The mattress creaked beneath his weight as he sat down on the faded green blanket. A moment later, the metallic click of handcuffs echoed in the small, sparsely furnished motel room."So, how much?"
"How much what?"
"Money. How much?"
Vin met the other man's eyes before running his gaze slowly down his long, lean form. The man wore a thick, gray sweatshirt and loose-fitting blue jeans, but they did little to deter Vin from readily imagining what lay beneath. He looked up again, only to find the man smiling at him, as if he could read Vin's mind.
"So, how much?"
"Five," Vin said finally.
"Hundred?"
"Thousand."
The man on the bed let out a long, low whistle.
Vin had to agree with his assessment. It would be enough to keep Vin from having to work more overtime, sweeping floors and restocking shelves at the market. Enough to pay his bills, buy new tires for the Jeep, a new pair of boots for himself, and more bullets for his gun. It would be nice not to worry about money for a while.
Opportunities like this didn't come along very often, so when they did, Vin had to grab them. And Cort had practically fallen into his lap.
"Reckon I better make you earn it."
"I've been earnin' it since the moment ya got into the Jeep."
Cort just smiled. Vin turned away, suddenly feeling self-conscious and uncomfortable.
He grabbed his shaving kit and headed for the bathroom. He left the door open as he stepped up to the toilet to relieve himself. He wanted a shower — a nice, hot shower — but he knew better than to leave Cort alone for that long.
Next to the sink, the motel had left four complimentary items: soap, lotion, shampoo, and conditioner. Vin stuffed the bottles into his shaving kit, and then peeled the paper off the bar of soap, which he used to wash his hands. He brushed his teeth and thought about a shave, but decided against it as he stared at himself in the mirror.
Some days he didn't recognize the face that stared back at him; some days he recognized it all too well. He wasn't sure which it was today, so he ran his fingers through his hair, combing out the tangles. Then he headed out of the bathroom.
"Ah, geez, Cort! What the hell are ya doin'?"
Cort was lying on the bed. His right wrist was still cuffed to the headboard and his sweatshirt was bunched up along his arm; he'd obviously pulled it off as far as he was able, leaving only a white tank top covering his chest. His pants were undone, pushed slightly off his hips, and his left hand was busy working over his thick, hard shaft.
"Trying to get a little relief. You mind?"
"Hell ya, I mind. Put it away, Cort."
"What do you expect me to do when you won't even give me a moment of privacy?"
"I expect ya to put it away 'til yer no longer my problem."
"Aw, come on, Tanner. Look, if you uncuff my right hand, this won't take me near as long."
"How 'bout I cuff both yer hands?"
Vin watched as Cort ran his eyes from Vin's face all the way down his body and then up again. "As far as I can tell, Tanner, you've only got one bulge in them pants of yours and it looks more like a Billy club to me than an extra pair of handcuffs."
Vin dropped his shaving kit to the floor as he reached behind his back and pulled his gun. He brought it around and leveled it at the hand Cort was still using to hold his dick. "Maybe I'll just shoot it off and solve both our problems."
"Or ... you could give me a hand."
Vin's jaw nearly dropped when Cort said this. He hadn't expected it; he hadn't wanted to hear it, at least he didn't think so.
"Come on, Tanner. Help me out here, would you?"
Vin laid his gun on the dresser. It was too late for this shit, and he was too tired. He toed off his boots and began to undo his belt.
"Would it make a difference if I told you that I didn't do it? That I didn't embezzle that money?"
Vin turned around and looked at Cort again. The man's gray eyes were like the sky on a cloudy day; his hair was pale and swept back off his face, as if from a crisp, spring breeze. Vin could lose himself on a day like that, standing out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but fresh grass and wildflowers.
"No, it wouldn't make a diff'rence," Vin responded finally. "I'm only here 'cuz ya jumped bail."
"Then I'm glad I jumped bail. I'm glad you're the one who found me."
Found me. Those words stirred something deep inside Vin and, suddenly, he didn't feel alone in the middle of that expansive field. Vin's eyes had drifted back to Cort's free hand, the one that was ever so slowly stroking his shaft, just barely keeping himself hard. Cort pulled his hand away from himself and tucked it behind his head.
Vin stepped closer to the bed, and then sank down to sit on the edge. He reached out and slipped his hand gently between Cort's hard dick and his flat stomach. Vin moved slowly upward, allowing the soft, velvet skin to brush across the middle of his palm. It tickled enough to make him want to scratch the itch, so he wrapped his fingers around Cort's length and began to stroke, allowing the friction to relieve the tingle in his palm.
