V: Vic and Matt Series

The V in Valor-3

After breakfast, Matt cleared away the plates while Vic fought a silent battle of wills with the cat, who stretched out across the open newspaper, making it impossible to turn the page. Vic tried anyway, covering the cat with the sheet of newsprint, but he hadn’t begun to read the story on the other side when the cat began chewing at the paper. “Get off my table,” Vic admonished, slapping the table near the cat’s tail.

The cat stared at him, unperturbed, then resumed washing itself.

Matt laughed as he sidled up to Vic’s chair. “Is the big, bad kitty cat bothering you?” he teased, easing an arm around Vic’s shoulders in a half-hug.

“The big, bad kitty cat’s going to find his furry ass dumped on the floor in a minute,” Vic growled.

The cat ignored his threat and sat up a little to begin licking its belly. One graceful hind leg rose in the air, and the faint slurping sounds the cat made as it cleaned itself sounded gross. But when Vic made a move to pick up the cat, its muffled purr turned to a low growl that ended in a hiss seconds before Vic pulled his hands back.

With a look of resignation at his lover, Vic asked Matt, “See what you started?”

“Leave it alone,” Matt said, tugging on Vic’s robe. “We were heading back to bed, weren’t we? Unless you have something else in mind. The shower, perhaps? Or hey, how about here?”

His hand rubbed down the front of Vic’s chest to fist around the knotted tie that held his robe together. Deft fingers worked the fabric free, then delved beneath the flannel panels to tickle over Vic’s muscled belly. Vic sat back in the chair as Matt’s hand danced across his stomach and chest, tweaking one n****e when his finger caught on the hoop pierced through it. Leaning against his lover, Vic wrapped an arm around Matt’s denim-clad thigh and his hand angled between Matt’s legs to press up against the seat of his ass. As Matt bent down to claim a kiss, Vic murmured, “You know it’s watching us.”

Matt snickered. “It’s a cat. What, do you think it’s going to tell Mrs. K everything it sees once she gets back?”

Vic didn’t answer and Matt leaned into their kiss, pinning Vic back to the chair. His hand dipped down over the slight paunch at Vic’s abdomen and below his smooth pubic mound to grasp at the semi-erect length between his legs. Vic’s meaty c**k jumped into Matt’s hand, and his lover moaned into their kiss as Matt massaged his firm length. ::Here’s fine,:: Vic admitted, sinking down in his seat and spreading his legs to allow Matt access to his most intimate spot.

But when Matt cupped his balls, Vic froze. Matt’s mouth brushed against the side of his lover’s face as Vic turned away. “What?”

A furrow creased Vic’s brow. “Mrs. K.”

With a bark of laughter, Matt stood and leaned back against the kitchen table, his hand still lost in the folds of Vic’s robe. “Way to spoil the mood, Romeo. She’s not exactly on my mind when we’re getting it on. Is this about the cat? Because we can still go to the bedroom if you want.”

Vic shook his head. Extracting Matt’s hand from between his legs, he raised it to his lips and kissed his lover’s knuckles. “No, I mean she’s headed back. I just picked up on her thoughts as she turned onto the street.”

Matt sighed. “Which means now I have to wait.”

Every Saturday, their landlady went grocery shopping. Before Matt had come into Vic’s life, Mrs. K used to leave the groceries in her car and stop at Vic’s door to ask if he’d help her. Now with Vic’s telepathic ability, he anticipated her arrival and met her at the curb to help carry her groceries up the stairs to her third floor apartment. His super strength made it easy—no matter how many groceries she had, he always carried them up in one trip. No matter how tired he might be, or how grumpy he was after waking, Vic never complained.

And Matt loved him for it.

“Five minutes,” Vic promised. “You can deliver her cat while I carry the bags, and we’ll pick up where we left off once she’s in.”

With a stretch Vic stood, and Matt stole one last, lingering kiss as he recinched the belt on his lover’s robe. Holding onto the loose end of the ties, he let Vic lead the way into the kitchen. At the sink, Matt stopped and tugged on the belt, bringing Vic back to him for another kiss. “Make it quick,” he murmured against Vic’s lips. “I hate waiting.”

While Vic dressed, Matt rinsed the breakfast dishes and deposited them into the dishwasher. He was bent over, tucking the dishes into the lower rack, when Vic came back, dressed in jeans and a crisp white undershirt. With the flat of his hand, he smacked Matt’s ass playfully. “Don’t forget to bring the cat,” he said, heading for the front door.

“I didn’t think you’d let me.” Matt wiped his hands on a dishtowel, then scooped the cat off the dining room table.

It began to purr the moment he touched it, and in his arms, it rubbed its head underneath his chin as if it’d known him for years. “Good kitty,” he murmured, scratching it behind the ears. His voice took on a childish quality, as if he were talking to a baby. “I don’t know why Vic won’t like you. You’re so soft, so pretty. Such a good kitty, aren’t you? Aren’t you?”

