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Notes: This fic is SLASH, though totally non graphic. Everyone keeps their pants on. Honest. The next in the series (E/V) will probably be different. If you’re offended, leave.
This is my first slash fic, and I did it because really, who else is good enough for one of the seven?
Summary: Buck helps Ezra recover after he is hurt by a former lover. First in a series.
Acknowledgments: To the other writers of slash. Because love is love.
Scratch a lover and find a foe |
Ezra Standish shut his door with a sigh of relief and quickly locked it. He would have leaned against the solid oak, but his back was already in enough pain, thank you very much.. He could feel his blood, tacky now, making his lower back itch.He walked into the back room slowly, his stomach aching and looked into the mirror. For a split second he was back there, staring into eyes where passion became predator’s lust. Only a split second, but long enough to make him drop the glass he’d been holding onto the hard ceramic floor. He cursed and jumped as it shattered and the fear eating at his system flared again. Before he knew it he was checking the front door lock and circling the apartment closing and locking windows.
Intellectually he doubted David would come after him. It wasn’t his style. Of course, intellect had very little to do with what had happened last night. Morning now.
Idiot! How could you be so stupid. Maude has been teaching you self-control your entire life, and in one evening you throw it all away. Let your hormones get the better of you.
He’d been tapping his informants, something he did regularly. Team Seven needed the constant influx of information to be effective, and he prided himself on keeping up to date. It had seemed a good night for it, a way of distracting himself from the images he knew would plague him should he attempt sleep. They had become family to him, in many ways closer than his mother. How could he start looking at one of them with different eyes? Seeing the man laughing and roughhousing with the others even in his sleep.
It hadn’t even been carnal thoughts, but the image of his friend laughing in complete and utter contentment. Dare he risk losing that, and for both of them? Ezra didn’t have that in him. Knowledge that cut to his heart, soothed only by the constant offering of friendship freely given.
He’d been doing fine, focusing on the ebb and flow of market forces the IRS would never see, when he’d run into David.
They’d met in college, and had become lovers. Maude had found out, and a few days afterwards David had transferred. With both of them refusing to talk to him Ezra had done the only thing he could, the same thing he had always done. Shut down his emotions.
‘I wish to God they’d stayed off’. When he’d met David in that seedy bar it hadn’t taken much persuading to get Ezra to go home with him.
He lightly fingered his stomach and the bruises forming there. The man had always been a rough lover, but never this bad. For the first time Ezra allowed that perhaps Maude had done him a favour.
The phone rang and he picked up automatically, only to hear David’s voice over the line.
"Ezra, where’d you go? We were having such fun."
"I recalled an urgent appointment. Elsewhere." ‘I left because you’re a sadistic bastard and I value my skin.’
"Why don’t you unrecall it and get back here?" The purring tone which always excited him now made him feel ill. He resented even having the man’s voice in his home.
"No." His words seemed to have deserted him.
"Oh, I think you will. You told me you work as a federal agent now. Lots of macho men there. How they feel at knowing their precious agent is a fag who likes it hard and fast with bruis-"<click>
Ezra looked down at the hand that held the phone. It was shaking and he felt the nausea hit him forcefully. He ran to the bathroom barely noticing as he stepped on a piece of glass and slammed down onto his right knee.
As he finished he heard a beeping noise coming from his bedroom. His alarm clock. Fuck.
+ + + + + + +
Ezra leaned his forehead against the cool mirror of the elevator and shifted his feet. He’d wanted a shower, but when he realised his shirt was stuck to his back it had seemed like too much trouble. He’d settled for a change of jacket and pants. Driving to work had been interesting. He wondered offhandedly which leg he should limp with. As he stepped off the elevator, mask in place, JD gave him an odd look.
"Uh, Ez,…"
"What is it Mr. Dunne? Aghast at my promptness? Remember it, for it will be a while before recurring." With an embarrassed flush the young computer expert turned back to his machine.
Ezra was almost at his office before it occurred to him that David might have called the office. He didn’t have the number, did he? He was breathing quickly as he sat down gingerly in his chair. They would still accept him, wouldn’t they? His eyes made their way to the darkened monitor and he blinked in surprise. He’d forgotten to shave. With a sigh of relief he grabbed a kit from his drawer and forced himself back onto his feet and into the bathroom.
+ + + + + + +
When Vin Tanner entered the office he shared with Ezra, it was to find the undercover agent already hard at work. Vin raised an eyebrow and said good morning, surprised the man was there so early. It wasn’t long before Vin realised something was wrong. Every time Ezra leaned back he would suddenly shift forwards, and he seemed to be trying to keep weight off his feet. It wasn’t until he’d returned from a lunch Ezra hadn’t attended that he realised how bad things were. Vin always hated people pestering him, so he’d done his best to give Ezra space. When he went over to rouse his friend, asleep at his desk, he saw the blood on his shirt and all those thoughts went out the window.