He glanced up at Cort and found the man's eyes closed. Vin had forced himself not to think about Cort this entire time, since the moment he'd run into him on the street. They'd collided, and Vin had nearly fallen. Cort grabbed his arm, steadied him on the uneven pavement. When Vin had looked up, he first noticed the man's eyes, and then the curve of his jaw and the way his pale hair framed his face. An instant later, he had Cort shoved up against the side of the nearest building as he slapped cuffs around his wrists. It had been sheer luck — sheer, dumb luck — that he'd run into Cort when he had, just a half hour after glancing through the latest pile of wanted posters. Five thousand dollars had just walked right up to him on the street and practically shoved itself into his pocket.
Now he wondered if his dumb luck wasn't something else: fate, maybe, but with a twisted sense of humor as sharp as a knife in his gut.
Vin moved his hand up and down Cort's shaft, pausing for just a moment at the head to rub his thumb across the slit, collecting the creamy liquid that had gathered there, like a single tear, a lone drop of rain.
He moved his other hand to Cort's hip and eased the man's pants just a little lower down his thighs. Cort was pale, without a tan line around his waist; his fair skin probably burned in the sun. It looked almost strange — like polished stone — beneath Vin's tanned, calloused hand. He ran a single digit over the smooth, unblemished skin and thought about the scars that marked his own body.
Vin moved his hand down and then across Cort's thigh, just dipping between his legs. He casually brushed the side of his hand against Cort's balls and he watched as the skin contracted. Vin thought he heard a muffled sound from Cort, but he wasn't certain, and he didn't look up in order to check. He rubbed the inside of Cort's muscular thighs. They weren't runner's legs, like his own. He wondered if the man played a sport, or if he'd built his form in a gym.
When Vin felt a hand on his shoulder, he jerked away, startled; he looked up into Cort's face. The man smiled gently, as if he were looking at the far side of a canyon, something so far away that it appeared like nothing more than a painted backdrop.
Cort sat up, leaning on the elbow of the arm still handcuffed to the headboard. He reached out to Vin again, gently pulling him forward with a hand on his upper arm.
Vin leaned in until they were mere inches apart. He could feel the warmth of Cort's breath against his face; he could see the dark smudge of lashes, like rain on the horizon, framing his gray eyes; he could see the small, half-inch scar that ran along the lower edge of his mouth. And then he closed his eyes and tasted the slight salt of skin as he allowed Cort to press their lips together.
Vin reached up and stroked Cort's face, running his thumb along his cheekbone. He pushed his tongue out, running it across Cort's lower lip; with the tip, he could feel the slightly raised ridge of the scar. Vin pulled back.
"How'd ya get this?" he asked, moving his hand over Cort's face so that he could touch the scar with his thumb.
"Fell off my bike when I was ten." Cort smiled. His eyes were suddenly unfocused, as if he were remembering the incident. "Spectacular crash; you should have seen it! I'm lucky I didn't break my neck." He laughed gently.
Vin nodded when he realized Cort was looking at him again.
"How about you?" Cort asked. He ran a finger along the inch long scar just under Vin's right collarbone. "How'd you get this?"
"Kuwait." He slid away from Cort's hand; he didn't want to talk about it. He moved down the man's body and lowered his head. Then he licked Cort's hard shaft until the man moaned, lying back on the bed again. Vin didn't like thinking about Kuwait, about his time in the Army, about anything in his past. It was over, done with. He never saw the point in dredging up what was over and done with and could never be changed.
Cort moaned again, and Vin felt a hand card through his hair; he was suddenly glad he'd taken the time to comb out the tangles when he'd been in the bathroom. Just feeling Cort's fingertips running over his scalp sent a sweet tingle down his spine. He returned the favor by running his hands over Cort's inner thighs.
Cort spread his legs wider, as wide as the pants bunched just above his knees would allow. Vin pulled away again, scooting down toward the end of the bed, tugging Cort's pants down his legs in the process. Soon, they were tossed onto the floor, joined a few moments later by his own pants. Vin then crawled back up the bed, crawled up the length of Cort's body, leaving a trail of licks and kisses, as if he were marking his territory.
When he reached Cort's balls, he paused to nuzzle, until Cort began to squirm beneath him. Vin moved upward, licking the entire length of Cort's breathtaking cock. He was long and just thick enough, in Vin's opinion; the skin was beautifully veined and the dark head was clearly visible beyond his foreskin. Vin ran his tongue over the slit, then just under the loose edge of skin. Cort squirmed and moaned.
