Comfort.

It was one of those endless days where it felt like California was kicking his ass, and the only thing Eric Murphy wanted to do was go home to his palatial home in the hills, sit by the pool with his boys and drink beer until the sun went down. Instead, he was stuck in an tumultuous round of negotiation calls with the studio over Vince's latest movie, and it didn't appear that either side would be giving up any time soon. He was unyielding in the minimum Vince would accept for playing a widowed father in the latest Nora Ephron rom com set to be shot in two months, even if Scarlett had signed on as the female lead and Gary Marshall was set to direct. It was almost guaranteed box office gold if they could land Vincent, but E wasn't about to let them know he was sold just yet.

"I told you that we weren't taking less than seven, Addison," he reminded the executive over at Sony, his voice deceivingly booming and demanding. The truth was that he still wasn't comfortable in the board room. The expensive suits and svelte haircut were still just a front. Inside, he was always going to be the mouthy Irish kid ready to throw down at a moment's notice whenever said anything about his best friend. "I know that you've been talking to Topher and Jake. If you really think that they'd be a better fit for your little pet project, I suggest you start calling their people now. Maybe they would be okay with accepting this shit offer you're trying to pawn off on Vince."

A victorious smile spread across his lips as he heard Addison sigh in defeat. Ten short minutes later, his assistant was bringing in a stack of contracts for him to review and have Vince sign. However, those papers would have to wait because he had a meeting with Charlie across town for lunch and then a two o'clock with the guy heading up post-production on the indie flick Vince wrapped up last month. He would swing through Ari's on the way back toward the house to sign off on some promotional stills the studio wanted to put out ahead of the big release next month.

Eric was already running a half-hour late when he showed up in front of the Ivy to find an annoyed Charlie waiting impatiently inside the front door. He tossed the keys to his beautiful new Aston Martin – an updated gift from Vince to mark the one-year transition in their relationship – to the valet and strolled into the restaurant. He was already in the middle of apologizing when Charlie waved his hand dismissively. After two years with the Murphy Group, Charlie was used to playing second fiddle to Vincent Chase. He figured that there were a lot lesser stars he could share a manager with and was just happy that Eric wasn't too busy to keep him on his client roster.

"I know, I know, you're sorry that you're late," Charlie grinned while leering suggestively at the beautiful, petite hostess leading them to their seats. Eric rolled his eyes and was reminded, not for the first time, of how Vince looked at girls up until a year ago. "So how is the career of the Mister? Is he signing on for that big romantic comedy with Scarlett Jo?"

"The ink should be dry tonight," Eric answered tiredly. He scanned the menu before settling on his usual lunch at the overpriced hot spot. His bank account might be larger these days, but Eric still budgeted every penny carefully. He knew that it could all end tomorrow, and he would be left trying to figure out how to stretch every dollar to cover Vince's lavish tastes. "Besides, I thought I told you to quit calling Vince that."

"Face it, E, you might as well be married to the man," Charlie teased before returning his attention to the pretty hostess and ordering a lunch that only made Eric wince a little bit.

After an hour with Charlie and a new script he promised to pursue on his youngest client's behalf, Eric was back in the Aston Martin fighting traffic on La Cienega while Oasis kept him company. He tapped his fingers in time to the slow beat and contemplated calling Vince just as traffic started to loosen up. "Dammit," Eric muttered under his breath as he missed his turn because some jackass in a Mercedes cut him off at the last minute. He made the loop one last time before pulling into the lot behind some hidden studio. He didn't even bother checking his hair as he slid from the car, setting the alarm on his way into the back door. Eric had given up needing to impress anyone last year, after Vince had gotten his first big nomination and they had been accepted into Hollywood high society. The boys from Queens had officially arrived, and when Vince had kissed him into the back of the limousine the night of the Oscars, it had quit mattering to E altogether,

"Murphy, you're late," Jamison declared as soon as he stepped into the editing bay. Eric rolled his eyes and shrugged, not really caring what the guy had to say. He was low on the totem pole in terms of the movie. Eric just wanted to see the trailer as promised and get over to Ari's. "Your assistant told me that you would be here at two."

