Grulla by Cattraine

Disclaimer: If they were mine they'd sure as hell be on DVD by now....growl.

Warning: M/M sex. OW PWP. First time. I am a sucker for stories where two previously heterosexual men find themselves in love. Especially when they are clueless.

Pairing: C/V. I admit it. I am an unrepentant C/V slut. If you don't like that, don't read it.

Notes: Title refers to the color of a horse, an odd, lovely, blue gray roan. You see it among the mustangs in the Prior Mountains a lot. I like it. Next to a solid black, it's my favorite color for a horse. This one is for Judy, since my Dark Angels PWP has stalled in favor of feral Vin.

Feedback: Always welcome. I'm still learning this writing thing. If you flame me, please allow me time to don my asbestos underwear first.

Chris Larabee leaned back in his chair, long legs propped up on a post, book in hand. To anyone passing by on the boardwalk, he appeared engrossed in the small, leather-bound volume. What he was actually doing was keeping an eye on Vin. Tanner was getting ready to bolt. He was sure of it, and he was afraid Vin wouldn't come back to Four Corners when he did. Larabee was determined to head him off. The thought of Vin leaving town and...him...was, well, unthinkable.

He had picked up on Vin's unusual restlessness immediately. Vin had taken to prowling the length of the town, eagerly offered to do the other boys' unwanted patrols, took longer rides outside away from town, and there was a far away look in his eyes even when seated quietly with the others in the saloon. Worse, he was slowly, subtly, withdrawing from Chris' company, and that worried the gunslinger far more than anything else. He hadn't realized how much he depended on Vin's quiet companionship, until it dawned on him that he was about to lose it.

When he had been a horse rancher, back when his family was alive, he had bought a tall, leggy grulla mare from a passing horse trader. She was a mustang, caught up north. He had been pleased at the low price he paid, although suspicious of the man's knowing smirk when he rode away. The mare was sweet under a saddle, tireless, with a pace as smooth as flowing water, and she was so gentle that Sarah could ride her. There was only one problem. She could not abide a fence.

She jumped every gate he had, kicked her way out of the barn, and once free, headed due north towards Montana territory and home. No matter how many times he raised the rails on her corral, she found a way over or through them and led him on many a chase. Determined to keep her, he finally resorted to strands of barbed wire stretched over the top rails. He found her the next morning dead outside the corral, both forelegs entangled in the wire, with a broken neck. In hindsight, he realized all he should have done was picket her, until he found some way to convince her to tolerate a corral.

To this day he could still picture her, pacing along that fence, head and tail high, ears pricked, nose in the breeze. The yearning for the freedom of those northern mountains of her birth so strong that he could see it. He was picking up a similar feeling from Vin, and it spooked him. He couldn't lose Vin. The problem was, he had no clue how to hold him. The man wasn't a wild horse, although he sure as hell was as tough and stubborn as one.

The thought of Tanner possibly heading back to Texas and getting himself hung, scared the living shit out of him. Larabee had no faith in frontier justice, other then the kind he meted out himself with his Peacemaker. No, he wasn't going to lose Vin. He would just have to be patient and vigilant.

+ + + + + + +

Vin sat inside his old wagon cross-legged, pencil in hand, a grubby piece of paper on the board across his lap. He eyed his shaky, uneven printing doubtfully. Should say; "Wagon for Nathan". He was pretty sure he had got one of the big letters backwards though. He squinted down at it and scowled. Hell. Either he could read it or not. He carefully pinned the note on his narrow straw tick.

He crawled to the tailgate and emerged, hauling his full saddlebags, war bag, and rifle out with him. He wasn't leaving much behind, but he figured Nathan could use the wagon, or sell it for medicines and such for the clinic. Now he just had to get past Larabee's eagle eye. The man knew something was up, had been staying close, not even getting drunk lately. It both pleased Vin that he cared, and annoyed the shit out of him.

He padded silently up the shadow side of the alley up to the main street, and took a quick glance out. Shit. There he was, parked in front of the boarding house across the way, right between Vin and the livery. Might as well mosey past, tip his hat and say howdy. Man had a right to ride out of town any damned time he pleased. So, why was he sneaking around like a lovesick Comanche, peeking around corners?