"You gonna spend all night teasing me, Tanner?" Cort managed to ask after a few moments of nothing but gasping breaths.
"Was ponderin' on it, yeah. Why, ya got other ideas?"
"I can think of a few, just off the top of my head."
Vin mouthed the tip of Cort's penis again, wondering if that was the head he had in mind. Cort jerked his hips up, shoving his dick into Vin's mouth. Vin sucked it deep as he wrapped his fingers around the base, stroking just slightly as Cort pushed his cock in and out. Then Vin moved his hand lower, to cup Cort's balls; he allowed the motion of Cort's hips to move his fingertips along the smooth skin between Cort's pucker and sac. Cort continued thrusting.
Vin eased his hand further back, until his fingers were rubbing over Cort's hole. He felt Cort's hand in his hair again, combing through it, tracing the outline of his ear, teasing the lobe. Vin pushed his wetted finger into Cort and Cort cried out as he bucked up off the mattress, driving his dick deep down Vin's throat. But then he settled and Vin began to thrust his finger in time with Cort's again gentle, rhythmic thrusts.
Vin moved his fingertip inside, rubbing it against the wall, feeling for the spot he knew every man possessed. Cort moaned deeply and then let out a strangled gasp. His warm jizz flooded Vin's mouth. Vin tried to swallow it, but Cort's suddenly frantic thrusts made it nearly impossible. Some of the slick liquid oozed out of Vin's mouth and ran down his chin.
When Cort's hips stilled, Vin pulled away. He wiped his mouth with his shirtsleeve, then looked up at Cort, whom he found staring at him with sated eyes the color of spent rain clouds.
Cort smiled softly and Vin found himself lying down beside the man, curling up against him, tucking his head onto his shoulder.
"God, you're incredible. You know that?" Cort whispered as he rubbed Vin's arm, holding him close.
Vin could hear the man's heartbeat and knew he must be ready for sleep. Vin rested his arm across Cort's waist and closed his own eyes.
"Tanner? Vin?"He heard his name and the voice was pleasant to his ears: not urgent or angry, just soft and almost ... curious.
"Vin? How can you sleep like that?"
"Hmm ... like what?"
Vin felt the thing on which he was resting — a pillow? No. An arm? — being pulled out from under his head. Then he felt a hand run down the length of his body — over the fabric of the t-shirt he vaguely remembered not taking off, over the skin of his stomach, and then under the elastic of his boxers.
"Like this?"
Warm fingers wrapped around Vin's hot, hard length and began to rub.
"It's harder than mine and it was poking me in the leg."
"Sorry," Vin said, shifting his hips a bit, but the hand around his dick prevented him from moving far.
"Don't be sorry. Just stick it somewhere else, would you?"
Vin shifted again, intent on rolling away, but the hand held him firmly.
"Somewhere useful."
Vin's sleep addled mind finally understood. "Ya want me to...."
"Mmm hmm. Couldn't sleep just thinking about it."
Vin felt warm lips press against his temple, and then move down to his cheek. He turned his head and allowed Cort to kiss him on the lips. The man's tongue immediately slipped inside — licking, tasting, encouraging.
Vin knew this was a dream — or someone else's life. He decided he didn't care, as long as he got to live it for the next half hour or so.
Cort trailed kisses down to Vin's neck, mumbling, "I could get used to this."
Vin had to agree with the man's sentiment. He rolled onto his side, slipping his arm around Cort's waist and pulling him close. He ghosted his lips across Cort's, softly, wanting to savor the tingling sensation for a moment before quelling it by pressing hard.
He heard the distinctive clink of metal and felt Cort grunt against his mouth.
"Unlock these, Vin."
Vin shook his head. "Ya know I can't."
"I won't run, I promise. Just wanna be here with you. Just want to do this right. I need two hands for that."
Vin shook his head again. He wanted to trust Cort; he wanted to believe that the man was doing this out of want and desire; but from experience he knew that he didn't dare.
"I want you, Vin. I want to feel you, be with you."
"Roll onto yer right side," Vin directed, giving Cort a gentle shove away from him. Then Vin sat up and reached over the side of the bed, retrieving the shaving kit he'd dropped there earlier. From it he pulled one of the complimentary bottles the motel had provided in the bathroom. He checked the label, and then squirted the lotion onto his fingers.
He pushed Cort's left leg forward with his own knee, then, gently, he began to rub the creamy liquid between Cort's cheeks.
"Wait a minute," Cort breathed and Vin didn't think he sounded like he really meant it. Vin kept rubbing, working the lotion over the tight pucker. "Wait!"
