Sequel to Ties That Bind
Rating: NC-17/Slash
Pairing: C/E, implied B/JD
Disclaimer: I do not make any claims to having rights to (or ever having rights to) the characters and premise of "Magnificent Seven". I am merely borrowing them to let them have a little fun (and if anyone else enjoys it, so be it. ;).
Notes: Thanks to Judy's amazing encouragement and comments, I decided to post this one as well. This story is the sequel to "The Ties that Bind", and follows it a couple of days after the events in that one. It contains explicit m/m sexual descriptions, so if ya don't like that, amscray. Any and all comments, good or bad, are welcome & greatly appreciated. I hope you enjoy this!
ONE
Ezra double-checked the rawhide strips that he had fastened to the back of the chair, pulling back on them while he braced the wood with his feet. A sly smile crossed his face as nothing gave an inch. He knew he didn't have the same strength as his prey, but he was close enough for a test. As long as they held tonight. That was all that had mattered.It had taken a few days to get the details straight in his mind, but Ezra was confident of his plan. He well remembered the pleasures of anticipation he had recieved. It was his intention to pay back his lover ten-fold. And then some. After all, the morning after that incredible night he'd spent tied to his bed, Ezra had awoken to find that his lover had decided on a quick breakfast before leaving to go check on the ranchers outside of town. And he had been the meal of the day. And even though Ezra had been pleasured more than he would have believed, he'd then been left alone for two days, with nothing but his planning to keep him company.
Ezra moved over to the table in the room, making sure all was as he needed it. Looking out the window into the street, the smile turned positively evil as he spotted his prey, the black clothes he wore covered in dust. The man was dirty and tired, if his slumped posture in the saddle was anything to judge. The man needed cleaning and some tender care. Ezra silently promised he'd get it. And a lot more.
+ + + + + + +
Chris Larabee tried in vain to brush away some of the dust from his clothing, watching it fly into the air only to settle back down onto him. The gunman held back a sigh as he slid from the saddle, his body threatening to just keep on sliding down into a heap on the ground. Chris silently cursed himself, shaking his head in disgust. There had been a time, not so long ago, when he would have been able to spend a week in the saddle and felt no pain. Now, after a mere two days, his body was loudly telling him those days were long gone. The lingering pain of injuries long since gone haunted him when the weather turned colder, or just when his body felt it had been used too harshly. Larabee hated to face the fact, but he was getting.... old.
Forcing his body to obey his commands, Chris straightened up and pushed himself away from his equally weary mount. The gelding was getting old as well. <Just like me,> Chris thought. The gunman shook his head sharply, trying to throw the self-pitying thoughts from his mind. All he suceeded in doing was throwing another cloud of dust up around him. A slight chuckle came up from behind him. For a moment, Chris thought of just ignoring it, but he knew that laugh. And he knew the owner would not be hesitant to voice his opinions whether or not the gunman turned around, so he might as well face it. Putting all his tiredeness aside, Chris turned the full force of his glare over to the smiling mustached countenance of his long-time friend.
"You look like you brought half the dust of the desert back with you, old dog. You do anything âÆÆsides roll around in the dirt?" Chris just shook his head, making sure to do it forcefully enough that some of that said dirt when settling off in Buck's direction. Wilmington lightly brushed at his hat, smiling. Chris noticed that it was a rather sly smile. Something was up, but he was too damned tired for guessing games.
"I'll talk to ya later, Buck. Right now, all I'm interested in is a bed, a bath, and some whiskey. Not necessarily in that order." Chris watched as Wilmington's lips twitched with the need to smile. Something big was definitely going on.
"Well, you're gonna have to wait on the bath," Buck replied, finishing as Chris raised an eyebrow in his direction with, "Terrence had ta leave to go over to Eagle Bend on some legal stuff. Be back tomorrow, though." Chris swore and slapped his thigh, no longer caring at the dust that rose off him.
"To hell with it, then. I'll just use the basin. Night, Buck." Wilmington watched as Chris grabbed his saddlebags off the horse before throwing a penny at the hostler as he took the reins. The other man waited until the black-clad gunslinger was out of earshot before letting out a long chuckle. He hoped he'd bought Ezra enough time. The gambler had promised him ample retribution for his help in this plan, and Buck couldn't wait until he collected. With Ezra dealing, his next poker game with JD should bring some very interesting <and entertaining,> results.
