Vin stood with his forehead against the cool safety glass. It wasn't helping. His fingers continued to toy with the cell phone attached to his belt. He'd been playing with it for what seemed like hours now, wanting to call, but trying to fight the urge, the need, the habit. When had it become a habit? Calling, expecting, hoping the person on the other end of the line would pick up and make everything right again? It used to be he didn't need anyone, and when he didn't have anyone that had been a good thing, but when he had had someone ... had that not needing them -- not wanting to need them -- been the first step down the road to a break up? Vin didn't know; he didn't know anything anymore, or so it seemed.

The cell phone came to his ear and he heard the ringing, but he couldn't recall dialing a number. Then he heard the line answered and his mouth spoke, though he was sure he didn't know what to say. "Make me come."

"Vin? Are you okay?"

"I ... never mind."

"No, no. I'm just finishing up here. Are you still at the range?"

"Yeah."

"All right. Don't do anything. Don't go anywhere. I'll be right there."

"Okay," Vin replied, and then ended the call.

Chris had sounded concerned. It surprised Vin that Chris hadn't been annoyed by the interruption. Not that it mattered. What mattered was that Chris was on his way over; it would only be a few minutes, if Chris left right away and wasn't delayed by anyone on his way out of the main building. A few minutes to walk across the compound, use the key he wasn't supposed to have, and then Chris would be here.

He turned out the lights in the hallway and then made his way to his office to wait. The place was deserted; it was now after hours and everything was locked down. Technically, Vin shouldn't even be here, but this place was his responsibility, one he took seriously, even if it was several steps down the ladder from his previous position on the ATF's most prominent team and one of the best sharpshooters outside of Quantico itself.

"I'm not gay," he'd declared, lying. Vin had only been at the government training facility for two weeks before this had come up. He hadn't imagined that it would be like this, though his experiences in the army should have been fair warning that this sort of thing happened everywhere.

"No one at Quantico is ... well, except some of the women," his instructor Tom Croft had said. "But that doesn't mean that you're not going to have to kiss some ass and suck some dick to get out of here."

Chris Larabee had wanted him on his new ATF team, but Vin wasn't a government agent. He'd been a freelance bounty hunter when they'd met by pure accident several weeks ago in Denver. If Vin was going to work for the ATF, then he needed to go through the basic training at Quantico, just like everyone else on the team had.

"So, come on, Tanner, down on your knees and start sucking some dick," Croft had ordered.

"No."

"What? What did you just say to me?"

"No. Sir." Vin had stood his ground. He didn't want this job that badly. Hell, he barely knew Chris Larabee and he sure as hell didn't care all that much about working for the government again. Being a bounty hunter wasn't all that bad, he reasoned. No one to back you up, granted, but no one to get in your way, either. And no one forcing you to suck them off. Then again, something about Chris Larabee had gotten him to accept the job offer in the first place.

"If you want to graduate from here, Tanner, then I suggest you do as I say."

"I could bring you up on sexual harassment charges, sir," Vin countered, though he knew that men like Croft had ways around the system. He wasn't that naive; not anymore.

"But you won't, not unless you want your AFT career to be the shortest one in Quantico history." Croft had sounded confident, but not so much so that Vin doubted his words. "I may only be an instructor at the moment, but I do know some very influential people both here and in Washington; you, on the other hand, are just another anonymous recruit with disappointing results on your class work so far." This made Vin wonder if Croft did this sort of thing often, or if he was very careful in the selection of his prey. "So, you have to ask yourself: how badly do you want to be an agent? What's it worth to you? Because if you're not willing to do whatever it takes, then I suggest you simply pack your duffel right now and walk on out of here -- save us all a lot of trouble. So, what's it going to be?"

Vin didn't know. All reason told him to just pack it in, give it up, right here and right now. It wasn't worth it. But, something in his gut told him different, told him to stick it out. He wanted to trust his gut, but he couldn't say that it had never steered him wrong.

"Tell you what, Tanner; I'm a nice guy who's just trying to find out if you've got what it takes. So, I'm going to give you a break. I'm going to give you some time to think about this. Think hard, Tanner. Weigh all your options.

If you do as I say -- if you follow my lead -- I'll make you into an amazing agent. But I can guarantee if you go against me -- if you stick with Larabee, A.D. Travis’s personal bitch -- you'll wind up in a pretty government-issued casket, or worse, in some dead-end, mindless job, just wasting away."