"You're stoppin' me now? Now?" Vin cock was aching to be inside this man. He didn't want to wait; he didn't want to stop.
"You got a condom?"
"No, but I'm clean," Vin said as he pushed his index finger inside. Cort moaned with the intrusion.
"What about me?" Cort managed to ask.
"What about you? Ya sayin' ya ain't clean?"
"No. I'm saying you might think you're clean or that I'm clean ... but what if you're wrong?"
Vin shrugged, and then pushed his finger deeper into Cort, as a way of saying that he didn't care, that it didn't really matter.
Cort moaned again, and then he gasped for breath. "You ... you hate yourself that much?"
"What?"
"You heard me. You wanna die? You wanna kill yourself?"
Vin rolled onto his back as he pulled his hand away from Cort's body. He stared up at the ceiling.
"Vin?" Cort rolled over, staring hard.
Vin tried not to feel the eyes on him, assessing him, judging him.
"You ever think about it, Vin? Killing yourself?"
Vin didn't move, didn't make a sound. He didn't want to have this conversation. Not with Cort, not with anyone. It wasn't anyone's business what he thought about.
"Look, Vin, lots of people do. Sometimes it's the thing that helps you get through the night, just knowing that option exists."
Vin kept staring at the ceiling. How had this quick fuck turned into a therapy session?
"Let me give you a friendly piece of advice, Vin." Cort paused, but Vin didn't respond. "You wanna kill yourself, that's your business. Just make it quick and as painless as possible. Grab that gun of yours and blow your brains out or something. But don't do it like this. AIDS is a shitty way to go; I know, I've seen it, and I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."
Vin hadn't seen it. He'd heard about it, of course, but he'd never known anyone who'd had it — not even a friend of a friend.
"So, come on. You don't hate yourself that much, do you?"
"No." Vin said the word without thought, because he didn't want to think about what Cort was asking.
"Good. Then grab that condom outta my pants pocket and let's get down to it. I've got an ache for you like you wouldn't believe!" Cort leaned over and kissed Vin on the lips. It wasn't hard and fast, like Vin thought it would be, like he thought he wanted it to be, like it would have been had he initiated it; instead it was slow and gentle, with just the tip of Cort's tongue running over and between his lips.
It didn't matter what he thought about, Vin decided. It didn't matter what he thought at all. This is all that mattered, at least for right now — this gorgeous guy wanting him, wanting to touch him and taste him, wanting to be fucked by him. How bad could things really be when stuff like this could and did happen? Not as often as he would like, but often enough.
He felt Cort's free hand on his dick, slowly, almost awkwardly, stroking him back to rock-hardness. Yeah, he wanted this, and if it meant breaking away from this man's touch in order to grab a stupid condom, then that's what he'd do.
Vin pushed himself away from Cort and off the bed. He rummaged through the man's pockets, finding nothing but some coins, a ring of keys, and his wallet. He opened the wallet, not pausing even long enough to ask Cort's permission. Inside he found several hundred dollars in cash, a couple of credit cards, and one condom. He didn't bother to check the expiration date, or to see if the package was intact.
He tore it open as he headed back to the bed. Kneeling beside Cort, with Cort's gray eyes watching intently, Vin placed the condom on the tip of his dick and slowly unrolled the latex sheath. He liked the feeling: of Cort watching him, of the tightly rolled edge squeezing him as he pushed it all the way down his hard length.
Cort was smiling at him and Vin fought the urge to unlock the handcuffs. It would be nice to feel this man's hands on him, both hands, touching him, pleasuring him, holding him.
Cort handed him the bottle of lotion and Vin spread some along the length of the condom. Cort pulled off his tank top and then rolled onto his stomach, presenting his ass. Vin crawled between his legs, and then spread the lotion that remained on his fingers between Cort's cheeks, pushing the slickness inside, past the ring of muscle.
Vin moved one hand to Cort's hip, while he used his other to position the head of his dick at Cort's pucker. He pushed forward and Cort groaned. A moment later, he was inside. The tight muscles of Cort's hole squeezed the tip of Vin's dick for a few moments, no doubt rebelling against the intrusion. Vin rubbed his hand over Cort's lower back. When the muscles began to relax, Vin pushed himself deeper inside. A few more inches, and then he was rubbing Cort's back again. Before he could move forward another inch, Cort was pushing against him, shoving Vin's cock deep, until Vin felt his balls slap against Cort's.
Vin then slowly began to pull out, until he felt the tight ring of muscle contract just behind his glans, preventing him from a complete exit. He pushed forward again and was soon moving in and out in a slow, steady rhythm.