"Shit Ez, what the hell happened to you?" The sleepy agent tried to push him away muttering reassurances. "Like hell you’re ‘fine’. Fine people aren’t covered in blood. Now either you let me look or I’ll go get Nate." There was no room for compromise in his voice and Ezra submitted with ill grace, insisting that no one else be told.
"Fine then. I took care of myself plenty of times when I was a ‘hunter, reckon I can take care a you." Vin tried not to dwell on exactly how he’d like to ‘take care’ of Ez. "If it’s bad though, you’re gettin’ real help."
Not waiting for a response he quickly retrieved team seven’s copious first aid kit from the lounge, some water, and a sponge.
He winced as he saw the blood soaked shirt and set about soaking it loose. It took a while before it was finally free. Vin was relieved to see the damage was less than it had appeared.
Suddenly he noticed the curving shape of the deep scratches. It looked almost like . . .fingernails? "Ez, did someone do this to ya?" The agent stiffened and Vin hastily backed off. "Sorry, none a my business." Inside he was horrified that someone had hurt his friend like this. Placing a hand gently on the bare shoulderblade well above the marks, and ignoring the slight flinch he continued to gently clean.
He could feel the heat soaking into his left palm. He’d never seen Ezra like this before. Even without moving his hand could feel the muscle through the soft skin. The way it moved subtly with each breath. He could feel warmth growing in his stomach. Damn. What kind of sicko was he? His friend was in pain, and all he could think of was how good it would feel to run his hands over the smooth skin and feel the muscles move beneath. Suddenly Ezra spoke. He could feel the vibration of his voice like the purring of a cat beneath his hand.
"This was…the result of an error. I permitted my emotions to overrule my common sense. I will not make that mistake again." Vin was shocked. He could count the number of times Ezra had volunteered personal information on the fingers of one foot. Still, he wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass him by.
"Hell Ez, ain’t no kinda life shutting your heart up in a box."
"Perhaps." but it’s safer. Vin could almost hear the addition. He finished bandaging Ezra’s back and stepped away. The urge to run his hand down Ezra’s spine was almost a physical knot in his gut.
Ezra cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. "Ah, Vin, I would appreciate it if you would also inspect my left foot. I stepped on some glass this morning in a moment of inattention." Vin smiled at the fact that Ezra had used his first name for once and actually asked for help. He knelt down, gently wrapping his fingers around Ezra’s leg like that of a skittish horse.
"Damn Ez, you just been havin’ a lousy day today aintcha?" Skilled fingers gently unlaced a shoe, the other hand holding the limb immobile. He gently ran his thumb down the Achilles tendon, unable to resist. He looked up at Ezra who was staring straight ahead, muscles tense. Vin quickly removed the shoe anger burning hotly in his chest. What the fuck was wrong with him? Here was his friend, who rarely asked for help, in pain and all he could do was play games with the man.
Focusing, it was only seconds before the shoe was off. Vin swore at the damage and shook his head. "Sorry Ez, no way this don’t need stitches." As he left to tell Chris they were going to the hospital he could see Ezra slump down in his chair looking exhausted.
+ + + + + + +
As Ezra took a taxi to the saloon, his mind wandered back over the events of the previous day. He couldn’t get the sensations of Vin’s touch out of his mind. The way his breath had quickened at the barest brush of fingers, the warmth of his hand sinking straight towards Ezra’s heart. It made him disgusted with himself. Only hours after having any shred of safety ripped from him by David and he was ready to be hurt again.
He wasn’t worried about Vin physically attacking him. The sharpshooter was one of the most deliberate people he knew, a product of his profession. But emotional damage? No one was free of that. Watching the face of someone you loved react…
Maude had hardly touched him after he’d told her. Disappointed in the son she’d raised, though not enough to stop using him.
And what if Vin was interested, if only out of curiosity? He felt almost physically ill at the thought of Vin hurting him, pinning him against the wall. The panic he’d felt the night before welled up again and he took several deep shuddering breaths to regain control.
No. He couldn’t take that, couldn’t take the dreams he’d fueled with friendly touches being polluted with something darker.
So he did what he always did. Stroked the dreams softly in his mind, like a tired old pet, and gently shut them away.
He tipped the driver and headed into Inez’s bar, the mask on his face covering a lie that was becoming more brittle each day.
+ + + + + + +
JD snorted at Buck’s story.
"Buck, you are so full of crap. She wasn’t anything like that. I remember her throwing you over her shoulder, and from the noises I heard you must have spent at least part of the night on the floor."
