The Long Weekend
ATF Universe
Part of the Adiutor Amor Cervus series.
Disclaimer: Not mine not making any money
Author's Note: This is a sequel to Reassurances and Revelations. My Thanks to Firefox for proof reading this for me.
Pairings: Primarily Buck/Ezra, some Vin/Chris.
Size: Approx 190 K
Part 1 - 3 | Part 4 - 5 | Part 6 - 7 | Part 8
Ezra was as miserable as a person could be. It was the Labour Day weekend. They had it all planned out. Saturday at the ranch with the guys, a nice long ride with a picnic and maybe even a swim in the hot springs. Sunday as always, with the guys at Josiah's house watching baseball. Ezra didn't actually like baseball, but he didn't mind because he still got what he did like - a whole afternoon stretched out on Sanchez' huge sofa wrapped around Buck. Wilmington would lie out flat and turn his head to the screen, Ezra would lie alongside him, their legs intertwined, his head resting against Buck's shoulder, one arm under his lovers neck the other across his broad chest. Like that he could sleep for hours, no matter how exciting the game or how loud the room became.Buck, for his part, couldn't be happier, he was with Ezra - his favourite place to be in the whole world was wherever Ezra was. He was watching sport - though he no longer bellowed at the screen as if the players could hear him, or jumped out of his seat at moments of high tension or celebration. And on top of everything else, he was waited on hand and foot, since Ezra's slumbering bulk made it impossible to get up. And Monday he and Ezra were going to spend together, at home, just the two of them.
What actually happened was his latest case took an unexpected turn and Ezra ended up in a tiny rural community, way down south it what he thought of as the boil-on-the-ass of the most backward, bug infested, uncivilised, hell hole it had ever been his misfortune to visit. It wasn't even his case; he had just been 'borrowed' by the DEA when they needed an experienced undercover operative at short notice. What had him really worried was how well his cover had worked. It was disquieting to think he could pass for someone who actually belonged in the shit heap of a place. But the villains had been apprehended, and a fine advertisement for not marring your cousin they made, so Ezra was on his way back home.
He had managed to secure the last seat on the last plane out of the nearest city on Friday night. Said bastion of more or less civilisation was a good six-hour drive away and he had no intention of being late, so set out with plenty of time. It was hot; it was very, very hot. When Ezra had first moved to Denver he thought he would never get used to the cold and craved the heat of his native south. But these memories of warmth he now saw as flawed, he had forgotten just how unremittingly hot it could be, and humid. That Friday the heat was in the hundreds and the humidity in the high nineties. Worse still the hire car's air conditioning had failed. And then, just when he thought it couldn't get any worse; he had a flat tyre.
With the air conditioning broken the car windows were already all the way down and he had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He had to take his bag out of the trunk and put it on the back seat so he could liberate the spare wheel from under the trunk floor. He was dripping in perspiration as he struggled to get the wheel off, when he heard a vehicle draw up. Thinking or at least hoping someone was coming to his aid he looked up from the far side of the car to see a black pick up stop beside him. Then, before he could react, a young man in an old cap leaned out of the back and grabbed his jacket off the front seat while the similarly dressed youth who was driving, snatched his bag from the rear seat. With trophies still in hand held out of the windows, the car sped away. Ezra tried to at least get the number plate, but it was strategically splattered with mud.
With a sickening feeling in his gut, Ezra realised that everything was in his jacket, his ID, cell phone, keys, wallet. All he had was the car key, and his gun, safe in its ankle holster. Worse still his address book was in his bag. In the car all he had were the keys and the hire papers - which just happened to be in a false name - Edwin Staples.
After a letting lose a string of expletives that would have had even Vin blushing, he turned back to the flat tyre. Several hours later, with every knuckle skinned, his wrist sore and beginning to swell after he wrenched it, and drenched in sweat, he gave up. One wheel nut just wouldn't come off. In truth he knew it wouldn't come off after twenty minutes, but stubborn pride wouldn't let him give up. Men changed tyres, real men didn't call for help, real men didn't need the auto club, real men could change their own tyres. But nothing was going to move that nut, he had tried everything, up to and including hitting the wheel brace with a rock.
All hope of reaching the airport in time to catch his flight was now long gone as he locked the stranded car and set out to walk to the nearest town.
+ + + + + + +
Buck watched the clock in Team Seven's offices move with excruciating slowness toward five. Normally five o'clock on the Friday of a holiday weekend would be a joyous time. Normally, but not today, because today he was alone. Four of the others were there, and there had been office banter as always, but it wasn't the same, not without Ezra.
