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With some help from a long-time contact, Vincent and Leo managed to secure a motel room for a night of much-needed rest. Relatively off the radar, and with any luck, it would provide safe haven until the next phase of their plan to take down Harvey.
Twisting the tarnished key into the doorlock, Vincent opened it, and Leo shouldered past him to step inside first.
Vincent lingered in the doorway, taking in the scenery.
The place smelled like cheap perfume, carpet cleaner and a hint of mold. The mustard-colored bed spread clashed garishly with the burnt-orange carpet, and he instantly noticed a Pollock-like spatter of stains. Vincent cringed. For $15 a night, he supposed it could be worse, but it wasn't great, either.
The quality certainly didn't hinder his younger partner in crime.
"A real bed, baby!"
Leo instantly laid down and sprawled out on his back in bed, looking as happy as if he were staying in a five-star resort.
"Beats a jail cell, in any case," Vincent said, both to agree with Leo, and to reassure himself.
Locking the door behind him, and bolting it just for good measure, he pocketed the room key and then drew the patterned drapes, preventing any onlookers from glancing in the window. By now, their faces were plastered all over the newspapers. His handgun removed from his jacket and set down upon the bedside table, he went to inspect the tiny bathroom. Just the essentials... a shower, sink and toilet. At the very least, it would be nice to get clean while they laid low.
Lost in thought as he stared into the modest mirror above the sink, he saw Leo's reflection regarding his backside, cozy as a king.
"You think the tv works?"
"I don't know, why don't you turn it on?"
Leo shrugged his broad shoulders. "I'm cozy, man."
Vincent sighed. He silently walked over to the dusty television perched upon the dresser, and turned the knob. After a few moments of static, the screen zapped to life, showing an image of two newscasters.
"Maybe not the news tonight," Vincent grumbled, and switched the channel. It was some sort of game show, the kind that Carol liked to watch, which Leo instantly seemed invested in.
Feeling restless, Vincent gestured towards the bathroom. "Mind if I shower first?"
"Nah, go ahead." Leo waved his hand, and Vincent gave a nod.
He stepped into the little restroom, and closed the door behind him, slipping his shoes off. Neatly folding his clothes on the sink, he was soon undressed, stepping into the shower and adjusting the faucet to allow blissfully hot water wash over him.
Vincent sighed in absolute relief, allowing himself to relax somewhat. As he exhaled, the warm water made him realize how sore he was... how the muscles of his shoulders were taut and tensed, the pinch in his neck suddenly very apparent, as was the aching of his knees.
"I'm getting old," he mumbled to himself, hands running over his face.
At least the place had provided soap and shampoo, and he washed up, unsure of how long he stood there enjoying the peace and quiet.
It was Leo's frantic yelling that pulled him out of his reprieve, causing adrenaline to pump through his veins and his heart to race. He didn't give himself time to turn the shower off, jumping out of the bath tub soaking wet, and pulling a towel around his hips. As he busted open the door to the main living area, he was expecting to see police officers and a gun pointing at him, but instead he saw Leo standing on the bed, with what appeared to be the motel room's Bible in hand, brandished like a weapon.
"Vincent! I saw somethin' move!"
"Saw what move?!"
"I dunno man, it was big, like a rat or some shit!"
Vincent's grip on his towel formed a fist.
"... you interrupted my shower over a rat?"
"You're the one who came runnin'!"
"While we're wanted men, what did you expect?!"
"Listen, just do something about it, okay?"
Leo extended his hand with the Bible out to him, but Vincent was running his fingers through his soaked hair with his free hand.
"Let me get dressed first," he mumbled, and retreated back into the bathroom.
He dried off, and slipped his underwear, slacks, and paisley shirt back on. It figured that Leo would find something to freak out about. The man had a list of phobias longer than their current offenses.
Vincent exited the bathroom, finding Leo comically perched at the edge of the bed, knees drawn up beneath him, as if the orange carpet was made of actual lava.
"Which way did it go?" Vincent asked, deadpan.
"I think it's under the dresser."
Vincent shrugged, and crouched down on the floor to investigate. "Why don't you go shower while I deal with it?"
Leo gave a nod, for once cooperating, and he practically ran towards the bathroom to safety.
Though he briefly wondered why he'd agreed to all of this, Vincent kept watch for any rodents while Leo showered. When nothing showed, he let himself sit down on a corner of the bed, truly exhausted. All he really wanted was a good night's rest... hell, he'd even take a couple of hours.
When Leo appeared again, his favored pompadour was deflated, an unusual sight as his long hair hung over his eyes and across his forehead. He was wearing his jeans and a t-shirt.
"Did you kill it?"
Vincent shook his head. "No luck. He's probably halfway to Ohio by now."
Leo looked hesitant before joining him on the opposite edge of the mattress. "I heard that place is crap."
"Nothing but corn and cows," Vincent said.