+ + + + + + +
Chris rubbed the back of his neck absently as he made his way up the stairs to his room. Buck's manner was eating away at his brain. He knew something was about to bust wide open, and he knew Buck was helping it along. He just didn't know what. He should talk to someone who had been in town. JD....no, where Buck was involved it was pretty certain that JD would be in too. Vin and Josiah had been out helping Nettie Wells for the past week and Nathan had gone out to the Sutter's to help with the birth of their first child. That left Ezra.
As soon as the name hit his thoughts, Chris felt a shudder go through his body. The same shudder that had passed through him every time he thought about the gambler. The images had kept him company those two days out on the trail. Mostly, the images remained of their last time together. Chris had awoken early to get a head start, but couldn't stop himself from touching his lover. Ever since they had been together, Chris had had that problem. The remembered sight of Ezra, head thrown back in the early morning light, sweat coming off his body to soak the bed. His feet had still been tied to the bed from their round of love-making the previous night.
Now that was something Chris hadn't counted on. He had tried it once before with a woman when he was 15... The gunman preferred not to think about that. As such, Chris had been a bit doubtful when Ezra had suggested the idea. Now, however, he wouldn't trade those memories for anything. The need and hunger that had filled Ezra's eyes that night had kept him warm throughout the nights he'd spent on the trail.
Chris shifted a bit as he reached his door. It seemed that warmth was returning and spreading elsewhere. Using one hand, after a careful look-around, Chris undid the top few buttons on his pants, sighing with relief as the pressure lessened against his awakening flesh. Chris had been sure that after a bath (or a wiping off, as was to be the case now), a bed would have been his next choice. However, Chris knew he didn't want an empty bed. Chris needed his lover, desperately. Needed to hold him and be held; kiss and be kissed; love....and be loved. A wide grin made its way through the heavy layer of dust on his person. Yes, after he cleaned up, he'd seek out Ezra. He could get re-acquainted with his lover and learn what Buck was up to at the same time.
Unlocking the door in front of him, Chris pushed it open and stepped inside the small room he rented, eager to wash up and go find his lover. As soon as he turned to close the door, Chris felt himself slammed against the wood as a body was pressed up against his. Before he could react, a warm tongue was making its way across the back of his neck. Chris smiled and whispered the one word that was always in his mind, his heart, his dreams...
"Ezra....."
TWO
Ezra felt the man in front of him begin to relax, letting his arms drop from the defensive position he had taken upon being surprised by the gambler. Chris whispered his name again and Ezra felt a shudder pass through his frame, the motion echoed by the gunman. Moving slowly, the gambler brought his hands up to touch the hard body he had longed for. The saddlebags were pushed off the quivering shoulder to lay forgotten on the floor. The hat was removed to be hung on a peg on the left side of the door.Chris stood as still as possible as Ezra's hands were seemingly everywhere at once. A touch here, a caress there.... Each brush or squeeze taking more tension away from his aching muscles. He allowed the gambler to pull his duster from him, hearing it thud to the floor on the other side of the room. Then, Ezra's tongue was back at his neck, followed by a small grunt. Chris felt hot breath on his ear as Ezra leaned up, his voice full of southern honey and humor as he whispered to him.
"Mr. Larabee, as much as I would love to lick every inch of your body, I simply cannot do it when you taste of the accursed dirt that covers this charming locality." Chris shivered at the mental image he produced with Ezra's words.Turning to try and capture those lips that had tauntingly been kept from his reach, Chris stared hard into the green eyes of his lover.
"So, what you planning to do âÆÆbout that?" His voice, normally low, was now harsh and throaty with the need that was growing in his flesh. The gunman felt Ezra back away and turned to follow the movement with his eyes, raking them up and down the lean form of the gambler's body. His flesh flared hotter and he found himself unable to resist that beckoning finger that Ezra crooked, calling him towards the table that held a basin, pitcher, and several soft rags. Not that this was anything new. Chris had found that he was hard put to resist the gambler in anything. He only hoped Ezra never found out. Lord, what the man could do if he only knew the power he held over him.
Ezra reached out to brush at some of the dust on Chris' shirt, a grimace growing on his face as the powder flew up and settled again. Shaking his head, the gambler backed away a bit and reached up to slowly shrug his way out of the red jacket he wore. Chris' eyes followed the play of the muscles in his chest as he moved, carefully folding the precious garment and laying it on the dresser. Then, with a sly smile, Ezra let his fingers drift up across his stomach, flirting dangerously with both his lover and the buttons on his white shirt. Deep green eyes met even darker green eyes as the two watched each other.
