new life in California. The new life part was fine with Carter.

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It was the California part he wasn't sure about.

The only time Carter'd been west of the Mississippi was to collect for the old man. Carter had gotten
himself into a fist fight in a cowboy bar. He'd won -- he always won -- and he'd brought the old man
home the money he wanted. But Carter had to fuck up the mark bad while the guy's wife sat crying at
their table, mascara running in black ribbons down her pasty face. Carter didn't mind delivering a
message to guys who didn't pay the old man on time, especially guys who used the old man's money on
junker pickup trucks and cheap beer; he just hated doing it in front of their families.

The whole experience had soured Carter on anything that smacked of the West. But the way things at
the restaurant had played out, Tony was now the one surviving member of his family. If he stayed, he'd
be forced to take over and retaliate, and that wasn't in Tony's blood.

Carter had always known that about Tony -- he just wasn't the bruiser type. Tony had learned that
about himself too after a while, and so Carter had made it his own personal business to protect the both
of them whenever he could.

They couldn't stay in Jersey or New York, and Tony hated the South, which was fine with Carter. They
both figured the Midwest with its flat land and rural mentality would drive them crazy, and the old man's
rivals were too fully entrenched in Nevada to make Vegas a possibility.

That left the west coast. California. Glitz and glitter and Hollywood stars. Tony figured he could get a
job working in entertainment. "Been acting all my life," he'd said. So they headed for Los Angeles in
Carter's van.

Carter was used to spending most of his days in the van, driving here and there to collect for the old man
and occasionally busting heads when people got stupid and didn't pay. This cross-country driving was
different. Hours upon hours of flat-ass land with nothing to break up the monotony. Carter would never
take a plane ride for granted again. The only thing that made the whole trip worthwhile was Tony.

Tony. He was dozing in the passenger seat, his head resting on his balled up coat. It was still a shock to
see Tony with blonde hair. He'd bleached it in a motel room on the outskirts of St. Louis while Carter
watched the Lakers' game. When his hair was done, Tony'd climbed into Carter's bed and made him
forget about the game.

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Carter shifted in the driver's seat, remembering.

They'd been together for years, more than just buddies but never really more than that. Wiseguys
weren't fags, couldn't be fags, so Carter'd never thought of himself that way. Besides, guys in general
didn't turn Carter on. Tony was just special. He was the only one Carter had ever felt anything for. They
were a team, they each watched the other's back, they took care of each other. That was it, end of
report.

Now all of that was changing, too. They kissed, deep kisses that got Carter harder than any girl ever
had. And last night, last night Tony had let him, had asked him to...

Carter shifted again, his jeans too tight as his cock grew heavy at just the thought.

The highway stretched out long and straight in front of him, traffic sparse in the lazy mid-afternoon
sunshine. Empty desert, flat and barren, dotted with sagebrush and Joshua trees, the mountains a distant
mirage. Carter set the cruise control at 65 and unzipped his jeans.

He wrapped a hand around himself, but in his mind it was Tony's hand. Tony's mouth. Not his own
thumb dragging across the head, but Tony's tongue, swirling and licking and sucking on him. The first time
Tony'd taken Carter in his mouth had been heaven. Tony had made love to him that night, kissing
Carter's face and neck, tonguing his nipples, trailing licks and touches over all the hard planes of Carter's
body until he was a live wire trembling with need. Then Tony slid down in between Carter's thighs,
stroked his already rock-hard cock, opened his mouth and taken him in.

Carter stroked himself hard remembering that first touch of Tony's tongue.

He came fast that night, came in Tony's mouth while Tony's hands were squeezing his balls. Tony
moaned and sucked him dry and came rubbing himself against the rough motel bed sheets.

New things. Tony was the one who always initiated new things. Like last night.

Carter winced and loosened his grip. He was still sore. Tony had been so tight. So very, very tight. A
soft rumble escaped Carter's throat just thinking about it. He kept stroking himself, remembering.