The other missing team member was Chris, and it was his absence that had lightened the atmosphere. Ever since Buck and Ezra had come out to the rest of the team, Chris was against their relationship. Whether he was against it because they were on the same team or just against same sex relationships in general or both, wasn't clear. Buck knew, and therefore Ezra knew, that Chris was attracted to Vin, but wouldn't or couldn't admit it. For his part Vin was desperately in love with Chris, though Chris appeared to be oblivious to it. How much the others knew about Vin and Chris wasn't known because no one ever talked about it.
But what ever Chris' feelings, they didn't change the fact that they were Team Seven, and no matter what the problems within the team, to the outside world they were as close and united as ever. They would back each other, and protect one another, no matter what; even Chris would stand by that, irrespective of his personal feelings. But on this particular weekend Chris was away in Washington, he had been called to testify to a congressional committee about illegal explosives. He had decided that instead of flying back, he would spend the weekend visiting Sarah's sister and her family. It was a move that had surprised Buck. Chris and Jane had always got on but he hadn't seen her and especially her children since the funeral. Jane was Sarah's older sister, her two daughters were already teenagers when Sarah and Adam died. Now one was at collage and one had graduated, got a job and left home. Sarah's husband Mark was a career Navy officer and he and Chris had always got on well. Part of Buck was pleased, he had always thought it a shame that Chris had seemed to cut himself off from his wife's family, he was happy his old friend had made the first move to maintain the relationship - and yet - he couldn't help but wonder if Chris was just using it as an excuse not to have to spend time with him and Ezra, or worse, face telling them they weren't welcome at his ranch anymore.
Yet despite his absence, Chris had insisted they still go out to the ranch on the understanding someone, preferably Vin or Ezra, gave his horse a good run out. The actual plan was for Casey to come along and ride Pony. Casey was living with JD at the former CDC. Former, because Casey had put her foot down and the three of them had spent the first weekend they were there, cleaning and scrubbing and throwing out. They had filled one whole dumpster all on their own! Ezra had not participated, he had supervised and provided food - catered of course - and inspected, Ezra never cleaned. One of the biggest changes Buck had to get used to when he moved in with Ezra, was that Ezra employed a cleaning and laundry service who did everything, cleaned house, washed the clothes, did the ironing, sent and collected the dry cleaning and bed linen. He did own a washing machine and a dryer, even an iron, and used them, though only for underwear and his meagre collection of casual clothes, claiming he couldn't possibly send jeans, much less a plaid shirt, to the cleaners. Buck had expressed a concern that the cleaners could 'let the cat out of the bag' about their relationship or even blackmail them. But Ezra had assured him there was nothing to worry about.
"Buck have no fear, 'Butler's Exclusive Cleaning and Laundry Service', are well known, one plays over the odds for discretion, they service some of the most exclusive 'clubs' in the state," he explained.
"Really?" Buck raised an eyebrow. "The Belmont?" he asked.
Ezra knew of the club, it was the best, most expensive bordello in the Rockies, it called itself a gentleman's club, but if you were in the know and could get in through the front door, it offered a full service - whatever your tastes. He had no doubt the police knew what went on inside too, but given the number of judges, DA's, senior police officers and even various federal agency personnel who were members, their chances of a successful bust were minimal. Besides, it wasn't hurting anyone so they left it alone. Now he wondered if Buck was a member, and if so how he could afford it.
"Indeed, can I ask why you ask?"
"Oh I'm a life member," Buck grinned. "And before you ask, I got it free, seeing as how I used to live there."
Ezra's eyes opened in amazement, but he waited for the explanation he knew was coming.
"See - me and Ma moved here from Vegas when I was sixteen, she got a job at the Belmont, you got to realise she was only 32 and she looked more like 25. At the Belmont, they wanted experience and looks, and Ma was a looker."
It still never ceased to amaze Ezra how casually Buck would talk - when he felt safe - about his mother and her 'profession'. That he had loved her and she him, was so evident it was sometimes painful to listen to, when compared to the relationship he shared with his own mother. Buck's mother, if her picture was to be believed, was more than a 'looker', she had been stunning and her early death a real tragedy.
"We came here and lived in a couple of rooms over the garages at the Belmont, it was a good time, well until she … you know, until she was killed."
Ezra knew she had died in a car crash, it was no one's fault, her car suffered a blow out on the freeway, it was a snowy day, and she had had no chance, dying instantly. Buck had been just nineteen and in his first year at college.
"It was a sort of gift, from the manager, after Ma… when I moved out." To him it was nothing, something he had but hardly used. Explaining how he got it he realised must sound odd to someone not part of the world he grew up in.
"So…" Ezra continued, "you accept they can be trusted to clean the apartment and do our washing safely?"
"I guess, just don't think I can afford it, an' I ain't got much in the way of fancy clothing," Buck confessed.
