Title: You Are What You Read

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They all belong to whoever they belong to. I just like to play with my favorites every now and then. I'll give them back as soon as I am finished.

Summary: AU - What happens when Sonny discovers that someone in Port Charles has been writing some very steamy romance novels. Starring him!


Chapter 1
Antoinette Heart

Perfume he could handle.

Maybe a pair of earrings forgotten in the nightstand drawer or an old pair of sneakers hidden in the bottom of the hall closet, these were all acceptable, insignificant items that could have been left behind during the move. Unfortunately, for Sonny Corinthos, it wasn't jewelry or shoes his ex-wife, Carly, left behind the day she left his home for the last time.

Granted it was a hasty move. The last months of their most recent, and final, marriage were only prolong for the sake of their sons. They tried to make it work but were missing the one thing that had always driven them back into each others arms: love. The love that had once overpowered them had finally faded into a comfortable friendship.

He would always care for Carly. She being the mother of his sons, it was inevitable that they would never be out of each others lives, but to exist without the affection they once shared for the sake of show wasn't fair for anyone. No longer being husband and wife would never change the love they gave their sons.

So divorce it was.

Quick and quiet, barely making the Port Charles Reporter due to the amicable split, it was the most uncomplicated divorce seen in some time and due to his sons positive acceptance Sonny couldn't be happier.

Until now of course.

Because it wasn't earrings or an old sneaker Sonny had found wedged between the cushions of his sofa. Sonny's current torment was due to the discovery of a book. But not just any book. Oh no! Not just any book could unnerve the head of the mafia in the seconds it took to read its title and glimpse at the illustration on its cover. Only a romance novel could cause such harm.

A romance novel owned by his former wife.

When he had first found the paperback, dimples flared and he had laughed harder than he had in a long while. Hell, Sonny's first thought was of teasing Carly about it the next day, when she stopped by with the boys. He had already begun brainstorming what teasing line he could say while presenting her with her forgotten reading material. As his laughter began to settle, the most horrible question arose in his thoughts.

Why the hell had Carly been reading this while they where together?'

Currently the book lay on the coffee table across from where he sat and Sonny was engaged in the one battle he could never win: a staring contest with an inanimate object.

As he fumed it mocked him mercifully. It's well read and worn pages bending back the cover most scornfully, as if to suggest Carly had ready it hundreds or perhaps thousands of times. Once was obviously not enough!

If books could laugh this one would be in tears.

The bright purple letters of the book's title were blinding him as he felt the stirring of a headache. The Rising Sun it read. Yeah, he could give you one clue as to what the 'rising' had to do with it.

"Ug!" he groaned, pushing himself from the cushions and walking towards his bar, mind set on rinsing the taste of the cheap and trashy title from his mouth.

What's wrong with Oprah's book club? You don't see Steadman's sexual ability questioned by Tuesday With Morrie do you? No. His libido is solid, whereas Sonny's is now saturated with uncertainty.

Not really the thing the head of the mob should ever have to be concerned with.

"Damn-it, it's just a book," he growled, slamming his glass onto the bar's marble surface. With determination Sonny quickly hurried towards the fireplace and quickly tossed a match onto the awaiting wood and crumpled paper.

Suffering in need of an end, Sonny turned and snatched the evil bundle of paper and ink from the coffee table. Grasping it solely with his thumb and forefinger and with his arm extended, he moved towards the growing flames.

With its death quickly approaching, the book gave one last pleading look towards its captor, which in Sonny's opinion was pathetic and pointless because his mind was already made. This was one crime he'd gladly stand trial for, if only to ease his suffering. He had half the mind to start humming the death march if it weren't for his men stationed outside the closed living room doors.

Giving the silly cover one last glance, he laughed at the scene illustrated on it. The couple was dressed like characters straight out of Gone With the Wind, though Sonny doubted Scarlet would have ever showed as much cleavage as this woman. Her head was thrown back, (in what Sonny assumed was a fit of passion or maybe some sort of seizure induced spasm) her disheveled auburn hair cascading down her back and exposing her long and slender throat to the man in her arms.

