Title: This Perfect World
Pairing: Syd/Vaughn, Will/Vaughn
Warning: m/m slash
Summary: You don't always get what you want.
Notes: I can't seem to decide if this a W/V story with an S/V twist, or if it's an S/V story with a really bizarre W/V angle. So, you be the judge.
Many thanks to Karen T and Celli, my beta-readers.
Also, here is the cover art for this story: http://rhysenn.morethanart.org/alias/perfectworld.jpg
Same garage. Same elevator.
The doors opened, and Vaughn was standing inside, alone. Will hesitated before he stepped in; Vaughn hardly glanced at him as the elevator doors hummed shut.
Same silence. Same routine.
Vaughn reached out and pushed the emergency stop button, and the elevator jerked to an abrupt halt. He was unfazed as he turned to Will, a smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Thanks for coming to meet me on such short notice," Vaughn said amicably. "I realize that you have a busy schedule."
Will gave Vaughn a measured look; he tried to decipher if it was just polite talk, or carefully chosen words that concealed a sharp knife. He was sure Vaughn knew he had lost his job with the newspaper, and that his time was divided between N.A. meetings and hanging around at Sydney's house doing nothing at all.
Same charade. Same lies.
"Right," Will said weakly, unable to hold Vaughn's calm, unwavering gaze. Being around Vaughn made him feel so... inferior. "So, uh, what's the problem?"
"Nothing to worry about," Vaughn said; but Will was far from comforted. Vaughn cleared his throat. "I just wanted to talk to you about Sydney."
"What about her?" The words left Will's lips too quickly. "Is she in trouble?"
"Oh, no, she's fine," Vaughn swiftly reassured him; he tilted his head and smiled wryly. "Actually, I asked you to come here in a personal capacity. This isn't exactly an official CIA meeting, even though I used the phone call about consolidating debt to pass you the message." Vaughn paused. "I'm glad you remembered that."
"I recognized your voice," Will answered tersely. "So what do you want to ask me about Sydney?"
"Well," Vaughn began, "as Sydney's handler, we work very closely during missions — and I feel I need to get to know her as well as I can. It'll really help our working relationship."
"Don't you see her like, twenty hours in every day?" Will couldn't stop himself from asking. "I mean, with all those 'business trips' she goes on..."
"I don't go with her on every one of those," Vaughn replied smoothly. "Although yes, we've been on missions together, but the nature of our work doesn't often let us spend much quality time with each other. In terms of ratios, Will, I think you win the lion's share of her personal time."
"Which is hardly any, when you come to think about it," Will said, thinking of the countless times Sydney's beeper had cut short their conversations.
"It's not the time that matters." Vaughn's voice hardened, and a shimmer of emotion flickered in his eyes. "It's how you can spend it with her. You can talk to her anytime you like, you can hold her hand and walk down the street with her..." Vaughn broke off, and hesitated briefly; his eyes glazed with sadness. "Things that... I'll never be able to do."
Will was slightly thrown by Vaughn's sudden, truthful words; he took a step backwards, and found himself understanding why he had every reason to be worried about losing Sydney to Vaughn. It wasn't just that Vaughn was young and handsome and had the most beautiful, emerald green eyes — but he also had a certain charisma, which people very quickly found themselves attracted to. It was only human.
And Will knew he was too fucking human for his own good.
*Focus, Tippin.* Jack Bristow's words echoed in his mind. Trust Sydney's father to diagnose his problem so effectively. Will steeled himself, and tried to concentrate on the conversation he was having with Vaughn. The conversation, and nothing else.
Will didn't know why Vaughn's questions about Sydney made him feel so edgy. Maybe...
Maybe it wasn't even about Sydney, after all.
Same feeling. Same denial.
"What do you want to know about her?" Will managed. He bit on his lower lip. *Focus.*
"Anything you can tell me." Vaughn shrugged. "What is she like when she's relaxing at home? How does she spend her time?"
Will cast his thoughts to the times they had spent together — doing the simplest things, and yet in retrospect, Will realized how special and unblemished those memories were, touched by an innocence that was gone now. He'd never be able to look at Sydney as the overworked grad student juggling schoolwork with her bank job from hell. The 'from hell' part was probably the most accurate.
"She reads a lot," Will began, sifting through the images in his mind of Sydney around the house. "Books, language books mostly..."
"That's for work," Vaughn said shortly. "She needs to be fluent in many languages." He took a step towards Will and sounded somewhat impatient. "What does she do besides that? Does she cook?"
"Well, Francie usually takes care of dinner," Will said, contemplating the effect that increased proximity to Vaughn was having on him; and more than that, the unspoken intensity in Vaughn's feelings for Sydney. What it was like to want someone who could never be yours... Will saw that in Vaughn's eyes, and it was like gazing into a perfect mirror of his own soul.
Vaughn was standing close enough for Will to smell the fragrance he wore, fresh like something off the rack of Ralph Lauren. Will closed his eyes and continued. "After that, we sometimes play a game of cards. Poker. Sydney usually wins."
Vaughn took a step closer. Will gave up trying to think straight.
"What kind of pajamas does she wear?" Vaughn asked.
"Pajamas?" Will echoed spiritlessly. "Look, if you're going to ask me about her underwear next..."
"I won't," Vaughn shot back, giving Will a half-serious look; but a rare smile flitted across his face, silhouetted in his eyes that deepened to the color of jade. "Just the pajamas."
