JD's Story

by Stan Lee *

The young man shivered, wishing like hell he'd been smart enough to put on his jacket tonight. Not that it would have been much use to him, thin and full of holes as it was. Besides, he really needed to land at least one date tonight, and he'd found that the best way of doing that was to show as much skin as possible, even if it meant freezing his ass off.

He peeped nervously around the corner, pushing his lank, dark hair off his forehead. He had to keep his eyes open tonight. He couldn't afford to get caught, not by the cops, not by any of the store owners who made a point of running "his kind" off the street, and certainly not by that fucking pimp bastard who seemed to think he had some claim on his ass and his earnings.

God, he had to pull this evening. Otherwise it was another cold, hungry night sleeping with one eye open in a doorway down some dark alleyway, or giving it away for free in exchange for a hot meal. Right now he'd settle for just about anything, would gladly trade a blow-job for nothing more than a cup of coffee and a donut.

He poked his head around the corner again and his heart began racing when he saw a sleek black BMW pull up and a tall, dark-haired man step out of the car. He looked the man over critically. Definitely money. The car, the clothes - he didn't know shit about designer labels but he knew enough to recognize quality when he saw it.

He tucked his tee-shirt into his jeans, knowing it accentuated his wiry build, and slicked back his greasy hair, wishing he'd been able to afford a room last night so that he could have showered and shampooed. His long jet black hair was one of his best assets, the old guys went crazy for it, but it looked better when it was clean and shining. Still, no help for that now.

Taking a last glance around the forecourt, he sidled out from his hiding place. God let this guy be looking for a fuck, he prayed. Let this be the night his luck would change.

******

Buck Wilmington pulled into the gas station and climbed out of the BMW, reaching for the pump and sliding his credit card into the machine. He yawned and stretched while the car began filling with premium. It had been a long night, three tricks, all of them eager for his attention, none of them particularly concerned with his needs. Which was fine. He wasn't being paid to get himself off. Besides, Chris would be more than willing to take care of that for him when he got home. He checked his Rolex and smiled. Only midnight. Still plenty of time to play with his lover tonight.

He caught a movement out of the corner of his eyes and watched curiously as a dark haired kid slid out of the shadows and cautiously crossed the forecourt towards him.

"Hey, mister," the kid said, casting about furtively. "You lookin' for a good time?"

Buck's eyes widened in surprise. The boy looked to be about 16 years old, skinny, dressed in tight ripped jeans and a tank top, even though it was a pretty cool out tonight. He was shivering slightly and looking around nervously, probably scared to be caught. The attendants at the gas station were none too friendly towards pedestrians, particularly those trying to ply their trade with their customers.

"How old are you, son?" Buck asked, shutting off the pump and collecting his credit card and receipt while flipping open his wallet.

The kid shrugged, "How old you want me to be?"

Buck shook his head. "Listen, kid. You're not my type. Besides, you don't look old enough to be legal..."

"I'm 19, for Chrissake," the kid protested indignantly.

"Bullshit," Buck said.

"What do you want, a fucking birth certificate?" the kid griped.

"You want a date or not?"

Buck shook his head. "Told you son, I don't do jailbait." He pulled several twenties out of his wallet, glanced up at the dirty, shivering kid and added another hundred. He held the money out to the boy, watching as his eyes widened in anticipation.

The kid eyed him warily and licked his lips. "What do I have to do for it, mister?"

Buck grinned, figuring the kid had probably never seen that much money all in one place before, certainly not for one date. No wonder he was suspicious. "Go get yourself a decent meal, find yourself a motel room. Just get your ass off the street for a couple of nights, kid. 'Kay?"

The kid leaned in slowly, then quick as a snake his hand darted out and he snatched the money from Buck's hand and turned on his heel, running back into the shadows as fast as his legs would carry him.

Buck laughed out loud, but he sobered quickly enough. He only hoped that the kid would be smart enough to spend the money on the food he so obviously needed and on a warm bed for the night and not blow it on booze or drugs. He sighed and climbed back into the car. It was a shitty life for a kid all right.

He turned the car in the direction of his home, looking forward even more to tucking himself into Chris' arms and holding on tight. The kid had stirred up some dark memories for him, and it didn't take a genius to figure why. All that crap was behind him now, had been for years, but it sure didn't take much to bring it all crashing back in. Buck shook his head. Couldn't go there, wouldn't. He had Chris and his family, their home, more money than he could spend in a lifetime. He was safe.

And the kid? The kid just wasn't his problem.

*******

JD Dunne, you have hit the fucking jackpot! JD couldn't believe his eyes. A hundred and sixty dollars! The guy had given him a hundred and sixty dollars and he hadn't even wanted anything for it. JD had never been paid that much before, not even for the more offbeat things he'd sometimes had to agree to do. He just couldn't believe his luck.

He carefully tucked the money into his sock and looked around cautiously. He was going to find a cheap motel, way off the strip, as far as he could get from this place. He wouldn't come back here until he absolutely had to and if he was really careful he'd be able to make this cash last for at least a couple more days.

He'd already treated himself to a huge meal, bypassing McDonald's and slipping into a booth at Bob Evans. He'd ordered everything, soup, salad, ribs with vegetables and potatoes, dessert - the works. He had paced himself, hungry as he was, knowing that if he overdid it he'd just puke it all back up again and waste his money. He hadn't eaten more than a few mouthfuls of food since the night before, and even that had been scrounged from the alleyway behind the Chinese restaurant.

When he was sure the coast was clear, JD slipped out of the dark alley and began to walk quickly towards the bus depot. He passed a couple of boys on the street corner, keeping his head down so that they wouldn't call out and draw any attention to him. He breathed a huge sigh of relief when he rounded the corner safely, then almost passed out when he saw the pimp walking quickly towards him.

JD looked around in a panic, and saw two of the pimp's goons coming up behind him. He tried to make a dash for it, but he was easily cut off when the three men closed in on him and bundled him into an alleyway.

"JD, we missed you, boy. Been working?"

JD licked his lips nervously. "Nah. Been outta town for a couple days," he lied.

The pimp leered and jerked his head towards one of his cronies. The taller man moved in and pushed him none-too-gently up against a wall, turning out his pockets and patting him down roughly. The man shrugged and stepped back when he came up empty-handed and JD hissed out a small sigh.

"Not working, eh?" the pimp said, suspicion shading his voice. "Not exactly what we want to hear, is it?"

JD shrugged. "I'm going out tonight. Might get lucky," he offered.

The pimp looked at him hard, and JD tried to keep his expression impassive. But suddenly the pimp smiled and JD's blood ran cold.

"Hold him," the pimp ordered, and before JD knew it his arms were being pinned tightly to his side and the pimp was bearing down on him. He struggled with all his might, but he was no match for the superior strength and size of his attackers. The pimp knelt swiftly and avoided the kick JD aimed at his head. He shouted out a curse and one of his friends pulled back and slammed his fist into JD's stomach, making him double over in agony.

The pimp wasted no time frisking him, and came up with the roll of notes clutched in his hand. "Holding out on me, JD?" he asked. "I'm disappointed."

"Goddamn it, that's all I've got," JD yelled.

"Then it's all I'll take," the pimp smirked.

The men let him go and he slumped to his knees and the pimp pulled his head up by a handful of his hair and leaned in so close that JD could smell the beer and cigarettes on his breath. "We're gonna have a little reminder, son, of what happens when you try to fleece your friends." The pimp let him go and spoke to his goons. "Nothing permanent. I want him back on the streets tonight."

And the next thing JD knew he was lying in the alleyway, bloodied and bruised, puking his Bob Evans dinner special all over himself and the floor.

*******

Buck was restless and there was no point trying to fool himself about the reason. It was the kid. He couldn't seem to get the boy out of his mind and he didn't know why. God knows he'd seen plenty of kids plying their trade in the streets of this city and there'd been absolutely nothing different about the boy he'd seen two nights ago.

Skinny, half-starved, scruffy, a haunted look in his eyes. Just like all the streeters.

He'd told Chris about the boy. He hadn't actually planned to, but Chris could tell that something was bothering him and had worried at it until Buck had spilled the story. Chris had managed not to roll his eyes too obviously when Buck had told him about giving the kid some cash. Buck sighed. It certainly hadn't been the first time he'd put his hand in his pocket to help out a street hustler. And Chris pretty much tolerated his need to do that as often as he could, even though he seemed unable to resist lecturing Buck on how he couldn't help all of them. Buck wasn't stupid enough to think that he could help them all. But he sure as hell could help some of them.

Glancing at his watch he swore quietly and walked into the bathroom, turning on the shower and stripping down quickly. If he didn't move it he wouldn't be able to help anybody, including himself. He had a date starting in 35 minutes and he was gonna be late if he didn't haul ass.

He stepped beneath the showerhead and relaxed under the hot stream of water. His mind drifted back to the kid. He sure hadn't looked 19, but it was possible that he was. Crummy conditions and lack of food kept most of the street kids small and wiry. He wasn't going to keep those boyish looks, though, Buck mused, not living that kind of life.

Buck shook himself and sluiced water over his face. God, he had to get the kid out of his mind and get his head in the game. He had his own business to attend to and Chris would be pissed at him if either of tonight's clients complained about his lack of attention. He turned off the shower and stepped out, catching a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror. "Wilmington, you're a damned fool," he chided himself. Because he'd reached a decision. He would go out tonight when his last date was finished and he'd take a quick pass through the street hustler's turf. He wouldn't do more than drive by, he'd barely even look out the window. But if he happened to spot the kid, he'd stop and see how he was doing, maybe slip him a couple of bucks. And then that would be it. He'd get the kid out of his mind and go on with his life.

Feeling a lot happier, he walked out of the bathroom, drying himself off as he went. He had just pulled on his watch when the door opened and Chris came in, whistling in appreciation when he caught sight of Buck. Buck smiled and bent his head, thinking Chris would place a chaste kiss on his cheek, but next minute he found himself tumbled onto the bed, lying on his back with Chris straddling his hips, his jean-clad ass grinding down on Buck's growing erection.

Buck laughed breathlessly and circled Chris' wrists, jerking him forward. "Hold your horses there, stud. I have to hit the bricks in..." he glanced at his Rolex, "seven minutes. Unless you want me to keep my client waiting?"

Chris seemed to consider it, although Buck knew he was faking. "Is it one of your regulars?" he asked.

"Yep."

"Shit! Guess I'll have to wait then. What time are you home tonight?"

Buck rolled hard and tipped Chris onto the bed beside him. He reached down and stroked a hand down his lover's already attentive cock. "Frisky, ain't ya?" he grinned. "I've got dates at 6 and 7:30."

Chris cupped the stroking hand and pushed against it. "Great. You'll be home early and we can finish what we started." He groaned when Buck squeezed hard. "And if you're real good, I might even buy you dinner."

Buck snorted. "I'm the best you'll ever have, boy."

Chris leaned up and kissed him gently on the lips and when he pulled back his eyes had softened and he was smiling tenderly. "Won't argue with that," he breathed and Buck felt his heart swell with love.

"So, I'll expect you around 9 then?" Chris said.

Buck rolled off the bed and began to dress, keeping his eyes averted when he replied, "Maybe a bit later than that. I'm gonna make a quick stop first."

Chris sat up and gave him a keen, penetrating look, so he kept his head down, pretending to be busy with buttons. "Anything I should know about?" Chris asked. "Anything to do with that kid from the other night?"

"It's nothing for you to worry about, Chris," Buck said, raising his head and looking his lover in the eye to show him the truth in the words.

"That didn't exactly answer my question, did it?" Chris said pointedly.

Buck shrugged and ran a hand nervously through his hair.

Chris smiled a little. "Do you know how bad you are at lying to me?" he asked.

"Chris..." Buck groaned.

Chris held up his hand and climbed off the bed. "Okay. I won't push. Just don't get into any trouble is all."

