Sonny is Hell
Vinnie sat back in the booth, watching Sonny dance and nursing a drink. Sonny had done more than nurse his drinks, but Vinnie couldn't afford to get drunk. Sometimes he wished he could - get drunk enough to tell his secrets - all of them. Sonny would probably kill him for being a Fed. Sonny would probably kill him for being a fag, too. Send him straight to hell, just like all the priests said, even the ones who *looked* at him in that way. Even his brother, who didn't look at anyone that way.
He already was in Hell.
Hell was Sonny. Hell was Sonny giving him his love and his trust and knowing he didn't deserve it, and wanting to deserve it. Hell was loving a man who deserved to be in prison and knowing you were going to send him there.
Hell was loving Sonny.
He danced with some dyed blonde hooker from the casino, all hairspray and red polyester and legs. He was even good - no one got into the music like Sonny did. The music stopped, and the girl tripped over her heels. Sonny tried to catch her, but he fell, too, laughing.
Vinnie jumped out of his seat to get him before he hit the ground, but he was no Superman. Sonny was already picking himself up before Vinnie got there. Still, he could take Sonny's hand for a moment, slip a hand around his waist.
"I'm cool, Vinnie. Thanks." Vinnie let his hands stay where they were, just to make sure Sonny had his balance back. "But I think I'm going to call it a night." He smiled at the peroxide whore, who stood on one leg while holding on to one of Sonny's boys. "You okay, sweetheart?"
"Yeah, Sonny. I'm fine. But I broke my heel!" She held up her shoe to demonstrate.
"Mikey, make sure she gets a new pair. On me." The guy nodded, and she grinned. "I'll see you tomorrow, honey, okay? Show me the new shoes." He smiled at her. "Come on, Vinnie. We gotta discuss some business before we turn in."
"Sure thing, Sonny." He forced himself to let go. He already held on too long. Except Sonny didn't shrug him off, which didn't make any sense. And then, in the elevator, he told his bodyguards to get lost.
"What, you think Vinnie's gonna do something? Vinnie, you gonna do something?"
He made himself grin. "Yeah. Gonna jump your bones on the way up." That got all of them laughing.
"That a threat or a promise?" Sonny hit his shoulder as the elevator doors closed on them. Vinnie stepped away as soon as Sonny punched the number of his floor. "Where you going? I thought you were going to jump my bones." He put his hands on Vinnie's shoulders.
"You're drunk, Sonny. I'm going to put you to bed so you can sleep it off. We'll talk business in the morning." He tried to pry his hands off, but Sonny wouldn't let him.
"I'm not drunk, and you can't fool me. I know that look."
"I was just joking. Same as always. And you had six drinks. I counted." The doors opened. He walked out as soon as he could. Sonny kept pace.
"I had six drinks that had so much water in them I couldn't taste the booze, and what are you doing counting my drinks, anyway?"
"It's my job. I'm your right hand man. I have to know when you've had enough. But if you're watering them down, I guess I don't have to." He unlocked Sonny's door. "Maybe you should go in alone."
"You're coming in with me. And we're not talking drinks, either." He dragged Vinnie in by the waist. "No more changing the subject." He turned on the lights and pulled him to the couch. "Sit." He walked to his bar and poured two glasses of whiskey. "This is not watered, and you are going to drink it." He sat down next to him and handed him a drink.
"I don't want to drink, Sonny."
"I do." He tossed off half the booze. "Because I am about to do the stupidest thing I've ever done in my life - this gets out and I'm dead. But you have the most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen." He put down his glass, put one hand back on Vinnie's shoulder and kissed him on the mouth.
Vinnie knew he should fight him off. Sonny might not have been drunk, but he'd regret it in the morning. And he'd be severely compromising the case if he gave in. His head told him to push Sonny away. His arms brought Sonny in closer and his heart approved. He let Sonny's lips devour him, let him take off the expensive clothes and drop the gun on the floor by the sofa, and then he did the same for Sonny, letting his hands roam all over Sonny's body.
"Why...what...Sonny..." Sonny grinned and pulled him to the bed, pulling the blankets to the floor and pulling Vinnie on top of him.
"You know what it is, Vinnie." He started kissing all over again. His hands were everywhere, and they knew what they were doing. He'd done this before. Vinnie knew that as well as he knew he'd done it before, too. "Anyone finds out you're a fag, you might as well put on a dress, right? So you dance with the girlies, and you marry when you can't put it off anymore and picture baseball players or something to get it up with her so you can have a dozen kids." His hand was on Vinnie's cock now, and he was moving it and Vinnie couldn't even think. "But you gotta have a man sometimes. You're going to hell anyway, right? So you take your life in your hands. And I gotta have you."
"You...you got me, Sonny." He did. He belonged to Sonny right now, body and soul and to Hell with McPike and Washington and Mama and everything else. Sonny had him, and Sonny knew just what he was doing.
"Turn over, Vinnie. Turn over for me." Vinnie did. He turned onto his stomach on the soft white sheets, and then he got onto his knees and spread his legs. He knew what was coming, he'd craved what was coming for years now - he didn't dare let his other cover, his straight cover, drop in prison - and he went straight to Sonny. "I saw you watching me tonight with those gorgeous, gorgeous eyes and I knew I wasn't seeing things. You want this, Vinnie. You want me inside you, don't you?"
"Just do it, Sonny. Do it *now*." He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He just wanted. And there were Sonny's hands, slick and cool, right *there*, working their way in, slowly.
"Damn, you're tight. You a virgin there?"
Vinnie could only shake his head. "Just...just long time."
"Oh, well." They knew just what to do, those hands. Sonny knew just what to do, and he was gentle. Maybe too gentle - Vinnie pushed against them, willing him to put more in, to put *it* in. "You like it harder, do you? Oh, yeah." He heard foil tearing. "Got the clap once from some teenager. Not doing that again." Now Sonny's hand was on his hip - large and strong and holding Vinnie still as he positioned himself. And then he was there, and then he was *inside* - one smooth movement that hurt better than anything else ever had, and now Sonny wrapped his hand around Vinnie and was kissing Vinnie's neck and moving and he'd found that spot with his cock and there was nothing else. Nothing at all. Nothing in the past, nothing in the future. Nothing. Just Sonny and his hands and his cock and his mouth and he was filled and stroked and there was nothing else until the world exploded around him and inside of him and he collapsed on the bed with Sonny still inside him, Sonny on top of him and Sonny kept kissing him.
And then he turned Vinnie over and kissed him on the mouth again. "I'm getting married. I don't even like her as a person, but I'm getting married."
And Vinnie couldn't even hate her. Maybe when he met her, maybe when he saw her in his Sonny's arms, but right now, he couldn't hate her.
He was too busy hating himself. He'd found Heaven, and it was right here in Hell.