The man was "surprisingly" shirtless with dark slacks unbuttoned and hanging too low for Sonny's comfort. He was grasping the woman with his right arm, mouth firmly attached to her neck, while his other arm hung at his side, a riding saddle dangling from his grasp. He had jet black hair, tied loosely at the base of his neck, and dark olive skin that stood out greatly against the more feminine and pastel colors of the illustration.

The blazing flames of certain death momentarily forgotten, Sonny was unable to stop staring at the man on the cover. There was just something so familiar about him. Olive skin, dark hair, a pair of dimples, a…hold it!

Olive Skin. Jet black hair. Dimples.

Raising his gaze from the book to the mirror resting above his mantel, Sonny let his own dimples surface as a sudden awareness surfaced.

This man looked very similar to himself. Hell! He could have been his twin! Continuing with this thought process he was no longer angry at Carly. She had only bought the book because this man on the cover had reminded her of her husband, a very logical concept in his opinion.

"Sonny," a familiar voice came from behind him.

"Huh," Sonny snapped out of his thoughts with the sound of nearing high heals. Turning towards the entrance to the living room, he was greeted with the site of Max letting in his ex-wife. A small blush suddenly covered his cheeks and he immediately hid the book behind his back.

"Didn't you hear me calling you?" Carly questioned as she stopped in front of him.

"Sorry, I was…just thinking," he mumbled running his free hand through his hair, a nervous breath caught in his throat. 'Hey! There's no reason for me to be embarrassed,' Sonny thought to himself. 'Carly was the one who bought the damn thing and left it behind!'

"Sonny, are you all right?" Carly asked looking at him strangely. "You seem a little out of it."

"I'm fine," he answered giving her a quick reassuring smile. "Why'd you stop by? I wasn't supposed to see the boys until tomorrow."

"Oh, I know. The boys are at Bobby's for the afternoon. I just came by because I think I left a few things here," she stated lowering her eyes from his to dart around the room while her hands began playing nervously with the strap of her purse. "Have you found anything of mine or…or maybe the boys?"

"Like what?"

"You know how I get those nagging feelings sometimes and I just know I left something behind."

"Well if I knew what you were missing it would be a whole lot easier to help you find it," Sonny answered with a quick grin. "Earrings? Perfume? Hey, maybe a pair of sneakers?"

"No…nothing like that."

"Actually, now that you mention it I think I saw some old paperback laying around here somewhere".

"Oh! Oh good," Carly replied with a nervous smile. "Do…do you remember where you saw it last." She spoke her last words as she turned away from him, searching through the stacks of magazines and books in the room.

"What was the title? I could ask Max or Jason if they'd seen it anywhere," he teased, knowing exactly which book she had misplaced.

"No! Don't trouble yourself Sonny. It's around here somewhere and I'm sure I'll find it eventually."

"Say," he began, almost unable to suppress his grin. "If you're in need of a good read, I just got my hands on this great little book." As he spoke he pulled said book from behind his back and pretended to read the back cover so that its front was facing Carly. "I found it quite memorable."

"Oh God, Sonny!" Carly squealed before desperately reaching out for the book. "You read it! Oh my god!"

"Oh, you know it! What was your favorite part?" Sonny asked teasingly as he moved it out of her reach.

"Sonny, stop!"

"Calm down, Carly. It's nothing to be embarrassed by. You're not the only person on earth who reads this stuff."

"I'm not embarrassed! It's just…can I just have the book, Sonny."

"So, how many of these did you have hidden around?" he asked as he opened the book and skimmed down the page. "This is really Pulitzer Prize material isn't," he laughed before he began to read a passage out loud.

"Emma moaned deeply as she was thrust against the wall behind her, the cold stone sizzling against the heat of her aroused skin. Then he was on her, teasing every exposed inch of flesh with his forceful hands and soothing tongue. When he finally lifted her from the ground, she instinctively wrapped her thighs tightly around his waist and clawed his linen shirt away from his chiseled chest."

"Sonny, please stop," Carly pleaded, still trying to reach for the book.

"No way," he grinned, moving around the couch and blocking her arm in one swift motion. "This is getting good."

Dramatically clearing his throat, Sonny read on.

