Deception

by Esmeralda

He caught up with the tracker just as Four Corners dropped out of sight. Chris grit his teeth against the burning in his side, and spurred Belle forward, coming up along side the wagon. Vin glanced across at him, and then turned back to face the road, his expression blank.

"Vin, I need to talk to ya."

"Like I said to Nathan, I reckon we've said all we need to say between us, Larabee."

The cold formality cut deep. "Vin-" he began again.

Vin shot him a look full of hurt and anger. "For chrissakes, Chris. Leave it be. 'Fore either of us does somethin' we might regret." The tracker gave the reins a snap, nudging the wagon forward a little faster.

Chris rode to match the pace, then edged Belle forward. Squeezing past the wagon, he turned sidelong in front of it, blocking the track.

Vin was forced to pull up sharply. He sat glaring, but his hand never strayed near his gun.

"We need to talk," Chris said quietly. When Vin opened his mouth to object, Chris added a whispered, "Please, Vin."

Vin's eyes widened for a moment. Then his features shifted back into a blank mask. "Talk then, but make it quick."

Chris sat, despair clawing at his soul. What the hell was he supposed to say that would make Vin want to stay. "I'm sorry," he began hesitantly. "For not listening to you. For not trusting you."

Vin regarded him silently.

Chris tried to carry on but the words seemed to stick in his throat. "Can we get down and talk?"

There were some things a man couldn't say from the back of a horse.

Vin nodded.

The two of them stood by the side of the track. Vin's face was set and grim, his eyes cold.

Chris suddenly knew if they parted ways here, he would never see Vin again. He would never see that beautiful mouth wearing its strange, sad smile, or the wry amusement light up those old/young eyes. He felt as if his heart was being ripped out of his chest. The fear that had paralysed his tongue until now, suddenly gave him the strength to speak.

"Do you remember when I asked why you took off with that Richmond woman?" Chris could recall the argument plainly. The others had made themselves scarce as the two men had let loose at one another. They'd been going at it for some time, with him doing most of the yelling, until finally Vin had stepped in close and hissed the answer.

"'Cause she needed me."

The words had slipped from him. "I need you, Vin."

The hardness had left Vin's face, replaced by a shadowed sorrow. "It ain't the same," he'd murmured. Then he'd walked away.

Chris's reply had followed the tracker's retreating back, so soft even the wind hadn't carried them. "Yes, yes it is."

Judging by Vin's current expression, he recalled the argument too. The younger man's mouth drew tight. "I think we're done here," he snapped, turning back toward his wagon.

"No!" The desperation in Chris's voice must have reached the tracker. Vin stopped and turned back to face him. "Please, let me finish."

Vin hesitated, then nodded curtly.

Chris went on, his voice raw with barely checked emotion. "You said it was because she wanted you, needed you. I said, I needed you. You said it wasn't the sam-"

"I remember," Vin cut in harshly. "What of it?"

Chris was dying inside. He was going to lose Vin, but he couldn't turn back, he could only go on, even though it was nearly killing him to do so. "I laid with Ella because I could, Vin. Because she was there, and I could have her." Despair strained his voice. "And I couldn't have the one I really wanted, and I was going mad from it."

Vin regarded him silently for a moment; his eyes held puzzled concern. Finally he spoke. "You didn't want her?"

Chris shook his head. "No."

Vin cocked his head to one side thoughtfully. "Mary," he guessed.

"No," said Chris softly.

Now Vin really did look confused. "Not Lydia?" he wondered aloud, stuck for any other female that Chris might have been keeping company with.

Chris simply shook his head again.

Vin's frown deepened. "Then who-" he began. Then he stopped, and looked at Chris. Really looked.

Chris stood steady against that painfully perceptive gaze.

Vin's expression turned wary. "Chris?" he whispered.

Chris felt the darkness closing around him as he uttered the words that would surely lose him this man's friendship forever. "You, Vin," he answered softly. "I wanted you."

