Keeping Watch

by Laura H.

The smell of smoldering wood and the coldness that attacked his chest drove Ezra to consciousness, his eyes opening slowly as he tried to figure out why he was staring at the lightening sky of morning rather than the wooden ceiling of his room. He blinked furiously, trying to move one arm up to rub at his eyes but finding he could not. This realization brought about another sensation, that of a band of warmth across his shoulder and part of his chest, which, upon looking down, Ezra realized came from a strongly muscled arm draping over his body.

With that, the southerner’s eyes snapped open, fully, his mind very willing to bring back every sight, sound, taste, and feel of the previous night. Ezra breathed a silent prayer; for a few brief moments, just when he’d woken, he’d remembered having a wonderfully sinful dream. It hadn’t been just another fantasy his unsatisfied body had coerced his brain into concocting... Last night had been real.

Ezra reached down with his free arm and grabbed the blanket that rested around his hips, pulling it back up over his chest to knock off the early morning chill that had awakened him. He let his eyes take in the simple, quiet beauty of the world as it first wakened to a new day, not even minding that he was awake to see it as he normally would have.

Moving as carefully as possible, Ezra slowly turned over to his back, and then to the other side, enjoying the feel of his lover’s arm as it allowed him to turn before quickly tightening and pulling him in. Ezra stared at Chris’ sleeping face, the gunman’s lips slightly open. The southerner leaned in a placed a chaste kiss to those lips that, according to his eyes, were simply begging for a touch. Chris’ head was pillowed on his other arm, with his hand resting just visible. Ezra looked down at the exposed wrist, seeing the fading red marks that his tie job had left. Other marks decorated the gunman’s body, evidence of the passion he and Raphael had been unable to quell. Ezra leaned down and tenderly kissed those slight purple marks that branded the man as their’s that were visible against the pale skin of Chris’ shoulder and chest.

The thought of Raphael sent Ezra’s head back up. He rested it on a bent arm, staring across the sleeping gunman to his new lover. The Mexican was smiling in his sleep, and Ezra could see that, just as Chris had wrapped his arms about him, Raphael was holding the other man tightly to his chest. The black locks were a bit tangled, but that was to be expected considering the number of times he or Chris had run their hands through them while the Mexican brought them to the heights of pleasure. Ezra had lost count of their couplings after that first, explosive encounter by the fire, but, if the pleasurable soreness of his body was anything to go by, it had been several times.

Ezra reached over Chris and smoothed a curl of black silk away from Raphael’s face, lightly tracing the other man’s nose and lips with a single fingertip before settling back down. Raphael’s eyelids began to flutter and Ezra heard the small hitch in his breathing that signaled he was awake. The southerner couldn’t stop a silly grin from crossing his lips as the Mexican’s eyes opened and met his with their dark, erotic gaze.

"Buenos Dias, traviesito." Raphael’s voice was a low whisper, the accented rhythm of it flowing out and over Ezra’s ear. The gambler’s silly grin grew into an open smile, his face, for once, not guarded but allowed to express the contentment he felt at the moment.

"Good morning." Ezra still wasn’t sure what the other man was calling him. He had almost added "darling" to his greeting, but wasn’t sure how the Mexican would respond to that. That he had enjoyed their evening together was obvious, but what did he think about it now, in the day, when their actions were fully brought to light. Ezra knew that he would never forget nor regret what he’d done, and he hoped his two lovers would feel the same way. Still, there was always time to be cautious when dealing with matters of such importance, life and death, even. For, now that he’d experienced the power and passion Chris Larabee could bring forth, Ezra knew his life belonged to the gunman and, without him, there would be nothing left for him. Except, possibly, Raphael, if the Mexican would have him. But, was that the case? Or was he, Ezra, simply something to add variety to their night. Ezra didn’t realize when the smile fell from his face to be replaced by the worried frown. But Raphael noted it and decided something must be done about it.

"What has made you sad, traviesito?" Ezra looked up with a jerk, the Mexican’s voice bringing him out of his ever depressing thoughts. "Do you, perhaps, regret this past night?" Ezra’s eyes widened, but he still retained enough control of himself to think before he spoke.