As the table laughed he could see Ezra relax a bit. Everyone thought he was just a kid, but he wasn’t blind. Ez had looked horrible yesterday at work. Both Ez and Vin had been showing him how to read people’s eyes. What he’d seen in Ezra’s was a man who’d reached the end of his rope and was very quietly screaming for help.
Suddenly a stranger wandered up to the seven’s table, obviously drunk. Every one shifted subtly, preparing for action.
"Hey Ezra, I didn’t see you last night" JD looked over to see Ezra totally still. He didn’t seem to even be breathing. Suddenly he shifted his head to the side, the movement strangely robotic.
"David." There was a total lack of inflection in the tone. Something about it made JD tense up and look for the closest throwable object.
"Here you are with all of your cop buddies drinking and laughing together, them thinking they know you."
"Shut up." JD had never heard Ezra sound so…empty. Or rude. And why was he using this guy’s first name? Chris stood up, starting to smolder. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but they’d protect their friend.
"Listen you…"
"No, you listen. This is a free country and I can say whatever the hell I want." He turned back to Ezra. "Your mother’s a bitch and you’re no better. Working with these men, playing their little macho games when all you probably want is to be fucked stupid by them." He turned to Chris who was restraining himself with thoughts of assault charges. "You decide to go for it he likes it if you hurt him, pain’s his-" <Thwack> Looking down on him Chris wondered what the hell had taken him so long.
"Chris, he’s gone." While everyone’s attention was focused on the asshole on the floor Standish had gone out the back. Damn the man.
+ + + + + + +
Amazing. Ezra mused as he strolled towards the street. That hollow place inside of him? Well it was now filled with a raging fury so complete the world seemed to be still in comparison. Ezra smiled at the warmth.
He stopped under a streetlight and leaned on a mailbox. The anger in his chest bobbing like a balloon on a tether. He couldn’t go back to the apartment. They’d come. Or let him alone. No, not likely.
Or maybe one of them would try to take him up on David’s offer. The tether snapped and so did he.
+ + + + + + +
Vin started running when he heard the scream. The animal fury in it drew him like a magnet. As he turned the corner with the rest of the team he could see Ezra slumped against a mailbox. For a few seconds he thought he could hear a quiet chuckle before the man straightened and tossed them a look over his shoulder.
"Gentlemen. My apologies for my earlier behavior. I appear to have lost my temper and entrapped myself." He could hear Chris swearing softly as he realised Ezra had put his right hand through the side of the mailbox. Even Josiah looked impressed.
After a bit of work with Josiah’s toolbox they were able to get him loose. Surprisingly, none the worse for wear, though the mailbox had certainly seen better days. Chris silently asked Buck to take Ezra home. A brief acknowledgment of all the years he had spent pulling Chris out of a downward spiral. The team leader met Vin’s eyes -- not yet. Give him some space -- and Vin nodded in response. It didn’t surprise him that his friend knew. Most of their conversations didn’t have any words anyways.
"Well Mr. Wilmington, thank you for delivering me home."
"Listen Ez…" Ezra interrupted, blocking Buck on the outside of the door.
"No, Mr. Wilmington, I will not. I have humiliated myself sufficiently this evening and intend to stop the day here. Goodnight." He firmly shut the door in his friend’s face, locked it, and sat down on the couch, head in hands.
Several minutes later he heard a key in the lock. He sighed and put his gun away as Buck’s cheery face poked through the door like a groundhog out of its hole.
"Hey Ez."
"Mr. Wilmington. How exactly did you procure a key?"
"Told your super that you were drunk and couldn’t find yours. Damn Ez, your glare is almost as good as Chris’." He dropped to the opposite end of the couch and put his feet up on the table, obviously there to stay. "So, you want to talk about it?" The southerner sighed and picked at an imaginary spot on his cuffs. Buck had spent most of his life watching people. Half of them to determine what they wanted, and the other half to see if they would object to what he was planning for the first half. As soon as he saw the crack in his friend’s facade he knew that Ez would talk, it was just a matter of time. And Buck, though others might not credit it, was capable of a great deal of patience. And he knew a thing or two about persuasion.
Ezra abruptly left the room. A few minutes later he came back in jeans and sweatshirt, a bottle in hand. Buck was still on the couch, thinking on how clothes could be a sort of armor. Partway across the room Ezra detoured into the kitchen, coming back with two beers instead of the larger bottle. Buck nodded approvingly. There was a time and a place for getting falling down drunk, but this wasn’t it. He didn’t comment on the change of clothes and only raised an eyebrow as Ez raised his feet onto the coffee table himself, something he’d always frowned upon.
There was another long sigh and Ezra started to speak.