He watched blue eyes widen in disbelief, then narrow into thin blue slits, blistering with rage. He was ready for the first blow when it came, but made no attempt to block it. He reckoned he owed Vin a couple of good punches. The fist that connected with his jaw rocked his head back. Chris bit down on his temper and readied himself for the next.

It didn't come.

Instead, Vin grabbed his shoulders with both hands and jerked him forwards. Chris prepared to be head-butted.

So he wasn't prepared for the fierce kiss that simultaneously stole the air from his lungs and turned his bones to water. Only the tracker's wiry strength kept him upright.

After a stunned moment or two, he came to his senses and steadied himself. He brought up his hands to pull Vin even closer, threading his fingers through those long, wild locks. Then he was kissing Vin back, just as fiercely, holding onto this moment as if it were the last he'd ever know.

The kiss only broke when both men finally had to draw air. Vin dropped his head against Chris's shoulder, muttering, "Bastard....wanted this .... Ought to have known ....Wanted you ...Bastard ....Bastard....Need this..."

Chris stroked Vin's back, trying to soothe away the tremors that shook the younger man. He was too stunned to speak. Vin wanted him?

They stood together a while, each savouring the contact, until Chris became mindful of their position by the roadside. He decided they'd better continue this in a more private setting. Giving Vin's shoulder a gentle squeeze, he whispered a soft, "Hey?" to get his friend's attention.

Vin raised his head "Is this real?" He seemed dazed.

Chris tried a reassuring smile. It came out a little shaky, due in no small part to the distraction of Vin's kiss-swollen mouth, and also to his own lingering uncertainties. Did Vin really want this?

"Do you want it to be?" he asked.

"More than life," Vin answered fervently.

Chris nearly sagged in relief. Vin smiled. Chris felt his own lips curl up in response. Vin leaned forward to kiss him again.

"Like this," he murmured.kiss "Like doin' this." kiss "Like bein' able to do this." kiss

Chris couldn't have agreed more. Vin tasted like mountain rivers and honey - crisp, cold, and sweet. "Come out to my place?" he offered. Pleased that his voice sounded so calm.

Vin nodded. "Sounds good."

Vin stepped back and Chris instantly mourned the loss. He'd relished the sensation of the tracker's lean, hard body, pressed tight against his own. Now deprived of that contact, the pain in his side began making fresh demands on his attention. He struggled to hide a grimace, but Vin spotted it instantly.

The younger man didn't bother asking for permission. Tugging Chris's shirt aside he frowned at the fresh blood staining the bandages. "Maybe we'd best get you back to Nathan's."

"My cabin," said Chris, adamant.

Vin shook his head. "Goddam, stubborn, tight-assed gunslinger."

Chris couldn't help himself. "You noticed my ass?" he teased.

To his delight, Vin blushed.

"Be hard not to," the younger man muttered. "Don't know how you get in them damn pants. Wonder you can move."

"Oh, I can move," Chris leered, loss of blood and sheer happiness making him light-headed. He attempted to demonstrate his abilities, but froze with a gasp as the pain blossomed in his side.

Vin gave him a long look, then shook his head. "You're delirious."

"Hmm," Chris agreed. "Deliriously happy." Truth-be-told, he was feeling somewhat punch-drunk.

He was trying to remember if Nathan had slipped him anything, when the world suddenly tilted alarmingly. The last thing he heard as he sank into the darkness, was Vin, frantically calling his name.

Chapter XVII

"Chris? Chris!" Vin caught hold of his friend's body, unable to prevent the fall, but managing to slow the descent.

"Shit," he muttered feelingly, as they both ended up in the dirt. Chris's body was half-draped across his legs and chest. "Heavier than you look," Vin complained as he wiggled free. "Gonna hafta stay away from them scones, Cowboy."

Kneeling beside his friend's unconscious body, scared by Chris's pallor, Vin's brevity left him. He lay his hand against his friend's cheek - warm, but not worryingly so. He took a closer look at the bandages. They were spotted with fresh blood, but it didn't look too serious. Nathan had said the wound was minor, so chances were, Chris had just overdone it by riding out after him.