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"Fuck me," Tony had said. "I want you to fuck me."

They'd both been sweating and breathing hard, eyes glittering darkly in the quiet motel room, their cocks
as hard as Tony's angular body.

"I don't wanna hurt you," Carter said. He'd stroked a hand down Tony's back, grabbed his ass and
pulled him in tight, their cocks rubbing against each other. "This is good," he said, grinding his hips against
Tony. "So good."

Tony moaned against his neck, hot breath caressing Carter's skin. "You won't hurt me," he'd said. "I got
stuff."

"You serious?"

"Yeah. I want this."

Carter hadn't said anything to that. What was to say? He'd wanted it as much as Tony had. So Tony
rolled over and retrieved a tube of something out of his bag. He uncapped it and handed it to Carter.

Carter took the tube, his heart beating faster. "I don't know what I'm doing here."

Tony wrapped a leg around Carter's waist, opening himself up, and kissed Carter gently. "We'll figure it
out together."

Carter reached down between them, between Tony's legs, and found his opening. It was so small, so
tight. He stroked it with a finger and Tony shuddered against him.

"Oh, yeah," Tony said. "Use the stuff, use your fingers. Loosen me up."

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Like he would with a virgin. Carter'd slept with his fair share of girls, but with them it had only been
about an acceptable way to find release. Not like with Tony. With Tony, Cartercame .

He squeezed some of the stuff from the tube on his fingers then stroked Tony again, and when he felt
Tony's opening loosen, slid a finger inside.

Tony bucked against him, grinding his hips in close. "God, Carter, that feels so damn good, you have no
fucking idea."

Carter's own groin was throbbing. He concentrated hard, making sure his finger slid in and out of Tony
real slow so not to hurt him. When Tony felt loose enough, Carter slid a second finger inside.

Tony started trembling, shudders running down his legs and up his body. He gripped Carter, fingers
digging into the back of his neck, dragging him forward. "Fuck me," he whispered in Carter's ear, and
Carter heard the deep need in his voice.

Carter rolled Tony on his back. Tony drew his knees up to his chest as Carter kneeled on the bed.
Carter's fingers kept up a slow, steady rhythm inside Tony.

"You sure?" Carter asked.

Tony nodded. "Just go slow."

Carter wasn't sure he could. Seeing Tony like that, opened up and waiting, cock hard against his belly,
Carter felt like he'd come at the slightest touch. He wanted to be inside Tony. He just hoped he'd last.

Tony had condoms too. Carter managed to get a condom on his cock one-handed, then he squeezed
more of the stuff on himself. The stuff was cold and made his cock incredibly slick as he spread it around.
Tony was warm. Tony would be tight and hot around him, and Carter wanted him now. He took his
fingers out and gripped Tony's legs, pushed them back until Tony's opening was right there. Right in front
of him. He rubbed the head of his cock against it, making them both shudder. He held still for as long as
he could, until Tony groaned for him and his own cock throbbed, then with as gentle a push as he could

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manage he slid inside.

And it was so tight, clenched around him, squeezing him. Tony's hands gripped the bed sheets and he
cried out, panting hard. "Push in, push in!" Tony cried, and Carter did, and Tony groaned again.

Carter had needed to move, needed to thrust, but he held his need in check waiting for Tony. Carter
was buried deep inside, hotter and tighter and more completelyheld than he had ever been in his life, and
it felt so damn good.

Tony had said something in between his panting breaths. Carter leaned down on his elbows, Tony's feet
at his shoulders, Carter's hands gripping Tony's shoulders.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," Tony said softly. His eyes were closed, screwed tight shut, his face
contorted, moisture at the corners of his eyes glinting softly in the reflected light from the room's small
television.