"Emma cried out in pleasure as her lover finally gave them the release they both had been craving for, with one swift thrust of his firm hips. Gazing down at the man she had loved from afar, her heart swelled with the love and affection his gaze offered. In reply to his telling eyes she could only moan his name, but that was all he needed to know she felt the same as he. Sonny…"

Carly held her breath as Sonny froze mid sentence and stared down at the pages with confusion. His eyes grew wide as he read on and after he had finished that page he began hastily turning the pages of the book.

"W…what," he stammered, his eyes blinking rapidly. "What is this Carly?" he finally spit out, pointing accusingly at the pages opened in front of him. "What the hell is the meaning of this?"

"Sonny," she began, softening her voice in hopes of softening his anger. "It's not what you think it is."

"Not what I think it is?" he practically shouted. "I think it's a trashy romance novel with me as it main character!"

"Sonny—"

"How could you Carly?"

"Excuse me?" Carly questioned, looking at him with a hand to her hip. "What are you accusing me of?"

"How could you publish this?" Sonny asked, slamming the book shut. "You made me into some sex crazed stable boy! For anyone to read!" Laughter was not the response he had intended from his outburst and it only fueled his anger as Carly tried to hide her smirk behind the back of her hand.

"You think this is funny?"

"Sonny—"

"To…to have intimate details published for others entertainment!'

"Sonny—"

"I feel so betrayed Carly. What made you think that this—"

"Sonny!" Carly finally shouted. "I didn't write the damn thing!"

"Carly," Sonny began with disbelief as he turned to the first pages. "There! Right there! 'Port Charles Publishers, Port Charles New York'! How do you explain that?" Without letting her reply he quickly shut the book and pointed towards the cover. "That's my fucking mirror image Carly!"

Getting angry herself, Carly quickly snatched the book from his hand and ran her finger under the words printed at the very bottom of the cover.

"By Antoinette Heart, does that look like my name Sonny?"

"A pen name then."

"If I had the nerve to publish a book about the man I'd been secretly infatuated with for years, don't you think I would have published it under my real name? And when have I ever hidden those kind of feelings Sonny? Especially from you."

"If not you, then who?" he questioned, taking the book back from her.

"Does it really matter Sonny?" she asked, watching him grimace at the cover again. Turning away quickly, she hid the sudden grin that came across her features. Carly knew damn well who had written it, but there was no way in hell she was about to tell Sonny. He was no way near ready for that truth. "Just take it as a complement and be happy with the fact that you have a secret admirer."

"Be happy knowing that some total stranger is this obsessed with me!"

"Sonny it's just a book—"

"Carly—"

"Sonny, have you even read any of it?" she questioned, turning back. "Aside from…well besides what scenes you obviously have," Carly added with a little grin. "Just because its got a cheesy title and the front cover is a little…ok I can see why you would be upset, but it's not that bad and the book itself was well written," Carly stated walking up to him, trying to calm him down.

"Not that bad?" He proclaimed angrily.

"So, someone in town has a crush on you. That's a good thing you know," Carly teased, pulling the glass he had just poured from his hand. This was no time for a drunk Sonny.

"Publishing a book about some crush is a little much, don't ya' think?" he said before snatching the glass back and downing the contents.

"Sonny, everyone has fantasies. Just because this 'Antoinette Heart' makes some money from her's doesn't mean you have to freak out."

"What should I do then, Carly? Anyone could have written this," he whined pointing towards the book. "I could pass them everyday and not even know. Carly it could be anyone. God, it could be…" he stopped himself, shuddering at his recent thought.

"Who?" she inquired, worried at whose name had popped into his head.

"I don't even want to think about the possibilities," Sonny groaned looking down at the book in his hands, trying to push Laura Spencer's former flamboyant assistant, Elton, as far out of his thoughts as he could. This was a nightmare. Anyone could see this cover and recognize him. Even the name was the same, granted 'Antoinette' had the decency to change the last name, but still how many Sonny's lived in Port Charles?

"Sonny, just take it like a complement and drop it," she suggested.

"I can't." Shaking his head he moved away from the bar and towards the front door, the book still clutched in his hands.

"Where are you going?" Carly asked as she watched him pick up his coat off the desk chair, slipping the book into its pocket.

"I have to know," Sonny simply stated.

"Know what?"

"Who Antoinette Heart is."

Before she could call out a response, he was gone.

TBC