Buck's face broke into a wide grin. He pulled on his tie and jacket, stuffed his wallet into his pocket and slipped his arms around his lover. "I've got my phone. I'll call you when I'm on my way home." He ground hard against Chris' cock. "You can warm it up again for me."

Chris snorted. "Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you Wilmington," he huffed. "Maybe I'll find somebody else to take care of it for me."

Buck chuckled. "Course you will, darlin'," he agreed genially, knowing a bluff when he heard one.

"Arrogant shit," Chris mumbled, but without any real heat. Buck glued his mouth to his lover's and sucked hard on his tongue, rubbing the heel of his hand over the still rigid shaft until Chris was moaning into his mouth. He pulled back and smiled. "Gotta go. Don't do anybody I wouldn't do."

"Funny man," Chris groused. "Don't give that kid all your money," he countered, which wiped the smirk off Buck's face in a very satisfying way.

*******

Okay, just one more pass and then that's it. If I don't find him this time I'll go home.

Buck spun the wheel on the BMW and made a left turn, preparing for his third circuit of Boystown. He hadn't entirely stuck with his original plan for a quick drive through, had found himself making the circuit once, then twice, and now three times in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the dark haired kid. He'd been propositioned more than a dozen times, but not by the boy he was looking for. He had already given away over two hundred dollars, all of the tip money he had made tonight, and Chris was gonna kick his ass for him. But there was no way he could look into the hungry faces of these kids and not fork over a little cash to help them keep the wolf from the door and the pimp off their back.

He eased the car around the corner once more and this time when he passed the square he caught sight of a shock of black hair, and saw the skinny kid standing in the middle of a group of other streeters.

He was a little surprised at how relieved he felt, and how that relief was tangled up with something else, something a whole lot more personal, something he didn't feel like examining right now.

Buck pulled the car over and leaned on the horn and when the kid looked up he waved him over. The boy approached, looking a little leery at first, then breaking into a broad smile. "BMW guy," he said by way of a greeting. "Decided you couldn't live without me after all?"

Buck snorted. "Just in the neighborhood. Thought I'd drop by, see how you are."

The kid leered. "Only one reason to be in this neighborhood this time of night. What can I do you for?"

Buck shook his head. "I'm not looking for a date, son."

The kid scowled and glanced around furtively. "Then you'd better move on, mister," he said quietly. "I'm not standing on a fucking street corner to pass the time of day. I'm working here."

Buck was about to open his mouth again when a figure detached itself from the group of kids and walked towards the car. The boy caught the movement and turned his head slightly, flinching when he saw the older guy approaching. The pimp, Buck guessed. It wasn't difficult to spot their kind, a cookie-cutter bad ass with a shitload of attitude and the swagger of a man who knew how to bully kids and terrorize the weak. But Buck was neither a kid, nor a man who was easily intimidated. And he no longer feared this guy's type.

The pimp threw an arm over the kid's shoulder and looked at Buck, who knew immediately that he was being sized up. As always, the flashy car and expensive clothes gave out the intended message of wealth and the pimp dredged up a shark-like smile. "Good choice, man. JD's one of the best."

Buck said nothing, just watched while the kid squirmed and shrank away from the pimp.

"He'll do whatever you want," the pimp continued, oblivious. "If the price is right."

Buck glanced at the boy, who looked so scared and miserable that

Buck forgot his plan just to give the kid some money and beat it out of there, ignored the voice screaming in his head that Chris was gonna have a shit fit, and said to the boy, "Get in."

The kid paused for a fraction of a second, then scrambled around to the passenger side and climbed into the front seat.

"Payment's up front," the pimp said. He looked Buck up and down once again, weighing what he thought he could charge and get away with.

"A hundred for an hour."

Buck pulled out his wallet and extracted a one hundred dollar bill. He held it out to the pimp, but pulled back when the man reached for the cash. "I'll give you a hundred, and I get him all night," he said, in a tone that didn't allow for argument, at least when used on anybody but Chris. He heard the hiss of a sharply sucked in breath from the kid beside him, and saw greed warring with consternation in the pimp's eyes, recognizing the exact moment when greed won out.

The pimp nodded his head and snatched at the money. "Don't mess the goods up too badly," the pimp said. "And JD," Buck was aware of the kid stiffening beside him, "I'll expect you back here bright and early tomorrow."

Buck pulled the car away and the kid blew out a loud breath and relaxed with a sigh.

"So, your place or mine?" the kid asked sarcastically and Buck smiled at the thought of Chris' face if he were to bring the boy home with him.

"I told you already, kid," he said firmly, "this isn't a date."

The boy looked over at him skeptically. "You didn't just pay that asshole a hundred bucks for the pleasure of my company and my stimulatin' conversation," he stated, equally firmly.

Buck shrugged. "I didn't want your ass the other night," he pointed out reasonably.

The kid frowned. "You some kind of social worker, mister? Saving lost souls and all that shit?"

Buck fought down on the grin that threatened to spread across his face. "Something like that, son," he said. Hell, it wasn't that far from the truth. He reckoned the service he provided was the best kind of therapy some of his clients would ever get.

The kid shook his head. "Bullshit! Ain't never seen a social worker with wheels like this," he fingered the material of Buck's Versace suit, "nor one who could afford anything better than off-the-rack Wal-Mart. What's your game?"

Same as yours, kid, Buck thought, but he didn't say it. He didn't know why, but he wasn't prepared to reveal that much about himself. Not just yet. Instead he turned the car into the parking lot of Surf 'N Turf and cut the engine. "You hungry?" he asked, and laughed when the kid's face lit up into a wide grin.

They found a booth in the restaurant and Buck told the kid to order whatever he wanted while he excused himself to make a call. It was already past 10 and Chris would be waiting for him, horny and hungry, not the best combination considering the fact that Buck was about to blow him off for pretty much the rest of the night.

He walked into the hallway leading to the restrooms and pushed one of the pre-set keys on his cell phone. Chris picked up on the first ring, horny and hungry and pissed.

"Wilmington, why aren't you lying between my legs with your mouth wrapped around my cock?" he demanded, sounding incredibly sexy for the heat of want in his voice.

Buck felt a shiver of desire tingle up his spine and said ruefully, "Slight change of plan. Give me another couple of hours?"

"A couple of hours!" Chris growled. "I'll have exploded by then. Get your ass home now."

"Aww come on, babe. Cut me a little slack here," Buck cajoled. "It's important."

He heard Chris huff out a breath and smiled when his lover said, "Important, huh?" in a slightly less grumpy tone, then, suspiciously, "Is this something to do with that kid? You getting involved?"

Buck looked down the hallway and watched as the kid attacked a plate of food with gusto. "It's nothing. Just that JD--"

"Aww hell, Buck," Chris cut in. "You know his fucking name! You're involved."

Buck felt a flash of irritation. "I'm not involved. I'm just buying the kid a decent meal. Now, do I get my two hours, or not?"

There was a pause and Buck could almost hear his lover's mind clicking through the options. If Chris said no he'd pay for the kid's meal and take himself home, but he knew the man too well and Chris wouldn't say no to him. "Is this something I'm gonna want to kick your ass over?" his lover asked instead.

"Probably," Buck confessed.

Another pause. "You gonna make the wait worthwhile?"

"Definitely."

"Okay," Chris agreed reluctantly. "Two hours. One minute more, though, and I'll be fucking Vin instead of you and your scrawny ass will be sleeping on the couch for the rest of the week. Ya hear?"

Buck chuckled at the idle threat. "That's it, you just keep it simmering for me," he purred and hung up.

JD glanced up between forkfuls of steak and fries, watching the BMW man surreptitiously. He was having a pretty intense phone conversation, and it was making him smile a lot. It sure felt good to ease up and eat without worrying about having to put out later. If he could trust this guy not to turn on him and demand payback. He watched as the man shut off his phone and returned to the table, and he had such a goofy little grin on his face that JD relaxed. Maybe it was stupid, but somehow he did trust the guy to hold to his word.

The man sat in the booth opposite him and began to drink his coffee, the only thing he'd ordered where JD had ordered practically half the menu. He jerked his head towards the cell phone.

"The little woman?" he asked, fishing for information.

The man looked startled and a grin split his handsome face. "Something like that," he answered.

JD looked at him critically. "You're not wearing a wedding band," he pointed out. "Maybe it isn't so serious?"

The man laughed out loud at him. "Serious enough," he smiled.

JD wiped his greasy hand on his jeans and held it out. "JD Dunne." He was about to add "at your service," but that wasn't entirely true tonight.

The man reached out and shook his hand. "Buck Wilmington."

JD returned to his food while Buck sipped his coffee. "That guy back there your pimp?" Buck asked.

JD grimaced and swallowed down a big mouthful of steak. "If by 'pimp' you mean somebody who looks out for me and gives me a place to sleep and keeps ignorant tricks from beating the shit out of me, then no," he said, and watched Buck's eyebrows quirk up in amusement. "But if by 'pimp' you mean somebody who rips me off, takes my hard-earned cash for himself and gets his goons to rough me up whenever he feels like it, then I guess the answer is yes," he continued, more bitterly than he had intended.

Buck frowned. "That where you get the bruise on your face?" he asked.

JD nodded. The bruise on his face, the cuts on his chest, the black and blue footprints on his back and his legs. But he wasn't about to let that information slip.

"Why'd you stay?" Buck asked.

JD cocked his head to one side and countered with a question of his own. "How'd you know where to find me tonight?"

Buck frowned. "Because that's where all the boy hustlers hang out," he replied.

"Bingo," JD said, with only the smallest trace of sarcasm. "That's where the business is at. And that's the turf that fucking pimp owns. If I want to work I have to put up with his bullshit. Rules of the street."

"Guess you don't have anybody to go home to?"

JD scratched his head, wondering how far he wanted to spill his guts to this man he barely knew. In the end he decided to steer the middle course; not a lie, not the whole truth either.

"Nobody who'd want to see me like this," he said quietly, and thought he saw a flare of understanding in Buck's eyes.

"Did you get to keep any of the money I gave you the other night?" Buck asked softly and JD shook his head, looking away from the too-perceptive gaze, fighting back the tears that welled suddenly and unexpectedly.

"How's the food?" Buck asked a little too brightly, and JD smiled in gratitude that Buck wasn't going to press him for details and make the foolish tears spill out over his lashes.

"Delicious," JD said, cramming another mouthful in.

"What say you and I go find a motel for the night..." Buck trailed off when JD reared his head. "Just for you kid," Buck continued softly.

JD was surprised at the disappointment he felt. He could think of a lot worse ways to spend the night than wrapped in the arms of this guy. "Sounds good," he said, hoping his thoughts hadn't translated to his face.

Buck drove him to an inexpensive but decent motel a few miles from the strip and booked a room for the night, paying up front. JD took the key and let them both into the room, and he was crazily aware of the double bed that seemed to loom so large in the small space. He glanced at Buck, who was smiling at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

Buck reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, grabbing a handful of notes and holding them out. "Nah, man," JD said, shaking his head vigorously. "You already gave the pimp way too much for me, and you bought me food and you've paid for this place. It's enough. I don't want your money," he paused for a minute, he didn't have a clue why, but he liked Buck, trusted him. "Unless you want to stay?" he offered, shyly.

Buck stepped up close, and JD breathed in deeply of the warm, rich cologne he was wearing and the intoxicating scent that seemed to be coming off his body. "It's a really enticing offer," Buck said, and he actually sounded pretty genuine. "But I've got somebody waiting for me."

JD shrugged. "The little woman?" he asked and the grin danced back across Buck's face.

"Something like that," Buck repeated, laughing a little.

"Well, you know where I am if you get bored with her," JD said and Buck just nodded. "So, thanks for everything," JD continued, more cheerfully than he felt.

Buck reached out and pulled him into a hug and JD's arms came up almost automatically to wind around the bigger man. He closed his eyes and for a minute he just clung tightly while Buck stroked a hand over his hip, sending a jolt of yearning through him. But before things could go any further, Buck stepped back.

