Rowan '04: Only For Me

Buck awoke to the sound of singing. Even before he registered who was singing, he rolled over in the huge bed and reached out for his partner, his bedfellow, his better half. But since it was said better half singing - he found no one. Rolling back he relaxed into the luxurious white percale bedding and glanced over at the alarm. It was nearly one, and since sunlight streamed in past the heavy drapes, it was afternoon. That meant he had slept for almost fourteen hours, he hadn't realised he was that tired. Buck had been on stake-out the night before when their mark had suddenly made a move. There was little he or Josiah could do but follow. When the man finally arrived at his destination they realised they had hit the mother-load of illicit explosives. From then on it was a long day of rapid planning, preparations, and once the take down was accomplished, making the stash of dynamite safe, processing the suspects and writing reports. They were all tired, but Buck and Josiah, who had been up all night, were shattered.

Disappointed that Ezra wasn't in bed with him, Buck pulled himself out of the warm cocoon of cotton and headed for the bathroom. Some fifteen minutes later, showered, shaved and with clean teeth and an empty bladder, Buck pulled on some boxers and padded down the long passageway toward the sound of the singing. The apartment took up all the first floor of an eighty year old townhouse in one of the oldest, and now most exclusive, parts of Denver. The master bedroom was at the back, then there was the guestroom, the kitchen, dining room and great room. Following the sound of his lover's melodic voice he found him in the dining room.

There he stood, back to Buck, unaware of his presence. Only at home, only with Buck would he let his guard down enough to allow anyone - except maybe Vin - to creep up on him. Only at home with Buck would the fastidious and, by his own admission, vain man, be seen in nothing but an old pair of sweats and a muscle shirt. That admission of vanity was another thing that was only for Buck's ears. So focused on his lover was Buck, that his was the only voice he heard, he hadn't even registered that Frank Sinatra was on the CD player. Ezra sang along, hips swaying as he moved the iron over the board. Buck folded his arms, and leant against the doorframe and admired the view.

It took him a while to work out what Ezra was ironing, after all their shirts, bed linen, and suits - well Ezra's suits and Buck's jackets - were collected cleaned and returned, door to door, by a domestic servicing company. Even Ezra didn't iron underwear, and neither of them wore nightclothes. He craned his head to one side to get a better look, only to recognise his own old, faded, check shirt. Who would have believed it? Ezra P Standish doing someone else's ironing!

For me, he's doing it for me, Buck thought, and his heart, already full of love for Ezra, was filled afresh with that love and all the warm, safe, wonderful feelings that came with it. Only he calls me 'beloved', only for me does he let go, only I see the real Ezra. Buck's head was filled with a vision of the wild, abandoned Ezra. The Ezra who was openly wanton, who wanted sex whenever he could get it, who threw himself open and all but demanded that Buck took him. That Ezra was only for him, that was the Ezra only he ever saw. And just as it was true only he saw Ezra the sexual animal, only Buck saw the vulnerable Ezra, the Ezra who wanted - needed - to be taken care of, who wanted someone else to take control so he didn't have to. Ezra needed things to be in control, he couldn't bear chaos, too much of his childhood was chaotic, always moving, always being cared for by different people, always having to call a new man 'father'. To redress this, the adult Ezra had taken control of every aspect of his life. But controlling your life is hard work, it made it hard to relax. Only with Buck did Ezra freely give up that control, only with him did Ezra feel safe enough to surrender his body and soul to another.

It was an awesome responsibility, to hold someone's deepest secrets, to be the keeper of their soul. He was aware, sometimes painfully aware, of how much courage it had taken for Ezra to open up that much, to surrender to Buck what he had held so close, so long. Buck was a natural mother hen, and he knew it. He had embraced the Larabee family as his own, and grieved when they were taken. He had thrown himself whole-heartedly into the task of stopping Chris from self destructing and he had actively sought out the job of mentor and big brother to JD. But all of this was just a shadow of his true destiny, a rehearsal, for this, his - self appointed - task to look after one Ezra P Standish. Because Ezra had given him so much, he had to give in equal measure. Ezra had opened himself up and that made him vulnerable, so Buck would protect him. He wasn't going to follow him around with a loaded gun or stop him doing his job; but no one was going to hurt his lover - physically or emotionally - not while Buck Wilmington still had breath in his body, not if he could stop it, and that 'no-one' included Maude.

Frank was singing 'High Hopes' as Ezra finished the shirt with a flourish and picked up a hanger.

"'Cause he's got high hopes, he's got high hopes…" He spun around to find Buck watching him, leaning on the doorframe, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Ezra froze, the shirt swinging on its hanger balanced on his finger.

"Hello," he greeted, slinking toward Buck.

"Morning babe." Buck might be Ezra's 'beloved' but to Buck, Ezra was always 'babe' it wasn't that he thought of Ezra as a baby, it was just a term of endearment that seemed to fit his partner. A tiny little proof, everyday, that Ezra was so much more to him than a friend.

"How are you feeling? Well rested?"

Buck stretched out an arm and pulled Ezra to him, tilting his head back and claiming his mouth for a long, slow kiss, until, finally in need of air, he pulled back.

"Mmm, better than I did, but mostly hungry," he admitted.

"Well." Ezra dropped the shirt he had just spent ten minutes working on, and used both hands to explore and caress Buck's naked skin. "I can think of something you could eat, high protein, easy to digest, and you won't find a fresher meal anywhere."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, I personally guarantee it, and it is always freely available, never goes out of date."

"Well in that case I could be persuaded to try this delicacy."

Ezra, giving him a lecherous grin, took his hand and headed determinedly toward the bedroom.

End Sheena Easton, "For Your Eyes Only."

For your eyes only
Can see me through the night
For your eyes only
I never need to hide
You can see so much in me
So much in me that's new
I never felt until I looked at you
For your eyes only, only for you
You see what no one else can see
And no one breaking free
For your eyes only, only for you

But love, I know you needed me
The fantasy you freed in my
Only for you, only for you
For your eyes only
The nights are never cold
You really know me
That's all need to know
Maybe I'm an open book
Because I know you're mine
But you won't need to read
Between the lines

For your eyes only, only for you
You see what no one else can see
No one breaking free
For your eyes only, only for you
The passions that collide in me
Wild abandon side of me
Only for you, for your eyes only