Title: Lucky 13
Chapter title: The worst moment
Fandom: Ocean's eleven (Ocean's 13, technically)
Pairing: Virgil/Turk (slash)
Rating: PG-13
Chapter Summary:Turk kills the distance between them then, he gets really close, way to close to be comfortable, and Virgil wants to move away, but he can barely breathe, let alone get his feet to move.
Both Virgil's and Turk's POV on their last night in Mexico.
A/N: This is the second chapter in Lucky 13, which is the fifth story in the Driving me crazy 'Verse (which includes all three movies)
Virgil's already up and dressed when Turk wakes up. He squints through the sunlight and the cobwebs in his eyes and sees his blurry silhouette moving about the room, packing by the sounds of it, fretting by the looks…
"Hey", Turk rasps out.
The blurry silhouette does a half pirouette and stills. Turk guesses he's turned to face him. Half-heartedly he flattens his hair with a hand and then rubs it across his face.
"Do you need a painkiller", Virgil asks him, he sounds wide awake.
As his face comes into focus, Turk can see that he looks exhausted and he's got dark rings under his eyes. He wonders if he's slept at all.
"Did I keep you up?" he asks.
"No", Virgil says. "Just… lot of stuff on my mind. And the adrenalin, as well."
Turk nods, accepts the explanation but only half buys it. He looks around for his shirt, but doesn't spot it anywhere. Instead there's a dark blue one neatly folded on the bed, he recognizes it, it's Virgil's. He looks up at him. Sees that he's already changed into a new one, and everything else has been packed into his suitcase.
"Yours was filthy", Virgil says then, as though reading his mind. "And I figured you didn't pack anything."
Turk reaches for the shirt. It's nice, it's clean, but it's not his, and it's not his size. Plus it's got long sleeves. He's torn. He feels Virgil's eyes on him, and there's a certain tension in the room suddenly, like the room itself was holding its breath. Turk slides into the shirt without comment. The room exhales again, and Virgil turns back to his suitcase.
"It's the biggest one I have", he says.
Turk buttons it up and feels the material stretch across his chest. The top two buttons won't close, so he leaves them undone. He won't comment. It's a nice gesture, and he rather be wearing a shirt that's too small than one that's ripe from yesterday. Virgil glances over his shoulder at him, then quickly turns back around.
"Sorry", he mutters.
"It's fine", Turk says.
"Do you want a t-shirt, I think I have a larger one, if you want to wear it underneath, do you?"
"Virg, it's fine, really."
Virgil snaps his suitcase shut and turns around to face him completely. He looks like he's about to say something for a minute, then he looks away and shakes his head slightly instead.
"What?" Turk says.
"We should get going… the factory's…"
"Yeah, alright, just let me…" he gets off the bed and trots over to the bathroom. "Hey, can I borrow some tooth paste?"
"Fine", Virgil calls back.
Turk splashes some cold water on his face and use his finger to brush his teeth. There's something different about his brother lately. He's more tense and jumpy than usual.
"Hey, Turk…" his voice reaches him from the adjoining room. "Later, do you think we could, you know… talk?"
"About what?" he calls back.
There's no answer.
He wipes his face off and walks back out into the room. It's probably his imagination, but Virgil seems to tense up when he sees him. Then he turns away.
"What about?" Turk asks again.
"Just, things… some things I want to run by you, is all… but not now, later."
Turk doesn't know what to say to that, so he just shrugs. Virgil looks nervous, though. He can see that. Maybe he'll tell him why he's been so off lately, Turk thinks. And as much as he hates to talk about his feelings and all that sharing caring stuff, what he hates even more is not knowing what's wrong with his brother, and if he's done something to push him away. So if they can talk about it, and get past it, then he'd love to fucking talk.
"Alright. Later", he agrees.
"Last night in Mexico", Virgil adds, and almost smiles at him.
"Last night in Mexico", Turk echoes, several hours later as they walk out of the factory.
Virgil nods.
As the hours melted away he started to get more and more nervous, until now when he's regretting ever mentioning the talk to Turk in the first place. The last thing he wants to do is to talk. He wouldn't know what to say even if he did want to.
Of course, they can't talk about this. He doesn't know what he was thinking. If Turk ever finds out what he feels, or thinks he feels, what he's been thinking and trying not to think, what kind of dreams his twisted mind comes up with in his sleep when he can't distract it with something else, if he were to find any of it out, he'd never talk to Virgil again.
"Want to go grab a drink?" Turk suggests.
"No", he says.
"We could go for a coffee-"
"I said no-!"
"Alright! It was just a thought-"
"I want to get an early start tomorrow, and I'm exhausted…"
They walk the rest of the way to the motel in silence. Turk lets Virgil enter the room first, then lingers by the door as he kicks off his shoes and goes to get a bottle of water from the stack on the table. It's steaming, and he's wearing a shirt on top of his tee. He tears it off and tosses it on top of his suitcase.
"You okay-?"
"I fucking fine", Virgil snaps. "Would you quit asking me that!"
