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It was just like any other night at the Lab. Angela was charming everyone into buying more food and drink; Fisher was talking Sweets’ ear off about how “we are all going to die and no one will remember us.” Wendell was explaining to some girls that their breasts were not suitable ID. Zach was asking Hodgins about his new book. The only difference was the DJ. Vincent had been on edge for a few days now. This was reflected in his music: the transitions were sloppier, the music was melancholy, and he hadn’t tried to sneak any old British “classics” into the playlist. Seeley Booth noticed this. How could he miss it? These workers were his family and goddamn it if he didn’t know when one if them was upset. So, after they closed up on a rather busy night, Booth approached Vincent.
“Okay, so here’s what’s gonna happen; I’m going to ask you what’s wrong and you are going to answer me honestly. And don’t say nothing because we both know that would be a lie.”
“Did you know that Agathocles, tyrant of Syracuse, died in 289 B.C. when he used a toothpick soaked in poison by an enemy?” Vincent sighed and looked up at his boss, who just stared back, confused. “Mr. B. I know that you’re religious, but what is your stance on homosexuality?” Booth couldn’t help but feel concerned for the younger man. Vincent was obviously going through something tough, maybe questioning his sexuality. Did he really think Booth would fire him if he was openly gay? Didn’t he know that Angela had called this the day Vince started working at the Lab?
“Vince… What you have to understand is that sexuality isn’t someone’s entire personality. I would never fire you- I mean someone for their sexuality, and I would never lose a friend over it.” Vincent’s sigh of relief was enough to tell Booth that his assumptions were right.
“Mr. B? I’m gay.”
“Vincent, that’s okay. If anyone here gives you any trouble about it, just tell me. I’ll kick them out faster Zach can scare off a pretty girl.” Vincent laughed. After a quick goodbye, Booth and Vincent both went home.
——Line Break——–
It was less than a week before the entire staff knew that their DJ was gay. Other than endless embarrassment, Vincent’s confession seemed to spur a need for everyone to share some sort of a secret. Fisher had been in a few relationships with men,
“What? Sex is sex. Life is too short to waste time lamenting about what goes where.” No one could really argue. Angela even agreed, recounting an old girlfriend.
“Roxie. Mmm… Roxie… She was an art student. Very imaginative.” Zach admitted that he wasn’t very experienced sexually. When no one seemed surprised, he explained that it wasn’t because he wasn’t attractive.
“I think it might be because I expect a intellectual connection with a sexual partner and I can’t seem to find a women who I connect with. Maybe I should give men a try.” Mr. and Mrs. B didn’t originally get in on the sharing but by the end of the conversation, the employees knew more about their bosses sex life than they had ever wanted to. Sweets admitted to enjoying when his partner took control. To which Daisy replied that she preferred to be in control. Wendell only joined the conversation after walking in on Sweets and Daisy in the lost and found.
“This conversation is ending now. It’s all well and good that Doctor Who over here has come back from Narnia, but we have work to do.“
“Aww, but Hodgins was about to go!” Angela pouted, but it didn’t seem like Hodgins was complaining. Wendell sighed,
“Angela. This place opens in under an hour and you guys have been talking for twenty minutes already.” Surprisingly enough, it was Vincent who spoke up.
“Oh come on. We finished setting up before we started talking. Why don’t you join us, or are you to big and bad to share a secret with your coworkers?” Vincent found that every since coming out of the closet, he had felt more free and confident. A month ago he barely had the courage to talk to Wendell. Vince attributed that to the massive crush he had on the bodyguard, but here he was challenging Wendell like they had been mates for years. The blonde chewed on his toothpick and glared at Vincent.
“I’m not trying to act superior. I just think that you guys shouldn’t make such a big deal about Vincent coming out. Being gay isn’t a huge confession it’s just like if he told you all he was British or that he’s a guy.” Wendell ending his rant by walking off, mumbling about ‘stupid coworkers.’ The staff sat in silence for a minute.
“I’m going to talk to him” Booth broke the silence, following Wendell. Mrs. B left to do some accounting and Zach followed her. Fisher had started to head towards the kitchen when Angela stopped him. She motioned for the remaining four staff members to come closer.