"Buck, beloved, we are a partnership - yes?" Ezra asked.
"Yes, of course."
"Then what is mine, is yours," he reached out and placed his hand on the back of Buck's neck, pulling him down so that their forehead's touched. "And that includes any extra income I may have from investments and trust funds. What use are they if not to make life a little easier? Besides," he smiled, "… we are using a lot more bed linen aren’t we?" With that he pulled Buck down further and kissed him lightly, then more and more passionately, until they were forced to part for want of air.
"You planning on needed fresh linen in the next hour or so by any chance?" Buck asked hopefully.
"Could be, so you okay with this?" he asked.
"I guess. Living with you is a learning curve, you know?"
"For both of us, beloved." Ezra's lips returned to his lover kissing gently, then he moved kissing along Buck's jaw line. He moved up to kiss and nibble at Buck's ear.
"Mmmm," Buck moaned. "Ez?"
Ezra broke off for a moment. "Yes beloved?"
"Bedroom?"
"Bedroom," Ezra confirmed.
The huge bed was perfectly made as ever. The crisp white Egyptian cotton sheet covered the deep pocket sprung mattress, with its two-inch deep quilted pad, covered by a washable quilted cotton cover. Huge, white, Oxford pillowcases, on each one of the mountain of goosedown filled pillows. The thick, down-filled European style quilt was covered in a white striped percale cover.
Ezra led Buck to the edge of the bed, and standing in front of his tall lover he began to undo the buttons on Buck's soft, faded, pale blue shirt, kissing each bit of newly exposed skin as he revealed it. Ezra had initiated this and Buck was letting him lead, doing nothing but stand and enjoy the sensations. He suddenly gasped as one of his nipples was captured and nuzzled, nibbled and sucked, rising instantly to be come so hard it was almost painful. He gasped, his hands came up and he began to run his long fingers through Ezra's silky chestnut hair. Finally, the shirt dropped to the thick carpet. Neither man was wearing shoes, it was a habit now to abandon them in the hallway and just enjoy the underfloor heating and thick, soft, natural fibre carpets. Ezra hadn't even noticed that as they stood there Buck had managed to get his socks off.
Ezra moved his oral ministrations to the other nipple, which was already hard and aching for attention, but then he moved quickly to kneel before Buck's groin. Making short work of the belt and zip, and opening the figure hugging jeans, he pushed them down. Slowly, he pushed his hands into the top of the navy boxers, letting them move around under the soft, well washed cotton to rest on the twin globes of Buck's firm, muscular buttocks. His well manicured fingers met in the middle and ran down the crack. Instinctively Buck moved his legs apart a little to facilitate Ezra's ministrations. With a little sigh, Ezra moved his hands back to Buck's hips and firmly but gently pushed the boxers down to his lover's ankles, where Buck stepped out of them. The half hard cock rose before him and Ezra smiled. The sight of Buck's long, pleasantly thick, ultra smooth member always made him smile, always, no matter how aroused he was - and right then that was very - the sight made his groin give an involuntary spasm of pure pleasure. He bent forward and without touching Buck with anything but his lips he bestowed just the lightest of kisses on the head. Then, in one swift graceful movement, he stood and looked up in to those deep midnight blue eyes.
"Hold that thought," he all but whispered.
"And how do you know what I was thinking?" Buck breathed.
"Because I love you, because I can read you. My beloved, the light of my life, my protector, my strength, my everything."
Ezra stepped back just enough to give himself room to undress. Buck gulped as he watched and his cock gave a little jerk as he became fully hard. Finally when Ezra was himself naked, his own cock rose impressively hard from its nest of luxuriant chestnut curls. He took Buck's hand and led him to the bed. Ezra used his free hand to pull back the plump quilt and moving on his knees he crossed the bed to the far side leading Buck behind him. Eventually they were kneeling in the centre of the bed facing one another, gazing into each other's eyes.
"Love you," Buck breathed.
"Love you too," Ezra responded.
His hand came to his own neck and he lovingly fondled the gold St Christopher hanging there. The token of Buck's love, entrusted to him by his mother to bestow on who ever he most wanted to keep safe in all the world. Now engraved with their initials and a love knot.
Buck watched him, instinctively his left hand moved over to touch his own right wrist and the white gold bracelet around it, engraved with Ezra's declaration of love, albeit in Latin.
Moving as one, both men moved their right hands to lovingly cup and stroke the others cheek, and again, as one, they pulled each other closer to join their lips. Until now Buck had let Ezra lead, but now he began to assert himself. He was by nature a leader and instigator in the bedroom, and while Ezra wasn't exactly a submissive, he preferred to be the passive partner, he liked to be taken care of, to be led and loved. Buck's skilled tongue now probed the soft inside of Ezra's mouth, exploring and exciting the senses. Hands mutually explored the others body, bodies they knew as well as their own and yet delighted in exploring time and time again.