"Do you?" he asked quietly, wondering if the pounding of his heart could be possibly be as loud as it sounded in his own ears. If Raphael answered yes, then Ezra was sure all his hopes were over, for there was no doubt in his mind with whom Chris would choose to stay.

"Nunca." Ezra was sure that Raphael heard his heart, then, as it jumped up into his throat and began beating double time. Nunca. Never. The Mexican would never regret their actions. Ezra’s eyes fluttered closed and he sighed, enjoying the feeling of relief that coursed through him. But what would happen now? If Chris also expressed no regrets, that wasn’t the end of their troubles. Raphael had a price on his head, most positively, after his help in Don Paolo’s death. The Mexican couldn’t come back with them to Four Corners. But Ezra highly doubted that Chris could just let him go, either. Hell, as far as that line of thinking went, the gambler wasn’t sure he, himself, could just allow Raphael to leave without knowing when they’d meet again.

"You have not answered my question, traviesito." Ezra opened his eyes and looked back to where Raphael was now mirroring his pose, their gazes meeting over the still sleeping form of the gunman between them. Ezra was careful to keep his voices down so as not to wake him.

"Do I regret the hours I have spent in your arms and your company? No. I will never regret them." Raphael smiled and moved his arm from around Chris’ waist to raise his hand to his lips. The Mexican placed a kiss on his own two fingers then extended them over, placing the warm wetness his lips had left onto Ezra’s, the gambler leaning into the caress and allowing his tongue to flit out and caress the two digits. Raphael smiled and leaned back, replacing his arm about the blonde man between them before his expression returned to seriousness.

"Then what is troubling you? I have no regrets. You have no regrets." Raphael looked down at the gunman and smiled before catching Ezra’s eyes again. "You don’t think el hermoso durmiente will have regrets, do you?" Ezra shrugged slightly as he looked away. Carefully, Ezra removed the gunman’s arm that draped across his side and set it down on the ground before sitting up fully and drawing his knees up to be surrounded by his arms. The gambler then rested his chin on his arms, looking straight ahead. He heard Raphael stirring and glanced sideways to see the Mexican echoing his posture once again.

"You love him deeply, do you not?" Ezra closed his eyes. He knew there was no denying the question, and, if he tried to deny it, it would not make things better. He simply nodded, not looking over to where Raphael had reached over to his discarded jacket and pulled out a cheroot. The Mexican tapped it gently against his hand before putting it to his lips. Ezra watched as Raphael leaned and grabbed the end of a smoking twig from their dying fire, bringing it back and carefully cupping the glowing end against the tobacco until it too glowed. Raphael took a deep drag of smoke and parted his lips, letting the white fog caress the tender flesh as it escaped.

"How deeply?" Ezra jerked his head around. That was a question he hadn’t expected. He watched as Raphael continued to smoke his cheroot, the intensity of his dark eyes piercing through the small clouds of smoke he exhaled to see deep into the gambler’s soul. Ezra shuddered before squaring his shoulders and looking out to where the sun was just beginning to shine over the distant hills.

"Deeply enough to let him go if that is what he desires." Ezra closed his eyes against the brightening horizon. Feeling a warm hand touch his shoulder, the gambler turned to watch Raphael pinch out the end of his all but smoked out cheroot and fling it into the fire. The Mexican kept his hand on Ezra’s shoulder as he spoke, the warm tanned flesh standing out in great contrast to the paleness of the southerner’s skin.

"And do you think that is what he desires?" Raphael’s voice was soft and quiet, his eyes patient as he awaited the other man’s answer. Ezra licked his lips, trying to organize his thoughts. Before he could draw the breath to speak, however, his answer was staved off by a new intrusion.

"You two keep talking about me like I ain’t here and I’m gonna feel unwanted." Ezra and Raphael jerked slightly and turned to look down at the man between them, both looking like two small children who’d just been caught doing something they shouldn’t. Raphael recovered first, leaning down to press a kiss to Chris’ lips.