“Twenty bucks says Wendell is queerer than a three dollar bill.“ Angela smiled.
“That would explain why he never even blinks when the girls flash him.” Lance agreed. Fisher shook his head,
“No way. I won’t believe it until I see him making out with Vincent.”
“Why me?” Vincent protested, but the thought did make him shiver. It wasn’t a bad thought. Not at all. It wasn’t like Vincent hadn’t thought about it before. He had been a semi-closeted, horny, gay man and Wendell always had those toothpicks in his mouth. His lips wrapped around them and his tongue running over his lips. There was no way Vincent could have not fantasized about the blonde man. Hodgins interrupted his thoughts,
“Vincent, Vince, Vinny! Are you still here? We didn’t mean to make you mad, Fisher was kidding.” Vincent looked around to find all eyes on him.
“What? I mean yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Would you care to know that 90% of America’s toothpick supply is produced in Maine?” Vincent didn’t think his friends could look as confused as they did at that moment. Luckily, Mr. B announced opening and the group scattered.
—–Line Break——–
Vincent was acting weird again. It had been two weeks since he had come out and a week and a half since Wendell’s rant. Booth was worried about his DJ. The music was great, better than usual. The Lab was growing and Booth was more financially secure than he had been for years. Even with all this, he knew that something was up with Vincent. The Brit had been playing more love songs and had recently gotten into “good old American” bands. The usual crowd didn’t mind the occasional country song and it brought in bunch of new costumers, but Booth just couldn’t shake the feeling that Vincent wasn’t being his usual self.
“Sweets? Do you think something is up with Vincent?” Booth asked the bartender after “Rain is a Good Thing” finished playing.
“Not really… Why?” Sweets handed a gangly male his drink, starting on another drink while his boss talked.
“He keeps playing country songs and then love songs and he hasn’t begged me for a ‘classics’ night in days.” Booth quickly wondered why he was complaining, before he remembered that Vincent was like family. Sweets topped off a blonde girl’s martini before replying,
“Oh, that. That’s just cause he has a crush. The poor kid never felt free to express his feelings until he came out a couple weeks ago.” Seeley was shocked at how nonchalant the other man seemed.
“What? How do you know that? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“He stayed late a couple nights ago. I gave him a couple drinks. That boy is a talkative drunk.” Sweets chuckled and went back to giving the customers his undivided attention.
——Line Break——–
“Angela!? Angela?” Wendell called the hostess’ name. It was time to close up and Wendell was sure he hadn’t seen Angela leave. Wendell had done his usual rounds, all that was left was the men’s bathroom and the lost and found. Ever since the murder, Wendell had been sure to check every square inch of the club twice before going home. When he approached the door to the men’s room, he heard groaning.
“Oh God!”
“You can call me Jack, baby.”
Wendell tried to be surprised, but after working with these people for so long not much about them surprised him. Except for Vincent. Vincent was always making Wendell do a double take. The kid didn’t realize what effect he had. With his stupid adorable hat and the stupid hot rings that he wore. The boy walked like he was having sex and the things Wendell had imagined him saying with that accent! And then Vince came out, he challenged Wendell, who would have stayed to see more but had a more pressing matter to deal with. Namely the tightness of his pants. The sound of something falling in the bathroom made Wendell cringe. He banged on the door,
“Angela! Hodgins! Get the hell out, I have to lock up!” Wendell heard some rustling and a whispered ‘to be continued’ before the door swung open to reveal a very predictable scene. “Will you please go home and have sex? Instead of making me listen to your cheesy pick up lines when I’m trying to close up?” They both had the decency to look sheepish.
“Uh, sorry Wendell.” Hodgins said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Angie.”
“Yeah, yeah. See you then.” When Jack was around the corner, Angie sighed and slung an arm around Wendell. “That is one hell of a man! Guys like him are the reason I didn’t move to a lesbian island.” For a split second, Wendell thought Angela might be drunk then he remembered who he was talking to: the shameless and never embarrassed Angela Montenegro.
