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Real Life is Nothing Like the Sopranos

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So it's another grey day in the middle of fucking nowhere, they can't get the set up right again ('Early lunch, everyone!') and Vin is bored. He knows his lines, can recite them backwards if he has to, he finished his book yesterday, and he's not in the mood for swapping life stories the way the other guys seem to like.

The fight scenes aren't scheduled for another two days to make sure he's not all scratched up too soon and yeah, it makes sense. It's just-- he hates to be an action guy cliché but the bar fight? That's his scene. Totally his scene of the entire fucking movie, and he can't wait to get it down the way he sees it in his head.

Everyone else seems pretty cool about the delays, but Seth's fidgety too, fingers tapping out a beat on the rickety table that Vin should maybe recognize but he can't quite place, and he doesn't need to be more on edge, not when he's three days into nicotine withdrawal.

"Enough," he says, and Seth's hand stops. Too quickly.

"I think our characters should be fucking, man," Seth says conversationally, and Vin's not sure how, but he knows when he looks up that Seth's going to be looking at him.

"Good one," Barry says, and there's a ripple of laughter.

"Nah," Andy butts in, and his elbow is sharp in Vin's side. "Taylor's totally hot for Matty, am I right?" The laughter is louder this time, brighter.

"I think you got the wrong idea about this guy," Vin drawls out, and his casual smile might be for everyone, but the lift of Seth's eyebrow says message received.

***

As soon as he hears footsteps on gravel behind him, Vin knows who it is.

"I was serious, you know," Seth says.

His voice is low, right behind Vin, but he keeps his eyes fixed on the horizon. The edge of whatever town this is looks better in shadows, and sunsets are cool everywhere, especially if you can look like a mean son-of-a-bitch while you enjoy them.

"So was I."

Seth ignores him. "I think it would add something to both characters if they were fucking. Off-screen, of course. Just think of the kick at the end. Taylor feels as betrayed as Matty. It'd be cool."

"Do you know who these guys are?" It's as if Seth hasn't read the script. Surely Seth's read the script. He must know how things work. "These guys don't do things like that. They don't fuck each other, they'd never survive."

"Huh." But Seth doesn't sound offended, just thoughtful as he paces forward a little, one more shadow on the edge of town. "Okay. What if they were in prison together? Say, more Oz than The Sopranos. Taylor'd protect Johnny, right?"

Vin grimaces, 'cause clearly the guy watches too much TV, but he's got a point. "I guess so. Yeah."

"Because they're friends."

Vin's agreed enough, and he knows a trap when he sees one, but Seth doesn't wait for him anyway, just turns so Vin can see his face, shuffles his feet on the crunchy gravel of the track. "Johnny would want to thank him for that."

Vin's lungs are full of cold air, and he's not sure what he'd say anyway, but Seth doesn't seem to mind. "I've a bottle of JD if you get thirsty," he says, and though Vin doesn't hear him leave, there's nobody there by the time he looks.

***

"I don't do this," Vin says when Seth opens his door.

"What, drink?" It's almost dark in Seth's trailer, just a lamp on low and the TV a murmur in the background. "Or socialize?" He pours them both a drink, slips a little, licks JD off his fingers with a little too much relish and a lot too much tongue.

"This," Vin says, and Seth's neck is as cool under his palm as his mouth is hot when he licks the taste right back out of it, the burn on his tongue part bourbon, part need, and he's no idea why because even if he did do this, Seth surely wouldn't be his type, never has been before. Vin likes muscle, and it's safer to look at it in the mirror, touch someone who won't tell, ever.

He doesn't do this.

"Not bad," Seth pants out, his eyes gleaming in the dark. He's already unbuttoning his jeans, wrestling his shirt off. "Anything else you don't do?"

"Couple things." Vin doesn't shove other guys' jeans to the floor, doesn't grip their shoulder tight and their dick tighter, doesn't flex his fingers, stroke and jerk, or get hard watching them swell under his touch, hearing them gasp down his ear.

He doesn't replace the fading burn of JD in his mouth with the sour tang of sweat and pre-come, doesn't love the way a dick feels in his mouth, filling it up to stop all those words and thoughts tumbling out that all his self-control sometimes can't. He doesn't know how to suck a guy right down, know when to swallow hard, know when to slide a finger in his mouth, slick it up, rub behind a guy's balls and let it push inside, send a guy over the edge.

He doesn't love the way his mouth tingles with the taste of a guy's come, either.