Finally, still exploring and sensualising each other, they sank down to the pillows to lie side by side facing each other. The kissing stopped, as again by mutual, but unspoken consent, eyes were to be feasted. With finger tips still exploring, they gazed at each other.
Buck looked deep in to emerald jewels, which seemed to glow with an inner light, a light of love but also of vulnerability. He felt he could almost see all the hurt Ezra had lived through, all the times he had been used by callous lovers who took their pleasure from him and gave him nothing. He saw all the slights and jibes and put-downs he suffered from Maude. All the rejection and distrust he had overcome when he was in Atlanta. And he vowed yet again that never would Ezra suffer like that, he was going to protect Ezra from now on. Protect him, comfort him, love him, now and forever.
Ezra looked dreamily in to seemingly bottomless midnight pools of love. Eyes that were so full of love and strength and courage, he couldn't help but feel safe under their protective gaze. Yet he knew better than anyone just how easily that strength could be undermined. That Buck's self worth was a fragile thing, that his belief in himself as a person who was valued and of use could be very easily dented or even pulled out from under him. The demons of his childhood were only buried not vanquished, but Ezra vowed to keep them six feet under forever.
Their unspoken communication worked again as simultaneously, lips were rejoined and for the first time, hands moved to touch their aching erections. Holding, stroking, rubbing each others shaft as they kissed and stroked with their free hand. As they moved ever closer and ever more urgently, the heads of their cocks bumped and ground against each other, heat rising, sweat glistening on their bodies as the intensity of the mutual stimulation rose. Finally and almost simultaneously the dams broke, warm sticky cum flowed, coating their stomachs and chests. As the climaxes broke over them the kissing had become so intense both men knew their lips would be bruised and swollen the next day, but they were beyond any measure of control. Melting into each other's arms, heedless of their slick, sticky bodies.
Buck enveloped Ezra in his long limbs, holding him close and safe, he needed to be needed, to protect, to care for someone, and Ezra needed to be protected, cared for and loved. This symbiosis of need was what made their relationship so strong. But it was a strength that was backed by love, a total all encompassing love.
+ + + + + + +
Casey had known all about Ezra and Buck almost as soon as JD did, and was as positive about it as JD. She had always liked Buck, it was after all Buck who kept the man she loved alive and sane, how could she not love him and want him to be happy? Casey was about to start her first job as a grade three teacher; this was to be her last weekend - as she saw it - as a child, a carefree student. On Tuesday she would start work for the first time (to Casey part time jobs and summer jobs didn't count) and she was going to celebrate by spending her first ever weekend as 'one of the guys'. She walked into Team Seven's office, proudly wearing her visitors badge.
"Hey guys!" she called as she stood in the doorway.
"Hi Hun!" JD greeted from his desk.
Casey checked her watch and the clock on the wall. They agreed it was 5:01.
"Are we going or what?" she asked.
To anyone just glancing casually at the five men in the office, it would appear they were diligently working past five on a holiday weekend. Closer inspection would have revealed four men playing poker via their computers and one staring off in to space, lost in thought. The shared computer poker was a secret the six of them had, Chris didn't know about it. JD had configured a secret network that only linked their six computers and to which no one else on the network had access to. It was infuriating that even with the computer dealing Ezra still won most hands. When Ezra wasn't there Josiah tended to come out on top most of the time, - though only just - or he had until Buck had moved in with Ezra, now he was wining more than he lost. The computer played with thousands of cyber dollars, they counted each thousand as one dollar. Between them Ezra and Buck were well ahead. But today Buck didn't want to play, he just wanted Ezra.
Josiah shook his head. "Well, well, Nathan you sneaky devil you," he commented.
Nathan had just taken the pot, which stood at thirty-five thousand cyber dollars or thirty-five real dollars, on a bluff. The four men closed down their computers and rose almost as one, stretching as they did.
"Buck?" JD asked, seeing his best friend and former roommate unmoving. He got no response, Buck's unfocused eyes were still staring out past the window at a blue Colorado sky, his computer screen saver - a cartoon bucking bronco - silently ditching its rider once again. "Oh Buuuuuck," JD called softly coming up behind the big man. Finally he bent down so that his mouth was only inches from Wilmington's ear. "BUCK!" he suddenly yelled.
"What!" Buck suddenly sat up turning around as he did. "Christ Almighty kid! Don't do that, you could give a man a heart attack like that!" He studied JD's amused and distinctly less than remorseful face. "What do you want?"
"You coming with us or not?" JD asked.
