Playing To Lose
by Bastet

Mike was high on euphoria the whole plane ride. He smiled, and the old lady seated next to him asked if he was engaged. She wouldn't have understood the truth, that he was freer than he had ever been -- that he was happier than he'd ever been in his life because he'd beaten some loser at poker -- so he just said "Yeah, her name's Sally. She's great," and let it slide.

There was something missing from all this, but he didn’t really admit it to himself and anyway, he hadn't been in Vegas five minutes before Worm found him. He was actually at the airport, smiling and waving like they had parted on the best of terms. "Hey, man! I heard what happened."

"Yeah? News travels fast when your ear is always to the ground," Mike spat, attempting to summon up some murderous rage.

"Jeez," Worm said, holding up his hands, "what's your problem?"

"Nothing. Nothing." Mike paced a little, never moving too far away from Worm. "What the hell do you want now? I paid your debt."

"I told you, I heard. You beat KGB. That is so -- wow. Mike. Thanks." Worm's eyes and voice were as soft as he could make them.

Mike swallowed a little. He felt like throwing up. "Any time," he sighed.

Worm seemed to take that as absolution. "So I wanted to see you," he said, falling into step beside Mike, who was pacing his way out of the airport.

Mike stopped, jaw tight. "How'd you know I'd be here?"

"You beat KGB." He shrugged. "Nowhere else you could go."

Mike felt himself smile, felt himself give. It felt good, which was why Worm had such a racket going. It felt good to say yes to him. Like accepting fate. "You got a hotel room somewhere?"

Worm grinned, knowing he had won for real. "I thought you had money, man. Sixty grand, right?"

Mike lead the way out onto the street, carrying his own bag. It was the only thing Worm was really good at, but he could play Mike like no one else. And he just didn't have it in him to mind.

 

He minded a little more about six hours later, when Worm annoyed the wrong people and they ended up trapped in a fancy hotel room while everyone cooled off. "I don't believe this."

"Believe it." Worm flopped back onto a bed. "At least we got room service."

"I hate you, man."

"Isn't this place great?"

"I'm ignoring you," he said, and did. He watched Worm's face twist into a sneer of disappointment and tuned him out.

"Not like it's my fault. Those guys were asking for it."

Mike waited.

"...did you see the way that one guy treated me? Damn. This place is going to rack and ruin, I'm telling you."

Waited.

Three minutes later, Worm had fidgeted halfway out of his skin. "Look, I'm sorry."

"Sure." Mike looked out into the courtyard. Crossed his legs.

"...really, really sorry. Forgive me?" Worm batted his eyelashes.

Jesus. "You're a piece of work, you know that?" Mike cracked up.

"Yeah, yeah." A small cardboard box appeared as if from nowhere. "I'll even provide the entertainment."

It had been a long time since they'd played together, just for fun. High school, he was pretty sure. Back then, even though they did a lot of hustling, cheating at poker wasn't the industry for Worm that it was now. Not that it wasn't fun, playing with other people--it was the only fun they ever really had, he sometimes thought. But for it to be play, and not work...that was something that hadn't happened in awhile.

"Wouldn't you rather play with someone who doesn't know about that ace up your sleeve?"

"Maybe I'm looking for a challenge," Worm said, his 'I'm just an honest working boy who wants to have some fun' expression firmly in place.

"Right."

"What the fuck else are we gonna do?"

"What'll we bet?"

Worm glanced at him hopefully. "What, aren't you eager to rid yourself of the weight of your winnings yet?"

"Actually, no," Mike told him, getting in a smirk of his own. "Think of something else."

"We're all outta toothpicks, Mike." He considered for a long moment. "Blow jobs?"

The room slid sideways, but that didn't seem too odd: around Worm, everything moved about three times faster than usual. That was another thing he liked. The real world was too slow for people like them. "You're out of your mind."

"It's been a long time, Mike," Worm told him, nodding seriously.

It had been a long time. "Fine," he said, slitting his eyes like he could x-ray Worm's motives right out of him. He couldn't, of course, but what would be the fun in that?

It was a normal game. Mike watched Worm's hands while Worm stared at his mouth, and that could have been for any number of reasons. He lost, which meant that Worm had cheated, but it didn't matter. As usual with his best friend, he'd been playing to lose from the beginning. Worm pushed his chair back, grinning the grin that made most men want to set their best bloodhounds on him.

Mike tried to look a little less gleeful as he stood up and moved around the table. "I've, uh, never done this before."

"Who gives a fuck? You've had it done to you before. I have faith in you, Mike, you're a fast learner." Worm edged his knees outward, giving Mike a space to kneel.

It wasn't exactly the way he'd imagined it. There wasn't a bed, and Worm still had the deck of cards clutched triumphantly in one hand. Still. He couldn't complain.

He leaned in, breathed out a little and heard Worm make a soft sound, saw him twitch. "Damn, you must be so easy."

"Yeah. Easy. Fine." Worm squeezed his eyes shut, and Mike took a few seconds to luxuriate in the rough gravel of his voice. Not too different from normal, because Worm was pretty much always horny, Mike realized. The idea that that might have something to do with him made him snicker. He was a fucking romantic.

Worm wasn't, but Mike stretched up and kissed him anyway. It wasn't easy because he was grinning so hard, but that was the way things usually went with Worm.

Worm wriggled back after a second. "Hmm. I guess you need a little help with this blowjob concept."

"You are so full of shit," Mike told him, smothering his laughter on Worm's lips. He wrapped his arms around his friend's waist and dragged them bodily onto the bed, because, well, there was a time for listening to Worm make up excuses, and there was a time for shutting him up as decisively as possible.

The cards scattered all over the floor. There was one in Worm's shirt sleeve, too, but right now Worm was making these pornographic noises in his ear, so Mike promised himself he'd bring it up later.

 

Silverlake: Authors / Mediums / Titles / Links / List / About / Plain Style / Fancy Style