Carter did. Small thrusts at first, but as Tony loosened, Carter pushed in harder until he was ramming
against Tony, losing himself to the sensation of being inside. It didn't take long before Tony's body
stiffened and shuddered beneath him and Carter felt Tony's cock spurt out hot liquid between them. The
smell of Tony's come, of their sweaty bodies and the taste of Tony's skin, the warm glove of Tony's body
squeezing him -- Carter lost himself. He'd buried his cock balls-deep, shuddering and groaning as his
body had emptied itself.

Tony's hand on his arm broke into Carter's thoughts. He glanced over at the passenger seat to find Tony
awake, smiling at him.

"Find a place to pull over," Tony said.

Carter grinned, a little sheepish at being caught jerking himself off. "Aren't you sore?" he asked.

"My mouth's never sore."

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Tony reached over and closed his hand around Carter's cock. A shudder ran up Carter's spine and he
tapped the brakes, taking the van out of cruise. Blowing each other in daylight. A new experience.

He pulled the van off the road.

Carter's van had a console in the middle – holders for bad coffee in cardboard cups or soft drinks in
plastic containers; a compartment with a padded lift-up lid ostensibly for tapes or CDs, maybe a map or
two, but in Carter's van it held his piece while he was driving.

After Carter stopped the van off the side of the road because Tony asked him to, Tony leaned over the
console, one hand braced on padded compartment lid, the other hand wrapped around Carter's neck to
pull him in close for a hard, fast kiss. Carter's cock throbbed in his own hand.

"Climb into the back," Tony said when the kiss ended, leaning back on his side of the van.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Tony nodded at Carter's hard on. "I want that in my mouth." He thumped the console with the a
loose fist. "I don't want this thing in my gut while I do it."

Carter chuckled. He unbuckled his seat belt and climbed over the console into the back of the van, his
cock still bobbing hard out of the open fly of his jeans. Tony swatted him on the ass on the way.

"Hey!" Carter said, a good-natured grumble.

"Stick it in my face, what do you expect me to do?"

"Bite me," Carter said. "All the fuck over."

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"That's what I'm planning."

Carter didn't have a mattress in the back, no back seat either, but he and Tony had picked up sleeping
bags in case they couldn't find a motel room at some point in their cross-country trip and needed to camp
out in the van. Carter unrolled the sleeping bags on the bed of the van, stacked them on top of each
other. He lay down and waggled his eyebrows at Tony, who was still in his seat, turned around watching
Carter.

"What are you waiting for?" Carter asked, a grin on his face. His shoulder was sore, but it was nothing
to complain about. His cock jutted out away from his body and bobbed a little as Carter thought of the
warm, wet heat of Tony's mouth.

Tony wasn't smiling. "Just looking at you," he said. "Always been you and me, hasn't it?"

"Yeah. You and me, just like always."

Tony climbed over the console then, shifted aside a couple of boxes so he could lie down next to Carter.
One hand traced Carter's jawline as Tony propped himself up on an elbow. Carter turned his head to
watch Tony. Something was going on behind his eyes.

"This ever seem weird to you?" Tony asked.

Carter thought about the hot feel of Tony's body last night as Carter'd sunk his cock in deep.

"Not as weird as seeing you as a blonde," Carter said. He cupped Tony's face in one large hand, his
thumb on Tony's lower lip.

"Fuck you. I'm being serious here."

"So was I." Carter leaned in and kissed Tony, lips soft and undemanding. "No matter who else hung with

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us, it was always you and me. I think we always knew, even before we really knew what it all meant.
Knew how fucking good we'd feel together."

"Mmmm." Tony seemed to think about that for a minute. His eyes focused on Carter's mouth. "You got
no problems with this then? Even when we get where we're going?"

Now Carter understood. Too much had changed for them in a small space of time. It was easy to think
all this had happened just because it was only the two of them on the road. Things happened on the road
when they were kids, like Tony's uncle fucking whores in a cheap motel room, that didn't happen once
they got back home.