"Coming with you where? It's only…" He looked at the clock.
"Gone five?" JD offered.
"But…" Buck sounded slightly lost all of a sudden.
"Brother…" Josiah came to his side and placed a huge hand on his shoulder. "…you have been day dreaming for the last two hours."
"Oh, no I haven't," Buck instantly denied, looking at the others, "have I?"
They all nodded.
"Jeez I'm sorry guys, why didn't you say something?"
"'Cause we was too busy playing poker, is why. He'll be back tonight, don't worry." Vin crossed the room still smiling. "Now, you coming to the saloon with us or are you planning on camping at the airport for the next six hours?"
Buck blushed as he ducked his head; Vin was closer to the truth than he knew. He had indeed been fighting the urge to go straight to the airport and just sit and wait for Ezra's flight to land; it was due at eleven fifteen that evening.
"Buck?" Casey's soft voice sounded behind him.
"Sweet Pea where'd you spring from?" he asked smiling sweetly at the diminutive young woman. Whatever relationship he had with Ezra, Buck just couldn't help turning on the Wilmington charm in the presence of a lady.
If anyone but Buck, including JD, had called her 'sweet pea' Casey would most likely have decked them, even with an eighteen-inch height difference. But Buck had privileges with Casey no one else had. He was going to be - if her planes all worked out - the closest thing to an in-law she was going to have; and besides if it weren't for his gentle and discreet tutelage of both of them, she and JD would probably still be unable to speak more than three words to each other with out getting tongue tied.
"I'm going with you guys tomorrow? Remember?"
"So you are, reckon you're up to riding that ornery mule of Chris'?"
"I can ride any horse you ever met," she boasted.
"Even Peso?" JD asked.
"Well … okay, maybe not Peso, not if what JD says is true…" She looked sideways at Vin, who was looking mightily offended - on Peso's behalf. "…he says Peso's just plum evil."
"Now that jist ain't true!" Vin protested, rounding on JD, "you take that back!" JD was now backing up rapidly, holding his hands up in a show of peace, as the enraged Texan bore down on him. "He's jist an individual is all, he's got personality, not like that puppy Buck rides."
"What did you just call my horse?" Buck demanded.
Vin forgot JD and turned on Buck. "Well he is, don't reckon he minds who rides him so long as he gets a bucket of mash and a tickle behind the ear."
"And that's a bad thing? As opposed to attempting to bite or kick everyone and everything that comes anyplace near him?" Buck retorted.
"Well hell, least they ain't spoiled and stuck up, like that prima donna of Ezra's," JD pointed out.
Vin and Buck turned back to look at him, suddenly both broke out into a smile. "Well that is true," Buck admitted. "But if you tell him I said so, I'll deny it to my last breath!"
They headed for the bar together; Buck no longer focused on his absent love, at least for a short while.
Josiah and Nathan followed on behind the others, Sanchez silently thanking Vin for effectively distracting Buck.
Part 2
Ezra was hot, tired and very, very pissed off. His feet hurt, he was sure he had blisters on both feet, on his heels and toes, on the balls of his feet, basically everywhere, his wrist was now very swollen and painful, some of the cuts on his hands stung as the sweat dripped into them. He trudged on up the hill to who knew what hellhole, back of beyond, one horse town? Not one vehicle passed him; it seemed the only people to use the road were thieves and unlucky ATF agents. He had been going for about three hours; the sun was setting, shining directly into his eyes as he crested the hill. Squinting directly into the sun, he made out a building. As he got closer it proved to be a filling station, old, dilapidated, but apparently open. Once he got closer he could see that beyond the filling station were a few other buildings down one side of the road. A store, a bar, what looked like it could be a sheriff's office, and four other buildings. He knew he should go to the sheriff, but he just couldn't be bothered to walk any further.The pumps were old but not ancient, the store was small but he could definitely see people inside. He placed his hand on the handle of the door and pushed. The door did not move. He tried pulling, but it still didn't move. Ezra peered at the two men inside who were ignoring him; frustrated, he rapped sharply on the glass. The men continued to talk, so he banged on the glass rattling the whole door. One of the men walked lazily over to the small window at the side of the door. Ezra followed him.
"We're closed fer ever'thin' 'sept gas," he informed Ezra lazily.
"I need assistance, I was just robbed." Ezra pointed down the road. ""About seven or eight miles that way, I need to use your phone."
"Pay phone's jist up the street a ways." The man waved his hand ineffectually in the direction of the other buildings.
"As I told you sir, I have no money, I was robbed," Ezra explained again.
"Well ya should go tell the sheriff, an' you c'n make a collect call, can't ya?" With that, the man closed the tiny window and was gone.
"God give me strength," Ezra said out loud. Buck I need you, he said to himself.