"You will never be unwanted, querido." Ezra looked away, licking his lips as he heard the soft, moist sounds of the kiss taking place behind him. Chris’ groan hit him like a strong gust of wind, forcing the Southerner to turn and watch as Raphael sucked on Chris’ lower lip before pulling back and releasing it. Chris smiled up at the Mexican as Raphael settled down on his elbow, grinning ferally at his lover. The gunman then turned his eyes to Ezra, an easy smile covering his face.

Ezra felt his pulse speed up. There were very few times he’d ever seen that look of utter contentment and relaxation on the blonde’s face. It took years away and made him appear care-free. A hint of darkness and danger still lurked, of course, but Ezra didn’t mind it. That darkness and danger had been partly what had made him love this man. As Ezra didn’t move towards the gunman, the smile faded from Chris’ face, replaced by a serious set of his mouth.

Chris reached up and set his hand on Ezra’s arm, neither pulling him down or pushing him away, just establishing a line of contact with the man who had brought him such pleasure last night. He felt Ezra tense under his touch, but the gambler made no move to get away from it. Instead, Ezra turned his head back out to look over the flatness of the land, broken every now and then by a group of mesquite, until it rose up into the small hill that crested just to the side of the small ranch.

"How long have you been awake?" Ezra’s voice was a mere whisper. He’d gathered enough courage to attack the problem weighing his heart, but he couldn’t manage to actually face the object of his desire. If Chris refused him or chose to stay here with Raphael, Ezra would be more able to control his voice than his face, and he knew it.

Chris exchanged a look with Raphael. The Mexican nodded, his eyes warning the gunman to be careful. The gambler looked as fragile as some of the delicate crystal pieces Ms. Potter had just gotten in at her store.

"Long enough." Chris kept his voice low as well, not wanting to do anything that would make Ezra bolt away. The gunman had dealt with enough skittish horses to recognize the signs they usually displayed when ready to run off. Learning to trust wasn’t easy, especially when that trust came with something unfamiliar. Ezra was learning to trust other people, slowly, but here, there was more than trust. Here, there was a partnership that didn’t even come close to the friendship he was developing with the others back in Four Corners. The gambler was learning that it was okay to love, and to be loved.

Ezra merely nodded his head. Chris’ hand had never left his arm. Now, the gunman’s thumb began a slow, soothing caress on the inside of his elbow where it rested, feeling the racing flow of blood as it flowed through the veins there. Ezra turned slightly, looking down into the quiet, deep green eyes of his lover. The words Chris had spoken last night came up to Ezra’s tongue.

"What do you want?" The silence of the morning lay heavy as Ezra waited for the answer that would turn last night into the beginning of a new future or a memory of what would never be. Chris paused for a moment before bringing the smile back to his face and squeezing Ezra’s arm.

"You," he answered. The last of the word was barely out of his mouth before Ezra was on him, his lips hungrily consuming Chris’, his tongue slipping inside to wrap around the gunman’s. Chris wrapped his arms tightly about the gambler, feeling the slight quivering of his body. He felt another hand atop his and opened his eyes to peer over Ezra’s shoulder to where Raphael still lay, propped on one arm, a large smile on his face. Chris joined his fingers with the

those atop his own as they both welcomed the gambler into their lives.

EIGHT

"What is our next course of action?" Ezra asked, sipping the coffee that had quickly been warmed up over the renewed fire. He reached up a hand to adjust the hat on his head, as well as the collar of his shirt, the three of them having dressed to be ready for whatever the day would bring. Chris and Raphael sat next to him, both enjoying the aroma of the strong liquid in their cups.

"Well, I told Vin that we’d probably be out here a week or so. I ain’t planning on heading back early." Chris winked at the gambler, making the other man smile slightly. Raphael just chuckled.