Cursing Chris, and himself, Vin managed to get the gunslinger hoisted over his shoulder. He deposited him in the back of the wagon, then got in beside him. He took a moment to get Chris secured and comfortable, covering him up with his coat. Chris stirred and muttered.

Now, what to do? Take Chris back to Nathan? Or out to the cabin? Vin sighed and ran a hand through his tangled hair. "

"Hmm.....Vin," Chris mumbled, still lost in his own semi- conscious world. "Hmm, Vin, want....you...."

Vin's eyebrows lifted. O-Kay, that decided it. They were going out to the cabin. He could always ride out to fetch Nathan later if need be.

He tied Belle to the back of the wagon and set off toward Chris's place.

+ + + + + + +

Chris was more-or-less conscious by the time they arrived at the cabin. He raised his head as Vin clambered up beside him.

"Why are we in your wagon?"

"'Cause I wasn't draggin' your sorry ass all the way here."

"I couldn't ride?" Chris seemed genuinely puzzled.

Vin snorted. "You could, if I'd wanted 'ta keep stoppin' to pick you outta the dirt." He tried to check Chris's wound.

Chris glared, pushing the tracker's hands away. "Quit yer flappin'. You're worse than Nathan. It's just a fucking graze."

"A graze," Vin muttered. "That's why you keeled over, 'cause it's 'just a fuckin' graze'."

"I passed out?" Chris's voice echoed his disbelief.

"No," Vin's voice dripped sarcasm, "you slept-walked inta my wagon."

Chris glowered. "Well, you gonna help me out?"

Vin did so, muttering about ungrateful gunslingers and their sorry- assed ways. Chris groused back at him as the pair made their way inside.

The familiar bickering soothed Vin's jagged nerves; his hands were shaking as he guided Chris over to the bed. "Them bandages need changin'. You got anythin' I can use?"

"It don't need fussin' with," Chris growled. "Just pour me a drink."

Vin left his friend and began rummaging in the cupboard. He pulled out a sheet. "Can I use this?"

"You hard of hearin'? I said-"

"I heard what ya said," Vin responded mildly. "Can I use this?" he repeated.

Chris cursed and nodded, trying to get up.

Vin was beside him in a second. "Goin' somewhere?"

"Drink," Chris snapped.

Vin rolled his eyes and retrieved the bottle and two glasses from across the room. He poured the gunslinger a drink. "Here, now will ya shut up and let me see to yer side?" It wasn't a request.

Chris's eyes narrowed to angry green slits; if he'd been a cat, he'd have been swishing his tail, Vin thought. He waited until Chris had finished, then he took the empty glass and set it aside. Taking a mouthful of his own drink, he dipped his fingers in the remainder to clean them. "Lay down," he told his friend.

Chris lay down with a hiss of annoyance.

//Yep,// Vin mused //like a pissed off cougar.// He wondered if it was pain, or the sudden shift in their relationship that was making the other man snappish. The thought that it might be the latter sent a swell of near panic surging through him.

Maybe Chris didn't want this after all? He'd been acting kind of strange just before he'd keeled over. Men said strange things when they were in a delirium. Maybe he hadn't meant what he'd said. Chris hadn't seemed that out of it, but-

"Hey?"

Chris's soft voice startled him out of his reverie.

"You gonna patch me up or just sit there and watch me bleed?"

Vin ducked his head to hide the flush that stained his cheeks. Dammit, what was wrong with him? He'd finally been given the one thing he'd wanted for what felt like forever, and he was falling apart.

Hands shaking, he helped Chris take off his shirt and removed the old bandage. After wiping the wound down with whiskey, he redressed it with the torn strips of sheet.

Chris hissed and grimaced during the process, but the wound didn't look that bad. Vin noted with relief that the bleeding had stopped, and there was no sign of inflammation. His fingers skimmed Chris's side, feeling body heat but no fever.