Right then he really needed to have a strong pair of arms close around him and say those magic words "I'll take care of you baby. I love you." Forcing himself to concentrate on his current predicament, and not on the vision of Buck on his big white horse charging over the hill to rescue him, Ezra headed for the phone. He contacted the operator and asked to place a collect call to Denver, asking for the office number. The operator told him there was only a machine answering and she couldn't place a collect call to a machine. It was just gone five in Denver, so he guessed they had all gone to the saloon. Unfortunately he couldn't remember the number, after all he had an address book so he didn't have to remember numbers. The operator wouldn't put him through to information without money. He asked her to try Buck's number. After Buck had moved in officially, they had installed a second line, so they could have different numbers, and separate message machines, it was just easier that way. Again, all that answered was the machine. Ezra never carried change in his trouser pockets because he said it spoiled the line of his clothes and ruined the pockets, Buck had pointed out that there was no point having pockets if you never put anything in them! But Ezra insisted a gentleman carried his change in a wallet. This unfortunately meant if your wallet was stolen, you were left penniless. The only other number he knew was Buck's cell, but he was informed it was not possible to put a collect call through to a cell, and the ranch. He didn't think anyone would be there, but he tried, only to be told yet again that only a machine was answering.
Tired, hungry and with no options left, he headed to the sheriff's office.
+ + + + + + +
To begin with Buck was his normal jovial, 'life and soul of the party' self at the saloon, but within only an hour he was thinking of the time and the journey to the airport, and Ezra, and he grew steadily more quiet. It was only seven thirty when JD sat down beside his best friend.
"Why don't you go? No one will mind," he said quietly.
"It's too early, I mean his plane's not due for what? Four hours yet."
"You might as well sit there and wait silently as here, it's what you want to do, isn't it?"
Buck wished that what JD was saying was wrong, that he wasn't so pathetically needy he had to sit for hours in an airport lounge because he couldn't function with out his partner, but he was. He had been fine while Ezra was away although he missed him of course. When Ezra could, he called each night - though when he was under cover it wasn't always possible, and they talked for hours. Buck threw himself into work, and kept busy. But with Ezra's return so close, his mind was concentrated on the love of his life to the exclusion of all else.
"Go brother." Buck looked up to see Josiah's kind, wise eyes looking back at him across the booth. "We understand, and we'll see both of you tomorrow at the ranch."
Finally Buck nodded. He drained the coke - all he had drunk - in front of him and stood.
"Drive carefully pard." Buck looked around to see Vin at the pool table with Casey.
"See you tomorrow," Casey added.
"You winnin' Sweet Pea?" Buck asked as he headed past the table to the door.
"Ain't but one of you guys can touch me!" she boasted.
"See that they don't." With that he was outside and heading for the Jag. He had driven it in preference to his truck, because even though it was a warm, dry night, Ezra hated to place his luggage in the open back of the classic vehicle. Nathan was outside, he was making a call to Rain, and had stepped outside to get some quiet. He looked up mid-call, smiled and waved.
+ + + + + + +
That all - well, almost all - their close friends had accepted their new relationship had been a great source of comfort and strength to Buck and Ezra. About three days after they came out to the team, all seven of them were in the Saloon when Inez came up to Buck as he lent on the bar waiting for his order to be filled.
"JD told me," she said quietly, as she filled the glasses with beer.
"Told you what, Hun?"
"He told me of your relationship with Senor Ezra, I am most happy for both of you, he is a very lucky man."
Buck frowned at her. "No darlin', I'm the lucky one, to have someone like him, for a person like me, no I'm the lucky one."
"You forget Senor, before you fell in love with him, you used to be interested in me. I know what it is like to be wooed by you, kissed, and romanced. Senor Ezra is very lucky to have such a man as you. Perhaps if I had been a little more receptive, it would be me you look at with such love?" There was just the hint of regret in her voice. In truth - no matter what she said - she found him very attractive, fun, strong, safe, every girl's dream, in fact.
Buck smiled at her sweetly. "Inez honey, if I were gonna settle for good with a woman it would have been you, but I honestly believe Ezra is the only one for me, that we were destined to be together, you know?"
"Si, I know, and I think you are right. I will keep your secret and you can come here or call me for help if you ever need it."
Buck lent over the bar and kissed her cheek, in thanks."And what was all that about?" Ezra had whispered in his ear when he returned to the booth with the round of drinks. There was just a hint of mock jealousy in the question.
Buck smiled and lent over to nuzzle and gently kiss Ezra's ear. "She's happy for us," he breathed in to the ear, turning the worlds into a seductive warm breeze that made Ezra shiver with desire.
"Buck don't, someone might see, " he chided, pulling himself together.