"I have no objections to that plan for our immediate future, Mr. La...Chris," Ezra continued, enjoying the way Chris’ name rolled off his tongue. "What I was deliberating was all this." Ezra waved a hand around to include the land, house, barn, and corral. "If I am understanding the note you have in your possession correctly, which I am quite sure I am, then you are now the proper owner of this habitation." Chris paused, his coffee cup half-way to his mouth as he looked at the Southerner.

"He is right, querido." Raphael sent an appraising eye around the place. The house was solidly built, except for the windows which had been broken. The barn and corral, while old, were still in good shape. There was a small well out behind the house and a windmill and tank behind the barn. There wasn’t much in the way of feed for many animals, but a small herd could be raised on the vegetation in the valleys surrounding the ranch.

"I hadn’t given it much thought," Chris murmured. A new ranch. It would require hard work to make a go of it, of course, but hard work wasn’t something new to Chris Larabee. The gunman looked around, noting many of the same things Raphael had mentally catalogued only moments before. He could make a go of it. But, could he just pull up stakes from Four Corners? There were five good men back there that depended on him, and that he depended upon as well. Chris looked to his lovers, noting the understanding glances they threw him.

"I must admit that I have been considering it," Ezra ventured, licking his lips before continuing as Chris’ eyes fastened on his own. "This location is fairly close to our current place of residence, so a commute between them would not require much time, a day at the most. Therefore, it could be plausible for you to remain in ownership of the ranch and continue your duties in Four Corners. You would, of course, need an individual whom you trusted implicitly to look after things in your absence," Ezra paused for a pointed glance at Raphael, "and, naturally, whom you would come out to see how he was handling things and to bring him whatever he needed." Chris and Raphael shared a glance before looking back at the gambler. Ezra offered a small smile.

"If that is merely considering it, traviesito, I am looking forward to your conclusions when you have had time to think on it fully." Raphael raised his coffee cup in a slight toast of sorts before drinking the last of it down. Ezra chuckled slightly.

"It was merely idle ramblings. All that would be needed to put them into motion would be to inquire of Judge Travis when we return to Four Corners and have this make-shift deed notarized and made legal. Then, the ranch is yours." Chris nodded his head.

"Sounds like a helluva plan... Just one thing I can see you’ve left out." Ezra frowned, going back over his logic. He had thought he’d figured for everything, from legal ownership to plausible reasoning for Raphael to stay at the ranch and Chris to ride out and check on his "foreman". Chris saw the confusion on the gambler’s face and waited for those emerald eyes to looks his way again. When they did, the gunman smiled. "You left out the part that you were with me when we found that note. Half of this place belongs to you. You’ll have to come out with me when we check on the place... that way, we know our foreman will be getting everything he needs."

Ezra looked about in shock. He’d never even considered the idea that the ownership of the ranch would be split between them. He’d been content enough just thinking that he would have the gunman while in town and Raphael would have him at the ranch. Here, however, was a chance to have both men and something he’d always wanted, a home he owned. Raphael smiled at the gambler, echoing the amusement on Chris’ face as Ezra was left without words.

"Very well," Ezra finally said, swallowing several times to make his voice work again. Chris stood and threw the remnants of his coffee on the small fire and tossed his cup back onto his blanket.

"Then it’s done....right?" No word of negativity came from either man still seated. Chris grinned and reached down a hand to pull Ezra up, offering a kiss to the gambler, who eagerly took it before pulling up Raphael and doing the same. "You ain’t gonna get lonely out here, are ya?" The Mexican smiled as he wrapped his arms about Chris’ neck.

"No, querido. I will enjoy the peace and quiet." A wicked gleam entered his dark eyes, making them appear as if a fire lit them from inside. "Besides, I doubt you will allow me to grow too lonely." Raphael suggestively nudged his hips forward, rubbing against Chris. The gunman growled and kissed the Mexican hard. Ezra threw his own coffee to the dirt and quickly kicked enough dirt atop the fire to put it out.

"Damn right on that point," he hissed, breaking away. The two men let go of one another. "Well, Ezra, how about we go and see what this place looks like on the inside?" Ezra nodded and settled his hat before walking to stand on the other side of the gunman. They’d examined the place, briefly, upon their arrival, but not too closely. Ezra did remember seeing a rather large feather bed in one of the bedrooms of the house.