"The only problem I got is if we go back to the way things used to be once we get there. This--" Carter
cupped Tony through his pants, felt how hard he was. "--I got no problem with this."

Tony nodded. "Good. Good."

Tony kissed him then, not soft, but hard and demanding. Claiming. Carter opened his mouth and let
himself be kissed. Tony rolled halfway on top of him, careful of Carter's shoulder. Carter moaned into the
kiss when Tony's hand closed around him, bucked his hips when Tony squeezed and pulled. He shouted
out an obscenity when Tony replaced his hand with his mouth and sucked.

Blonde head bobbing, Tony sucked him hard, one hand circled around the base of Carter's cock, the
other hand massaging his balls. Carter rested one hand on the back of Tony's head, fingers in that new,
blonde hair.

Carter's hips took up a rhythm, shallow thrusts in time with the motion of Tony's head. This was so damn
good. Better than any chick had ever done. It was almost like Tony knew exactly how Carter felt, what it
took to get him off and get him off good.

Carter groaned as his balls snugged in tight and that tense, all-consuming, primal need started ripping its
way through him. Tony must have felt it, must have known Carter was close, but he didn't move his
mouth away. He sucked harder, fist moving on Carter's cock now too, tongue rough against him.
Carter's body tensed and he came, legs shuddering, and Tony swallowed it all.

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"Fuck," Carter murmured, the word as drawn out and lazy as he felt in the afterglow of his release.

Dust motes drifted in the patch of sunshine from the windows in the van's back doors. Carter watched
the patterns shift and swirl as Tony moved back up his body to kiss him.

Tony's kiss was soft, just a touching of lips. Carter grabbed the back of Tony's head and pressed their
mouths together hard, tongue pushing against Tony's lips. Tony grunted, surprised, but opened for Carter
anyway, let him inside.

"What the fuck was that about?" Tony asked when the kiss ended. "Not that I'm complaining."

"Wanted to know the taste." Carter reached out to grab Tony again, squeezed and rubbed. "Before I
taste you."

Tony groaned, closed his eyes and let Carter roll him on his back. Carter kissed him again as his hand
made short work of the button and zipper on Tony's pants. Carter pushed Tony's pants and briefs out of
the way, took hold of his hard length, pumped Tony until he was moaning and writhing. He took a minute
to watch Tony's face before he turned his concentration on Tony's cock, hard and flushed red, rising out
of a bed of wiry black hair.

Yeah, he wanted this, wanted to keep having this wherever they ended up. Carter nuzzled his face into
that thatch of black hair, rubbed his nose against the base of Tony's cock and pressed his lips against
Tony's balls. Carter's tongue left a wet stripe up the underside as he licked his way upwards. The thick
cock bobbed in response as Tony thrust his hips, and Carter let the momentum drive Tony into his
mouth.

Carter sucked Tony in the back of his van much like Tony had done to him. He compared the tastes,
similar enough but different nonetheless, breathed in the scent of Tony's sex and the damp between
Tony's thighs, and remembered the slick heat hidden there that he'd breached the night before. When
Tony tensed and came, Carter sucked it all down his throat, and he thought about the time he'd wrestled
Tony on a narrow bed in a dark motel room when they'd been kids.

They must have known all along that someday they'd be doing this for real. That someday there would
be sunshine and sex, and no reason to hide what they really were to each other. Carter was all right with

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that. As long as it was the two of them, that was fine by him.

#

III. The Apartment

California wasn't what Tony imagined it would be.

The air felt different out here. Heavy, in a much too bright way, especially when the light was diffused by
a thick layer of smog. The air smelled different too, all dry and dusty, even when it was humid enough he
broke into a sweat without trying. Gone were the deli smells from back home – dry Italian salami and the
sharp, vinegary brine of Kosher pickles, the rich garlic and tomato tang of a good marinara -- and the
aroma of meat roasting in a street vendor's cart. Here it was odor of peppery salsa from an upscale
Mexican restaurant and the sweet cloying smell of fruity drinks named after the stars on Hollywood
Boulevard.

