A.N. Whilst I'm on a little writing kick, I thought it'd be worth trying as many different pairings as I could. I don't think about Vinnie/Dylan much, but both their expressions in this moment inspired this one.

"I dunno mate, maybe Erin's right wanting to get out of here. Maybe this whole Terence McCann thing is a sign, telling us to move on."

Dylan had felt like a prisoner all his life. Whether it had been at home with his loving yet pushy mother and stepfather of high expectations, being with the gang and watching his potential slip through his fingers without knowing how to catch it, or making plans with Erin that seemed positive but came at him so thick and fast he was bombarded by sleet - he didn't know how to get out of any of it. At least with the latter, the prospect of escaping the others seemed plausible and he could start to rebuild his life in a way that made him happy. The harshest sentence he'd been under though, was that of Vinnie O'Neill. It had started when they were 15.

Dylan had found his friend hiding in an alleyway, kicking the dirt and banging his fists to his temples. He looked like a pot threatening dangerously to boil over. Dylan took a perch opposite him, observing him carefully until Vinnie noticed or acknowledged his presence. It seemed to bring some calm to the situation as Vinnie unconsciously mirrored Dylan's steady breathing, placed his hand below his throat and closed his eyes. He hadn't waited for Dylan to ask a question, but shared his finding of his dad in a booze hole, yet again. He told him of his worry, his anger, his helplessness. When the tears began to fall, Dylan had embraced his friend tightly, absorbing his pain as much as he could. Only moments passed, before Vinnie raised his head from the crook of Dylan's neck and planted a kiss on his lips, tenderly.

"Vin, you're upset." Dylan resigned.

"Yeah, but... wanted to before that."

He'd never been free again since that moment. The constant back and forth he received drove him crazy, it was no wonder he lost his cool at times or threw people off course by dismissing them. Whenever Vinnie needed affection, love, attention - he turned to Dylan. It was starting to become confusing as to which option would be preferable, at least if he just wanted sex then Dylan would know his purpose and that he was a means to an end. The reality of Vinnie needing someone to bolster him, worship him and make him feel special and valued took a lot of energy, and it engaged Dylan's heart such that he now was bound to him. Yet, despite the emotion and declarations and affection in those moments, it would end and it wouldn't be spoken about or even recognised in another room. He felt like a dirty little secret, which didn't align when they weren't just seeking erotic pleasure.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" Vinnie closed the door to the weed bunker after sending the gang off to their little tasks, leaving him alone with Dylan.

"You know!" Dylan waved his arms around. "That! Telling Ash he was your favourite! I mean, I'd get it if it was Cardi, he needs the reassurance."

"Aww, Dyldo!" Vinnie laughed. "Feeling a little jealous, are we? I love you all, you daft bugger."

"Bit insensitive though? Look, I understand if you don't want to tell them about last night, about what goes on with us, but-"

"Last night? What about last night, what goes on with us?" The confused face Vinnie held made him seem very punchable, in Dylan's eyes. Was he really going to pretend he didn't know what he meant, had they not spent hours in each others arms the night before after making love, filling the air with pretty words?

"You... in bed... the..."

"Dyl, I've told you before, you put too much meaning into things. Not everyone is as smart as you, looking around for metaphors and shit."

With that, Vinnie set to work with the plants, leaving Dylan stood questioning his own memory.

Things had been the same every time. Dylan honestly didn't know if he was going insane, being pushed around to different roles in Vinnie's life. Did he imagine all of those moments, were they dreams, did he have a brain tumour or something? He'd only stopped questioning it on the morning he'd seen the rip in the wallpaper, a remnant of the night before. But the pushing around had to stop, and he felt that what he had just uttered may bring it about. Either Vinnie would wake up and start admitting the truth, or he would push him away.

"Yeah well, alright so, move on, start your new life with her, I'll... be alright without you, Dyl."

And there it was. His release date had arrived. The long moments before his response had been agonising, watching him shift about - Vinnie's internal battle was leaking out of him into Dylan's line of vision, but now he had come to his decision despite the betrayal of his words that his eyes delivered. Dylan felt like an idiot, that even with these finalising words he couldn't distinguish between truth and mask, and that part of him didn't want to. When Vinnie held him it blocked out the world and all it's distractions, made the two of them the only things worth seeing, and forgetting the anticipation of Vinnie causing it's death. Now, he'd brought about the demise himself. Here, in the exposure of this moment, no sign of Vinnie wanting to protect and nurture their relationship could be found.

"Yeah?" Dylan searched Vinnie for answers, giving him this opportunity to change his mind. He mentally pleaded with him that he wanted to stay, here with him, but properly. He didn't need it to be public, but he at least needed the respect of Vinnie acknowledging to him that they had something worth fighting for. While Vinnie was used to driving people away because of his own negative self-image, feeling it wasn't fair to impose himself on anyone and have them suffer for it, he knew where Dylan stood and what he thought of him. Dylan would give him everything, and feel honoured to do it. He would feel no pain in holding Vinnie's hand through life. There was no excuse in the world to drive Dylan away, unless he really wanted to.

"Yeah."