"I'll see you around, JD Dunne. You take care of yourself," Buck said, and before JD knew it, he was standing in the room all alone and even the two hundred dollars Buck had pressed into his back pocket didn't completely erase the mild sting of regret.

*******

Chris woke up slowly, his eyes fluttering open, feeling relaxed and happy, and maybe the tiniest bit sore. Buck had made good on his promise last night and had definitely been worth waiting for. He had arrived home close to midnight, breathless and eager. Chris had been lying on the couch in the den, spooned up close to Vin, watching a movie and trading occasional friendly kisses. Buck had swept into the room and reached down to grab Chris' hand and had jerked him onto his feet then tumbled them both down onto a large armchair. He had tucked Chris tightly up against him and claimed his mouth in a long, slow kiss, his hands roaming possessively over Chris' body. They stopped long enough to drag in a deep breath and Buck grinned over at Vin.

"So, slick. You been making a move on my man?"

Vin shrugged. "Just keeping him warm for you, Bucklin," he drawled.

Chris gasped when Buck slipped a hand down the front of his sweatpants and grasped his engorged cock.

"You did a good job, son. But I'll take it from here," Buck murmured, stroking hard and fast and Chris threw his head back and shuddered under the assault. "You wanna join us?" Buck asked.

Vin smiled but shook his head. "I'll take a pass tonight, gents. Told Ez I'd wait up for him."

Buck climbed to his feet and pulled Chris up beside him, throwing an arm over his shoulder. "Night then. Thanks for keeping him interested. Now I can skip the foreplay and go straight to the fucking."

He hadn't, of course. He had thrown himself body and soul into wanton pleasure and Chris had surrendered completely to hands, and mouth and cock. He had been so consumed by passion, so intent on experiencing everything Buck did to him, that it wasn't until now that Chris realized that there had been a faintly frantic undertone to Buck's attentions. He had told Chris in a dozen different ways that he loved him, and had needed to hear the same protestations from Chris, who had been only too glad to provide them. It was rare these days for either of them to need much vocalization outside their easy, regular expressions of love and Chris had found it surprisingly touching.

Buck stirred in the bed beside him, shuffling closer, even though still asleep, until they were glued tightly together. Chris rolled up onto his side and propped himself on an elbow, looking down on his partner. Buck had an uncharacteristic frown furrowing his brow and as Chris watched his lover moaned and shifted again restlessly. "Shhh," Chris soothed, cupping a gentle hand to his face and waiting until the big body relaxed again. It was unusual for Buck to be so fretful; he usually slept hard and sound, at least when Chris was with him.

Chris pondered the possible cause of Buck's unease. He hoped to hell that this kid his lover seemed so taken with wasn't yanking Buck's chain, wasn't pulling him into something he shouldn't get involved in. Buck was way too soft hearted for his own good and if Chris found out that this kid was taking advantage of him there was gonna be trouble.

Chris knew that Buck had given the boy money, that he gave money to the street kids practically every time he walked out the door. He smiled to himself as he stroked a hand through his lover's soft dark hair. Buck was the only prostitute he knew who came back from a date more broke than when he went. Chris liked to rag on him a little, just to keep him sharp, but he really didn't care what Buck chose to do with his spending money and if giving it to streeters made him happy, that was just fine with him. Besides, Buck would never want for anything, whether he had money in his pockets or not; Chris would see to that.

Buck moved again, blinked several times and when he finally looked up Chris was glad to see that unlike the old days after Buck had spent a fretful night, his eyes were unclouded by pain or sorrow.

He dropped a kiss onto his lover's cheek and Buck sighed and snuggled closer.

"Had a good night?" Chris asked.

Buck chuckled, low and dirty.

"I don't mean that, idiot," Chris said fondly. "I mean with your kid. How much did he take you for last night?"

Buck stiffened and pulled away and Chris was surprised at the vehemence in his lover's voice when he snarled, "It isn't like that."

"Easy," Chris murmured. "I didn't mean anything by it."

Buck glared at him for a moment longer, then as suddenly as his temper had flared it died and he pulled Chris sharply towards him and hugged him tightly, tucking his face against Chris' neck and clinging hard.

Chris was startled by his lover's lightning mood swing. He eased them both back down onto the bed and rearranged them so that they were face-to-face. "Have you gotten him out of your system?" he asked quietly.

Buck dropped his gaze and after a moment he mumbled, reluctantly. "Guess so." And although Buck probably didn't realize it, Chris knew that his lover was lying to himself. Somehow this kid had gotten under Buck's skin, had wormed his way around Buck's carefully constructed defenses. As Buck reached for him, burying his true emotions behind familiar passion, Chris prayed that the kid wouldn't hurt his lover, wouldn't stir up all the pain and anguish that Buck had fought so hard for so many years to put behind him. And as Chris succumbed once again to Buck's mastery over his body, he vowed that he would do everything in his power to ensure that Buck was never hurt like that ever again.

*******

JD stretched and wriggled, moving unobtrusively closer to the man lying on the bed next to him. He had imagined this more than a few times before, snuggled up with Buck in this motel room, wallowing in the man's undivided attention. Then the cell phone rang and Buck snatched it up and rolled off the bed and the spell was instantly broken.

Well, it wasn't exactly how he'd imagined it anyway. Both he and Buck were fully clothed and they were lying on top of the covers instead of tangled up underneath them. Damned typical, JD mused. The only person he'd ever met that he'd consider giving it away for free, and so far the guy hadn't made a single move on him, hadn't even touched him beyond a couple of friendly hugs.

It was pretty obvious that Buck was all tied up with this chick who was always calling him. She was on the phone now, JD could tell. Buck's face softened whenever he spoke to her, became sweet and radiant, that far-away loving look in his eye stirring up a pang of jealousy in JD. He tried not to listen to the conversation, which was pretty one-sided anyway. Buck rarely spoke much when she called, just listened and nodded and smiled.

JD saw Buck glance at his watch and knew his time was almost over. Buck would wind it down now, give him some money, despite his protests, and would leave and go to her. This had been going on for three weeks now, and the pattern rarely changed. Buck picked him up off the streets two or three times during the week, took him to a restaurant, brought him to this motel, spent an hour or two chatting, then left with a brief hug and a promise to see him again soon. When he'd gone JD always found the cash Buck had left for him, never making a big deal out of it, just paying as though they had actually had a date and JD had put out. He supposed he should be grateful. It was the easiest money he had ever made.

See you soon, darlin'," Buck murmured into the phone before cutting the connection and walking back towards the bed. He sat down on the edge, his 'about to take off' stance as JD had come to recognize it.

He'd resisted asking Buck too many questions until now, the man wasn't exactly a blabbermouth when it came to talking about himself, but JD gave in to his curiosity this time.

"What's her name?"

"Huh?"

"The little woman? The one who's got you so wrapped round her little finger you jump every time she calls?"

"Oh," Buck smiled. "Chris. Listen, kid. I really have to run."

"Yeah, wouldn't do to keep her waiting," JD said scornfully and regretted it when Buck looked at him sharply. Cool it, JD, he warned himself. He rolled off the bed and onto his feet. "Maybe see you around," he said quickly, before Buck saw more than he should.

Buck climbed to his feet. "Sure, kid. Stay outta trouble." He pulled JD into a hug and he had to work hard as hell to stop himself from grabbing the man and clinging to him as tightly as he could. As it was he held on a few moments longer than he should have, relishing the bulk of the man, the feeling of security he always got when Buck was around.

Buck took a step backwards, but he held JD between his hands and looked at him intently. "You okay?" Buck asked.

JD shrugged him off. "Peachy," he muttered. "You'd better go. Don't want Chris pitching a fit do we?"

Buck looked startled for a minute, then laughed and shook his head. "I can stay a while longer if you want," he offered. And even though JD knew he should refuse, he couldn't stop himself nodding and was absurdly grateful when Buck sat back down on the bed and continued to chat happily.

A half hour later and JD's guilt got the better of him. If he took too much of Buck's time this Chris chick would kick up a fuss and he really didn't want to make things difficult for his friend. So he jumped up and hustled Buck towards the door.

"I'll come by when I can. Look after yourself," Buck said and JD watched, heart sinking, as Buck waved and walked out of the door.

Boy, you have got to quit this shit, he told himself. It was frightening, the way he had come so quickly to depend on seeing Buck Wilmington. And it couldn't last. The man had zero interest in his ass, was obviously head over heels with Chris. He'd get bored of the Good Samaritan routine quickly enough and then JD would never see the man again. Do not get involved, Dunne, he admonished. They all let you down sooner or later.

He glanced at the bed, where Buck had thrown a wad of notes. Jesus but he felt crappy about this. After the first night Buck had picked him up, the pimp had tracked him down and searched him, practically cleaning him out, leaving him only one twenty dollar bill. And he'd continued to rob him blind after every date, letting him keep enough for dinner and not much else. JD simply had nowhere to hide the cash. He only had the clothes Buck had bought him a week ago, no room of his own, no place to stash anything. It made him sick that Buck's money was going into that bastard's pocket.

Picking up the cash he carefully counted it, then rooted around in the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a pencil and a small notebook. As neatly as he could he added the figure of one hundred dollars to the lengthening column under the heading 'cash', then wrote the date under the column heading 'motel room'. Doing the arithmetic in his head, adding the cash handouts, the room rental, the clothes and food Buck had bought him, he figured he was easily into the man for almost a thousand dollars. Add to that the hundred bucks a night he had to pay the pimp, and he now owed Buck a small fortune. He was absolutely determined that he would repay Buck every penny, although he had no idea how he would ever do it.

Sighing, feeling strangely lonely, he climbed back onto the bed and started to flick idly through the channels on the TV. He was resolved to begin weaning himself off his foolish dependence on this man he barely knew, who revealed practically nothing about himself and who made it way too easy to spill his own guts. This had been nice, hell it had been fantastic, but Buck Wilmington wasn't gonna be around forever and it was time he started to make alternate arrangements for his future.

*******

Buck pulled into the garage and hopped out of the car at a run, skidding to a halt in the kitchen when he found Chris standing by the counter, all but drumming his fingers with impatience.

"Sorry, Chris, I know I'm late," Buck panted.

Chris eyed him coolly. "Do I need to ask you where you've been?"

Buck decided to try to sidestep the argument he felt was brewing. "How about we try that new Mexican place around the corner? Maybe see if any of the other guys want to come with us?"

Chris quirked an eyebrow, knowing full well that Buck was dissembling. "You think having the others there will stop me finding out what you're up to?" Chris asked.

"Do I have time for a shower?" Buck asked, continuing to ignore Chris' line of questioning.

Chris glared hard at him, but in the end he sighed and shrugged. "I'll give you ten minutes, then I'm leaving without you," he threatened.

Buck sensed victory and moved in closer, winding his arms around his lover. "How about you give me twenty minutes and come with me?" he flirted.

Chris snorted and shook him off. "I'm already clean."

"Then give me thirty minutes and I'll help you work up a sweat first," Buck seduced, and when Chris smiled reluctantly Buck knew that he'd won him over.

Thirty minutes later he was lying face down on the bed, Chris' sweaty body sprawled across his back, his lover's cock pulsing and twitching inside him, panting breath tickling his ear. Buck would have gladly spent the rest of the night in exactly this position, except that Chris' stomach growled loudly and he eased slowly out of Buck's body and rolled off him.

Buck had just snuggled deeper into the warm bed when he felt a stinging slap across his buttocks. "Come on, get your lazy ass out of bed. You're buying me dinner," Chris ordered. Buck groaned but dutifully obeyed and soon he was standing under the shower, face raised to the warm spray while Chris vigorously soaped his back.

"I thought you'd finished with that kid," Chris said close up to his ear.

Jesus, Buck thought, Chris was like a damned dog worrying at a bone when he had something on his mind.

"Yeah. Thought so too." He really had, although Chris probably wouldn't believe that. He'd thought he could just walk away and the kid would slip out of his mind. But it hadn't worked out that way and he'd soon returned to the streets, picking up with the kid where he'd left off.