Everything was so open here. The streets were wide, the traffic fast, the sidewalks empty compared to
where Tony came from. Even with Carter at his side, when Tony walked down a sidewalk in the thick of
downtown Los Angeles, even with tall buildings around him, he felt exposed and more vulnerable than he
ever had back home.

Maybe that was the problem. He didn't think of California as home yet. In his heart he was still just a
visitor living among people who didn't talk like he did. Who hadn't grown up in a family where business
negotiations were as likely to end with a gunshot as with a handshake.

Sure, there were rough types here too. He and Carter had seen some of them when they'd driven
around looking for a place to live. Carter had vetoed more than a dozen apartments because he didn't
like the neighborhood.

"Doesn't make sense going from one rathole to another," he'd said, and Tony agreed with him. California
was supposed to be the start of a new life for both of them, not a continuation of what they'd left behind.

They finally found a place snugged against the side of a hill in an area of Los Angeles close enough to
walk to a fast food joint if they wanted but far enough away from the main streets that Carter felt
comfortable. The two deadbolts already installed on the door didn't hurt. Still the protector, that was
Carter.

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The apartment was a one bedroom up a flight of stairs directly over a covered carport. The place was
dingy and mostly empty even though they'd rented it furnished. A cheap, well-used sofa huddled against
one living room wall; a small table with four chairs crowded around it took up most of the floor space in
what passed for a dining room. The double bed had a sorry excuse for a mattress that Carter slept on
only one night before he tossed it in the dumpster at the end of the complex and came back with a new
one he carried up from the van by himself, even with his shoulder still wrapped and aching.

"You're the only one I want poking me in the ass," Carter had said when he'd sent the old mattress
sailing into the trash.

Tony had laughed and surprised himself by swatting Carter on his fine ass. Carter'd laughed back like it
was something they did every day – playing with each other out where other people could see.

They'd never done anything that demonstrative in public. The closest they'd come was fucking each
other in the back of Carter's van, but even then there'd only been the windshield in front and the windows
in the back door to worry about. It wasn't like they'd seen much traffic on the road anyway.

Tony had to keep reminding himself he didn't have to hide in the shadows here. No one would report
back to Uncle Sid about him, no one would beat Tony senseless or put a bullet in the back of Carter's
head because the two of them were fucking each other. Uncle Sid got the bullet. That life was over now.

They'd broken the new mattress in thoroughly that night. Tony had trouble walking the next day. That
was almost the best part, feeling like he still had Carter's big cock buried deep inside.

The absolute best? Going to bed with Carter at night and knowing they'd both be there in the morning.

This thing with Carter -- it felt to Tony like he was a teenager all over again. Horny all the damn time.
The more they fucked, the more he wanted to fuck. Fuck and kiss and hold, and be held in return. Was
this was love was?

Tony sat in front of his laptop, the apartment as dark as it ever got considering a street light was less than
twenty feet away from their living room window. Even with the blinds closed, the place was never really
dark enough Tony had trouble seeing at night.

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He'd bought the laptop with some of the money he and Carter had stashed in the back of the van, in the
hollow between the interior wall and the outer metal shell. The stash wasn't easy to get to, but that was
the point. They'd been stashing money there ever since Carter bought the van with money he'd made
breaking legs for Uncle Sid. Sure, there was a chance some idiot would steal the van, but considering
Carter had a reputation as the toughest asshole on whatever block he happened to be standing, chances
were slim.

Once they'd moved in, Carter had created a similar hidey hole behind the refrigerator. If someone really
tore the place apart, they'd find it, but chances were slim there too.

In theory, Tony was on the laptop looking a job. He'd left Carter sleeping on their new mattress and
come out to the living room to see what he could find on the Internet. He didn't need to wake up Carter
to do that.