Vin huffed out a breath, annoyed at his own indecisiveness. He was bad as Bucklin sneaking out of some gal's window, expecting a load of buckshot in the ass at any minute. Granted, he wouldn't put it past Larabee to shoot him. He pondered that for a minute, scowling. Yeah, Larabee would shoot him alright. Probably in the leg, or ass, so that he couldn't leave town. Then Nate would haul him up to the clinic and pour one of his gawd-awful horse piss concoctions down him and make him stay in bed for a week, and JD would read him those penny dreadfuls and Josiah would tell him stories about when he was in China...

"What ya doin' Vin?"

Billy Travis piped up behind him, causing him to jump like he was shot. Heart pounding, he turned to face the curious little boy. Kid was as nosy as his mama. Would probably grow up and be a newspaperman too, or a Pinkerton man, sticking his nose in everyone's business. He was also the worst tattletale in town. Thinking fast, he bent down to look the boy in the eye.

"I's looking for you, Billy."

Pleased, the little boy beamed up at him. "For me?"

"Yep. Got a job for yah."

Vin held up a shiny, new nickel, and waved it enticingly in front of the kid's nose. Blue eyes riveted on the coin, the little boy straightened proudly.

"What kind of job?"

Vin put a companionable hand on the kid's shoulder, and nudged him farther back in the alley. He hadn't scouted for the army for nothing, by God.

+ + + + + + +

Mary Travis peered out of the front window of The Clarion. She sighed wistfully as she admired the handsome blond seated across the street, book in hand. At first she had thought he was deliberately seated there to watch her, and had been flattered. Until yesterday, when she had gotten bold enough to approach him with an offer of supper, and realized he wasn't even aware of her walking towards him, because he was watching the alley across the way so intently.

If he was keeping an eye on the bank, she could understand it, but the only thing in that alley was Vin's old wagon. Something was up. She knew it. Now she just had to determine if it was newsworthy. If it had anything to do with Four Corners, the Clarion had a right to the story. Determined to find out, she patted a lock of pale hair into place, and checked her nose for ink smudges before marching across the street.

Larabee glanced up from his book and groaned. Mary was stalking his way with that determined look on her face that always made him want to stuff his saddle bags with whisky and go on a three day drunk. He eyed the alley across the way wistfully. Maybe he could just nab Vin and run...if they were both drunk, and he hid Vin's drawers, the scrawny Texan couldn't run away...

"Mr. Larabee! I'd like a word with you!"

Shit. Chris slumped lower in his chair.

Across the street, Vin Tanner smirked in triumph. His plan was working perfectly and Mary was providing a nice distraction as a bonus. He waited for a few minutes until Miz Travis was well into her interrogation, hands on her hips, before lazily moseying out of the alley. Poor old Chris looked like a man who had just realized his asshole was sewn shut. Vin smirked at the gunslinger, and politely tipped his hat to Mary as he ambled past, quite conspicuously empty-handed, and made a beeline for the saloon.

Immediately suspicious, Larabee craned his neck and tried to see around Mary's skirts. That little shit was up to something, he knew it! He fidgeted in his chair for several minutes before cramming his book in his coat pocket. Unable to wait any longer, he stood up, interrupting Mary in mid-question.

"Sorry, Mary, I've got to go. This ain't none of your business."

Leaving her standing open-mouthed, he stalked towards the saloon, inadvertently scaring two cowpokes and a Fuller brush salesman off the boardwalk as he sailed past. He had a wild Texan to run to ground. Pushing his way through the batwing doors into the saloon, he gave everyone inside a glare for good measure. A bottle and two shot glasses sat on his corner table, but there was no tangle-haired Texan in sight.

He turned the infamous Larabee glare on Buck, and racheted it up a notch.

Unperturbed, Buck sighed and straightened from his slouch at the bar. Time to take a break from mooning over Inez anyway. Good thing his hide was thick enough to survive the sizzle of that hot stare. He had developed a certain immunity over the years. Besides, it was fun to watch Vin bait the gunslinger.

"Howdy stud! Buy you a drink?" He boomed cheerfully.

"Where is he?" Larabee growled through gritted teeth.

"Where's who?"

The big man wore a look of angelic innocence guaranteed to set Larabee's teeth on edge and set off alarm bells with the father of every teenage girl in the Territory.

Larabee reached up and rubbed his forehead. He didn't have time for a damned headache.

Buck watched curiously, wondering if Nate was gonna win that bet about Chris keeling over from a conniption fit before the year was out. Hell, Buck had five dollars in that pot...