He silently watched as Leo pulled a comb from his pocket, slicking his hair back and making him look much more typically Leo. When he was finished preening, he flattened a hand against the mattress, patting it for emphasis.
"You think we'll both fit?"
Vincent shrugged, shoulders sagging. "I can sleep on the floor."
Leo was instantly disgusted. "Ew, man, that's fuckin' nasty. Between the rats and like... I think those are bloodstains."
"Could be."
"You tired?"
"Yeah, pretty tired."
"I guess being in the same bed isn't the worst thing we've done. Hey, can we sleep with the tv on?"
"Sure."
Vincent took it upon himself to get up and move towards the head of the bed, pulling the sheets back. He got under the covers, making sure he was as far as possible towards the right side of the bed, allowing Leo ample space.
His eyebrows rose when Leo got up, noticing that his partner was unbuttoning his jeans.
"Hey, don't look, I can't sleep in jeans man, they're restricting."
"Suit yourself."
He looked long enough to see Leo's blue denim slip over the curve of his ass, before he focused on the television instead, waiting for him to get in bed.
As Leo sat down and pulled the covers over his hips, he rested on an elbow to regard Vincent.
"Hey, no cuddly shit, all right? I don't cuddle."
Vincent raised his hands. "You don't have to tell me twice."
He rolled over, flicking the lamp on his side of the bed off before settling on his back. "Good night, Leo."
"'Night."
Exhaustion creeping bone-deep, Vincent didn't even remember drifting off. His dreams were disjointed visions of police lights flashing... high speed chases, rainy rooftops, and near-death falls. But among all the chaos was a single, shining vision... not as his wife, as he might expect... but of his wise-cracking partner.
Dark hair, thick sideburns and his prominent nose. Like a movie playing in his head, their hands clasped. Their breath was shared. Leaning in close, noses barely touching... lips creeping closer, closer...
And a loud, obnoxious snore broke through his subconscious.
Vincent was back in the musty motel bed, but he was prevented from moving by a dead weight against him.
Leo definitely wasn't on his side of the bed any longer, damp hair against his goatee as he laid on his shoulder, snoring against his chest.
His first instinct was to panic, attempting to wriggle away from him, and it was then that he realized that Leo had an arm wrapped around his waist, and a leg draped over him, keeping him pinned.
"Leo..." he groaned, his heart thumping loudly in his ears, "hey, Leo... wake up."
Vincent shook him slightly, but Leo didn't budge. A heavy sleeper, unlike him. He tried again, this time physically moving Leo's arm to unlatch, to absolutely no avail as the other man just moaned in his sleep and clung more tightly.
Exhaling a frustrated sigh, Vincent was about to push him with all his might, when Leo shifted in his sleep, tucking his head neatly beneath Vincent's chin. He dared to look at him from over his own nose.
Leo looked... oddly peaceful. All that misplaced anger, paranoia, and child-like energy finally at rest. It was the first time they'd stayed in an actual bed, instead of outside on the open earth, or inside of a vehicle, since their jailbreak.
Suddenly, Vincent didn't have the heart to move him.
Instead, he was noticing how pleasant Leo's hair smelled, the motel shampoo making it fragrant and intoxicating. The way he snored was oddly calming, utterly at peace, and it made him wonder how long it had been since he had the warmth of another against him.
For Leo, it had been even longer.
Blaming it on sleep-deprivation, Vincent found himself nuzzling his chin against the top of Leo's soft head of hair, the arm not pinned by Leo moving to stroke his well-kept locks.
If he were awake, Vincent would surely be a dead man for doing such a thing. So obsessed was the other man, that it was absolutely off-limits. In fact, he could hear several obscenities clearly in his brain: 'touch my fuckin' hair and you're a dead man!'
Something so simple, yet he felt he was committing a crime above the rest as he let his fingers run through those shiny, slick, strands.
To his surprise, Leo seemed to like it, curling closer in his sleep and making a contented little noise.
Vincent chuckled quietly, feeling like he was petting an overgrown puppy. Leo's hand moved a few inches, from around Vincent's waist, upwards to rest against his chest as he shifted in his sleep before settling again.
His heart beat faster.
He should wake him... knowing full well that Leo would deny it ever happening, lash out, and somehow blame him. Plus, he was pretty sure Leo was drooling on his shirt.
But Vincent didn't bother.
Maybe it was selfish, or fucked up, to relish in such intimacy. But, he had other, more pressing matters to dwell on... things far more dark and vicious than cuddling another man.
For now, he held Leo close, closing his eyes once again, ready to allow his dreams carry him to a morning where they would pretend this never happened, continuing in their pursuit of hunting Harvey and completely dismissing the strange chemistry they shared.
But before he drifted off again, Vincent pressed his lips to the top of Leo's forehead, hoping that he got a good night's rest without panic or fear.
'Good night, Leo."