Under Lock and Key

by Silk

Part 4

"What am I doing wrong, Greggie? The accent's relatively easy. But you keep telling me I don't sound like him."

Greg sighed. "Your voice is similar, Jason. It's just--"

"Just what?" Jason snapped in exasperation.

"It's your attitude," Greg managed to get out.

"So what the fuck's wrong with my attitude, Weasel Boy?" Jason drawled, the sarcasm so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

"That."

"What that?"

"*That*. What you just said. Birkoff would never say that."

"My brother was every bit as sarcastic as I am. Everything I've found out tells me that much."

"Not the sarcasm. It's just--you two come from two different places."

"We were both born here in Section, Weasel Boy. How could we come from two different places? Enlighten me, please."

"Birkoff had a--he was--oh, shit, man, I can't do this!" Hillinger abandoned all attempts at keeping his feelings a secret and buried his face in his hands.

Very, very slowly, Jason moved closer until he stood directly behind Hillinger. He placed his hands on Hillinger's shoulders and felt him flinch under his grip.

He bent his head and touched his lips to the nape of Greg's neck. "Please!" Jason smiled enigmatically and realized that it was impossible to tell if Greg was afraid of his touch or pleading for more.

Hillinger raised tear-filled eyes the color of onyx to Jason's. A sniffle escaped him against his will. There was no one in sight in the Comm area at Oversight. Row after row of empty computer terminals lay silent. Still one would need to be crazy to show any kind of personal feeling towards a
fellow operative, no matter how confident one felt.

Jason was just crazy enough. Day after day he had stood perilously close to Hillinger, knowing the young operative had desired his late brother. He wasn't sure if Hillinger himself recognized the growing attraction between them. Even though Hillinger denied a physical relationship with
Birkoff, Jason was certain that he had wanted one.

Hillinger's lower lip trembled as he gazed intently into the dark eyes of his opposite. "B-Birkoff never knew. He would--he would have *hated* that I--that I--" Even now, Greg couldn't say it out loud. His near-black eyes blurred with tears again.

Jason almost smiled as he reached out to stroke Hillinger's face. "Then  we really *are* different. Because there's no way I could look at this face and *not* want you."

"But you've been flitting from girl to girl--"

"No better way to hide than in plain sight." The gleam in Jason's eyes was unmistakable. But Hillinger felt as if touching *anyone else*, but especially *Jason*, would be irreverent. It didn't matter that Birkoff never knew how he felt. He couldn't betray him by making love to his brother.

Wait, thought Greg, did I just say "making love"? Oh, shit.

"There's nothing wrong with being with me, Greg."

"I can't."

"He'd forgive you."

"I can't." But Greg's voice sounded less sure.

"You're beautiful."

"I--"

"You can pretend I'm *him*. Hell, if you can teach me how to be him, well enough to fool Oversight, you can certainly fool yourself for a half hour."

The thought of being touched by someone who was willing and *able* to stand in for Birkoff made Greg's mouth go dry. "I--" Suddenly overcome by a very real wave of longing, Hillinger leaned forward and kissed Jason on the mouth.

Jason's eyes grew hot. "I want to fuck you, not take you to the Prom. Kisses are for people in love. Not people having sex."

Hillinger looked stricken. Angry at himself for forgetting that Jason seemed every bit as skilled a gameplayer as he was, Greg shut down emotionally. "You arrogant shit."

"Yeah. There is *that* aspect of my personality, I guess. I still want to fuck you, though, " he said amiably.

"People in Hell still want ice water. That doesn't mean they *get*
it."

"Well, shit fire and damn the matches, Greg. Nice to see you getting
into the spirit of things."

Part 5