"So? Let them see, I'm so proud of you, I want the whole world to see just what kind of fine man loves me."
Ezra had to work very hard to retain his poker face after that.
"I'm flattered beloved but we still have to work in this town, within its law enforcement community, don't we?"
"Mmmm." More warm air had wafted over Ezra's ear. "To hell with them, lets move to 'Frisco and just be us."
"Tempting, but I don't think we could persuade the others to come too - do you?"
"Probably not," Buck sighed, sitting up and taking a pull on his beer.
But as he sat there drinking, one hand remained behind Ezra. To the casual viewer it just looked as though he was resting it on the seat beside him, where as in fact his hand was under his lovers jacket, under his linen shirt and tracing lazy circles on the warm soft skin of the small of his back. Ezra was transfixed, it was all he could do just to sip the imported lager in front of him and not moan in pleasure. He lent forward to rest his elbows on the table, not because he was tired or particularly enthralled by the light banter at the booth - banter Buck was fully involved in - but because it gave Buck more skin to work his magic on.
Ezra's back was warm and smooth, the hard muscles encased in the softest of coverings. Buck ran his finger up the spine and then down again, spreading his hand out to cover the taught muscles either side, he smiled as he felt his lover's body give and involuntary shudder. Then he went back to rubbing and stroking as he chatted to the others.
+ + + + + + +
It was memories like that he clung to as he drove to the airport. Parking the car for that long was going to cost a fortune, but he daren't leave the Jag in the long stay car park, it was too far away and too vulnerable, so he pulled into the short stay 'Departures' car park and parked as close to the exit as he could.
"What are you doing Buck?" he asked himself out loud. "You're pathetic, you know that, acting like some love-sick teen whose heart-throb is just about to land."
Nevertheless he shook his head, exited the car, making sure it was locked and the alarm activated before he headed into the terminal building. Since nothing much happened in 'Departures' he headed for 'Arrivals'. His stomach growled at him and he regretted leaving the saloon before he had had the chance to eat. It was only just gone eight, so he had a good few hours to go, time to get a meal and buy a paper and read it cover to cover he decided. What he actually did was eat a meal he couldn't remember five minutes later, buy a paper he didn't read and spend two hours looking for a coming home present for Ezra in the many shops in the airport.
He considered a book, since moving in with Ezra he had begun to read again. As a boy, forever moving and never having any money, he read a lot. Lonely nights alone in strange motel rooms, long bus trips, long weekends when he was new in town and had no friends, or had been in town too long and no parent would let their child play with him. Once he got older, he had found other 'distractions' and lost the reading habit. But Ezra liked to read in the evening, and on Sunday mornings. Generally they made love on Sunday morning, washed, changed the sheets, made breakfast and then got back into bed with their food and their books, for another hour before finally getting up. Buck liked thrillers, Grisham, Clancy, Forsyth, but little by little he was being pulled into Ezra's literary world. Ezra wasn't that fond of fiction, he liked to learn. 'Knowledge is power' was his motto, and he would stop every now and again and read an interesting bit out to Buck. His current book was called 'And The Policeman Smiled' it was about Jewish refugee children fleeing Hitler to live in England. But the airport bookshop had nothing he thought Ezra would be interested in, or hadn't already read.
He by passed the souvenir shops and boutiques, considered some wild honey, and a box of chocolates but dismissed them as too transient, not counting his mothers St Christopher, that Ezra wore permanently, this was the first gift he had given Ezra. Finally he found himself in a tie shop. Purchasing ties for Ezra was a brave thing, the chances of finding one the fastidious man would find acceptable would be tricky. But if he got it right, it would mean so much more to Ezra. Ezra could wear it at work and they would both be able to revel in the memory of this reunion without anyone being any the wiser.
Glaring at the assistant, who kept a safe distance, he searched the small shop for the perfect tie. There were several he liked for himself, but none of them would do for Ezra, especially the one with Scooby Doo on it! In the end it came down to one of two, the first had Jaguar XJS's on it and the other was silk, it looked to be - at first glance - mid blue with odd little silver grey triangles on it, but up close they were stags heads, bucks. Buck himself only owned three suits, a tux - he had worked out years ago it was cheaper to buy one than keep renting them - a dark suit for court appearances, funerals and if it ever became necessary, job interviews, and a grey Armani suit the ATF paid for, for use undercover. He had quite a few ties, but only ever wore one of five. The bow tie for the tux, his black tie for funerals, a navy tie with the DPD badge on it, a dark red tie with little Denver Bronco's logos on it and a dark grey tie shot with burgundy, to go with the Armani - Ezra chose that one. In the end there was no contest, he chose the stags, it was nearly twice the price but Buck could afford it.