In his mind, his lover’s gruff voice spoke up through the telepathic bond they shared. ::If this is the way you talk to all animals,:: Vic threatened, ::we’re never getting a pet.::

Ignoring him, Matt made kissy noises as he cuddled the cat. “Don’t listen to him, Tibbles. He’s just jealous I’m loving on you right now and not on him.”

Matt laughed at the groan his lover directed his way. ::You’ll be petted and cuddled soon enough,:: he promised. ::You’re not the only one with a spoiled pet.::

::I didn’t mean it like that,:: Vic answered. He stood outside on the curb; leaving the door to their apartment open, Matt wandered out to the landing and could just see the gleam of sunlight off the top of Vic’s bald head through the window above the outside door. ::I meant—::

But whatever he planned to say disappeared as a late model white Cadillac slid to a stop in front of their building. With the cat in his arms, Matt waited at the top of the stairs as Vic helped Mrs. K with her groceries. Well, “help” was exactly the word for it—the landlady was in her seventies, and probably couldn’t lift the first bag. So all she did was open the trunk; Vic carried everything himself. She stood on the stoop and waited for him, then held the door open as he stepped inside their building.

Before Vic could start up the stairs, however, Mrs. K slipped in front of him to lead the way. She took the steps one at a time, leaning heavily on the railing as she hoisted herself up. Only once both feet were on the step would she advance to the next. And the next. And the next. Vic glowered up at Matt as he trailed slowly behind her, frustration darkening his eyes. Matt buried his face against the cat’s neck so their landlady wouldn’t see his smirk.

Step by shuffling step, Mrs. K neared the landing where Matt stood, but she didn’t look up to see him until she reached the top step. “Marvin!” she said, smiling not at him but at the cat he held. “I see you found Tibbles.”

“It’s Matt,” he answered gently. She always got his name wrong. Did he look like a Marvin to her?

With a frown, Mrs. K pushed her thick glasses up on her thin nose and peered at the cat. “No, that’s Tibbles,” she announced. “I’m sure of it.”

Behind her, Vic coughed to cover his laugh.

Narrowing his eyes at his lover, Matt threatened, “Do you want to carry the cat?”

Vic shrugged, rustling the paper grocery bags he held in both hands. “My hands are full.”

Nodding at the cat, Mrs. K asked, “Be a dear and bring him up for me, will you?”

Without waiting for an answer, she started for the next flight of stairs. This time Vic managed to get in front of her and, with his long strides, reached the door to her apartment well before she even started up the steps. But Matt wasn’t so lucky—he had to trail behind, the cat growing restless in his arms, as she slowly ascended. More than once he let out an annoyed sigh, but it didn’t seem to make Mrs. K move any faster. At the top of the stairs, Vic had deposited the groceries in front of the door and now leaned over the railing, smirking, as Matt glared at him. ::Hurry up, slowpoke,:: Vic teased.

There was no way to edge around the landlady without knocking her down. ::Next time carry her up with the groceries,:: Matt told his lover. ::This can take all day.::

Vic’s eyes twinkled with suppressed laughter. ::You can’t rush an old lady.::

Finally Matt reached the landing. As Mrs. K shuffled to her door, jingling her keys to find the right one, Matt stepped up to Vic and foisted the cat off onto his lover. Vic tried to back away and couldn’t—the railing creaked beneath his weight. The cat clawed at the front of his shirt as he grappled with it. “Matty, what…”

“Your turn.” Matt waited until Mrs. K ducked into her apartment before he planted a quick kiss on Vic’s cheek. “Ask her if we can have pets.”

“What?” Vic juggled the cat in his arms, trying unsuccessfully to hold onto it. After a few wiggly moments, it leapt out of Vic’s embrace and bolted for the open door. Brushing off the cat hair left behind, Vic said, “I’m not asking her that. We don’t need a pet.”

For a long moment, Matt just stared at Vic, the look on his face neutral. He didn’t have to pout or beg to get his way—after a minute or two, Vic sighed and ran a hand over his scalp, as if smoothing back hair he no longer had. “No.”

Matt didn’t answer.

Turning his attention to the groceries, Vic gathered the bags in his arms and followed Mrs. K into her apartment. As he passed through the doorway, he stuck out one foot to keep another adventurous feline from slipping out into the hall. Inside, he set the bags down and reached behind him to close the door, and his gaze found Matt’s once again.

A low growl tickled the back of Vic’s throat. “Spoiled,” he said, his voice gruff. He closed the door, shutting Matt out in the hall, but through the thin wood, Matt heard his lover call out, “Mrs. K? We had a question about our lease.”

Slowly, Matt grinned.