"…I'm gonna get something to drink-"
Virgil closes the distance between them in two strides and pushes the door shut again, just as Turk's turned the handle and pulled it open. Turk slowly tilts his head back and looks at him, looks him right in the eye. Virgil can tell he's getting fed up. Not frustrated or agitated, but fed up. That's rare.
"Virgil…" he murmurs.
"I'm not driving the whole way. You can't get drunk, you'll be too hung over to drive the truck."
Turk looks down, nods, and lets go of the door handle. He walks, very deliberately over to the bed, toes off his shoes, and sits down with his back against the headboard.
"You wanted to talk", he says.
Virgil shakes his head, feeling faint. Water, he reminds himself. He searches for the bottle with his eyes, finds it over by the TV and goes to grab it. Turk's eyes are on him as he drinks, but he ignores it. Gulps down half. Then catches his breath, before holding the bottle out.
"I'm fine", Turk says. "Thank you. And yes, you wanted to talk."
"No, I don't", Virgil repeats.
Turk swings his legs over the bed and stands up. Virgil doesn't try to stop him this time as he walks over to the door and wrenches it open.
Turk feels like a big baby as the door slams shut behind him. He's not going to go get a drink. But he needs some space, some fresh air, he needs to clear his head for a minute. He paces the parking lot, cursing under his breath.
"Virgil's friend", a heavy-accented voice interrupts him.
He spins around and catches sight of Virgil's Mexican friend, Nestor. He raises a hand in greeting, tries to smile as well but doesn't think it really comes off right.
Nestor seems to hesitate, then takes a few steps closer to him. Turk wishes he would just keep walking, he's in no mood to chit-chat, especially with some guy he barely even knows. But it's not this guy's fault Turk's brother is being impossible, so he forces himself to be nice. Nestor seems to be searching his face.
"You fight?"
"What?"
"Virgil and you fight?"
"Oh! No, nono, just, I can't sleep and I didn't want to disturb him, so…"
"But you talk?"
"Huh?"
"You two talk now?"
What does this guy know, Turk wonders. It's not like Virgil to confide in strangers, especially if he can't even talk to Turk about it, yet this guy clearly seems to know something Turk doesn't.
"He didn't tell you?" Nestor insists.
"Tell me what", Turk snaps, he's getting sick and tired of all the mind games.
"Oh, not for me to say…"
"What are you talking about, please-!"
"No, no, please… talk to your friend. He has something to tell you. I promise."
"My- My friend? Has something to tell me?"
"Yes", Nestor nods resolutely.
"What, like a secret…?" Turk says and grins, working the charm, but Nestor just smirks back at him, clearly unaffected. "Come on, I hate surprises… I promise I won't tell him you told me-"
"I'm not telling you."
"Well, do you know what it is? Will I like it, or will I get upset, or what do you think? At least help me prepare a little… Look, he's asleep now, and I'm not a very patient guy, this will drive crazy if I have to wait til morning…"
Nestor studies him silently for a moment.
"You been friends a long time. He tells me you grow up together."
"Yeah", Turk mumbles. "Yeah, we've known each other all our lives. He's all I got, and, I think, I'm all he's got… look, whatever it is, I promise I won't freak out or anything, just tell me so I can at least get some sleep tonight… otherwise, I'll have to go wake him up!"
"Yes", Nestor says after a moment. "I think wake him up. Talk to him. I think… yes, I think you will like the secret… I think… you have same secret."
"…what?"
Nestor just smirks at him again, then gives him a little wave and walks off.
The door opens. Virgil looks up, hopeful and worried all at once. Turk meets his gaze, then turns away. He gently shuts the door and locks it. He looks sober, Virgil notices. Sober and calm.
"Hey", he says. "You're back…"
"Yeah", Turk says. "Just needed to cool off."
"Oh…"
Turk looks at him again. Virgil is still standing we he was when he stormed out, only now he's leaning back against the wall. He wishes now he'd have sat down. Somehow, it feels too late to do that.
"We need to talk, don't we", Turk says.
"No", Virgil says. "No, I don't, I mean I did but I don't anymore, I changed my mind, so unless there's something on your mind, we're good…"
"No. We're not. And you need to tell me what's up with you, because I'm about to flip…"
"It doesn't matter, it's stupid…"
Turk kills the distance between them then, he gets really close, way to close to be comfortable, and Virgil wants to move away, but he can barely breathe, let alone get his feet to move.
"It's stupid, it's nothing", he keeps babbling. "It's just these thoughts, I mean dreams, that I've been having, I haven't been sleeping right, and it's the stress too I think, and I wanted to get your input is all, but I changed my mind, it doesn't matter anymore…"
"What kind of thought?" Turk murmurs, his eyes too focused for Virgil's liking, too close and too penetrating.
"Dreams", he corrects.
Turk just nods, sideways, once. Like he's relenting, like he's saying fine, whatever you want to call it. Virgil swallows, but it doesn't get the lump away from his throat. He wonders if Turk can tell that he's shaking. He's standing close enough. Virgil can almost feel his body heat, or maybe that's his sick mind playing another trick on him. He does feel his breath, though, he's suddenly aware. It hits him in warm waves against his chin.