“I have no idea why you tell me these things like you expect me to have an opinion on them.” Wendell said, twirling his toothpick in his mouth. Angela looked at him with a grin that just screamed mischief.
“Wayne Kusy of Evanston, Illinois, used 193,000 toothpicks to create a 16-foot-long replica of the British luxury liner Lusitania.”
“What?” Wendell was confused.
“Vincent told me that today. He seems to be into toothpick related facts these days… Take from that what you will, but you aren’t fooling me. Not at all Mr. Bray.”
“I will repeat my previous statement, what?”
“Wendell, I’ve seen the way you look at me and Daisy and the girls who try to sex their way into this club. Not once have you ever seemed even slightly aroused.” Wendell tried to protest but Angela just kept talking. “But whenever you guys are sitting at the bar, and a drunk Fisher leans to close… Well, lets just say that your complexion does not hide a blush well.”
“Are you calling me gay?” Wendell couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“I’m not calling you anything. I’m merely stating some observations that I’ve made.” Angela was nervous that she had gone to far.
“I observe that you’ve been spending to much time with Mrs. B.” Wendell knew he was trying to save the conversation, to change the subject. He wasn’t gay. He couldn’t be gay. Angela just shrugged and Wendell sighed,
“How about you help me lock up so I can go home and get some sleep?” Angela smiled and the pair started double checking the grounds. They had locked the door and were standing in the parking lot, near Angela’s car, when she spoke up.
“Wendell, I didn’t mean to offend you in there. I know that sexuality can be hard to come to grips with but no one who really loves you will care.” He didn’t know if he could take this. He never spoke about his feelings, just kept them inside. He bottled them up until he went to the gym or boxing or wherever he had decided to get his emotions out physically. Now Angela was asking him to talk them out. He just wasn’t sure if he could do that.
“I’m not gay.” Wendell took a deep breath. “At least I don’t think I’m gay. I enjoy sex with women. I’ve had girlfriends before, who I’ve loved. I- I don’t know what- I just- I’m confused.” Wendell sighed. His mouth had said more than he had wanted to say. He was content after ‘I’m not gay.’ Angela didn’t seem to mind, though.
“I understand. You loved those girls. They could have been your sisters you loved them so much.” Angela knew it was a leap, but if Wendell would reach she could show him something he really needed to see.
“Exactly! I loved them like sis- Oh my god.” The colored drained from his face. “Angela?”
“Yeah?” She gulped.
“I see what you did. And I understand why you did it. But I swear to whatever the hell you believe in that if you so much as whisper this to anyone I will find you and kill you slowly.” Angela nodded and Wendell walked away. He was gay, it felt weird like it didn’t fit right. In a way be felt calmer though, like a weight was off of his shoulders. Vincent was into toothpick facts these days, was he? So much for getting any sleep.
——Line Break——–
Vincent was late to work. The club was going to open in ten minutes and he still had to set up his kit. “Damn it!” Vincent slammed his hands on the steering wheel after coming to a stop at his sixth red light. “Why me? Why the hell me?” He mumbled, finally reaching The Lab and parking his car. A line had already formed to get in the club and Wendell was standing at the door doing crowd control.
“Hey, Vincent-” Wendell started but he was cut off.
“I know I’m late I was on the phone with my mom and I lost track of time, I haven’t talked to her since coming out to you guys and for centuries, the upper classes used elegant toothpicks often made of gold, silver or ivory and inlaid with precious stones.“ Vincent started to walk passed but Wendell grabbed his arm and whispered in his ear,
“I need to talk to you after closing.” Wendell let go and Vincent walked into the club. He apologized for his lateness and started setting up his kit, but his body was working on autopilot. His mind was focusing on Wendell. Vincent often found that this was the case. He couldn’t stop thinking about the man, and the way he had just whispered in his ear. God! Vincent was sure he would dream about that voice for days. While the voice was probably the sexiest thing he had ever heard, what had been said was also causing Vincent to wonder. Why did Wendell need to talk to him? Not that he was complaining or anything, just why? Before he could follow his train of thought, Booth called opening and Vincent had to focus on the music, but the end of the night kept itself prominent in the back of his mind.
