Cast a Shadow [My Stand In]

and I may never wake up

In hindsight, Joe should not have taken that gun from Wut.

Even the Tremine doses never served any purpose. He'd gone from fearing for his safety to protecting the very man who'd created the need for tranquilizers in the first place. Ming was the boogieman anymore. He wasn't the wandering ghost who stalked Joe's dreams with harsh words spoken softly, or fleeting touches that hinted at deep digs into Joe's skin.

He was just Ming now.

A broken, frightened man, standing before Joe with the most shocked look on his face.

For all the times he searched his mind, Joe could never come up with a valid reason for the rush of protectiveness that filled him whenever he thought of the things Ming must have gone through. After all, if their history was anything to go by, Ming was pretty much just as monstrous as Tong could be.

Tong was right. At the end of the day, Joe was protecting the man who'd raped him. Forget Ming's therapy. Joe was the one in dire need of it. Maybe this was something he needed to unpack if he'd somehow fooled himself into affection for his abuser. A week, a month, a year, in the presence of a licensed official, was what Joe deserved.

Whether that was true or not was not the point, at the moment.

"Go on," Tong said, gesturing at Ming, while he held Joe's gaze.

Licking his lips in nervousness, Joe approached Ming. No sooner had he come within arm's reach, when Ming grabbed onto Joe, his eyes wild with confusion and hurt.

"It's fine," Joe assured him.

"You don't have to do this for me," Ming said.

"We'll be fine."

"Phi-Joe-"

"Ming," Joe said, gripping Ming's hand as he moved between Ming and Tong again, keeping his back to Tong, wondering if this was better or worse.

He figured that Ming might want to see where Tong was at all times. Moving Ming back, towards the bed, Joe gently let him down.

"Just look at me," he said. "Don't mind him."

"How can I not?" Ming asked.

"It's like it's just you and me, right?"

"Joe-"

Joe kissed Ming gently on the lips.

That was all he could do. A thousand wet kisses that had drawn a million sensations from Joe's body made him assume that this one kiss would do something. That this one kiss would lead to something.

But as he stood there, his lips dry and hard against Ming's, Joe couldn't find anything. He'd tried to reassure Ming, but he wasn't so sure he could do that, either.

Parting his lips, he pushed further in, hoping to feel something other than the morbid sensation of being watched. A stiff chill remained in his bones, reluctant to give way to the burning heat that normally precipitated an ecstatic encounter with Ming.

"You don't want this," Ming whispered, his eyes wet with unshed tears as he looked up at Joe.

"We can do it."

Holding both sides of Ming's face, Joe kissed him again, seeking some measure of tension. Anything to bend the chill into something hotter. When that didn't work, he pulled off his shirt. It wasn't like he was going anywhere anymore. His meeting with Tong wasn't at the office anymore, seeing as Tong had brought himself to Joe's loft.

With the shirt off, Joe felt Tong's presence behind him, just moments before Tong's fingers closed around his arms. Gasping as his eyes squeezed shut, Joe held still.