Chris's fingers itched to be helping his lover as Ezra popped the first three buttons. The view he had of the other's well-muscled chest was limited, but stunning none-the-less. It never ceased to amaze the gunman as to how well built Ezra really was. Not that he was, or ever would, be complaining. Chris made a silent vow as the gambler finished unbuttoning his shirt to check out the cards the southener used the next chance he got. They had to weigh over a hundred pounds to produce muscles like that.
Grasping the edges of his shirt, Ezra slowly slid it over his shoulders and off, turning to fold it and place it atop the jacket. When he turned back, Ezra made sure to stretch as much of his body as possible. A chuckle threatened to come out from his closed lips as he caught a glimpse of his lover. Chris was fairly quivering, his fists tightened as he hungrily let his eyes feast on the ample view of Ezra's flesh. The gambler felt a fresh wave of arousal hit his already throbbing member and slowly counted to ten, waiting for the intense sensations to subside to bearable levels. Once he could remember how to walk again, Ezra made his way across to where Chris stood.
The gunman tried to breathe. In, out, in out. That certainly wasn't going to help him calm down. Chris watched as Ezra walked up to him, placing his hands on his chest as he stretched his body along him, leaning up to take his mouth. The man moved like a damned cat, Chris thought. So graceful, so smooth. For a moment, Chris thought the other man would begin purring. But the gunman found he was the one making noise, the small moan coming off his lips as Ezra quickly undid the buttons on his shirt, pushing it down and off his body.
Ezra disposed of the shirt, not giving a second thought to where it landed he threw it away from them. He never tired of looking at his lover's body. It was covered in scars, true, but the scars were merely a map of the gunman's life. A map through all the hell he'd gone through to finally wind up here, in the gambler's arms. Ezra splayed his hands across the firm chest, feeling the other man arch into the touch as the pebbled flesh of his nipples hardened under the gambler's palms. Keeping one hand on him, Ezra reached back and grabbed a cloth. He dipped it in the water and then brought it out, the sound of the water dripping from it the only other sound in the room aside from their own breath, whispery and panting. The southener held the rag in his hand a bit longer, letting the heat of his flesh warm the dampness.
Chris arched again as Ezra finally brought the wet rag to his skin. The touch wasn't cold, but it was unexpected. The southener began to move the cloth in long strokes down his back. Chris stood still as Ezra walked around to stand behind him, using both hands on the rag to scrub the tension and dirt from his body. Those talented fingers, so adept at the cards, and even more so in pleasuring his lover, were like magic on his skin. They lingered here, brushed there, constantly moving over his flesh. Chris heard the rag being dipped in the water again. A hot breath of warning was all he got before he felt Ezra's mouth back at his neck, moving down to suckle the skin of his back and shoulders. A moan of approval came from both men.
"Much better," Ezra whispered, his voice heavy with arousal as he raised up to nip at Chris' ear. The gunman turned slowly into the caress, feeling Ezra's hands on his shoulders as he guided the man to complete the turn with his whole body. Chris willingly complied, finally moving around enough to latch onto Ezra's mouth. The gunman was quick to take advantage of his position, pressing his tongue deep into the honey-filled depths of that warm, wet cavern. Ezra was tempted to lose himself in that heat. Just let the game end. No, he firmly told his body. Tonight, it was Chris's turn. It took several such internal arguments between his two heads before he tore himself away from Chris' kiss.
Grabbing the cloth again, Ezra placed it on Chris' chest. He hadn't warmed it this time and the water was cool. Chris hissed, and Ezra quickly decided that the sound of the air whistling past Chris' teeth as he threw his head back in pleasure was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever heard. Ezra's green eyes flicked behind his lover, noticing the chair was perfectly lined up. With a smile, he began to set the next step of his plan in motion.
Chris backed up unconsciously, letting the southener steer him as the man's hands roamed over his chest in a repeat performance of what had already been done to his back. The soft, wet cloth swiped over his flesh, catching at his hardening nipples, the cool dampness making them twinge with pleasure. The gunman was glad he had loosened his pants earlier; his steadily growing erection was still pressing against the fabric, but had he left them completely done, he would be in agony by now. As if reading his thoughts, Ezra moved his free hand down, working the fabric open further.