"She wears a long-sleeved top and pajama pants set," Will answered; he couldn't help smiling, too, in spite of the tension that strung his body like a wire drawn taut.
"Ah." Vaughn looked satisfied, and casually leaned in a little more. "I knew she wasn't a floral dressing gown sort of girl."
"She isn't," Will said through clenched teeth.
A wistful smile curled Vaughn lips, and he seemed lost in thought for a long moment. The silence was unnerving, reverberating endlessly in the enclosed space within the elevator. Will waited, hanging on the edge of a moment that was almost too surreal for belief.
Vaughn, close enough to touch. His eyes, blazing like green fires, earth and sea. His mouth, parted slightly in a question waiting to be asked.
"Have you..." Vaughn's voice trailed off pensively, and he raised his eyes to meet Will's. "Have you kissed her before?"
"What—" Will stared at Vaughn incredulously. "What did you say?"
"Have you ever kissed Sydney?" Vaughn repeated, a barely perceptible quaver in his voice.
Same question. Same answer.
"Yes." Will exhaled the word in rush of breath. "Once. We were... both kind of drunk."
An undefined emotion crossed Vaughn's face — not jealousy, but not acceptance, either.
"How was it?" Vaughn asked softly, moving closer, and there were barely inches between them now.
Will opened his mouth, but no reply emerged; and he could only gaze at Vaughn. He found himself lost in those eyes that shimmered with desire, raw and hazed and confused... but still, desire nonetheless, and a perfect reflection of his own desperate need.
"Tell me," Vaughn said again, and his voice was a seductive, relentless whisper. "What did it feel like, kissing her?"
"Hard to describe." The words felt like lead on Will's tongue, articulated with the greatest effort.
Vaughn halted, just short of their faces touching. Will forgot to breathe.
"Then show me."
Vaughn's words were all the invitation that Will needed.
The distance between them dissolved into nothing — and the next thing Will knew, Vaughn's mouth was warm and wet against his. His hands tangled in Vaughn's short hair, locking him into the kiss, not that Vaughn showed any intention of turning away. Will slid his tongue past Vaughn's parted lips, and felt the hot velvet of Vaughn's tongue rise to meet his.
Kissing Vaughn was so different from the way he kissed Sydney, and yet alike — it was something he wanted to do more than anything else at that moment.
Same yearning. Same surrender.
And that was why Will didn't protest when Vaughn broke away, breathing harshly, his face flushed with arousal. Why he didn't need to be asked, and he dropped to his knees in front of Vaughn and began to unbuckle his belt. Vaughn braced himself against the elevator wall; Will's hands trembled as he lowered the zipper and unfastened Vaughn's pants, dragging them halfway down his legs.
Will pulled the boxers down and took Vaughn's rising erection in his mouth. The response he elicited from Vaughn was as gratifying as he could ever want — Vaughn jerked, and his whole body tensed, and he threw his head back as a low moan ripped from his throat.
Will felt a surge of satisfaction as Vaughn's cock hardened in his mouth. He sucked slowly, drawing out the moment. Vaughn writhed against him, urging Will forward, to take his entire length completely. Will did.
Will let his tongue swirl in flat licks around the shaft, as he savored the feverish twitches that shuddered through Vaughn's body, rigid between him and the wall.
"Feels... fucking... good..."
Vaughn was thrusting into his mouth now, his strokes quick and intense; Will could feel the rhythm building, spiraling inexorably to the climax that was close, oh so very close —
And Vaughn came inside Will's mouth, pouring himself out in quick, hot spurts, gasping the same name over and over again. Will choked slightly, but still managed to swallow; Vaughn tasted salty and bittersweet, like the aftertaste of coffee and almonds.
Will rose to his feet slowly. His legs felt numbed, and his mind was spinning. In front of him, Vaughn quickly pulled up his pants and zipped them; then leaned against the wall of the elevator, still catching his breath, panting softly. Will watched him, and said nothing. Vaughn had already said it all.
The awkward silence seemed to fray Vaughn's nerves first.
"Look, Will," he started, still slightly breathless. "I don't know how we just— "
"You asked," Will replied simply.
"Right." Vaughn actually blushed and averted his eyes. "I did." He hesitated. "Listen, about Sydney..."
"She won't know about this," Will said blandly. It didn't matter anymore.
"Not just that," Vaughn dithered some more. "When I, uh, said her name..."
"Are we done?"
Vaughn gave Will one last despairing look, and then gave up.
"Yes." He reached over and pushed the emergency stop button again. "I'll, uh, contact you if there's anything else."
Like another blowjob? Will thought; he silently nodded, as the elevator doors opened. When you need to feel the mouth of one of Sydney's best friends around your cock, as you pretend it's her?
Vaughn cast him another quick glance before he swiftly stepped outside, and was gone.
Will slumped back, and let himself slide down the elevator walls as the doors closed once again.
Same ache. Same truth.
A hollow pain gnawed deep within him, a place Vaughn had claimed and held and flung aside within the short span of time they had spent together in this elevator. He had let himself *feel* for Vaughn, and that proved to be his undoing.
And now, the silence was just another reminder of the emptiness that remained, after passion had flared and subsided, after Vaughn had walked away. To Sydney.
In a perfect world, things would have been different.
- fin -
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