"Does it bother you?" Buck asked, wondering what he'd do if his lover said yes.

The stroking hands faltered for a moment, then Chris' voice bounced off the shower walls. "I don't want to see you hurt," he said, and Buck turned around, startled.

"That itty bitty little boy isn't gonna hurt me, Chris," he said.

Chris ducked his head, but Buck put a hand under his chin and lifted his face until their eyes met.

"I don't like you going down there," Chris blurted. "It's dangerous."

"Chris," Buck laughed, "I can take care of myself, you know that." Chris didn't look too convinced. "I'm not the same person," Buck continued, more seriously. "I'm not that 16 year old kid anymore. Nobody is gonna hurt me this time. Okay?"

Chris met his gaze steadily, then nodded reluctantly. "Just watch yourself is all I'm saying. You're not indestructible, whatever you might think."

"I'll be fine," Buck hurried to reassure. "Now, let's go see who wants to join us." He hoped that the company of friends, a decent meal and a couple of pitchers of margaritas would help Chris relax and shake off his unreasonable anxiety. The man was a born worrier and everything was going to be just fine.

*******

Buck grinned when he pulled the car up to the sidewalk and it was immediately surrounded by a half dozen kids. Despite the fact that he had refused their advances for days now, it didn't stop the kids from propositioning him.

"Come on, man. What's JD got that I haven't? I'll even give you a special rate."

"Give me a ride in that fancy car and I'll do you for free."

Buck laughed and pulled out his wallet. "Not tonight, guys. But thanks for the offers. Here, go buy yourselves a cup of coffee." He handed each of the kids a twenty and they grinned at him, pocketing the cash quickly.

Any of you know where he is?" Buck asked, scanning the square but coming up empty.

The kids exchanged troubled glances. "What?" Buck asked, suddenly worried.

One of the older boys looked around him nervously then stepped close. "He's in the back alley with a trick. The guy's trouble, a real space cadet."

Buck felt his stomach roll over. "Where's that fucking pimp?" he asked. "He's supposed to be looking out for you boys."

The older kid shrugged. "He took off about an hour ago. But he wouldn't do anything anyway. He figures as long as they pay and don't do any permanent damage, they can pretty much do what they want to us."

Buck cursed silently. "Where?" he asked, and the kids gestured toward a narrow alleyway. Buck climbed out of the car, knowing it would be safe with the kids watching it. He'd given them plenty of cash over the past days without expecting anything in return, and these kids knew how to return a favor.

The alley was dark and stank of piss and rotting food. Buck choked down a reflexive gag, not just nausea from the smell, but the overwhelming rush of painful memory rising up in him. But he couldn't let that slow him down now. He'd caught sight of two shadowy figures in a doorway, and even in the inky blackness of the night he could clearly see that JD was in trouble.

The kid was crowded up against a door, boxed in by a tall man who was refusing to let him past. Buck walked up behind the man, and saw the look of intense relief that flashed across the kid's face when he caught sight of him.

"Mister, you'd best step aside and let that kid out," Buck said, and then things moved so quickly that he wasn't quite sure what happened next. All he knew was that the tall man whirled around suddenly, that JD shouted out his name in warning, and that he felt a sting of pain slicing up his forearm before the man barreled past him, all but knocking him off his feet.

"Son of a bitch, motherfucker," JD screamed to the man's retreating back, and Buck would have laughed out loud at the kid's spunk except that his arm was stinging like hell and blood was dripping everywhere and the only thing he could think of right now was that Chris was going to go fucking apeshit!

D pulled off his shirt and quickly wrapped it around Buck's arm. "Thanks, kid. I'll buy you a new one," Buck said.

"Who cares about the fucking shirt, that asshole cut you," JD yelled, obviously panicked at the way the blood seeped right through the material.

Yeah. Fucker," Buck agreed mildly.

"We have to get you to a hospital..." JD began, pulling at him to make him move.

"Whoa, hold on there, kid," Buck said, using his good arm to grab JD's tee shirt and slow him down. "It ain't nothing more than a scratch. No hospitals."

"But, Buck..."

"I said no," Buck repeated sternly. "Got a friend can patch me up, no questions asked."

JD paused to consider that, his quick mind so obviously working overtime that Buck had to try to distract him before he made too many connections. "Let's get you out of here before that asshole pimp of yours gets back," he said.

JD frowned but nodded and the two of them hurried across the square and jumped into the car.

"Damn! I don't want to get blood everywhere. Chris'll kill me," he muttered. Not strictly true. Chris wouldn't give a shit about the car, but worrying on his behalf might keep the kid's mind occupied and stop him asking questions about Buck's unwillingness to seek professional help.

"Here," JD said, and reached over to carefully unwind the shirt. The cut on Buck's forearm was long and ugly looking but it was shallow, and although it bled like a bitch Buck could tell that it wasn't really serious and wouldn't require stitching. Still, he needed to clean it up and get it seen to. He needed Nathan.

"I'm gonna drop you off at the motel," he told JD.

The kid cut a look over at him. "Why don't you let me drive you home?" he asked.

Buck grinned at him. "Let you loose in my BMW? Not a chance, kid."

JD rolled his eyes and made a face at him. They drove to the motel in silence, JD lost in thought. When Buck had paid for the room and they were standing in the doorway, JD turned to him, an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. "Thanks, Buck," he said sincerely. "Nobody's ever put themselves on the line like that for me before."

Buck smiled and reached out to ruffle the kid's hair. "You're welcome. Listen, I've paid for the room for the next couple nights. Take this," he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

"No, Buck. You have to stop giving me all your money," JD said, exasperated.

"Take it," Buck insisted, pressing a roll of bills into his hand. "Stay off the streets for a day or two. I'll come by soon and we'll figure a few things out. Promise me you'll stay here until I come for you."

JD frowned hard, but he nodded.

"Good boy. I'll see you soon as I can."

He started to leave but stopped when JD called his name. "She really gonna be mad at you?" the kid asked.

Buck was momentarily confused.

"Chris," the kid elaborated.

Buck smiled, still getting a real kick out of the kid's misunderstanding. "Nah, Chris'll be fine," he said, waving as he turned and walked towards the car. Well, that was a pile of horse shit, he thought to himself. Because Chris was going to be very, very far from fine.

*******

Buck was enormously relieved when he got home and found that Chris was still out. From the expressions on Vin and Ezra's faces, the cut on his arm looked pretty bad, even though he was sure that it was nothing to worry about. Still, if the others reacted like that, Chris would go nuts if he caught a look at it. He needed to get it cleaned up and hidden before his lover jumped to all the wrong conclusions.

"Nathan home?" he asked.

"In his apartment," Vin replied. "Damn it, Bucklin. You're bleeding like a stuck pig."

"You got a talent for stating the obvious, slick," Buck drawled. "Do me a favor? Call Nate, ask him to meet me upstairs. And if Chris comes home, try to stall him for a while."

Ezra threw up a stilling hand. "I'll call Nathan. But you're on your own with Chris."

Buck climbed the two flights of stairs up to his suite and ducked into the bathroom to wash off the blood. Nathan arrived a minute later, medical supplies in hand, muttering fiercely to himself about damn fools and the trouble they got into. Buck grinned at his friend.

"Come sit down," Nathan instructed gruffly. "Tell me what happened."

Buck sat on the couch and held out his arm, wincing slightly and hissing in a sharp breath when Nathan began to dab at the slice on his forearm with an antibiotic lotion.

Spaced out trick," he said simply.

Nathan's eyebrows shot up in alarm. "Not one of your regulars, surely?" he asked.

Buck ducked his head, feeling a little sheepish. "Not one of my tricks. The kid I met."

Nathan looked at him in silence, then just shook his head. "He's gonna go insane," he said, and Buck didn't need to ask who the "he" referred to. Chris was going to go ballistic.

"Maybe he won't be so bad," Buck said hopefully, "It's not much of a cut." Nathan just snorted and Buck sighed. No point fooling himself, things were going to get ugly.

Nathan had just finished cleaning the cut when they both heard footsteps thundering up the stairs and a tightly controlled voice shouting, "Buck..." Chris was home, and it was pretty obvious that he'd been warned about his partner's injury.

Buck and Nathan looked at each other and muttered in unison, "Aww shit."

Chris burst through the door, took in the scene in a heartbeat and launched into a diatribe. "I warned you something like this would happen. I told you that kid was trouble. Well that's it. You are not going back there, you hear? Never again. You set one foot back on that kid's turf and I'll--"

"Relax, Chris," Buck cut in. "It's looks worse than it is. Tell him, Nate."

"It's a very shallow cut, Chris. Lot of blood but there won't be any permanent damage, not even a scar."

"I've cut myself worse shaving," Buck said mildly. "It's nothing."

Chris, who had been pacing madly, came to a complete halt. "Getting cut by a fucked up street trick is not nothing, you stupid, stubborn sonofabitch. What if he'd pulled a gun instead of a knife? You think about that?"

"But he didn't," Buck said reasonably, although the same thought had definitely occurred to him.

"You were goddamned lucky this time," Chris said, voice tight and low. "Well you sure as hell won't be there next time some spaced out coke head shows up. I am ordering you to stay away. I will not let you get dragged back into all that shit on account of a kid you hardly know. Don't you remember what it was like, what it cost us..."

Buck's head reared, his eyes flashing and Chris recoiled from the incredulity and anger he saw there. "I'm not talking about the money," he said sharply, furious that Buck would think he would refer to that at all, let alone in front of one of their friends. It was something they simply never discussed, not even with each other, not since it had happened years ago. "You've done what you could for that kid, you've given him enough. And you're gonna stop right now."

Buck stood suddenly. "Nate, you wanna give us a minute here?" he asked.

And even through the red haze of anger Chris registered the look of relief that flashed across Nathan's otherwise placid face. He rose, gathering up his supplies and said to Buck, "Come find me when you've finished. I need to bandage that cut for you."

"Sure," Buck replied, his eyes never leaving Chris' face. "This won't take long."

When he'd left the room, closing the door quietly behind him, Chris took a step closer to his lover. "Promise me, Buck," he insisted. "Promise you'll drop this whole damned thing."

"Can't," Buck said, gently but firmly.

Chris felt cold fear creeping up his spine. He was not going to let this happen. He was not going to stand by and watch his lover go down that ugly, painful path again. Anger and frustration flared, hot and bright. "I won't let you do this..." he started.

Buck threw up a hand. "Chris, back down. I'm warning you."

Chris met his lover's steely gaze and knew he had hit a wall, knew absolutely that the man was not going to give in on this, even knew how Buck would react if he pursued it.

But he couldn't stop himself.

He opened his mouth and shouted, "Goddamnit, Buck, you--" which was as far as he got before Buck jerked back his fist and delivered a stinging blow that caught Chris high on the cheekbone and sent him stumbling backwards.

His hand automatically flew to his face and he stared at his lover, easily reading how determination warred with regret. Knowing there was nothing further he could do, Chris turned on his heel and walked out of the room without another word.

Buck flexed his sore hand, and absently noted that his cut had re-opened and a thin line of blood was oozing from the skin. Nathan was going to be pissed with him. He waited, knowing in his heart that Chris wouldn't be back anytime soon, but giving him the opportunity just in case. Two minutes later he shook his head, "Damn stubborn cuss. Will he never learn?" he thought, then sighing loudly he left the room and went in search of Nathan

Vin glanced around the room thinking how much he enjoyed times like this, when all of his friends were gathered in the kitchen together, conversation flowing, frequent laughter, coffee or beer going down easy. The only person missing was Chris and they hadn't seen him for a couple of hours. According to Buck he just needed a little time to himself, although Vin suspected that Chris was actually off somewhere tearing his hair out over the injury Buck had taken for the street kid he'd become so attached to. The wound hadn't been bad, but it was certainly enough to send Chris off the deep end.

Nathan had bandaged Buck up and he was now standing at the kitchen counter talking to Josiah about resources for streeters. It was pretty obvious that Buck was fond of this kid, JD, and from what Nathan had told them earlier Chris was unhappy with Buck's attachment.