As he moved, Cort moved with him, his ass gliding along Vin's length, effortlessly. Vin's eyes roamed up the man's smooth, muscular back to his broad shoulders. His pale skin was flawless, almost translucent in its paleness. It made his light hair appear almost golden in contrast. Vin reached forward, grasping Cort's shoulder, pulling himself deep, riding the man as if he were a stallion begging to be broken.
After a few moments, Cort arched his back as he placed his head down on the mattress. Then Vin felt the man's hand — it was between their legs, rubbing against Vin's balls. Vin felt a shudder race up his body. Then the hand was gone, but Cort's back remained arched. Vin could tell that Cort was stroking himself, pulling his dick, wanting to come again. Vin wanted him to come. He wanted Cort to come while he was still inside of him. He wanted nothing more than to make Cort come, again and again, except to come himself, deep inside Cort's hot channel.
Vin increased the speed and intensity of his thrusts. He knew he was stroking over that spot inside Cort's body, he could feel the man tense and shiver each time he drove into him. Just as he began to wonder how much longer Cort would hold out, he heard the man gasp and felt his entire body tense. Cort's head jerked up, his back seized, his ass muscled clenched, and, deep inside, Vin could feel his own dick being squeezed and milked until he too was coming.
He pushed deep, wanting this to last forever. The explosion deep in his groin, shooting seed from his shaft, sent waves of ecstatic pleasure along every nerve — down his legs until his toes curled, up his spine and out his arms until his fingers tingled, up into his skull until he saw a rainbow of colors and felt the ends of his hair spark like lightning.
And then it was over. Vin's mind and body were spent. His eyes felt just as heavy as every other part of his being. He pulled out of Cort and stripped off the condom. Cort slipped down onto his stomach before turning onto his side. Vin moved behind him, spooning against him, pressing his dick, which was just now beginning to soften, up against Cort's still slicked ass. Vin slipped his hand around Cort's waist and then felt Cort's hand on top of his own, entwining their fingers.
Oh, yeah, I could get used to this, too, Vin thought.
It didn't seem fair that he should find a man like Cort under these circumstances. It didn't seem right that he'd fucked him while he was still handcuffed to the bed. He ought to have more faith in Cort than that, after what they'd done. He had a feeling, deep in his gut that he could trust this man. Maybe Cort was innocent. Maybe he hadn't embezzled that money. He could have been framed; Vin knew something about that himself. He wanted to trust Cort, because he wanted to be with him again.
Vin wasn't sure what to do and pondered on it for the few moments left to him before he drifted again into sleep.
"You don't have to do this."Cort had him pinned against the bathroom door. Vin glanced over at his gun on the dresser. He knew he'd made a mistake — more than one — he just wasn't sure which one had landed him in this impossible situation.
"Yeah, I do."
Then Cort leaned forward. Vin could feel his warm breath on his face. He stared into the man's gray eyes and in them saw forever. Forever and never again.
"Cort...." he began to say, until the man kissed him. Their breath mingled, their tongues touched and caressed. Vin closed his eyes and felt himself sinking, deep, deeper. God, how he wanted this. How he wanted this man; he wanted these feelings; he wanted this to be real and true and right. But this was someone else's life and Vin had known that all along.
"I'll never forget you."
"Ya need to go."
"Vin— "
"Just go." Vin didn't bother asking if Cort had enough money. He knew for a fact that he did; he had more money in his wallet than Vin had in his bank account.
Cort leaned in and kissed him again, slipping his arms around Vin's waist and pulling him so close that Vin could feel their erections slide against one another.
Stay, he wanted to say. Stay a few more days. Stay and fuck me until I forget that you're a wanted man. Tell me you love me and convince me to go with you. But he couldn't. Guilty or not, Cort had jumped bail, and Vin was letting him go.
"Go."
Cort pulled back and Vin was able to focus on his eyes, still the gray of unsettled clouds, now in a winter's sky. Then he watched as Cort walked away, out the door and out of his life.
Vin glanced again at the dresser, at the option that still lay on top of it. Then he sank to the floor as the storm broke over him, wetting his cheeks with droplets of rain.
~ fade ~
April 2003Please do NOT repost this story anywhere outside of the Blackraptor Fiction Website.Thanks to my beta reader for her kind attention and helpful suggestions.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, or CBS Worldwide, Inc. The M7-ATF universe was created by Mog, and extra thanks go to her for allowing other people to play within it. The story itself and any non-Magnificent Seven characters belong to the author. This story will not be sold for any reason.Portrait of Cort is a photo-manipulation of a picture from davidanders.com