The gunman felt something bump against the back of his legs and, before he could turn to look, Ezra finished pushing him down into the chair. Chris sighed as the wet cloth worked loose the grime on his skin and the tightness of his muscles. The blonde melted into the chair. And just as quickly sat up, hissing as Ezra's hand finally closed over his swollen flesh. The southener's hand was cool from the water, and Chris would almost swear that he heard his heated skin hiss like hot metal in a forge at the contact. The gambler worked him slowly, keeping his hands constantly moving as he moved around behind the gunman.
Chris felt Ezra pushing at the his black jeans from behind the chair and helpfully raised his hips, allowing the gambler to push them completely down his body. The hardness of the chair was cool against his bare flesh as he lowered himself. The cool air hit his excited body like a bolt of lighting, and Chris couldn't stop the shiver that shook him. The gunman closed his eyes as Ezra ran the cloth down his arms, drawing them back behind them. A small rustling noise caught his attention, and his eyes opened as he felt Ezra's hands on his wrists... But, it was too late. As Ezra moved away from the chair, Chris strained at the rawhide straps that now held his arms tied to the back of the chair.
"Ezra," Chris growled, but he was cut short by the gambler's laughter and pleased smile.
"Now, Mr. Larabee, this is for your own good. I didn't want you to become impatient and begin without me. You see, sir, I just figured that since you are now bathed and clean, you might like me to be in the same state." Chris watched as Ezra dropped the cloth he'd been holding and his hands immediately went to his belt. Within a matter of seconds, Chris' eyes were focused on the impressive sight of the gambler's naked form. A sigh crossed his lips as he felt an answering shudder pass through his hard length. He grew even harder knowing he couldn't do anything to ease that ache in his groin. If this was what Ezra had felt that one night, Chris could see where that look of hunger and need had come from.
THREE
Ezra nonchalantly grabbed a new cloth and soaked it in the basin, moving without embarrassment or pause, as if stripping and bathing another man, and then doing the same to himself, were things he did every day. Ezra didn't take the time to heat the cloth in his hands before he was running it over his flesh. The gambler shivered and moaned slightly, playing the cloth over his flesh as much as possible before re-wetting it. His face was flushed with his evident arousal, and his body began to shine from the wet bath it was recieving.Chris' body was beginning to shine a bit as well. A light sheen of sweat covered him as he fought back the need to seek release. Fought back the begging words for touch in his throat. He couldn't stand to look, but he couldn't look away. The gambler's skin seemed to glow from the attention it was recieving. Finally, Ezra's hands strayed lower on his body, the rag dancing playfully about his groin. It momentarily hid the other man's magnificent show of arousal from Chris' searching eyes, rubbing sensuosly over the heated flesh.
A pair of groans filled the air as Ezra moved his hand over his own hardness, locking eyes with his lover as his hips began to thrust. Chris cursed silently as those eyes then slid closed. He watched as a seemingly internal argument was held inside the gambler's head before Ezra tore his hands away from his own body, sitting down suddenly on the bed directly opposite from the chair he was in. The cloth dropped from his hand, and Chris could see how much the other man shook with the effort to hold back his release.
Ezra licked his lips, smiling slightly as he saw Chris' eyes trace that movement. Slowly, he pushed away from the object that held him grounded on this side of orgasm, walking the short distance between him and his lover. He eyed Chris's straining flesh before offering up a predatory smile.
"It seems you are in need of a bit more cleaning, Mr. Larabee." The gambler fell to his knees, spreading Chris' legs far apart to admit his body. Chris wasn't prepared for the first touch of that hot tongue on his body. It started low, lighting fast touches on his inner thighs. The gunman was bucking against it by the time Ezra reached the pendulous sacks, heavy with Chris' need. He drew them into his mouth one at a time, coaxing moan after moan from his lover.
"Ezra...please....aww, damn!" Chris begged, ending in a groan as Ezra finally took pity on him. The gambler quickly moved up and engulfed the older man's raging erection. He relaxed his throat and sank the shaft completely into his mouth. Chris cried out at the sudden pleasure, trying desperately to hold back the flood that was already leaking from his hardened member. Ezra's hands were still busy with the rest of his body, and Chris began to jerk under the onslaught. The gambler slid his tongue out in long curling strokes around Chris' length, and the gunman began to moan steadily. Wrapping one hand around the base of his lover's shaft, Ezra moved his other hand below. Slowly, he began to tease Chris' sensitive opening while stroking with his hand and latching his lips around the swollen head. His tongue lashed out to lap at the prominent swell of the crown, dipping underneath to the ridge.