—–Line Break——–
Vincent was sure that the night had dragged on longer than seven hours. Every time he would check the clock expecting an hour to have passed, it would have been fifteen minutes. But the night was finally over. Vincent was purposely taking as long as possible to pack up his kit with the hope that everyone would be gone before he went to talk to Wendell. Wendell was standing in the parking lot, making sure the last few customers got in their cars and drove away without any trouble. He heard the footsteps behind him but he didn’t turn around. When a hand rested itself on his shoulder he sprung into action. Wendell grabbed the wrist and pulled the offenders arm around behind their back.
“Ow ow ow ow! Wendell, its me. Zach.”
“Oh, shit I’m sorry.” Wendell said after letting go of Zach.
“Mrs. B told me to come and tell you that everyone but Vince has gone home for the night and that you can lock up whenever you want. Now my arm hurts” Zach shook his head and walked off.
“Sorry again!” Wendell yelled at the retreating boy before making his way inside. Vincent was still on stage, it seemed like he had just finished packing up his kit and was about to come down to the bar. Wendell sat down. He was happy to wait for Vince; he just watched as the Brit made his way down the stairs. He has to stop walking like he’s having sex, Wendell thought, or I’ll never get anything done.
“You wanted to talk to me?” Vincent asked as he sat down.
“Um yeah… I’ve never told anyone this. Well no one but Angela and I didn’t really tell her, she just figured it out one night when we stayed late. We didn’t stay late together, we just both stayed late and I just-”
“I get it Wendell.” Vincent said not without kindness.
“Sorry.” Wendell rubbed the back of his neck. “And lets just get this straight, I’m only telling you this because I think you might understand. No. Other. Reason.”
“Okay…” Vincent trailed off. Wendell gathered his thoughts and took a breath,
“I need a way to come out to everyone without them making a big deal about it.”
“I’m sorry? What?”
“I said, I need a way to come out to everyone without them making a big deal about it.” Wendell repeated slowly. Vincent shook his head,
“You can’t just say things like that without giving someone time to process it.” Vincent took his hat off and set it on the bar; he ran his fingers through his hair. “Incase you cared to know, which you probably didn’t, in the 1980’s kids would soak wooden toothpicks in a bottle of cinnamon oil extract and sell them for a profit.” Wendell was silent. He decided to give Vincent a few seconds to process the information. Wendell pulled out a box of toothpicks and pushed it towards Vincent.
“Do you want one? You seem to be into toothpick related facts lately… and well I guess it kinda calms me down.” Wendell was nervous, he didn’t exactly know why though. After talking to Angela, Wendell had gone home and he had realized that he sort of always knew about his sexuality. He had buried it because that was what Wendell did. He buried whatever made him different. Unlike Vincent. Vincent embraced himself whole heartedly. With the weird facts and the eccentric outfits, Vincent was the poster child for different. Vincent smiled and took one of the toothpicks and put it in his mouth. Wendell almost laughed out loud. The toothpick was so out of place in the Brit’s mouth; he held it in between his front teeth and had a massive smile on his face. Vincent set the toothpick down beside his hat.
“I don’t think I’m very good at that.” This time Wendell did laugh and soon enough Vincent started laughing too. When they calmed down, Vincent realized that he had never answered Wendell’s question. He also realized how close his face was to the American’s, and how soft Wendell’s lips looked. He turned his head and leaned back, chuckling. “Umm maybe you shouldn’t even announce it. Just live your life and date guys. I doubt anyone would call you out on it.”
“What?” Wendell asked, confused about the change of subject.
“How to come out without people making a big deal about it. I was just, what do you say, oh spit-balling.” Vincent tried to look supportive, but the idea of Wendell with some other man made him cringe. He hadn’t realized how hard he had fallen until just now. Wendell could blink and Vincent would come running. This man didn’t even talk to Vincent outside of the occasional work related small talk. This was the longest conversation they had ever had. Wendell didn’t understand the kind of spell he had cast on Vincent. Hell, Vincent didn’t even understand it.