"You drive me crazy, you know that", Turk mutters.
"What…"
Then Turk is backing up a step and averting his eyes. Virgil feels suddenly cold, and he reacts before he has time to think it through, or think at all, he reaches out. He grabs the fabrics on top of Turk's shoulder, fists it, pulls, and then Turk is pushing against him, and the next thing he knows his mouth is on Turk's and Turk's got him pushed up against the wall, hands flat on either side of his shoulders. He's trembling all over with the effort to keep himself upright. There's a warm tingle in his lips and Turk's tongue nudges them open. Turk's fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp. Turk's chest against his chest, heart beating against heart. Turk's hard-on pressing against his thigh-
He moans into his brother's mouth. There's so many things wrong about that sentence, he thinks. But he doesn't care. He puts his arms around Turk's body, hugs him closer, closer, how close can you get?
Turk then wrenches his mouth away, hot bursts of air hits Virgil on the side of the mouth. They stare into each others' eyes. Turk's are heavy-lidded, but clear. He blinks, swallows, then lets his hands slide out of Virgil's hair and down his arms until they're not touching at all.
Virgil feels colder than he's ever felt. He even shivers. The lump in his throat is back, bigger, sharper. He looks away. Carefully, he leans away from the wall. His legs are shaky, but he's fine. That's what he tells himself, over and over, I'm fine.
"Virgil…" Turk murmurs.
"Yeah", he croaks back.
"I…"
After a while, Virgil has to look at him. He has to memorize every detail of this moment. His entire world is shattering, only mid-shatter someone pressed paused, and now he's looking at all the angles, he's holding the remote control, he can hit slow motion, or just play and get it over with. What he can't do is rewind. And that sort of defeats the purpose of having a remote in the first place, but at least he gets a good look at what his heartbreak really looks like. Because this is his first, and he doubts there will ever be one that could top it, so this is it. The worst moment of his life.
Turk is pale. He looks crestfallen, or maybe scared.
Virgil shakes his head to clear it. Brushes passed his brother and sinks down on the bed.
"Virg, we need to talk."
"On second thought, why don't we get drunk…"
"Come on, man. I'm… I didn't…"
"What", Virgil murmurs. "You didn't what?"
"I don't know, mean to do that."
"Yeah", Virgil huffs, laughs almost. "Yeah, I figured… look, I knew this would be a bad idea, I'm fucked up or something, clearly, and I don't want to burden you with it-"
"Wait, what-?"
"It's why I decided it was a bad idea to talk, I knew it'd just… fuck with my head-"
"Virg-"
"I'm fucking sorry, Turk-!"
"Hey!…"
Turk moves over to him, he kneels down on the floor in front of him, his hands are on Virgil's knees, rubbing slightly. He's peering into his face, trying to catch his eyes, but Virgil puts a hand over them, doesn't want his brother to see him cry.
"Hey…" Turk says again, his voice almost soothing.
Then there's a warm pressure against the back of Virgil's hand, he realizes it's Turk covering it with his own, fingers sliding into place ext to each other. The other hand moves up his back and rests in the nape of his neck, fingers grazing his hair line, thumb stroking tense muscles in the neck.
"I kissed you", Turk whispers. "It was me. Why are you sorry…"
"You did that out of instinct", Virgil mutters miserably.
He hears Turk snorts, or maybe it's a chuckle. The hand covering his own moves away, then he feels the bed dip as his brother positions himself behind him, and he starts massaging his shoulders gently.
"What instinct would that be… 'cause I never heard of that one before", he says.
"I pulled you, I was being delusional and I thought, so I grabbed and pulled you, and I didn't mean to… Fuck, I've been fantasizing about it for weeks, months, I don't know what happened, I don't know how I came to be this twisted, this sick…"
"You're not sick, bro…" Turk murmurs, voice really close to the back of Virgil's ear.
"You have no idea", Virgil murmurs thickly.
"Yeah, I do", Turk replies immediately.
"You're my brother…"
"Yeah… always has been, always will be-"
Virgil shifts around on the bed and turns to face his brother then. Turk looks drawn, but not upset. Not angry, at least. Not disgusted or alarmed.
"I have bad thoughts about you", he says, slowly, clearly.
Something in Turk's face shifts, but it's hard to say what. It's like he flinched, but he did it just when Virgil blinked, so he didn't really see it.
"How bad", Turk quips and smirks at him.
"Bad", Virgil states, in no mood for games.
Turk looks down, nods. He reaches out with his hand, fingers gently brushing over Virgil's knuckles. Then he moves away, he scrambles up to the headboard and leans back. Virgil watches him, trying to read any expression on his face, but it's closed off.
"Me too", Turk says after a while.
They stare at each other. A couple of tears break loose when Virgil blinks and he absently wipes them off his face with his hand. He gets up and walk into the bathroom, needs to think, needs to clear his head, brush his teeth.
When he imagined this talk, all the times he imagined this talk, it always ended in either some Harlequin frenzy, or a fist fight that left them both bloody and walking their separate ways… somehow, reality has settled exactly between. And Virgil thinks this is almost worse than the fight.