He looked over at his friend and shook his head. Buck was a soft touch, all right. They all knew how much money he gave away to the kids working the streets and what a sucker he was for their hard luck stories. From the bits and pieces he'd heard from Chris and the very few times Buck had let anything slip, he'd figured out that Buck had done some street time himself in his younger days. And though that life was tough as hell for anybody, Vin got the impression that it had been particularly shitty for Buck.

He'd never pressed for details. None of the guys were inclined to say too much about their lives before joining the agency. Not a lack of trust in each other, but for some of them those times were best forgotten. He was just glad that Chris had invited him into the business a couple of years ago or no telling where he'd be right now, probably not much better off than this kid, JD.

He turned towards Ezra, about to ask a question about his schedule for tonight, but the shocked look on his friend's face stopped him. He glanced over his shoulder to see what Ezra was staring at, and his own mouth fell open. Chris had just walked into the kitchen and paused in the doorway, and it was apparent that somebody had recently given the man a pretty solid punch because a painful-looking black eye was starting to swell and a bruise was purpling his cheek.

Vin caught a movement and looked over to see that Buck was holding out a hand, although he hadn't stopped talking to Josiah and wasn't even looking at Chris. Chris ignored everybody else in the room and crossed quickly towards Buck, sliding his arms around his lover's waist and tucking his unbruised cheek against Buck's chest. Buck's arms came up around Chris' back and he pulled the man in close, holding him while he asked Josiah, "You really think that's the best he can hope for?"

For a moment Josiah didn't answer, obviously as surprised as the others, but he collected himself quickly and replied, "'Fraid so, Buck. Not many options for a kid in that life."

Vin didn't hear the rest of the conversation between the two men. He exchanged glances with Nathan and Ezra, both of whom shrugged. This was something new for all of them then. Vin knew that Chris and Buck got up to some pretty kinky shit together. He'd seen the evidence of their "games" on both men's bodies, but he'd never seen something like this before, something that looked closer to regular violence than to love or sex.

Chris stayed where he was just holding tightly onto Buck, face nuzzled under his chin, until Josiah excused himself and left the kitchen. Then Buck raised Chris' head and the two men kissed long and hard.

"I should take a look at that eye," Nathan said, his tone non-committal.

Chris didn't turn around, just said, "I'm fine."

"You sure?" Nathan pressed.

"Leave it alone, Nate," Buck said quietly, and Vin got the distinct impression that these two had been here before and knew how to handle it themselves.

Buck leaned down and whispered into Chris' ear, and Chris nodded and they walked out of the room hand-in-hand.

"Well, that was interesting," Ezra said, breaking the silence. "What do you suppose it was all about?"

Nathan threw up his hands. "Don't know, don't want to know. The last place I want to be is in the middle of those two when they go at it. And if you take my advice, you'll stay out of the way too."

"I can assure you, Mr. Jackson, I have no intention of interfering in that bizarre relationship," Ezra drawled. "My clients provide me with all the excitement I can handle, I don't need to look for it at home too."

Vin grinned. "But they sure keep things from getting dull around here, don't they?"

*******

They walked into their suite, still clutching hands tightly and Buck turned around and cupped Chris' chin gently, tipping his face towards the light so that he could examine the damage. Chris stood docile and compliant, allowing Buck to check him over.

"Hurts?" Buck asked softly.

Chris only shrugged.

"Wanna talk about it now?" Buck asked.

Chris shook his head. "I want you to make love to me," he murmured.

Buck smiled at him, sweet and loving, and Chris sighed in relief that he had been forgiven. Not that he should have doubted it. Buck never held a grudge. They walked into the bedroom and Chris began to undo the buttons of his lover's shirt, then slipped it off his broad shoulders while Buck kissed his face so tenderly and carefully, so full of feeling that Chris forgot the knot of fear tightening his stomach and let himself drift on the love he felt for this man.

Buck pulled back slightly and tugged off his jeans and Chris caught sight of the bandage on his arm and without conscious awareness he reached out to gently stroke over the material, transfixed by the rough texture, by the contrast of stark white against Buck's tanned skin.

He hadn't realized how long he'd stood there until Buck gently lifted his hand off the bandage. "It's just a scratch, Chris," Buck murmured.

Chris tried to raise a smile, unable to speak about it yet, needing to feel his lover's body pressing against him, warm and strong and alive. Buck knew instinctively what he wanted and positioned them on the bed face to face. He took his time, preparing the way with care, relaxing Chris with gentle touches and soft caresses, enveloping him in such a cocoon of love that Chris could almost believe that everything was all right. Only the brush of the bandage against his skin and the dull throb of pain along his cheekbone reminded him that they hadn't yet resolved things between them.

Buck poured all of himself into their lovemaking, focused his whole being on giving the most intense pleasure, and Chris knew it was a kind of apology that he accepted gladly. He was happy to suppress his fears beneath Buck's skillful handling, to banish the memory of the dark red blood dripping from Buck's wounded arm, to forget the shocked realization that his lover had placed himself in the way of danger and was not, as Chris had warned so recently, immune to injury.

When it was over and he'd climaxed, moaning out Buck's name, they remained in position for a while, Buck buried deeply inside him, the slick of Chris' semen spreading between their bellies. They traded soft kisses, Chris keeping up the assault when Buck would have pulled away, aware that he was avoiding the talk he knew they'd have to have. Only when Buck groaned a little did Chris remember his sore arm, and he cursed himself silently for forgetting about the discomfort his lover was in and eased Buck out of him, rolling them both so that they lay side by side.

Buck stroked gentle fingers over his face, regretful, repentant. "I want him out of there, Chris," he said quietly. "It isn't safe. I want to bring him here."

Chris twitched involuntarily and the stroking faltered for a moment.

"Buck you can't just pick some kid off the street and bring him home like he's a stray puppy. What about his family, his friends? Christ, what about his pimp?"

"He doesn't have family, well, none to speak of anyway, nobody who could be of any help to him. And the pimp.... It's not the same for JD as it was for me. He only owes the pimp if he works that asshole's turf. He'd be great for us, Chris. Real good for business."

Chris squirmed. "I don't know, Buck. It's a big step. The gang has come together really nicely with the other guys. I like things the way they are. I don't know anything about this kid. And I'm not sure you do either, not really."

Buck pulled back and looked at him and he dreaded to see the way Buck's face set into hard lines of resistance. "This is my business too isn't it?" Buck asked.

"Of course it is..." Chris began.

"And I agreed when you wanted Vin and Nathan in, even though I didn't know squat about them. I trusted you, had faith in your judgment."

"Buck that isn't fair," Chris protested. "I'm not questioning your judgment. But it isn't just you and me now. The others are a part of this, not just the business side, they're family and they should have a say."

"But you'll make the final decision," Buck pressed.

Chris nodded. "I run things around here. It's what we agreed to," he said firmly.

"Let me at least suggest it to them. Will you let me do that much? Will you save your decision until we hear what the others think?"

"Of course," Chris said. "You can talk to them at dinner tonight, they'll all be there."

Buck nodded and kissed him lightly on his bruised cheek and they tangled back up into each other's arms and soon Buck had relaxed into sleep. Chris held him close, too keyed up to close his eyes. As usual Buck was letting his heart dictate his actions and he hadn't thought this thing through properly. Chris just wasn't interested in taking in a seventh team member, especially one as young as this kid. Still, he'd wait and hear what the others had to say before giving Buck his final answer, even though he pretty much already knew what it was going to be.

*******

Buck wandered into the kitchen, feeling strangely nervous. He'd have preferred to know that Chris would back him on this, but his lover was playing this one close to the vest and for the first time in years Buck didn't know what Chris was thinking or where he stood.

He sat in his place and began to absently fill his plate with food, glancing up when Chris walked in and came over to brush a kiss against his cheek before taking his own place at the table. Chris smiled at him warmly, and he didn't know whether it was encouragement or reassurance he read in his lover's eyes, or whether Chris had already made his decision and was just preparing to let him down easy.

Buck more or less tuned out the conversation of the other men and concentrated on trying to find the right way to introduce the subject that was uppermost on his mind, but in the end there wasn't any way of saying this without being blunt so he cleared his throat, waited until the others looked at him expectantly and just blurted out, "I want to bring somebody else into the agency."

The others exchanged glances, then all looked curiously at Chris. When he didn't say anything Josiah ventured, "Who is it, Buck?"

"It's the kid I told y'all about. JD Dunne," Buck replied.

"A streeter," Ezra sniffed in disdain and Buck stiffened.

"Anything wrong with working the streets, Ezra?" he asked, his voice deceptively soft.

"Not in and of itself," Ezra continued, choosing his words carefully. "But if our clients wanted rough trade they wouldn't be paying us thousands of dollars for our services."

Buck glared across the table. "JD isn't rough trade," he defended. "He's a young kid who needs a break."

"And this is a business, not a charity," Ezra shot back.

Josiah put a hand on Ezra's arm and the man subsided. "Buck, I think what Ezra is trying to say is that the kid won't know how to act with our kind of client. It isn't what he's used to."

Buck scrubbed a hand through his hair and opened his mouth to reply, but Vin jumped in ahead of him. "He could learn. Most of the rest of us did. We weren't all born with a silver cock in our mouth."

The last comment was directed at Ezra, who waved him off, surprisingly unconcerned by the implication. "We have no idea if he has any aptitude to learn those things. You should know better than anybody that our business isn't just about fucking and cock sucking."

The others traded shocked glances. Ezra seldom reverted to crudeness, even when discussing the most base aspects of their business. He didn't acknowledge his friends' surprise but continued firmly. "He needs finesse, delicacy, he needs to be able to hold his own with the assholes who think they own him just because money has changed hands. He needs cunning, artfulness, he needs to understand that he can say no, and not many streeters have that ability, they're too used to being treated like meat. Being able to suck a cock is NOT a good enough recommendation."

Buck swallowed hard. This wasn't going well, but he was too honest not to look at this thing squarely. "Nathan, what do you think?" he asked.

Nathan shook his head. "I'm sorry Buck. You told us he's been living more or less rough, working the streets. There's no telling what he's been exposed to. Do you know how many kinds of disease he could have picked up? It's a rough life out there."

"Yeah, it's rough," Buck said softly. "I know a little something about that life."

He was startled when Chris reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing tightly. He looked into his lover's eyes, saw deep love and profound compassion, and knew Chris was remembering the same things he was. Another time, another place, another life. He tried to muster a smile, but he knew from the look of pity on Chris' face that he was failing miserably.

"Josiah?" Chris asked.

"I'd like to help the boy," Josiah said slowly. "But I don't know that bringing him into the agency would necessarily be the best way to help. For the reasons Nathan outlined, because of what Ezra pointed out. Sorry Buck, but we also have to consider that the kid is probably on drugs. Most of the street kids are."

"Ya blame 'em?" Vin asked quietly.

"It's not a question of blame, Vin," Josiah said steadily. "But we can't have a kid who's hooked on drugs, or booze or whatever it is he's using to get by. You know that, son."

Vin looked away, clearly frustrated and Chris said, "Say your piece, Vin. I want to hear what everybody thinks before I make a decision."

Vin was quiet for a minute, considering what he wanted to say.

"Don't know about the rest of ya, but I had to work the streets a spell. Wasn't a choice for me, don't suppose it is for this kid. He's what...19?" Buck nodded. "And he ain't stupid?"

Buck managed a smile. "Far from it."

"I figure he's young enough to learn anything we teach him. I'd like to give him a chance."

Buck looked around the table, waiting to see if anybody had anything else to say on the subject. When nobody spoke he turned towards his lover. "Chris?" he asked tentatively.

Chris looked over at him and Buck felt his heart clench and his stomach roll over. He knew, even before Chris opened his mouth, what his lover was going to say.

"I'm sorry. I know this kid means a lot to you. But there's too much that could be wrong. Drugs, disease, his attitude. I don't know if we'd be doing him any favors bringing him in. I'm willing to try to help him out. But I don't think a kid like that belongs here."