Vin suddenly realised he was practically stroking Chris's bare skin, and he pulled back as if stung.

"'S'nice," Chris muttered. He was lying, eyes closed, relaxed; the earlier anger had apparently seeped away.

Vin knelt next to the bed, feeling more uncertain than he'd ever felt in his life. He didn't know what Chris wanted. Did he just want to fuck?

Vin knew fucking - plain and simple; knew it could be good, or it could hurt like hell. Though even when he'd lain with someone who'd cared something for his wants and needs, there had never been any tender words or touches.

He'd never known that simply touching someone could feel so good. He tried to imagine how Chris's hands might feel upon him.Hell, yes. He wanted this, wanted it desperately. Need made him bold, and mindful of Chris's wound, he reached out again.

Chapter XVIII

The pain in Chris's side had eased to a persistent throb. The ache was an annoyance, but it wasn't discomforting enough to dull his excitement as Vin's fingers ghosted across his skin. The touch was tentative, and he willed himself not to move, afraid that he'd startle Vin into stopping.

Gentle fingers skimmed his ribs, and then, after a moments hesitation, they moved up and across his chest. They skirted carefully around a nipple, before, seemingly emboldened, they returned to brush across it. Chris sucked in a gasp, as the touch sent a jolt through his body. The ache in his side was all but forgotten. He could feel himself getting hard, and he bit his lip to hold back a moan.

Warm, calloused fingers were cautiously teasing his nipple, as if it were some rare and treasured thing. At length, the sweet torment became too much, and Chris opened his eyes. He caught an expression so reverent, so awestruck, it almost hurt to look upon it.

Vin sensed the shift in mood instantly. He looked at Chris wide eyed and wary; his hand frozen where it lay.

"Don't stop," said Chris hoarsely. "Feels good."

"Yeah?" Vin's voice was even softer than usual.

Chris nodded. Now that he was allowing himself to look, he took his time, studying Vin's face. He thought he knew all its expressions, but he'd never seen Vin like this - eyes bright, cheeks flushed, white teeth worrying the bottom lip. Nervous and wanton all at once.

Chris's gaze journeyed back to that finely drawn mouth. "You gonna kiss me again?"

Wide eyes grew even wider, and a tongue flickered out to wet nibbled lips. Then Vin smiled - an almost feral look over mapping his wariness. "Sure," he offered easily; the casual air somewhat ruined by the shudder that ran though the hand resting on Chris's chest.

Chris leaned upward as Vin moved closer, neither man took his gaze off the other. He could feel the younger man's breath, tingling against his lips. Almost...almost...

He stretched up a little more, and-

-Nothing.

His lips connected with empty air, as the door suddenly flew open, and Vin jerked backwards like he'd been lassoed.

Chris cursed as Buck's jovial voice called out.

"Chris, you home?"

The big man came into view. He saw Chris on the bed and Vin on the floor and he frowned. "Howdy, boys. Everything okay?"

"It was," Chris muttered under his breath. He was pleased to see Vin's quick grin as the young man ducked his head.

Buck held up a package. "Nathan got to worryin' after you'd gone. Man was tyin' himself up in knots, goin' on 'bout your wound. He was comin' after ya, but I said I thought you'd come here, and told him I'd bring ya this."

He handed the package to Vin, who'd picked himself up off the floor.

"There's some laudanum, some fresh bandages, and some ointment he says to put on when you change 'em."

"Thanks, Buck," said Chris, realising his friend was here out of concern, not curiosity.

"So," Buck continued. "You two settled things yet?" He looked at Vin. "You ain't still leavin'?"

Vin glanced at Chris briefly. As their eyes met he flushed and looked away, fixing his gaze on the floor. "Reckon not," he mumbled.

Buck made no attempt to disguise his relief. "Well thank Moses' blessin' for that. Though," he added, stepping closer. "I'm a might hurt that you'd high tail out without sayin' goodbye."

