Hands.

It should have been the time of their lives. The movie they had spent most of the past year making and the past three years chasing was finally premiering before the Hollywood elite at Cannes, no small feat by any measure of the word. However, what Eric had feared six months ago and Vince had tried desperately not to see had finally come to fruition, and their movie was officially panned by the critics, fans and industry professionals who had made it out for their screening. It was the disappointment of a lifetime, and it only pushed Eric and Vince further apart when they really needed each other most.

The two of them had decided to deal with it in very different ways. While Eric worked the crowds and did his best to secure his next big find, Vince lost himself in parties and being a celebrity. In fact, Vince had been drunk for most of the past week, and Eric had done his best to stay as far away from him as possible. It was clear that Vince didn't need Eric to be his conscious right now, and Eric couldn't stand to watch Vince destroy his life piece by piece. He still blamed himself for getting them in this situation in the first place. He had found the script, agreed to hire Billy and not fought hard enough when he realized how bad this was going to hurt Vince and his career.

It was only after Harvey proposed buying the movie that Eric started to believe they might actually be able to put the whole Medellin disaster behind them. Although belligerent and incredibly obnoxious, Harvey knew how to turn cinematic trash into box office gold. With a few reshoots, a little editing and a lot of promotion, he seemed confident that he would be able to turn their failure into his success. The only problem was the low-ball offer the asshole had made just to poke at Eric and Vince.

"Come on, Eric, you know that your client needs this movie not to fail," Harvey leered at him. They were starting to draw attention in the bustling hotel lobby. It was supposed to be a lunch meeting to work out the deal but had mostly consisted of verbal abuse and berating. "Maybe if you had been fucking watching his back a little bit more instead of staring at his ass down there in Colombia, you wouldn't have to sell your little dream project for a dollar."

Eric had been quiet and calm for most of the lunch, but something in that comment set off the street kid still very much alive within him. He leapt across the table, grabbing the much larger man by the lapels. Fire blazed in his blue eyes as he drove the man across the lobby and shoved him against the wall. Harvey tried to struggle back, and for a minute, Vince was sure that the older man's weight advantage was about to work against E. However, Eric had always been scrappy and at the slightest hint of danger, he became a fury of fists. He landed a clean shot to Harvey's jaw before Vince finally decided to step in and pull him off.

"The deal is off, Harvey," Eric said, his voice eerily calm in the wake of the attack. "I don't give a fuck how much money I lose and what this does to my career. Nothing in the world is worth being associated with you on anything, even if it is a total fucking disaster."

He didn't even say another word before yanking hard on Vince's arm and pulling him out of the hotel after him. They were both quiet as they made their way through Cannes. Their heads were down, and for once, none of the tourists bothered them. Vince stayed closed to Eric, his eyes frozen on his best friend's swelling hand. It was only when they were back in their suite that he dared to even address Eric. He led E to a chair in the sitting room before disappearing into the kitchen so that he could start to tend to his wounds.

Vince held a cold compress to Eric's bloody knuckles as he looked up at him in wonder and said, "I still can't believe you punched out Harvey for me." Eric cracked a smile as he looked up at Vince and shrugged. "You know, you're the only guy who has ever fought for me. Remember that time in fourth grade when Mickey O'Doyle tried to steal the basketball from us at recess? You gave him a bloody nose and got suspended for three days. Man, you were grounded for like two months after that."

Eric's eyes lit up at the memory. "Yeah, and you used to sneak in my room every night after Ma had gone to bed," he laughed. "Man, we were stupid ass kids, huh? Your ass is the reason I got into that fight sophomore year with Lucas Rossi."

"I completely forgot about that asshole."

"Yeah, well, no one tells you that you have no talent and that you suck other than me," Eric declared, relaxing a little as Vince started to dab the blood away with a cotton pad. "I'm sorry I made a scene at the hotel, Vin. I shoulda kept my cool."

"You were just being protective, E, no worries," Vince assured him. There had been a time when he had worried about E snapping on someone just like he used to back in the old neighborhood. However, Eric had worked hard over the past few years to not be just the hothead fighter from Queens. "Besides, I think it's kind of romantic."

Eric smiled as Vince brought his battered knuckles up to his lips and kissed the rough skin gently. This was new but not completely unexpected. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice low and eyes hooded. Vince nodded silently as he entwined their hands between them. Eric looked at their interlocked fingers, the contrasts of bronze against pale white skin. "Maybe I should punch Harvey more often."