Buck knew the battle was lost, but he gave it one last shot anyway. "He's the same as me, Chris. Same life, same place I was headed if it hadn't been for you."

Chris leaned in close until his mouth was almost against Buck's ear.

"Not the same," he whispered harshly. "That bastard pimp of yours owned you, your ass belonged to him and he would have happily seen you destroyed without blinking an eye." He pulled back, continuing more loudly so that all the men could hear him. "I just don't see that it would work."

Buck nodded, dismayed but not really surprised by Chris' reaction.

"I don't agree with you, but if that's your decision I guess I'll live with it. Thanks, guys. Appreciate your input."

The rest of dinner was unusually quiet, the men subdued, lost in private thought and Buck was almost sorry that he'd dredged up bad memories for his friends. None of them had had it particularly easy, he certainly didn't corner the market on a crappy past. Each of them had parts of their lives they'd rather bury down deep and never have to look at again. So, despite the fact that he was despondent, he summoned up a smile, looked around at each of his colleagues and suggested, "Let's go to the Saloon and get shit-faced."

*******

Chris didn't know at first what had woken him, just that something was not quite right. When his mind cleared of its sleep-bound fog he knew immediately. Buck wasn't crowded up against him, covering him like an extra blanket the way they normally slept. He cocked an ear towards the bathroom, but it was quiet. Rolling onto his back he paused for a moment before going in search of his lover and admitted to himself something that had been nagging at him for days now.

Buck was deeply unhappy.

Everything about him screamed that he was miserable. Chris had noticed it first at the Saloon after he had refused to agree to the kid joining the team. Buck had spent the evening tossing back whiskey. Not getting pleasantly plastered like the rest of the men, but joylessly, purposefully, as though bent solely on obliteration.

Chris had been a little drunk and a whole lot horny when they'd rolled home, eager to bury himself in Buck's compliant body and maybe play for an hour or two with the rest of the guys. But Buck had paused at the door to the den, pulling his hand out of Chris'.

"What?" Chris asked, "You want just us?" He'd turned towards the stairs, more than willing to go up to their suite alone and cater to Buck's needs in private, but his lover had stopped him with a hand splayed against his chest.

"You go on. Hang out with the guys for a while."

"Come with me," Chris demanded, but Buck only shook his head.

"Not up for it right now, Chris. Not in the mood."

Chris wondered if he'd heard right. "You okay?" he asked.

Buck managed a small smile. "Just tired. Go on, now."

Chris had wanted to follow Buck upstairs, figure out what was going on, but something about the look in his lover's eyes persuaded him that the man wanted a little time by himself and wouldn't welcome company right now. So despite intuition screaming at him that something was seriously wrong, he'd walked into the den to join the others.

He'd tried to start a little friendly something with Josiah, had made it to the couch and was exchanging lazy kisses with the big man while hands began an exploratory journey over Josiah's body. But he was distracted and it just didn't feel right. Josiah was too experienced not to recognize a fake, especially one as half-hearted at Chris' had been. He'd pulled back, smiled a little ruefully and whispered, "Go find him." Chris had been too worried to be embarrassed although he did regret leaving his friend erect and aroused. His guilt was assuaged a little when he saw Vin move to the couch and straddle Josiah, although that erotic image did nothing to ease the arousal that was coursing through his own body.

He'd found Buck already in bed, lying on his back staring up at the ceiling and although his lover had opened his arms, had responded immediately and they had made love, there was something empty about the experience. Chris had come, desperately pumping deep into Buck's ass, but something had been missing; Buck's usual profound passion, his heartfelt joy, the intensity of emotion that was so fundamental to their union. They had cuddled together afterwards, Buck avoiding conversation, shrugging off Chris' attempt to draw him out and eventually falling into a twitchy, restless sleep.

That was three days ago, and since then Chris had scarcely seen his lover and when he did Buck was preoccupied and distant, refusing to tell him where he had been all day or what he was doing. Not that Chris needed to be told. He knew damned well that this was all about that kid.

Earlier in the day, when Buck had made a brief pit stop at home, Chris had cornered him in their suite, determined to reclaim a little of his lover's time and attention.

"Why don't you meet me at the Saloon after my date," Chris had suggested. "We can grab a beer, maybe take in a late movie?"

"Can't, Chris. I'm busy."

"Doing what?" Chris asked, irritably. "I know you're not working."

"Nothing you want to hear about," Buck replied honestly.

"It's that damn kid, isn't it?" Chris snapped and a sudden sickening thought flared. "Are you fucking him, Buck?" He instantly regretted the question when Buck turned an incredulous look on him.

"That what you think this is?" he asked. "Just somewhere else to put my dick?"

Chris shook his head vehemently. "No! Of course not." He really didn't believe that, didn't know where the stupid thought had come from. There was no way Buck would take advantage of anybody he had taken under his wing. "Can't he survive one night without you?" he asked, hoping he sounded less accusatory than he felt, and less petulant. But goddamnit the kid had made it this far without Buck Wilmington to hold his hand.

Buck scrubbed a hand through his hair, and Chris knew his lover was feeling stressed and that his carping was making it so much worse. Making a supreme effort he pushed down on his own needs and patted the couch next to him. Buck hesitated for a minute, probably expecting a lecture or an argument, but he dropped his tall frame onto the couch anyway.

Chris swung himself around and straddled his lover, startling him a little. "Tell me what you're up to," he demanded quietly.

Buck looked up into his eyes, weighing up how much he wanted to divulge, but in the end he just shook his head and unburdened himself. "I've got him in a motel. Took him off the streets a couple of days ago while I try to figure out what to do next. But it's hard, you know? The kid doesn't have any family he can turn to. His mama is dead, O.D'd a couple of years ago. He has a sister, but she sounds in worse shape than he is and she doesn't know he hustles. It's a fucking mess, Chris."

Chris resisted the urge to pull his lover in close, his desire to shield him from this ugliness almost overwhelming him. But Buck needed to talk about it so he just held onto his lover's hands and listened. "Now JD says he's going back to the streets. Says he won't take any more money from me, that he needs to get back to work and support himself."

Chris was secretly glad that the kid had come to this decision.

Maybe this JD Dunne wasn't trying to play Buck after all, unless this was a ploy to work on his lover's guilt. "It might be the best thing for him, Buck," he ventured.

"How can you say that?" Buck asked, amazed. "How could you, of all people, think that hooking on the street is the best thing for a kid. Did you think it was the best thing for me when I was 16? Fucking whoever I was told to, getting the shit beaten out of me on a regular basis..."

"You know better than that," Chris cut in sharply and Buck subsided, looking away for a moment, before turning back and saying more reasonably, "I want to offer him some real money. Enough to get him off the streets for a while, maybe get him out of Boston if he wants to go."

"It's your money, Buck..." Chris started.

"No. It's ours. It's always been ours. I don't want to do this without clearing it with you first."

Chris stroked a hand down his lover's cheek. "Take whatever you want."

Buck hugged him hard, burying his face against Chris' chest. "I need to go talk to him now, before he goes back out there. At least let him see he has a choice," he paused and raised his head, "You could come with me," he offered tentatively.

Chris managed to suppress a shudder of revulsion. He hated the streeters' turf with a passion. The place never failed to remind him of the awful days he and Buck had lived through as teens; of the poverty and pain, the fear and helplessness. It might be hundreds of miles and a dozen years away from Atlantic City where he and Buck had grown up, nonetheless the memories were too raw and the places too similar for him to feel anything but panic at the thought of stepping back onto those streets.

"I'm working tonight," he murmured, knowing it was a feeble excuse. "Go do what you have to do. I'll be waiting for you when you get back."

But he had waited in vain. Buck didn't show up when he expected him to, and didn't pick up his phone when Chris tried to call him. He eventually stormed in way past midnight, angry and frustrated because JD had refused all further help and told him to go back to his cosy life and leave him alone. Chris had tried to calm the man, but Buck had been inconsolable.

And now here they were, JD back on the streets, Buck torturing himself with guilt, reproaching himself for his inability to help the kid, depressed and unhappy. Suffering all the misery Chris had hoped to spare him, the demons from the old days riding him hard. He sighed and rolled out of bed.

Buck was unhappy. He had to do something.

He walked into the living room of their suite and paused for a moment in the doorway. Buck was silhouetted in the tall window, moonlight silvering his naked body. Chris walked quietly across the room and slipped his arms around his lover's waist, pressing his warm body against his lover's cold skin.

"Come back to bed," he murmured. "You're freezing."

"Am I? I didn't notice," Buck replied.

Chris squirmed around until he is standing in front of Buck, keeping his arms wrapped around the man and cuddling in close. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked.

"Nah. Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"Nightmare?" he asked softly, wondering if Buck would try to deny it. It wouldn't do him any good, Chris had seen this off and on for years and knew the signs too well.

Buck shrugged, and looked away, embarrassed.

"Thought they were behind you," Chris said.

"Thought so too," Buck breathed, shivering.

Chris pulled him closer and held on tighter, rubbing soothing circles into his lover's back. Sensing that Buck wasn't going to offer any information on his own he murmured, "It's the kid, isn't it?"

Buck stiffened in his arms, then blew out a long breath and relaxed.

"I can't help it, Chris," he mumbled. "I look at him and I remember how it was for me. Before you came along. The fear, the pain, not knowing if you'd be able to turn enough tricks to eat, not knowing if you'd sleep in a bed at night or have to find a doorway. Nobody to protect you..." he trailed off, and swallowed hard and Chris saw the unshed tears sparkling under his lashes.

"It means that much to you?"

"Yeah, Chris. It does."

"And you'll help him whether I allow it or not?" Chris asked, a grin tugging at his lips.

Buck ducked his head. "I'd rather you approved. But if you don't, I won't let that stop me."

Chris smiled. "You'd better go get him then."

Buck started, pulling back to look into Chris' eyes. "You really mean it?" he asked.

"If that's what it takes to put the smile back on your face," he said.

Buck let out a whoop of joy and his face broke into a huge grin. He gathered Chris up into a massive bear hug, practically lifting him off his feet. "Whoa, boy," Chris laughed, untangling himself and stepping back a pace or two. "There are gonna be a few ground rules, and you WILL obey me on these. We're just gonna talk to him first. Feel him out. Figure out if he's suitable for our kind of client and if he's even interested in joining us. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"And he's gonna have to be tested. A full medical, drug tests, the works. If he's hooked on anything he's out. Okay?"

Buck nodded. Chris continued, more gently this time. "And if he's sick, Buck, we'll help him out, we'll do everything we can for him, but we can't take him on. You know that, don't you?"

Buck swallowed hard, but he nodded his assent.

"And if all that works out, we'll give him a three month trial. But everybody has to agree to him staying, the whole team. Any dissention and he's out. Agreed?"

"Agreed. You won't regret this. You're gonna love him, Chris," Buck said, his good humor suddenly and completely restored.

Chris smiled softly. "I love you. I want what makes you happy. If that means helping this kid out, that's what we'll do. Now, can we go back to bed and get a little more sleep?"

Buck grabbed him up in a fierce hug again and held him, laughing. "Not sleep. I want to show you how much I love you."

"You could do that by letting me sleep," Chris teased. But they made love anyway, slow and tender, the emotion between them so intense it was palpable and when Buck fell asleep this time, crowded closely up against Chris, he slept deeply and sweetly.

*******

"I thought I told you to take a hike," JD groused as the BMW slid up to the curb and Buck waved at him.

"Aww don't be like that son," Buck grinned. "Get in."

JD considered refusing, after all, he'd made a vow just last night not to take any more of this man's money. But just as he was about to turn and walk away, he caught sight of the pimp across the square and his stomach did a nauseating roll. Damn it! Well he could hardly blow off his best "customer" in front of the fucking pimp, who'd beat the shit out of him if he knew. He'd just have to get Buck away from here, then tell the man to back the hell off and not come looking for him again. He still had some pride left, even if Buck Wilmington thought he'd sold that off a long time ago.