Vin's flush deepened. "Never thought to upset no-one," he rasped softly.

Buck lowered his voice to match Vin's. "You didn't think we'd care 'bout you goin'?"

Vin didn't answer. His gaze remained locked on the floor.

Gently, knowing how easily Vin spooked, Buck lay a large hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Son, you gotta understand. We're friends, and friends feel for one another. That means, if you'd left, we'd have missed havin' you around."

Chris could see Vin was floundering. He'd surmised sometime ago that the quiet-spoken tracker didn't have much experience of friendship. He decided to spare Vin any further discomfort. "Buck. Thanks. And tell Nathan I'm fine. Just need to rest up for a few days."

Buck nodded. "You stayin' to keep an eye on him, Vin?"

The innocent question had the already flushed tracker turning crimson.

Chris jumped in quickly. "Yep, he is."

"Well then, I guess I'll be goin'." Buck gave Vin's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Good luck, he's twice as 'ornery when he's achin'."

"Goodbye, Buck," said Chris meaningfully.

Buck grinned. "Play nicely, boys. Keep them guns holstered. Nathan won't want to be pokin' any more bullets out of ya. I'll be taking Belle back, Chris. I rode Pony here."

"Bye, Buck."

Chris exhaled in relief as his friend finally took the hint and left. He returned his attention to Vin.

When Buck had withdrawn his hand, the young man had sidled away. He now slouched against the furthermost wall.

Catching Vin's gaze, Chris patted the space him. "You're awful far away over there, pard. You thinkin' of comin' back over here?"

Vin's gaze flickered from Chris's face, to the bed, and then back again. "Ain't much room."

Chris edged sideways. "That enough?"

Vin moved away from the wall and removed his hat, coat, and boots, strewing them carelessly about the floor. Unbuckling his mare's leg, he hung it on the chair next to the bed. The mattress dipped slightly as he lay down.

Chris eyed the rigidly held body. He'd never seen Vin this tense going into a gunfight. "I don't bite," he offered easily. Then, unable to help himself, he added with a slight leer, "'Less of course, you want me to?"

Vin didn't respond to the teasing, and Chris was seized by a sharp stab of worry. "Hey, Cowboy. You sure you want this?" Blue eyes turned to face him. Chris could see the uncertainty clouding the usually clear gaze and his heart contracted painfully. "Vin?"

"I know what I want," the younger man responded calmly. "I jist ain't sure what you want."

Chris frowned. "That's no answer."

"Maybe not," Vin acknowledged.

Chris felt the first, faint stirring of a headache. This wasn't exactly how he'd envisioned things when he'd invited Vin into his bed. The past few hours had sorely tested his spirit, and right now he was barely holding back the urge to shake the tracker until his teeth rattled.

His annoyance receded as he recalled the kiss by the roadside; Chris knew he hadn't imagined that near desperate fervour. He tried to work out the cause of this sudden hesitancy. What had he done to so unsettle the man lying beside him?

Vin said he knew what he wanted. From that kiss, and the frenzied muttering that had accompanied it, Chris was fairly confident that what Vin wanted was him. Okay, so Vin wanted him, and he wanted Vin. Where then, was the problem?

He thought back to Vin's fervent declaration - 'more than life'. He could still see the wild, dazed look in the young man's eyes. He thought of his own overwhelming relief, knowing that Vin shared his feelings.

Feelings?

It came to Chris then, with a shiver of apprehension. As of yet, neither man had spoken of their feelings out loud. He'd told Vin he wanted him. Well, hell. Half of Texas had probably said that. Vin was, as even Buck had noted, 'right purty lookin' for a fella.' Chris smiled inwardly, as he recalled advising Buck against saying anything similar around Vin if he valued his own good looks.

Perhaps it was time, as Ezra might say, to show his hand?