The fact that neither of them had landed a job yet bugged him. The money would only last so long. So
he'd piggybacked onto a neighbor's unprotected wireless signal. He could have hacked into a
passworded signal too, but this was easier.

Tony still wanted a job in entertainment. He just wasn't willing to start at the bottom. New life or not, he
was used to being in a position of some authority. Middle management, Uncle Sid had called it. Tony
wasn't about to brown nose some college boy just to bring home a weekly paycheck that was less than
what he'd made in a day working for his uncle.

The search frustrated him enough that his mind started to wander, and what it wandered to was Carter.
Tony paged through ad after ad without really seeing anything on screen. He was too stuck on the idea
that for the first time in his life, he might actually be in love.

Imagine that.

They were lovers, no question there. Tony had no experience with any other man than Carter, but he
doubted fuck buddies held each other in their sleep, kissed each other tenderly even with the kind of
breath that would melt steel. Carter liked his pizza with enough extra garlic to kill Dracula just by
breathing on him. Most people couldn't take it, but as far as Tony was concerned, that was just part of
who Carter was.

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He caught himself smiling at a memory of Carter catching a bottle of mouthwash Uncle Sid had lobbed
at him.

"What?" Carter had said, a big, goofy grin lighting up his eyes, making him look like anything but one of
his uncle's top enforcers. "You giving me a hint or something?"

He'd been pelted with tins of breath mints and sticks of chewing gum by his uncle's cronies. Carter had
taken it all in good humor.

Tony was still smiling when he heard Carter's bare feet shuffling on the carpet.

"Good porn?" Carter's voice was rumbly from sleep, his words spoken around a yawn.

"Might as well be."

Carter was dressed only in well-worn boxers. Tony always liked seeing Carter like this -- his broad,
muscled, nearly hairless chest, shoulders wide and bulked up, tapered waist, cock and ass hidden
beneath soft plaid. Tony liked the anticipation that came with thinking about stripping Carter's boxers
down almost as much as seeing him naked.

The light from the laptop screen put the hard planes of Carter's body in sharp relief. Smooth skin, deep
cuts between thick muscles. Tony felt himself grow heavy between his legs. He shut the laptop down. He
wasn't getting any work done, not tonight. Not with Carter looking like that.

"You ever think we're gay?" Tony asked. "With what we're doing?"

Living together. Fucking. Making each other hard just by being in the same room.

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"Why? You find some gay porn that turned you on?"

"Get your mind off porn." He wasn't about to tell Carter he'd been looking for work. Carter hadn't found
work either, but then again he hadn't really been looking. Not until Tony got settled. Carter the protector.
Carter the lover. Carterhis lover.

Tony got up from the couch. "Looking at you makes me hard."

Carter looked at Tony's crotch. "I can see that."

"That's what you do to me. Just looking at you. Nobody else."

Carter made a rumbling sound deep in his chest. Tony always thought he sounded like a big cat – a lion,
maybe – whenever he did that.

"Then why we gotta put a name on it?" Carter walked the few steps it took to bring him to where Tony
stood. "It just is what it is."

Carter's philosophy on life. It got him through the things he'd had to do for Uncle Sid, back when Sid
wanted him to do more than bust up legs.

Tony reached for Carter's boxers. Carter was hard too, his cock tenting up the soft cotton. "No names,"
Tony said, and he pulled the boxers down, a slow reveal of Carter's muscled ass and thick cock.

Tony sank to his knees and took Carter's cock in his mouth.

He'd dreamed about something like this, back when they were both kids in a crap motel room in Jersey,
each sleeping alone on a double bed. Carter was hard and hot and filled Tony's mouth as he slid in and
out past Tony's lips and teeth. It had taken Tony a while to get it right, to keep his lips tucked around his
teeth, to learn to breathe between the thrusts that filled his mouth. Carter had been patient, never
complained when Tony's gag reflex kicked in and his jaw closed reflexively even as he backed away to

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catch his breath.

