Dear Readers,

This is a short little bit that arrived to me, ironically, in the shower. If some of you don't understand the pairing or fandom, I get it. I've yet to come across another person who's read the "Smoke" series. This is also meant to be humorous… cause it sounded funny in my head. Here we are: a Henry/Tony bit. It's really very short… cause it's nothing to expand on. Just a funny. Only mild and implied slash here, people. This is also a CANNON pairing. :P Really… go read the "Smoke" series… it's just as good as the "Blood" books, I promise.

Your Obedient Servant,
R.W.

They would never be the way they were. Things would never be the same. And he didn't want them to be. True enough, there were moments—like after sending two demons back to their respective level of hell—where he wished violently that nothing had changed. Those moments were often fleeting, yet recognized by both men. Tony had not spent six months living on his own and working as a TAD on Darkest Night, making an independent life for himself, just to be thrown back into the possessive world of Henry Fitzroy, vampire.

He would never complain, however, about the moments like this—or the sex. Henry had been hurt, he had needed to feed. Tony was willing and they both knew it was what they had been missing. The last couple of weeks had been strained and tense. Their last argument had blown up, but still needed fixing. Even now, cracks still remained in the relationship. Granted, they would always be there. Tony had grown used to Henry's nature. He understood that he, his blood, was Henry's. But lately, Henry had been spending more and more time with CB. It was tiring to fight for his ground; the show, the soundstage and everyone involved were Tony's, not Henry's.

Tony tiptoed away from the sofa bed and away from Henry's lingering gaze. Tony disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door, leaning up against the cool wood. He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding and closed his eyes briefly. Tossing his towel across the closed toilet, he turned to grab the shower faucet, twisting the handle to the hottest temperature his skin could stand.

The water pressure in his apartment building was far from grand, but it was there nonetheless. He scrubbed at his face to wash away the sleep and fatigue of working television hours only to come home and stay up the rest of the night having sex with his ex. Tony had just gotten lost in the feel of the heat and steam from the water coursing down his body when he heard the shower door open and re-latch. He registered the noises only faintly, but it was the hand curving around his waist to the front of his body, reaching outward, that scared the living crap out of him.

"Jesus Christ, Henry! What the fuck!" Tony jumped and spun around, facing the naked man in front of him.

Henry's signature smirk was playing across his lips and those waving, red-gold locks were plastered to the side and front of his face with the water. Tony felt his knees go slightly weak at the sight, then remembered he was supposed to be put off.

"I was just going to reach for the loofa, Tony. Don't get so… worked up." The smirk turned devilish and one of those eyebrows rose as the vampire glanced downward.

Tony's brows knit in confusion and then he looked down at himself. The tide was coming in early and he was at half mast. All aboard!

Blushing, Tony whipped around to put his back to Henry's vision. Not saying a word, he grabbed the loofa hanging from one of the faucet knobs and began to lather himself. He mumbled angrily the entire time. A normal person could hardly make out the fact that Tony was saying anything over the streaming of water. Henry was not a normal person.

The vampire closed in on his prey, listening to the, "Just getting the loofa, my ass. My fucking loofa. Get your own, you don't stay enough to use mine, god damn it" under-breath. The breath sucked in by the young man told Henry that he had the other man's attention. As the vampire's deft fingers brushed just past the base, Henry soon had Tony's full attention.

To relax the tensing muscles, Henry rubbed and kneaded across Tony's body, tenderly supplying… release. Tony's head leaned backwards to rest on Henry's shoulder, mouth open in light pants. Henry's mouth found Tony's and quickly ravaged it, asking Tony for the loofa once again. When Tony passed it over, Henry paused, confusion and amusement washing over him.

"Tony… this loofa is pink," he said softly as the youth regained his equilibrium and stood straight under the stream of water.

"And?" he responded dryly.

"It's hot pink."

"Newsflash, Henry, I'm gay."

"What does that have to do with it?"

"It means I'm allowed to have a pink loofa. Being gay in this century means it provides an excuse for a lot of situations. Like owning a pink loofa." There was a pause. "Or being caught going down your female best friend's boyfriend in the campus bathroom."

"What?" Henry's brows rose.

"Long story."