"Vin?" Chris waited until the younger man turned to face him, wearing an expression that was both wary and watchful. The blue eyes seemed nearly black in the shadows of the room. Chris smiled. "I know what I want. Don't know if I know how to say it though."

Dark eyes darted over his face. Chris remained still under that searching gaze. Finally, Vin gave a hesitant half-smile.

"'S'okay, Cowboy. Words ain't ever meant that much to me anyhow." A pause, then, "D'ya reckon maybe ya could show me?" The last was said almost shyly; as if, even now, Vin feared rejection.

Chris's smile grew. "Reckon maybe I could."

Vin moved to sit up, then stopped, resting on his elbows. "I forgot, yer hurt. Maybe we should wait a while."

Chris scowled. "You do, and I won't be the only fella in this bed with a bullet hole in him."

Vin's worried expression shifted into a sly grin. "Reckon Bucklin was right. Yer a mean tempered bastard when yer hurtin'."

"I ain't hurtin'," Chris denied. "Least I wouldn't be, if you'd quit yappin' and get some clothes off." He had to bite his lip to hold back a chuckle as Vin flushed and scrambled off the bed. The tracker stood, looking ill at ease. "I can close my eyes if it'll help," Chris offered dryly. He didn't understand how a man who thought nothing of bathing in a river could be so shy about stripping off.

Vin glowered, but began to undo the buttons on his shirt. "This ain't no damn peep show. You jist gonna lay there an' watch, Larabee, or you gonna take them pants off?"

Chris touched the bandage on his side. "I'm a wounded man, remember. Think I'll have to have to get me some help with these." He let his hand slide down and across his groin, smiling as he watched Vin's eyes avidly following his every move.

In truth, Chris wasn't sure he was up to this. His wound ached fiercely. That, and lack of sleep and loss blood, had his body screaming for rest. However, he'd waited so long to touch this man, he'd be damned if he was going to let a little thing like a hole in his side stop him.

Vin had reached the last shirt button; however, it seemed to be eluding the tracker's usually deft touch. As long fingers fussed and fiddled with it, Chris grew impatient. Clenching his teeth against the ache in his side he stood up. "Need a hand with that?" he asked, reaching out.

Vin stepped back. "I can do it," he muttered.

Chris raised his hands appeasingly. "Fine, but just so you know, I'm not gettin' any younger here." Instead of the teasing retort he expected from such an opening, Chris received a scowl. Christ. This was like walking through a field full of rattlesnakes. He wondered what he'd done now to raise the tracker's hackles. "Something botherin' you, Cowboy?"

Vin's reply was unintelligible.

"Say again?" Chris asked.

"Ain't gonna wear no dress for ya."

Blond eyebrows crept upward. "Don't recall asking you to," said Chris evenly.

Vin was still tugging on the last button, his head bowed. "Ain't one of them 'funny cowboys' either. Ain't wearin' no dress. I ain't no woman."

Chris was amused by the muttered tirade, but he decided he'd better tread cautiously. Vin had too many old hurts, he didn't want to chance prodding any. Maybe the recent deception had stirred up an unpleasant memory for the reticent tracker.

He decided to set his friend's mind at rest. "Vin," he began gently, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. "I reckon even blind drunk and half dead, I could tell you ain't no woman." Listening to Vin's muttered cursing, he couldn't help but add, "And God knows, you ain't no lady."

The scowl deepened, but Vin had at long last finished doing battle with his button, and he finally shuck the shirt.

Chris's amusement faded, as the breath caught in his throat. Beautiful wasn't a word that should apply to a man, but in truth, he could think of no other more fitting. Supple muscle and smooth skin; even the scars that decorated Vin's arms and chest detracted nothing from his natural state. Strong and sinewy, built like a cat, all sleekness, with not a spare ounce of flesh anywhere.

He let his gaze glide upward, and felt a nudge of concern. Vin's face appeared smooth, almost devoid of expression, but shadows lurked behind the younger man's eyes. Chris was suddenly hit by something he hadn't previously considered.

"You ever done this before?"

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