The three men mounted the steps to the small porch. Ezra watched as Larabee opened the door and couldn’t keep a smile from coming to his face.

"Well, Señor Martinez... which one of us has the honor of carrying the bride across the threshold?" The gunman in black turned, raising an eyebrow as Raphael quietly chuckled.

"I do not know, traviesito... it might take both of us." Chris slowly crossed the few feet that separated him from the gambler, not stopping until the other man was backed up against the post that held the porch roof up.

"If anyone gets carried over the threshold, it’ll be you, Ezra..." An evil glint entered Chris’ eyes. "After all, you’re the one that wears the dresses around here." The gambler straightened up, twitching the sleeves of his jacket and looking remarkably like a hen with her feathers ruffled.

"Mr. Larabee, that was not kind." Chris just smiled as Raphael walked over a few steps and leaned against the second beam on the other side of the steps, tucking his thumbs into the red sash around his waist.

"A dress, traviesito?" Ezra turned his attention to the Mexican, not failing to notice the grin across his face that reminded him of a cat ready to steal the cream.

"It was under duress, I assure you." Ezra turned back to where Chris still stood in close proximity. "And I am afraid that it was the first and last time as, upon our return from that despicable locale, I gave that abomination of fashion to Mr. Tanner to be incinerated and scattered to the winds." Chris’ grin never faded and Ezra began to feel a bit nervous.

"It’s a shame Vin never got that thing burned, though..." Ezra’s eyes got considerably wider. Chris just leaned in closer. "Buck took it from him... I think he’s saving it for a present for ya." Ezra just moaned and hung his head, one hand coming up to rub at his eyes. Chris laughed and brought the gambler’s head up for a quick kiss to those luscious lips. "If ya like, I could get it back early for ya. Then you could show Raphael how pretty ya looked in it." Ezra’s head dropped back to his chest, his mind filled with thoughts of retribution on a certain mustached cowboy.

"Enough, querido." Raphael walked over, lifting Ezra’s head and smiling. "He looks pretty to me in nothing at all." Ezra’s breath hitched as he felt the heat from Raphael’s fingers caresses his skin. Raphael leaned in for a slow, breath stealing kiss. Ezra’s chest was heaving when the Mexican pulled back. "Come, let us go look at your home." Ezra smiled widely.

"I recall having seen a rather large feather bed that might be worth looking at," he whispered.

"Bueno," Raphael nodded. Chris and Raphael entered the house, with Ezra following not far behind. They made quick work of finding the object of Ezra’s memory. Chris immediately grabbed Raphael and kissed him fiercely, knocking the Mexican’s hat back and running his hands through his hair. Ezra paused at the door, smiling as he saw Chris’ hat go flying across the room, followed by the double thud as two gunbelts hit the floor.

"Would you like me to take first watch this time, Mr. Larabee?" Chris and Raphael both stopped immediately. With one look, they each grabbed the gambler by an arm and pulled him into the room. Chris crushed the other man to his chest, his hands roaming over the gambler’s body with lightning speed. The gunman suckled at Ezra’s neck before moving up and laving his ear with a wet, rough tongue.

"Watch? Hell, Ezra, I don’t plan on letting you outta my sight." Ezra felt Raphael step up behind him, rubbing the heat of his body against him as his arms encircled both himself and Chris. Ezra felt the bulge of Raphael’s arousal pressing against his hips as the Mexican removed Ezra’s hat and went to work on his other ear, nibbling on the lobe and licking the small, sensitive patch of skin just below it.

"Si, traviesito... Now you have someone to watch your front and your back." Ezra just moaned and gave in, feeling Raphael’s hand go down to release his belt before moving on to rub both his swollen groin and Chris’ at the same time. Dual growls hit the air as the trio finally made their way to the bed and fell atop one another. The bed creaked under the weight, but none of the three men noticed as they quickly set about christening their new home.

THE END

Comments to NMGambler@aol.com