“Oh, uh yeah. That’s actually a really good idea, Thanks Vince.” Wendell stood up and grabbed Vincent’s hat and put it back on his head. He said goodbye and started making his way out. Wendell stopped and turned around, “Vince! Would you like to go on a walk?” Vincent looked up, surprised. He nodded his head.
“Uh yeah, sure. That sounds lovely.” The two men made their way out of the club. They walked through the streets of downtown DC side by side. Only god knows how long they walked, but it was when they were on their way back to the club so that Vincent could pick up his car when it all happened. Vincent was facing Wendell, walking backwards. His head was thrown back and he was laughing at something Wendell had said. His arms were out and the sunrise was only accentuating the contrast of his dark hair and pale skin.
“You’ve got to stop walking like you’re having sex!” Wendell said smiling. It wasn’t until Vincent stopped walking and Wendell almost crashed into him that Wendell comprehended what he had said. “Oh my God. Vincent I didn’t mean that. I mean you do walk like, but what I meant. I just- oh my god I’m going to stop talking now.” Vincent was still just standing there, staring at Wendell. “Please say something.” Wendell pleaded. Vincent didn’t say anything. His brain was racing. Wendell really just said that. Did that mean Wendell liked him? Vincent didn’t know what to do. Should he shake it off and laugh with Wendell? Should he tell Wendell about how he made him feel or should he just show it? Before Vincent could decide his body chose for him and he was kissing Wendell. Wendell was surprised when Vincent grabbed his face, but he wasn’t going to complain. Instead he brought his hands around Vincent’s neck and played with the hair there, kissing back. when they broke apart Wendell couldn’t erase the smile from his face. Vincent was breathless, but he whispered,
“The first on-screen kiss between two members of the same sex was in Cecil B. DeMille’s 1922 Manslaughter.”
————–Line Break———
It had been a week since Vincent kissed Wendell. They had been going on walks every night after work, but when they were working Wendell had been avoiding Vincent. Vincent knew that Wendell didn’t like that much PDA and that he was still nervous about how the rest of the staff would act. Vincent was getting a little tired of never getting to kiss or hold hands with his boyfriend. Boyfriend. It sounded right, like milk and Oreos or fish fingers and custard: Vincent and Wendell, Boyfriends. Vincent was trying really hard to respect Wendell’s privacy but he was running on his last bit of self restraint. The final straw came on a Friday night. The music was flowing from Vincent’s fingertips. It was one of the best nights he had had since before he had come out. The crowd was thriving and fueling the DJ. When the night was coming closer to the end, Vincent let his attention drift from the music to Wendell. When he looked towards the door where the bodyguard was posted he wished he hadn’t. Wendell was up against a wall and some girl was kissing him. No, she was using her mouth to rape his! It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened. It was obvious that Wendell hadn’t been a willing participant, but Vincent wanted to explode. He wanted to tell the world, or even just the Lab, that Wendell was his. The plan had seeded itself in Vincent’s brain, and there was no going back now.
As soon as the club officially closed, Vincent approached Wendell. Wendell was sitting by the door with a toothpick in his mouth, just staring thoughtfully at the dance floor. When Vincent approached him he stood up though. What a gentleman, Vincent thought. I almost feel bad, but not really.
“Vince-” Wendell started but Vincent pushed him back into his chair and straddled him. Vincent whispered into Wendell’s ear.
“You Are Mine.” Then Vincent grabbed Wendell’s toothpick with his teeth and spit it across the room before kissing him passionately. They were making out, but it wasn’t making out. It didn’t last long enough to really be making out. There was so much potential energy surrounding the pair, it felt like the air might burst into flames. The love between them was obvious. Vincent pulled away first, smiling at his boyfriend.
“I- uh. fuck. What was that for? Not that I didn’t enjoy it.”
“No reason. How was your day?” Vincent smirked at the blonde. Wendell smiled and told him, never moving his hands so that Vincent couldn’t leave. The couple was oblivious to everything outside of their own personal bubble. If they had been they would have seen melancholy (more than usual) Fisher giving Angela twenty bucks.