"Vin, dammit!"

"Oh, Vin. Well, old pard, I think the boy went to the privy. Should be back any minute."

"How long ago?"

"That's kind of a personal question, ain't it?"

"Shit!"

"Maybe...where ya headed Chris?"

He was talking to air. He turned back to the bar, and beamed at Inez.

"Darlin'.."

Exasperated, she rolled her eyes, and mentally calculated how many hot chili peppers to chop up into the big scoundrel's bean burritos. A dish of those and enough beer, and he would be busily occupied elsewhere for a while, giving her time to get some work done. Merda, indeed.

Chris plowed through the saloon doors just in time to catch sight of the fading dust cloud that Peso had left when he exited the livery. Goddamn it! He sprinted for the stable, mentally running various methods of Texan torture through his head. First thing, he was gonna kick that little son of a bitch's ass...

+ + + + + + +

Highly pleased with himself, Vin reined Peso down from a gallop into an easy lope. Hell, that had been easy. He figured Miz Travis would keep Chris cornered for a good fifteen minutes, Buck was good for at least another ten minutes, or so...all in all, he should have at least a half hour head start. He glanced over his shoulder, oddly disappointed not to see an irate black clad figure in hot pursuit.

Shaking his head at his own foolishness, he concentrated on the trail ahead. He figured he would hit the river, head upstream for a while in the shallow water to throw Larabee off the trail, then emerge on the sandstone flats near the foothills. He didn't want to leave, but he could no longer have his presence drawing bounty hunters like blueflies. That last time, Chris had had a bullet miss his head with a bare inch to spare before he laid that greedy bastard out. No way in hell would he be responsible for his dearest friend's death.

Still, he would miss Chris horribly. The rest of the boys as well. Even that dusty little town. Lost in thought, he never saw the dark figure lurking on the ridge above. Larabee reined Pony in, and eyed his prey with satisfaction. Good thing Buck had once shown him that shortcut he had discovered the last time Blossom's husband had come home unexpectantly. He spurred Pony on. He knew the perfect spot for an ambush ahead.

Peso loped across the meadow, Vin could see the river shining through the cottonwoods ahead. He would stop briefly and fill his canteen, and water Peso...and uuurrrkkk! The loop of the lasso settled easily over his head and around his shoulders, and yanked him neatly out of the saddle. He landed on his rump in the middle of a mesquite bush with an outraged grunt, losing his hat in the process. Peso stopped and looked over his shoulder, snorting in astonishment. Vin looked up into smug green eyes. Ah, Hell.

"Going somewhere, pard?"

Larabee gave him an evil white grin, as he lazily coiled his rope. Flushed with embarrassment, Vin glared up at the tall blond. Smartass son of a bitch, standing there as smug as the old devil himself. Made him want to knock the grin off the man's face...why not? His lunge and feral snarl took the gunslinger by surprise momentarily, and they rolled together in the grass and bushes as they punched, scuffled, wrestled and in Tanner's case, bit.

"Oww! You little bastard, that hurt!"

"Smartassed, know-it-all cowboy...oommppfff!"

Peso and Pony stood companionably together, tails switching, ears pricked, each munching a mouthful of grass as they watched with unabashed interest as their masters rolled, cussed and brawled until they finally wore themselves out, and lay panting, entangled together in the tall grass. Peso gave a noisy whicker that sounded suspiciously like the equine equivalent of a snicker.

"You give?"

"Hell, no. Let me catch my breath, Cowboy."

"Do you always have to have the last damned word?"

"Nope....mmmpphhh."

The kiss was long, hot, deep, and took them both totally by surprise. Larabee finally raised his head, and amazed hazel eyes looked down into wide blue. Startled, they jolted apart to lie shoulder to shoulder, suddenly, horribly bashful with each other. Chris stared, dazed up at the clear blue sky, while Vin sat up, flushed and tousled, to stare blindly at his hands. He licked his lips, still tasting Larabee. Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke.

"Weren't expecting that."

"Me either."

"I ain't no funny cowboy." This was mumbled so low as to be almost inaudible. Larabee quirked a blond brow, then sat up as well. There was a note of laughter in his voice when he replied.

"That's okay. I ain't a cowboy."

Vin snorted, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth, amused despite himself. He slanted a shy look Chris' way. His partner looked downright cheerful despite his dirt-smeared face, and the grass seeds stuck in his mussed blond hair. He chuckled, thinking the boys would laugh their asses off if they saw them now. Chris gave him one of his rare, sweet smiles and their eyes locked again.