It is what it is.

Tony sucked harder and closed his eyes, concentrating on the dark, heady scent of Carter's body and
the rumbly groans of pleasure he made. Carter's hands were on his head, cradling him, not guiding; just
another connection.

This was love. Not fucking. Tony's own cock was rock hard, but Tony never once thought about pulling
off Carter's cock and asking him for a blow in return, or bending Carter over so he could sink himself in
Carter's ass. Tony didn't even put a hand on himself. This time was for Carter, only for Carter, and if that
wasn't love, Tony didn't know what was.

Except, maybe... maybe always being Tony's protector. Maybe that was love too. No matter what, no
matter who else wanted something from him, Carter had always protected Tony. When the bullets flew in
that restaurant back in Jersey, Carter had stayed by Tony's side and protected him. Got hurt in the
process, but still he protected Tony.

That had to be love too. As much as sucking on Tony's cock or fucking him, that was love.

Carter's fingers tightened in Tony's hair, and Tony knew Carter was about to come. He could have
pulled off and Carter would have understood, but Tony kept sucking on him. With a series of grunts and
sharp thrusts, Carter came. Tony swallowed all of it.

When he leaned back and looked up, Tony found Carter gazing back at him. It could have been a trick
of the light – low light and deep shadows creating something that wasn't there – but Tony knew he saw
love on Carter's face.

"I don't want to stay here anymore," Tony said, surprising himself even as he said it. He took one of
Carter's hands and threaded their fingers together, made a fist with both their hands. "This isn't the place
for me. I don't mean just the apartment. This city. This just won't ever be home."

Carter just nodded. "Wondered when you'd realize that."

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"You knew?"

Carter's other hand caressed Tony's head. "It's not just changing your hair or sucking me that's gonna
make you a new person. You're still the same guy underneath, and that's okay. You don't have to be a
new guy. But who you are's not gonna be happy in a place like this city."

All true. Tony had been so obsessed at starting over in this city he hadn't taken the time to realize that he
didn't much like the place. He'd never thought of what he might do once he got to California except a
vague notion about working with movie stars. He hadn't gone on any job interviews because nothing felt
right here. Nothing but Carter. Maybe nothing would ever feel right again no matter where he went.

"So where should we go?" Tony asked.

"The next place. Until you find the place that's home."

Carter pulled Tony to his feet and kissed him. The kiss felt like home. Carter's hard body in Tony's arms
felt like home.

"I love you," Tony said once the kiss ended. "I suppose you're gonna tell me you knew that too."

The laugh rumbled through Carter's chest. "I'd be blind not to. Blind, deaf, dumb." One of Carter's
meaty hands cradled the side of Tony's face. "Still made me feel good to hear it."

Carter hadn't said it back. Did Tony need him to?

"C'mon back to bed," Carter said. He backed away, tugged on Tony's hand to lead him to the
bedroom. His cock had gotten hard again. Tony's ached.

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"Think I'm that easy, do you?" Tony smiled as he said it. He was that easy when it came to Carter.

"Never. Just want to show you how much I love you. You got any problems with that?" Carter smiled,
that crooked smile that flashed his white teeth in the dark apartment.

He'd said it. Maybe in the only way Carter could, not a flat out declaration, but just as part of a bigger
truth. It was good enough.

Tony followed Carter through the apartment, climbed into bed beside him, and let Carter make love to
him. He could be fooling himself. He might discover the only place he felt at home was back in Jersey.
They might travel for years from one place to the next only to discover the only place that felt right was
where they'd started.

If that was the case, he'd deal with it. They'd deal with it just like they always had. Together.

Wiseguys

Copyright © 2007 by Aaron Michaels

All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever
without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For
information address Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680

Printed in the United States of America.

Torquere Press, Inc.: Sips electronic edition / October 2007

Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680

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