Vin spent the rest of the week and the weekend thinking about what Croft had told him. He'd even called Larabee, though he'd failed to mention the details of his conversation with Croft. All Vin really wanted out of Larabee was a sense of the man, to recapture what he'd felt that day they'd met, in a dusty alley, saving a stranger named Nathan Jackson, an agent already assigned to Larabee's new team. Vin'd had a feeling about Larabee that day, something stronger than anything he'd ever felt, more powerful than anything his mind could reason out and more concrete than any mere gut feeling could be.

And he'd known the truth of it when he'd spoken to Larabee on the phone, despite the thousands of miles that separated them. It was enough to convince Vin to stick with the program, to finish out the ATF training and return as an agent to Larabee's team in Colorado, no matter what it took.

"Vin?" It was Chris's voice Vin now heard. Here, after hours at the ATF Shooting Range, the place to which Tanner had been banished after the death of Orin Travis and the subsequent dismantling of the team Chris Larabee had hand chosen and headed.

Vin didn't answer Chris. He knew Chris would find him. He knew Chris knew where he was: sitting in his dark office, alone, his hand down his pants, waiting.

"Vin? Why are you in the dark?" Chris asked quietly as he stood in the office doorway. "Where the hell's that light switch?"

"Leave it. I like it like this."

"Dark?"

"Yeah."

Chris said nothing more, but Vin wondered if the man was nodding, not in understanding but simply in acceptance of what Vin had said. Vin stood and met Chris somewhere in the middle of the small room. His hands came up to tangle in the man's neatly combed hair as he crushed their lips together. God, he needed this. He hated that he needed this, but he needed it just the same, knew he'd die without it, knew that without it there was nothing to live for. This was all he had in the world, this man and this man's love.

Chris's arms came around his waist and pulled him into a tight, secure embrace. The contact roused so many feeling in Vin, causing tears to well in his eyes. But he fought them off by pulling back and repeating what he'd said earlier. "Make me come."

"I'm here, Vin. Anything you want."

"Make me come, Chris."

Vin felt Chris slide slowly down his body until he must have been on his knees. Hands began to work free Vin's belt, followed by the buttons on his jeans. Slowly the loose denim slid from his hips and down his legs, to pool around his ankles. He felt a warm, callused hand encircle his dick and another slip underneath to cup his balls. Then warm, moist heat engulfed his firm length, causing Vin's knees to nearly buckle beneath him. Soon he felt the need to thrust, but Chris's hands on his hips prevented it, which caused Vin nothing except frustration, and for a moment, Vin felt like striking out, hitting something -- not Chris, but to hurt himself -- to dissipate the feelings.

Instead, he pulled away from Chris and hauled the man to his feet. Then, Vin reached out and undid Chris's trousers, sliding the fine material as well as the boxers beneath down his legs, and then he forced Chris to turn around and bent him over the desk. He knew this wasn't Chris's favorite position; he knew that Chris had never gotten comfortable being topped, but it was what Vin wanted -- needed -- and he'd do it this way, unless Chris stopped him.

But they were at work, so he had none of the usual products with which to ease the entry and Vin knew that Chris needed a lot more lubrication than he did. He groped around the desk for something, anything, and then remembered what he had in his desk. He reached over, pulled the drawer open and fished around inside until his fingers came upon the small, plastic bottle. He brought it up, flipped open the top and poured a generous amount first on his fingers and then between Chris's cheeks.

"What is that?"

"Gun oil." He knew Chris would protest. Though it was synthetic, it probably wasn't the best stuff in the world to be sticking in someone. "It's all I have." He felt Chris's body move and knew the man was nodding consent. It wouldn't be the first time they'd used something questionable, though it was usually Vin getting fucked, so it seemed to matter less, at least to Vin.

He smeared the thin oil over himself and then began to work it over Chris's hole, pushing inside and preparing the man as best he could, for as long as his thinly worn patience would allow. Vin didn't want to hurt Chris, but he needed this and he needed it two hours ago, needed it as soon as Tom Croft had entered his life again after all these years.

"So, have you decided, Tanner? Are you going to stick this out? Do whatever needs to be done?"

"Yeah, Croft. I'm doing this," Vin told his instructor. "Ain't no one gonna stop me, not even you. Sir."

"Then I suggest you get some dirt on those knees of yours, Tanner. I can't hold up submitting my progress report for much longer."

Vin had crumbled to his knees. It wasn't the first time he'd been with someone not of his choosing and it certainly wasn't the first time he'd done something like this just to get by. He hoped it would be the last, but knew he was being foolish; that wasn't his life -- it never was and it never would be.