Chris' loud cry filled the air as he finally gave in to the combined pleasures his body had been recieving. Ezra quickly locked his lips tightly to the length in his mouth as it began to twitch and pulse, sending several long streams of liquid fire down his throat. As Chris went limp in the chair, Ezra pulled his mouth away, licking his lips to catch every last drop as he reached around and untied his lover from the chair, trying to catch his breath.
Suddenly, Ezra found himself being propelled backwards, his bare backside feeling the soft rustle of the sheets on the bed. His eyes snapped open and he gazed into the passion soaked eyes of his lover. Chris' mouth was fierce on his, claiming, branding, owning him. Ezra gave in to the feelings, knowing his plan was done for the moment. Chris moved completely on top of him, pressing him into the bed harder. A groan broke through Ezra's lips as Chris moved to lap at his chest, finally tasting what he'd been wanting to for so long. His lips latched onto a nipple, lavishing the same fiery attention on it as had been paid to his body.
Ezra felt something brush his thigh and tried to feel it again, moving slightly. Chris mouth was back up at his once more as the gunman's body moved up. The other man was like a storm, consuming, powerful, amazing. Every touch was tinged with the lighting of pleasure. Each sound produced by the two men echoed by the low, rumbling thunder of a growl or groan. Ezra gasped as he felt something hard move along his length. Chris smiled as he moved his hips again. The gambler arched his body into the contact as the older man's renewed erection moved against his. Definitely something to this waiting business, Ezra thought lightly, his brain concentrating on the pleasure coming up from his groin. Chris' length was still wet from his earlier release and the tactics Ezra had used to produce said release. As such, it slid along Ezra's own hardness with ease, teasing and touching in all the right places.
Chris watched the gambler as he thrashed about in the ecstacy of feeling hot swollen flesh against hot swollen flesh. Ezra began to cry out his name, and Chris suddenly found out that hearing his name in that southern drawal was the sweetest sound he had heard. Ezra was bucking forcefully up into Chris' downward thrusts. The gunman began to move faster as both approached the edge. Moving suddenly, Chris dropped his body down and sank his mouth down onto Ezra's shaft. The unexpected wet warmth was too much and Ezra exploded, the force driving down Larabee's body to set off his own release without so much as a touch. Chris eagerly drank in everything the gambler offered him, feeling the tension fade completely from both men as they rode the slow spiral of orgasm back down to earth.
Ezra panted heavily, trying valiantly to get air back into his lungs as Chris moved his mouth away from his softening flesh. The gunman lapped the sweat away from his lover's body as he moved slowly upwards, releshing the combination of the salty flavors in his mouth. Finally, Chris placed his lips on top of Ezra's, coaxing them open with a gentle touch.
All the air that Ezra had suceeded in retrieving was drawn out of him in the slow, thorough explanation the gunman was making of his mouth. The gambler could taste his own essence on his lover's tongue, mixing with the gunman's own unique taste. It was more intoxicating than the strongest liquor, and Ezra believed he was becoming quite addicted to the taste. He found himself gasping again as Chris broke from his mouth and moved to nuzzle his neck, feeling the gunman breathe deeply of his scent. Ezra reached a hand up to lay it on his lover's head, running his fingers through the soft hair.
"I do believe you're going to be the death of me, Chris," he whispered, smiling to himself as he added a little after-thought. But what a way to go! Ezra felt the rush of warm air on his throat as Chris chuckled.
"Well, with age comes experience." Chris punctuated the remark with a quick nip of his teeth to Ezra's muscled chest, followed by a slow lick of his tongue to smooth the offended skin. Ezra arched his back into the caress, moaning deep in his throat. Chris could hear the smile in the gambler's voice as he chuckled.
"In that case, Mr. Larabee, I can hardly wait until you get older." Ezra pulled Chris up to capture his lips once again before closing his eyes as the light fingers of sleep caressed his mind. Chris watched as the younger man fell into a contented and exhausted sleep. Moving as little as possible, the gunman reached down and grabbed the last cloth Ezra had used. Cleaning them off, Chris then drew the blankets up and over them before wrapping his arms tightly about his lover.
Growing older was nothing he could prevent. However, as he snuggled down, his head pillowed by Ezra's sturdy chest, he knew that it was gonna be one hell of a ride.
THE END
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