***

"So, last night didn't go quite how I expected," Seth says, when Barry and Andy are dicking around with the punch bag and they're waiting for lighting to get their act together again.

"No?" Vin takes a drag on his cigarette and thinks maybe Taylor should smoke too. Yeah, that'll give him what he needs for the character. He's too tough to give a fuck about cancer, even if Vin gives up every other week.

"No. Not that I'm complaining."

"But?" There's always a 'but' when someone's not complaining.

"I kinda feel like I owe you."

If Vin tries, he can still find the taste of Seth and maybe even JD in his mouth, even though he's on his fourth smoke of the day already. More than that, he's pretty sure Barry and Andy are avoiding him when he's with Seth. Maybe some of the crew guys too. It's a pretty macho set, and Seth doesn't even try for macho. He'd miss if he did, but that's not what matters.

"You don't."

"Still."

Vin drops his cigarette, crushes it underfoot. Fuck it. "Ten o'clock," he says. "I'll be there."

***

"You can fuck me if you like," Seth says, and the bourbon is still in his hand. He sets it on the table, slides between Vin's knees, tugs at his zipper, gives a low whistle.

"This is good," Vin says, when he remembers how to speak, and it is. Seth's mouth is all over his dick, leaving it spit-slick and glistening when he pulls back, admires his handiwork.

"You sure?" Seth says, and maybe there's a little plea in his voice. "I mean, I have stuff. You know?"

"Yeah." Vin's hands are gentle, but unless Seth wants to stop, they're going to keep his mouth in the vicinity of his dick. "It's just—"

"Another thing you don't do?" Seth's teasing, but his voice is curious, and Vin guesses he can't blame him for that.

"Something I save for—" he stops, not sure how to express it. "For you know. Things that involve dates. Going out."

"So, relationships," Seth says slowly, and Vin nods. "Okay."

He sucks Vin off like a pro, and Vin has no complaints, but there's a distance that wasn't there before and he doesn't ask Vin again, just refills his drink a few more times and falls asleep with the empty glass in his hand.

Vin takes it off him before he leaves.

***

"So, this guy on the crew, you know," Andy says nervously, not glancing at Barry next to him for a change. "He says Seth hooked up with a guy last time they worked together."

"Yeah?" Vin's hungry, his food is getting cold, and he doesn't give a shit if Seth hooked up with every guy in Hollywood, wouldn't whether they were sucking each other's dicks or not. Which, you know. Maybe they are, and maybe they're not any more. This isn't a movie, or even TV, and he hasn't read the last scene. The only thing he knows for sure is that this isn't the fucking Sopranos. Nobody's dying today. "So?"

Barry leans over, his shoulders hunched. "Just. Be careful, you know?"

"No," Vin says, and his scowl does its job when Barry flinches and leans back in his seat. "I don't."

"Hey guys." If Seth notices only Vin greets him he doesn't let it show, and his smile looks genuine enough, if maybe a little raw at the edges. Bourbon'll do that to you.

"I was thinking about what you said." Vin waits till Seth's sat down, conversation rustling along the table again with the wind, before he speaks, pitching his voice low, private. "About Taylor and Johnny."

"Yeah?"

Vin nods. "I think maybe you're right."

Seth looks at him, eats a forkful of spaghetti as he ponders. "About the prison thing?" he asks carefully, and if there's wariness there, again Vin can't blame him.

"Nah. Well, maybe." As usual with Seth, things are going a little off track. "But I was thinking, maybe they have another motel room, you know? One the others don't know about."

"Interesting." Seth licks his fork clean, and Vin remembers what that tongue can do, drums his fingers on his thigh a little too hard. "So they go in there and what. Give each other blowjobs when they're drunk and bored?"

"Maybe." Vin wants to look at the others around the table, see if they're listening yet, but Seth's eyes are sharp in the midday sun, and he can't look away. "Or maybe they just go for it. These guys ain't pussies."

He can see the moment Seth's eyes soften. "We should discuss that further, maybe."

"I heard there's a good bar next town over." Vin's voice is louder now, and he can tell Barry and Andy perk up at his words, so it's deliberate when he only looks at Seth. "Wanna give it a try tonight?"

"Sure." Seth grins, and there's mischief in his eyes. "It's a date."

"Whatever," Vin growls, and his hand is heavy on Seth's shoulder, his mouth too close to his ear. The rest of the table is silent, as if holding their breath, but if they breathe again after Vin presses his lips to Seth's neck, he's too distracted by Seth's smile to notice.