"When I entered college I required a place to stay. I responded to an ad, and in due course moved in with a pair of young gentlemen, David and Gary. Gary was a quiet fellow and rather oblivious. I suspect David had been ‘putting the moves’ on him for some time, but Gary was capable of ignoring a house fire if it suited his purposes. Incidentally, I ran into him several years later when I was with the FBI." Buck nodded and took a drink. "David was…fascinating." He smiled and Buck could see the reflection of a younger, less experienced man in his eyes.
"When I say fascinating, I mean that in the original sense, that of something that cannot be looked away from. I suspect he had plans for us…for me from the first. And I couldn’t look away. He was older than me and so much more self assured. He seemed to have perfect control over his life, and that was something I envied. Something I craved, and he seemed to offer it to me."
"When he approached me, I was…drawn to the idea. And to the fact that he was interested in me." Ezra looked at Buck, sorrow in his eyes. "For perhaps the first time in my life someone was interested in me, rather than something I could do for them." Buck hid his own sorrow behind a deep pull of his beer. "I was inexperienced but far from unwilling." He glanced again at Buck who nodded to show he understood the point. Ezra took his first drink of the beer and seemed to hesitate. Buck thought about saying something but decided to wait. Ezra continued. "As time passed, things became progressively rougher." He stopped and looked over to read Buck’s face. He saw only sympathy and understanding.
"Been there Ez. Outta my depth and sinking."
"Out of my depth. Yes, I certainly was. It started feeling…wrong. I enjoyed some of what we did, but certainly not all. And there was very little to the rest of the relationship. I watched the other couples. Saw them talking, dancing, just sitting together…" The agent broke off with a gasp and tried to get himself under control.
"That’s a part a any real relationship Ez."
"A fact I came to appreciate. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, and my mother came to visit. She was aghast at my living conditions." Buck had to chuckle at the thought of Maude standing by a pile of dirty underwear. Of course, Ezra’s room probably never looked like that. "A few days after she left David did too. I came back from class to find a new roommate in the process of moving in. It was like he vanished into thin air, or never existed. I tracked him down but he refused to talk to me. Told me to ask my mother, who of course told me nothing. In retrospect it is obvious that Gary must have told Maude what was going on, though I still don’t know what she did. I can’t say I blame him. Or her."
"After David there were others. Not many, one every few years or so. It never ended well. My job would interfere, or they would place me in a position where I could not retain my self-respect by remaining." Buck tried to take a drink to cover his expression but the bottle was empty. He stood up and strode to the kitchen, returning with another pair.
He tried not to think about the ways in which his friend had been hurt in the past. As he sat on the couch. This time though, he moved so he was sitting beside Ezra, who tensed but didn’t move away. Buck knew a thing or two about judging people too.
"I get the feelin there’s more Ez." He handed over a fresh bottle and Ezra took the opportunity to search his face. Whatever he found must have been satisfactory because he continued, relaxing slightly as he did.
"When I saw David the other night, it was like I’d been given a second chance. An opportunity to fix a part of my past I thought beyond repair." Feeling the gentle sigh he let out, Buck drew Ezra closer to him, as if he could by touch alone protect the man from his memories.
"Ezra, before this guy, when was the last time?"
"My last relationship terminated itself rather spectacularly about three months before I joined Team Seven."
"Jezus Ez, and you’ve been using ‘Palmela Handerson’ since?" There was a dry chuckle from the undercover agent who was now relaxed against him.
"You do have a way with words Mr. Wilmington. Yes Buck, it has been a very long time. Perhaps that was part of the problem, but I couldn’t risk anything that might reflect badly on the team. But then David was there, and it felt so good to be desired…I should have walked away."
"What happened?" Buck knew he wouldn’t like the answer.
"We were barely inside of his apartment when he… attacked me is I suppose the appropriate word. I was able to escape before I acquired more than a few scratches. Things could have been a great deal worse." His voice ended with a rasp, and Buck gently removed the half-full bottle to the table, setting his with it. He could hear the catch in his friend’s breathing and knew he was close to the edge of control. For the sake of healing he pushed him over.
"It’s all right Ez."
"No it’s not. What the hell is wrong with me?" Buck rubbed his back gently as long repressed tears started to flow. He knew what a sacred trust was being given in the vulnerability shown, and chose his words with care."
"Nothin Ez, you just got lousy taste in men. You’ve got good taste in friends though, and if you need us we’ll be there." Ezra started to pull himself together. Blotting his face on a tissue Buck handed him he tried to calm himself.
"Mr. Wilmington, I must apologise…"
"Shoot Ez, you got nothing to be sorry for. Ol’ Bucklin’s been a shoulder to cry on for plenty of young fillies in the past."
"Are you certain it wasn’t your presence inspiring the tears?" teased Ezra as he gathered the last two bottles.
"Nah Ez, them’s tears of joy." Buck smiled at Ezra’s soft laugh.
It would be rough, but his friend would be all right in time.
The End - for now
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