"I did my best," he said unapologetically. He knew that it was past three now, but that's how things went sometimes. He hated to be late; his mother had ingrained manners in him from an early age. Still, he had learned that sometimes it was okay to make someone wait for you. He was on top here, not the other way around. "Let's see what you've cut together, Jamison. I'm hearing good things. Don't let Vince down."

"I don't see Vince anywhere around here," the older man replied as he pressed play on the computer. Vince's beautiful blue eyes illuminated the screen as the two-minute film preview started to stream. Eric watched as unbiasedly as possible, trying to think what he would have thought of the trailer when he was thirteen years old and sprawled out on the couch over at the Chases. Would he have wanted to see this movie? Just as the question passed through his mind, a flash of Vince entwined in Natalie Portman was enough to remind him that he would have loved this movie.

By the time the release date played on the oversized Mac screen, Eric knew that they had another hit on their hands. It was an indie flick, so that didn't mean a big open. However, it would be enough to keep Vince supplied with offers for the next year. "Looks good, man, seriously. You did a great job. I know Vin would love it. Do you mind burning me a couple copies? I want to show Vince and Ari."

Jamison went to work burning him a pair of DVDs while Eric snuck outside to check messages. There were a few from his office, reminding him of this or that, and a couple from different people wanting to talk to him about projects for Vince. The last message was from the superstar himself, whining about when was he going to come home and could he pick up a strawberry shake from that place that he loves, the one they went to three months ago after that meeting. If it were anyone else, they would wonder what meeting that was, but Eric knew exactly the place. He jotted a quick note on the palm of his hand like a thirteen-year-old girl, reminding himself to pick up a sweet treat for Vince on his way home...whenever that was going to be.

Thirty minutes later, he was riding up the elevator to Ari's office, counting the minutes until he would be back in his car and headed home. It was funny. Eric used to think that going back to Queens was the only way he could go home again, but walking through the front door and kissing Vince for five minutes in the entryway was now his very definition of coming home. It was the promise of that long kiss that convinced him to put on his game face and saunter into Ari's office as if he owned the place.

"Ah, Pizza Boy, we meet again."

"Ari, that was almost ten years ago. You seriously need some new material."

"The classics never get old, E," Ari reminded him before emptying the contents of a manila envelope onto his glass desk. "Shauna dropped these off an hour ago. The ones tabbed with the pink post-its are the ones that we think work best. Have a look at them and sign the release form."

Eric looked over the promotional stills. His eyes couldn't help but dilate a little in desire as he took in the breathtaking photographs of Vince. His boy really was beautiful. "Look good, Ari," Eric managed as he traced his finger over a black and white snapshot of a brooding Vince looking over his shoulder. Eric could remember watching the scene from the sidelines, knowing then that it was a perfect movie moment.

"You're looking at these like they're your own personal porn collection, E," Ari sneered. The truth was that it was a good thing that E was looking at them like that. If Eric was that turned on by a few promotional shots, it probably meant that the housewives and gays of America would agree with him. As much shit as he gave the Irish midget, his taste when it came to Vince was impeccable. He was right nearly every time, and it killed Ari to have to admit that. "Just scrawl your five-year-old signature on the contract and get going. Lloyd's going into heat out there from having one of his kind in the office."

"Fuck you, Ari," Eric said emptily. He was too exhausted to argue with Ari properly. He signed the form that Shauna had sent over. "Can I have these?"

"Sure, whatever, get out," Ari retorted, already on the phone.

It was another half hour and a pit stop later before Eric was finally pulling his car into the circle drive outside the house that he still shared with Vince, Turtle and Drama. The other cars were gone, indicating that he might actually get an hour alone with Vince before the other two morons got back. "Hi, honey, I'm home," he called jokingly as he came in the front door. Vince was on him in an instant, kissing him while getting the strawberry shake out of his grasp so that Eric's hands could find their rightful place in his dark curls. "Mmm, I take it that you missed me."

"I always miss you, E," Vince whispered softly before stealing another kiss. Eric smiled gently as Vince turned to take a long sip of his strawberry shake, making their next kiss cool and sweet. Eric finally felt himself relax, the stresses of his day melting away. It was just like coming home again.