Chris lifted a hand and dabbed gently at the corner of Vin's mouth with a thumb.

"Reckon I split your lip a bit."

His voice was low and husky. Vin felt a warm flush surge up his neck to his hairline, and he could feel the tips of his ears start to burn. He dropped his eyes again.

"Naw. I bit my lip when I landed in that damned bush." He scowled and raised flashing blue eyes.

"Didn't have ta rope me like a danged runaway bangtail."

Larabee's crow of laughter took him by surprise, and he watched warily as the usually dour gunman fell backwards in the grass, clutching his ribs and snickering helplessly. Irked, he reached out and poked Larabee in the ribs.

"Might want to sit up. Yer rollin' in horse shit."

Larabee sat up, wiping his tearing eyes. He gave his partner a cocky grin.

"And you've got cockleburrs in your hair."

They grinned happily at each other, then helped each other to stand, groaning a bit. Vin retrieved his hat from a bush, and they brushed themselves off. Leaning on each other, by unspoken agreement, they headed towards the river.

+ + + + + + +

Once naked and sitting in the water, they found themselves growing inexplicably shy with each other again. Still, they tentatively began to explore each others' bodies as they took turns soaping backs and hair, using a bar of soap from Vin's saddlebag. They rinsed and stood, splashing playfully at one another with the cold water. When Larabee wordlessly held out his hand, Tanner took it without hesitation and allowed his partner to lead him to the sunny, grassy spot where Larabee had spread his serape.

Vin didn't resist when Chris gently coaxed him to lie down beside him. He closed his eyes with pleasure when Chris began to tenderly plant soft kisses all over his face. He couldn't remember anyone being so gentle with him, and yet, somehow, it came as no surprise that he would find that with Larabee. Opening his eyes, he smiled into his partner's, lifting a hand to trace Chris' wide mouth.

"You done this before?"

"Nope."

Vin arched a brow. "Ya don't seem too worried about it."

Chris wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, body to body. He smiled when the younger man drew in a sharp breath at the sensation of warm, damp skin and hard muscle against his own. Softly, he nuzzled Vin's temple, pressed a tender kiss against his cheek, lifted his eyes and looked directly into Vin's.

"We'll find our way together."

"Yeah...yeah."

And they did, with tenderness and passion, despite their initial frustration at the refusal of two male bodies to merge perfectly to meet their need. They kissed hungrily, learning the taste of the other, sweet tobacco and whisky, salt and honey. With hands and mouths and more than a little laughter, they found their way to a climax that left them both shaking in each other's arms. After a while, they lay quietly together in the sun, sweat drying on their skin.

Vin lay with his head on Chris' shoulder, eyes closed, memorizing the strong beat of the man's heart, the scent and taste of his skin. Long legs entwined, and he smiled to himself when Larabee sought to enlace his flexible toes with Vin's. He could hear the murmur of the river, the birdsong, the horses grazing nearby, their big teeth ripping at the lush grass, the jingle and creak of their tack. He would always remember this day.

"You falling asleep on me, Tanner?"

He yawned and nuzzled a velvet brown nipple in response.

"Could be."

A big, calloused hand began to gently card through his drying hair, and he nearly purred with pleasure. Chris sighed softly and kissed his forehead.

"Reckon we better get up before we give someone a show."

"Uumm."

"Is that Miss Nettie?"

Vin sat up so fast he nearly toppled off the river bank. Heart thumping, he looked wildly around before narrowing his eyes down evilly at his snickering lover.

"Asshole!"

"Yeah."

Chris stretched his long body lazily, eyes bright with laughter and smiled wickedly at the hungry look on his young lover's face.

"Reckon it's time we headed for home."

Wary eyes locked with his.

"Home?"

"Yeah, home. Our cabin."

"They ain't gonna stop coming Chris, not even if I clear my name. Always gonna be a old poster floatin' around out there."

"Then we move on."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I was thinking the Arrowhead mountains up north. There's some mighty fine horses running wild up there."

Calm eyes on Vin's hopeful face, he extended his hand, and Vin took it, just as he had that first day. The day not so long ago, when two men looked across a dusty street and one began to bury his past, while the other began to dare to dream of a future.

Fini

Comments to: Cattraine@aol.com