He got into the car, not saying anything more to Buck, figuring he'd wait until they got to the restaurant. But tonight Buck didn't point the car in the direction of the places they had been hanging out for the past weeks. Instead he pulled a U-turn and started to drive towards the waterfront. JD stiffened, despite the voice telling him that Buck would never hurt him. "Where we going?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"I'm taking you home. I have a proposition for you."

JD glanced over at his friend, a strange mixture of sensations running through him. He was elated that he would finally get what he'd wanted for weeks and end up in the sack with Buck. But a tiny part of him felt profoundly disappointed that after all Buck had turned out to be like every other trick. Sure, he'd bided his time, but in the end he wanted what they all did and sex was more important to him than friendship. Aww grow up, JD chided himself. A person didn't put out hundreds of dollars without expecting something in return. This was just payback and it was long overdue.

"Couldn't resist my charms, eh?" he asked, determined to make the best of the situation.

Buck looked over at him. "I'm taking you to meet Chris," he said, as though that was some kind of explanation.

JD was none to pleased that the chick was going to be there with them. But it was Buck's dime and if that's what he wanted JD would do his best to accommodate them both. He shrugged. "I can handle that."

They pulled up to a three story apartment building and JD suddenly felt tense and maybe just a little scared. He didn't like not knowing where he was. "What floor are you on?" he asked, looking around surreptitiously for potential escape routes.

"We own the whole building," Buck answered. "Chris and I live on the third floor, the rest of the gang have apartments on the second."

JD stiffened. "You didn't tell me anybody else was gonna be here," he said, unable to hide his nervousness. Yeah Buck had paid for him, yeah he owed the man a fortune, but there were some things he didn't do, no matter what the price.

"Don't think anybody else will be in tonight," Buck continued, "most likely all at work. You coming?"

Buck got out of the car and JD thought for one moment that maybe he should just run like hell. He didn't know the neighborhood, but it wouldn't take him long to get his bearings. But something about the way Buck stood, waiting for him patiently, and the fact that he really liked this guy and trusted him down deep, changed his mind. So instead JD climbed out of the car and followed Buck up the stairs and into the apartment building.

The place was huge. All the apartments on the bottom floor had been knocked out and there were now only a couple of closed doors at the front of the house, and at the back was an enormous kitchen and a kind of den with the biggest TV screen JD had ever seen.

Buck led him into the den and there was a blond haired man dressed all in black sprawled across the couch with a remote control in his hand surfing through the channels. The man switched off the TV and stood up when they walked in and JD hung back in the doorway while Buck walked forward. JD reckoned his mouth fell wide open when the blond reached out to Buck, hooked a hand around the back of his neck, and pulled him into a sweet kiss.

JD wasn't even aware that he had made a sound until he looked over to see that the men had broken their kiss and were staring at him, arms still wrapped loosely around each other.

"JD," Buck said, stepping away from the man. "This is Chris."

JD just stared. "You're shitting me, Wilmington," he finally managed. "This is the little woman?"

Chris quirked an eyebrow. "I see Buck told you all about me," he said dryly. "Chris Larabee." He stuck out his hand, and JD moved tentatively across the room and shook it.

"JD Dunne," he said, his voice wavering a little. Needless to say, this was not what he had expected.

"Sit down," Chris said, and the kid perched on the edge of a huge armchair, while Chris and Buck sat on the couch together. Chris took a hard look at the kid, and knew immediately why Buck had taken to him so strongly. He looked so much like Buck had when he'd first met the guy. Dark hair flopping down over his forehead, a curious mix of bravado and fear sparkling in his eyes, a little scrawnier than Buck had been, although he well remembered how much weight Buck had lost after his mother had been killed and how remarkably like this skinny little kid he had looked then. Trust his lover not to even make the connection. He probably still hadn't figured out why this kid, of all of the other streeters he had helped over the years, tugged so hard at his heartstrings.

"Buck tell you why you're here?" Chris asked.

JD licked his lips nervously and shook his head. "Guess he wants to cash in on the fuck I owe him. Guess you both do," he murmured.

Chris glanced over at Buck and raised an eyebrow in question and Buck just shrugged and looked away. Damn Wilmington! He hadn't told the kid anything. No wonder the boy was so nervous.

"Let's get one thing straight, kid," Chris said kindly. "This is strictly a business proposition. So first let's get your payment settled. What's your price?"

JD's head reared and his mouth set into a determined line. "I don't want any of your money, mister," he said quietly but firmly. "Your.. er, your boyfriend here has given me plenty over the past few weeks."

Chris held up his hand. "What went on between you two has nothing to do with this," he said, just as firmly. "If you decide to reject our offer you need to walk away from this with something in your pocket.

I'm paying you for your time so name your price."

JD frowned, but then he shrugged. "Well, there's two of you, so I'll have to charge a hundred..." his eyes followed Buck's hands as they pulled out his wallet and flipped it open. No debate, no haggling, he just reached in and fingered a number of bills and JD's eyes narrowed in calculation and he added,. "...and fifty. A hundred and fifty."

Buck grinned and pulled out the cash, laying it on the coffee table.

"And if we want you to stay the night?" Chris asked.

This time there was no hesitation. "Two hundred and fifty. Cash. Up front."

Chris' mouth quirked up into a smile and Buck laughed out loud before pulling out another hundred dollar bill and placing it on the table.

JD didn't pick up the cash, he just eyed them warily and asked, "What do you want me to do, mister?"

"You can start by calling me Chris," he said. "Where did you sleep last night, kid? Buck said you refused to go back to the motel with him."

"I found me a place all right," JD said, a little defensively.

Chris took a long, hard look at the boy--hair unwashed, clothes rumpled and stained--and concluded that he had slept rough. "Let's get you washed up," he suggested. "I'll grab you some clean clothes and Buck will show you where you'll sleep tonight and where you can take a shower. Sound okay?"

JD nodded, wide-eyed with surprise. "You hungry?" Chris asked, and the boy nodded again. "Right, you go take your shower. We'll rustle up some food. Hope you like left-over Chinese."

They settled JD into one of the spare apartments, leaving him towels and some clean sweatpants and one of Chris' old sweatshirts, instructing him to join them in the kitchen when he was ready.

Chris began to pull out food containers and load up the microwave while Buck chatted happily beside him. "So, what do you think? Cute, ain't he?"

"Hold up, stud," Chris admonished. "Not so fast. We've got a whole hell of a long way to go before either of us knows if this is gonna work," he said sternly.

"I know, I know," Buck placated. "Just... be gentle. Don't go all 'Larabee' on the him. He's just a kid."

Chris quirked an eyebrow. "All I'm gonna do for now is get a feel for him, see if he has any interest in what we do. You obviously haven't told him shit. You didn't tell him about me, he clearly doesn't know what you do for a living. In fact, now that I think of it, I should be going 'Larabee' on your sorry ass," he huffed.

Buck smiled slow and sweet and sidled up close, engulfing him in an embrace. "You can go 'Larabee' on my ass anytime you want, darlin'," he whispered seductively, and wasn't it just like Buck to turn a threat into foreplay. Chris laughed despite himself and squirmed out of his lover's arms.

"Go and set some places, make yourself useful for a change."

Buck gave him a sloppy kiss and turned away. Chris opened the refrigerator door. "You think he'll want Coke or a beer? Jesus, he doesn't even look old enough to drink."

Buck shrugged. "Reckon he only drank Coke when we were out. Grab me one too."

Chris pulled out three bottles of Coke and popped the caps, setting them on the table, almost dropping them when Buck crowded up behind him and slipped his arms around Chris' waist, nuzzling a kiss to the back of his neck. "Can't wait to get you upstairs, tonight," Buck whispered against his ear, sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. "Gonna work you 'til you're begging for me and screaming out my name."

Chris turned, still in the embrace, and smiled up at his lover.

"What if it ain't your name I scream?" he teased.

Buck laughed in delight and slid his hands down to cup Chris' ass, squeezing rhythmically. "Believe me, when I've got you where I want you, you'll be lucky to remember your own name," Buck promised and it wasn't hard for Chris to believe it. He tipped his head and captured Buck's lips and soon he was lost in the warm, familiar taste of Buck's mouth and in the clean, fragrant skin so smooth under his fingers.

He didn't realize that JD had walked into the kitchen until he heard the kid clear his throat.

He pulled away from Buck and turned toward the kid, standing in the doorway, hair dripping, Chris' too-baggy sweats hanging off his skinny frame. He looked all of 16 years old and Chris couldn't help asking, "How old are you, kid?"

JD frowned "Jeez, what is it with you old guys and the age thing? I'm 19 for Chrissakes." He eyed them both nervously, his gaze travelling from one to the other, then he licked his lips. "Which of you should I do first?" his voice wavered slightly. He had a determined look on his face that did little to disguise the fact that he was nervous, maybe even a little scared.

Chris looked at JD closely. Now that he was cleaned up he could see how exhausted the kid looked, dark circles under his expressive eyes, the skin drawn tightly around his mouth. And he was shivering too, which might have been the cool air on his wet skin, and might equally have been fatigue or hunger or fear. Chris figured it was high time they put the kid's mind at ease. "We don't want sex, JD," he said as gently as he could.

But instead of reassuring the boy it seemed to spook him even more. JD backed up nervously. "Look, guys. I offer straight sex. I can blow both of you, or you can fuck me if you want. But I don't do kinky."

Great. Way to make him feel better, Larabee, Chris chided himself. He glanced over at Buck, hoping his lover would be able to explain things more simply. Buck stepped forward, pausing when JD stiffened as though preparing to take off.

"Hey, kid," Buck said, "I ever ask you to do anything you didn't want? What makes you think I'll start now? Come sit down, eat. We just want to talk, okay?"

JD took a deep breath and nodded, then crossed the room to the table, sitting down only when Chris and Buck took their seats. He waited too, until they had both taken food before piling his own plate high. Chris noticed that he didn't eat anything, only pushed the food around the plate until both he and Buck had started to eat and even then he continued to glance furtively at them watching practically every forkful they put into their mouths. When Chris pushed a piece of ginger beef off to the side of his plate, JD did the same. Chris looked up, catching Buck's eye and he could tell that his partner had noticed the odd behavior too, although he didn't look puzzled by it.

Buck cleared his throat. "How's the food, JD?" he asked.

The boy looked over at him. "Good."

"You prefer a beer instead of the Coke?" Buck asked, looking at the kid pointedly. JD ducked his head. He hadn't touched the drink so far.

Buck stood up suddenly, reached down and grabbed JD by the hand, pulling the startled boy to the refrigerator and opening the door. "Here, son. Take your pick."

JD paused for a moment, then reached in and pulled out a new, unopened bottle. "Thanks," he mumbled, sitting back down at the table. Buck pushed the bottle opener across the table to him.

"When did it happen?" he asked gently.

JD stared hard at his plate and for a minute Chris didn't think he would answer the question. Then he raised his head, glanced at both of them and murmured reluctantly, "A couple of months ago."

"Roofies? In your coke?" Buck hazarded.

JD shrugged. "In the drink or in the food. Not sure which," he looked away from Buck's sympathetic gaze.

"How many were there?" Buck pressed.

"Three or four. Don't rightly know."

"They hurt you?" Buck continued tightly, and Chris could hear the attempt to maintain control even though he was obviously furious.

"It was a fucking gang bang, Buck. What do you think?" JD snapped, his head suddenly rearing and color flooding his cheeks. "You wanna hear all about it? Is that what this is about? Is that what gets you off?"

"Easy, son," Buck soothed, reaching out a hand, but JD shook him off.

"What the hell do you know about it?" JD fumed. "Living in this fancy house, with your flashy clothes and your car and your money. What do you know about the things you have to do to survive on the streets?"

JD stood up suddenly, sending his chair crashing to the floor.

Chris opened his mouth to speak, but Buck gestured to him and he subsided.