"God-dammit, Tanner," Croft had groaned. "Come on ... suck it ... harder.... Come on! More ... faster!" Croft had grabbed his ears -- his hair having been shorn to within a few millimeters of his skull the day he'd arrived for training at Quantico -- and used them to do what Vin already knew how to do, keep a decent cadence.

Vin did what he could to make the act quick, and it was. Soon, Croft was shooting hot, thick liquid down Vin's throat and Vin was swallowing every last drop of it.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it, Tanner?" he heard Croft asking. "A good agent knows how to follow orders and, damn, you even did it efficiently." Then the man scoffed, "I didn't think you had it in you."

Vin didn't know how to respond to that. Didn't know if Croft was expecting him to say anything or not. Ultimately, he just kept quiet and waited to see what would happen next.

"What are you waiting for? Get up," Croft ordered, "and thank me for finding a way to keep you in this program."

Vin shoved his dick hard into Chris, not meaning to hurt his partner, but unable to control his need any longer. Chris muffled a cry, but Vin didn't stop. He thrust hard and deep, again and again, needing to dominate Chris, needing to be stronger than this man for just once in his life. He thrust over and over, harder each time, until the desk began to creak beneath them, to grind against the floor with each of Vin's powerful drives into Chris. He could hear Chris groaning each time and knew this wasn't entirely devoid of pleasure for the man; in which Vin would try to solace later.

He just needed this, needed to take Chris like this, like he'd been taken by Croft. The man had taken him with nothing except spit. It wasn't as bad as it could have been. Vin was used to it: being fucked and being fucked with little lubrication. He knew how to relax himself, how to open up, how to just accept his fate. Sometimes it was a good thing, other times it was mere necessity.

"You tough enough, Tanner? Do you have what it takes? Come on ... take it!" Croft had said as he pounded Vin against a desk. Vin remembered just cringing, just waiting for it to end, knowing Croft wouldn't be the type of guy who would wait for Vin to come. It was okay, Vin had told himself; he didn't want to come. All he could think of was Chris Larabee and how disappointed the man would be in Vin if he allowed Croft to break him, if he took any amount of pleasure from this, though Vin vowed Larabee would never know what he'd had to endure in order to become an agent on his team.

"Come on, Larabee. Take it," Vin grunted. And Chris did. Vin continued to pound into him until he was coming hard. Vin's entire body trembled with the effort -- every muscle tensed and cramped, and then eased as his cum pumped deep into Chris's body. Then he slumped forward, panting with the effort, spent from all the emotions of the day.

Chris stood and then turned, and Vin found himself in Chris's arms, in a gentle embrace, with kisses being pressed against his neck.

"It's okay, Vin. Whatever happened, it's okay."

Vin nodded. It wasn't okay. It would never be okay, but with Chris he could try to forget, or at least try to pretend.

"Want to tell me what happened?" Chris asked quietly, but Vin just shook his head. "Then, would you mind if I took care of myself? I'm kind of aching here."

Vin slipped a hand between them and met Chris's hand on the man's dick. He was hard and Vin had been enough of a selfish bastard not to have thought about it.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry, Chris."

"It's okay, Vin. Just let me twist one off real quick, okay? Is that okay, Vin?"

Vin nodded, but he kept his hand on Chris's and together they moved up and down the thick flesh until Chris's hips began to jerk and cum finally coated their fingers. Then Chris pulled Vin back into his arms. "Missed you today," he said. "Thought about you."

Vin just nuzzled against Chris, unable to talk to the man, unable to explain to him what Chris obviously wanted to know.

That bastard Croft had shown up at the shooting range this afternoon. Had dredged up all those old memories, with more pain and regret than Vin could have imaged they'd bring.

"So this is what became of you, Tanner? This is the best you could do after Larabee's precious team bit the dust? Supervisor of the shooting range? Pathetic. And to think I tried to help you. Hell, I did help you -- you'd have washed out of Quantico without me -- and just look how you've wasted it. There's no way out of this hole, not now that you've shown your true worth to the agency. I should have known you weren't worth the time; I should have known you weren't worth the effort."

And because it wasn't the first time he'd been called worthless, Vin believed him.

~ fade ~

Series Index

January 2005

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Characters from "The Magnificent Seven" were used without permission and this story in no way signifies support of, or affiliation with, The Mirisch Group, MGM, Trilogy Entertainment, CBS Worldwide, Inc., or their affiliates. The M7-ATF universe was created by Mog, and extra thanks go to her for allowing other people to play so liberally within it. The story itself and any non-Magnificent Seven characters belong to the author. This story will not be sold for any reason.