"I'm a prostitute, JD. Same as you," Buck said calmly and Chris saw the kid recoil violently, was a little surprised himself at how blunt Buck had been.

JD stood motionless, staring at Buck open-mouthed in astonishment. "Bullshit!" he finally managed to squeak out. "Look at you, look at this place, I've seen the car you drive, the money you flash around. Ain't no hustler ever made that kind of cash just from tricking."

Buck just shrugged.

JD turned a blazing look on Chris. "That true? Your boyfriend is a whore?"

Chris winced; it wasn't his favorite word. "He's a professional escort..." he began.

Buck laughed. "Best call a spade a spade. I'm a whore, darlin', take away the fancy words and what you get is a guy who fucks for money."

Chris frowned over at him, then sighed. Buck was right. Better to keep things simple until JD understood what they were asking of him.

JD continued to stare, practically burning a hole in him so intense was his gaze. "You his pimp?" the kid sneered and Buck laughed out loud and looked over at him, amused, as though he too was interested in hearing the answer.

Chris cursed silently. Damn the man for not telling the kid a goddamned thing. He shot Buck a black look, although it only seemed to make his grin grow wider. "We run an escort service. Me and Buck, and four other colleagues you'll meet later if you want. No street work, no rough stuff. I control the client list, coordinate the schedules, run the business side of things. Buck thought you might be interested in joining us."

He paused, waiting for the kid to take all of that in. JD looked from Chris to Buck. "I don't understand," he said.

Buck glanced at Chris, who nodded to him to continue. "We want you to come work with us. Chris will pick your clients and organize your schedule. You take on who you want, refuse who you don't. The agency gets a fee for your services, you get paid a salary based on profits and you get to keep all the tips you make. It's high class stuff, JD. No more drunks or space-cadets, nobody gets to lay a finger on you outside what you agree to do for them."

Buck moved quickly to right JD's chair when the kid made a move to sit back down. "Sounds too good to be true. What's the catch?" JD asked suspiciously.

"You have to put up with Chris nagging at you," Buck suggested, slyly.

"You have to put up with his lame jokes," Chris countered.

"Honest, kid, it's exactly how it sounds. Don't get me wrong. Our clients can be a pain in the ass too, but not in the same way as the street tricks. And if any of them try to take advantage or get ugly, we drop 'em so fast they don't even know what hit 'em."

Chris could see that JD was a little overwhelmed, but he needed to make a couple of things crystal clear. "If you're interested we need to check a few things first. You're gonna have to have a complete medical, and if you decide to work with us you'll have to have them on a regular basis, we all do. We'll talk about what happens next once we get the results back. That okay with you?"

JD nodded.

"You using, kid?" Buck asked, and again Chris was surprised at how forthright Buck was being. But he guessed that his lover knew JD better than he did and knew how to handle him.

"No I am not using," the kid said firmly. "You think I'd put that shit into my body after it killed my ma?"

Buck shrugged. "Lot of streeters do, son. We'll test you for drugs too, best come clean now."

"I am clean, that's what I'm trying to tell you," JD huffed.

Buck smiled. "One more thing. You don't have to if you don't want to, but the other guys live in the building. Everybody has their own apartment, well, Chris and I share, but the others have their own space. There's room here for you too, if you want."

JD looked away and a blush rose over his pale skin, making his dark hair and eyes stand out. "Don't have the money for rent," he said, obviously embarrassed.

"You don't pay rent, JD," Chris said softly. "Part of the fee you bring in for the business takes care of that. I'll show you the breakdown if you want. What we pay in mortgage, what we pay our staff, our stock portfolio. If this works out you'll share in the profits of the place just like all the guys. We'll set you up with a bank account, a medical plan, insurance. It'll be just like a regular job."

"I don't get it. Why me?" JD asked.

Because my lover has developed a soft spot for you, Chris thought, but didn't articulate.

"Hell, boy," Buck said, slapping the kid on the back. "Look at you. Cute as a button, innocent as hell, you look like butter wouldn't melt in your mouth. You're gonna be a gold mine and make us all rich."

JD snorted. "Doesn't look like you've been doing so badly without me," he deadpanned.

Chris grinned. "Tell you what kid. Why don't you hang out with us for the night. Sleep on it. You can meet the rest of the gang later, then you can make a decision and we'll talk about where we go from here. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good," JD said nodding. He picked up his fork and attacked his food, this time with a whole lot more enthusiasm and when he'd finished what was on his plate, he looked around the table and asked, "You two gonna finish that?"

Chris and Buck exchanged amused looks, and before they could reply, JD had scooped up their dishes and tipped the contents onto his own plate, and proceeded to shovel food into his mouth with great pleasure.

This might work, Chris thought, watching the kid relax and begin to enjoy himself. This just might work.

JD woke with a start, sitting up suddenly, totally disoriented.

There was sunshine flooding the room and the clock on the bedside table told him it was already 10:35. Shit! He'd slept like a log. He needed to haul ass if he was going to meet Buck downstairs for breakfast as he'd promised last night.

He rolled out of bed and pulled on the sweats Chris had lent him last night. No time for a shower now, he'd take one later. He stood up but paused before leaving the room. God the apartment was fantastic and Buck had told him it would be his if he decided to stay with them. It was bigger than any place he'd ever lived before, including the apartment he had shared with his ma and his sister when he was growing up. This place had a huge bedroom, a bathroom bigger than he'd ever seen before, a living room, a little kitchenette, even a balcony that looked over the quiet street below. Buck told him they'd get him his own things for the place to make it more his own but he couldn't think of anything else he might want that wasn't already here. It even had a half way decent stereo system and two TV's.

The whole setup was amazing. The building, the kind of work the guys did - he'd asked Chris and Buck a few more questions last night after they had finished eating and had moved off to the den. Buck and Chris had sat together on the couch and he had settled on the floor in front of the TV. They'd thrown a movie into the DVD machine and JD had kept half an eye on the film while keeping a watch on the two men. It hadn't taken them long to get more comfortable, Buck sprawling out on the couch and pulling Chris down with him, and when he'd glanced over at them about half way through the film, they had been in a passionate clinch, half sucking the faces off each other.

Once he was absolutely sure they didn't expect anything from him, he'd managed to relax and had enjoyed the peaceful evening. Just before midnight the door to the den slid open and two men walked in. Buck introduced them as Ezra and Nathan, two of the members of the team. They had seemed nice enough. A little reserved, maybe, and they sure asked him a shitload of questions until Buck told them to give him a break and let him alone. He'd been polite to them both, and hadn't felt any weird vibes off either of them, although he'd thought that Ezra was a bit of an odd one, the way he talked so that JD hadn't been so sure he'd understood everything the man said. Luckily the others had translated for him, as if he was speaking a foreign language. It had been funny, really.

JD walked out of the bedroom and made his way to the huge kitchen on the ground floor. He paused in the doorway. There were two other men in the room with Buck, who waved him in as soon as he caught sight of him.

"JD, this is Josiah and Vin. Guys, this is JD Dunne."

JD shook the hands that were offered, and he was heartened to see that Vin couldn't be more than a few years older than him.

"Breakfast son?" Josiah asked, and JD nodded and sat down at the kitchen table. Before long Josiah had put a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him and was pouring him a large mug of coffee. Vin and Buck picked up the conversation they had been having before JD arrived, something about one of the clients. JD was just getting interested when Chris walked in, crossing the room to drop a kiss on Buck's cheek, gently touching both Vin and Josiah as he passed them.

He waved off Josiah's offer of breakfast with a quick thanks and pulled up a chair close to Buck. JD noted how Buck's arm seemed to move automatically to drape across the back of Chris' chair, and how the blond moved, equally unconsciously it seemed, to tuck himself in close to his lover.

"So, JD. You give our proposition some more thought?" Buck asked, stroking a hand through Chris' short hair.

JD nodded. "It sounds good," he said carefully.

"Too good to be true?" Josiah asked, his rich, deep voice sounding amused.

"Something like that," JD agreed honestly.

"Reckon you need a second opinion?" Vin asked perceptively.

JD flashed him a grateful look that Chris obviously understood. He turned his head to whisper something into Buck's ear, and the other man smiled sweet and soft and stood up, threading fingers through Chris' and holding hands.

"We're gonna leave you guys to get acquainted. JD, the boys here will show you the rest of the house. I'll catch up with you in about an hour..."

He paused when Chris leaned in and whispered into his ear again. Buck grinned. "Make that two hours."

Vin and Josiah laughed out loud and even JD found a smile.

"Ask them anything you want, kid," Buck encouraged. "They'll give you the real deal."

As soon as they left, JD turned to the two other men. "Okay. They've gone. Give me the real deal. Chris is the pimp, right?"

"Chris runs the business, son," Josiah replied "But he works too."

"He turns tricks?" JD asked, incredulous.

"He has his own clients, yes."

"And do I have to keep him happy if I get a job here? He's the one I have to fuck, right?"

Josiah chuckled and shook his head. "I only wish that were true, then maybe we'd all get a fair crack at the man. No, it isn't like that, JD. Chris would never ask you to put out for him."

JD glanced at the big man wondering if he could really be that naive. "Josiah, right?" he said. "No offense man, but that's what they all say. And next thing you know you're on your knees with their cock half way down your throat. There's always somebody you have to screw. So, if not him, I guess it's his boyfriend. That why he sent Buck out to recruit me?"

Vin laughed. "You should be so lucky. Buck has taken a shine to you kid. It's why you're here, why Chris has offered you a place in the business..."

JD felt a thrill run through him and Vin looked at him shrewdly, seeing something he'd hoped he could hide.

"You need to know something, JD," Vin said softly. "Chris is the possessive type. Outside of business, he ain't so fond of sharin' what's his. And believe me, kid, Buck is definitely his."

"Buck doesn't look like anybody's bitch to me," JD challenged.

Vin and Josiah exchanged glances. "A word to the wise, son," Josiah intoned. "Don't go setting your sights there. Buck is a great guy and a really good friend. But that's all it will ever be. Those two have been together for 15 years, they've survived a whole world of shit. They've got a history almost as old you. You don't want to think about messing with that."

"Besides," Vin said, a grin quirking his mouth, "You've got a lot better chance of throwing your leg over old Bucklin if Chris considers you a friend and accepts you as a colleague. And that, kid, is well worth the price of admission."

JD felt a surprising painful jolt of disappointment. Buck would never be more than a friend. But maybe that was okay. Buck had already been a fantastic friend to him, the best he'd ever had. Maybe if that was the best he could hope for, he'd grab it with both hands. And looking around the kitchen, remembering the apartment that could be his, seeing the easy camaraderie between the men, acknowledging that he liked what he'd seen of Chris, JD thought that joining this team might just be the best thing that would ever happen to him.

Vin smiled at him, seeming to read his thoughts. "So, you're with us?" he asked.

JD paused for a moment "Yeah, man. I'm in," he said, grinning at the two men, his new colleagues. Hell, even if they were lying, Buck had always been good to him and these seemed like nice guys. Even if it wasn't like everybody laid it out, it was still so much better than anything he'd had before.

"Well welcome aboard, son," Josiah smiled, slapping him on the back.

"At last, somebody younger than me," Vin crowed. "Buck will be happy as hell. Let's go tell him."

JD's head reared. "Won't he be... won't he and Chris be..."

"Fucking like rabbits?" Vin supplied. "Yeah, probably. But they won't mind. Get used to it, kid. This is a pretty active household that way. And those two are Olympic gold medallists. Think you can handle it?"

JD laughed. "What are we waiting for?"

He was a little shocked to find that Vin hadn't been joking, that Chris and Buck were definitely in the middle of a world class fuck when they walked into the bedroom. The two men untangled themselves and tucked a sheet around their bodies, but they stayed wrapped up in each other's arms while JD broke his news. And even though he knew that Chris was stroking Buck's prominent erection under the sheet, he was nonetheless pretty sure that his news was at least partly responsible for the happy grin that spread across Buck's face.

The End
Continues in: JD's Story: Settling In