Living with Ezra had made him richer. He was paying only one third of the mortgage on the loft, instead of two thirds. JD was under the impression the rent he paid Buck was half the mortgage, it wasn’t. Now he was living at the loft with Casey, she was also paying one third. Nothing would make Buck tell JD the truth or even if he found out, make him accept the money, the subsidy was his ‘thank you’ to JD. Since Ezra owned his apartment outright and would accept no rent form Buck, he was considerably better off each month. Some of this extra income he let Ezra invest for him, but the rest sat very nicely in his pocket.
"I'll take these three." He handed over the three he had chosen, the Scooby tie for himself, maybe he'd save it for Halloween. A dark red tie with a small heard of broncos racing across the bottom, for Vin's up coming birthday, maybe if it had horses on it Vin might be persuaded to wear a tie with out complaining quite so much, and the silk tie for Ezra. "Can you gift wrap that one?" He pointed at the last tie.
"Certainly sir," the young female assistant confirmed.
He stood and watched as she placed the tie in a box and tied a silver ribbon around it, finishing it off with an ornate bow of curled ribbon. Glancing at his watch he noted that Ezra's plane was due to land in half an hour.
Time to head for 'Arrivals,' he thought.
So once he had his purchases he headed the Arrivals lounge. He had literally just walked into the hall when he all but ran into a woman on her way out.
"Mr Wilmington!" Maude Standish greeted him.
Part 3
Ezra had always known he was going to have to report the theft to the local law enforcement, he just wasn’t looking forward to it. It was, needles to say, embarrassing in the extreme to admit that he had been so easily divested of all his valuables. He was a Federal Agent. And not just any Federal Agent, oh no, he was a member of Denver ATF Team Seven, the most successful tactical team in the whole damn country. In fact, the closer he got to the sheriff's office, the worse it got. It wasn’t just the local law that were going to have a heyday with his ineptitude, the rest of the team would no doubt have a high time at his expense. This unpleasant realisation was tempered by sadness, because it made him think about Buck and how much he missed him and a comforting realisation that the teasing wouldn’t go too far – because Buck wouldn’t let it. His knight in shining armour would always protect him.He pushed open the door and entered the small office. The name on the door told him he was in same place called Pikes Hill. On entering from the gloom outside he had to squint in the glare of the harsh neon lighting. There was a counter barring access to the rear of the building, in front of it was a small open area with a long wooden bench under the window, next to the door he had just passed through. Above the counter was an old four bladed fan and an ultraviolet bug zapper which crackled in to life every now and again, and the whole place smelt stale and sweaty. It was also deserted; stepping up to the counter Ezra scanned for some way to attract attention. A bell had rung when he entered but no one came to investigate. Finally he spotted a button on the wall by the counter, an old and faded bit of paper taped to the wall next to it read ‘Push for Service’, as if the local populous were so lacking in normal intelligence they needed the operation of a door bell explained to them. He duly pushed and somewhere in the distance he heard a second bell ring.
He was just contemplating ringing again when a man in a tan uniform ambled through the door behind the counter. He was about JD’s age but some how where JD looked almost childlike, this man looked old, like an old man in a young body, he had none of Dunne’s life and innocence in his eyes, none of their young friends' exuberance in his movements.
"Yeah? What?" he drawled.
"I have to report a robbery and ask for your assistance," Ezra explained calmly, taking an instant dislike to the man, who was apparently a deputy sheriff.
He was about Vin’s height, and had probably been slim in school, but was now beginning to put on weight, despite his youth. A beer gut hung just over the edge of his regulation pants, it was pushed up tight against the heavy belt with it’s gun, night stick, radio, and cuffs. His hair was fine and sandy, just beginning to thin, his blue eyes dull and bored looking.
He sighed with exaggerated exasperation.
"Here…" he pulled a pad out from under the counter, "…fill in one of these forms." With that he turned to go again.
"Sir, I do not think you have understood the problem. I cannot fill out your form as I have no pen, I have n…" The deputy felt his pockets and then looked under the counter before locating a rather tattered pen and placing it on counter top.
"I wan’ it back," he growled.
"As I was saying," Ezra continued. "I have no money, no credit card, no phone an no ID. I …"
"You from Georgia?"
Ezra looked at the man somewhat bewildered.
"Yes, but that is of no import at this juncture sir, I require the use…"
"I met a guy from Georgia, he 's a faggot. You a faggot, boy?" He eyed the expensive, if sweat drenched shirt, designer tie hanging undone around the collar and what were, even to his untutored eyes, expensive suit pants and shoes. "’Cause you sure dress like one. You a cock sucker like that other Georgia boy?"
The man was laughing, clearly enjoying his own joke; the unmistakable aroma of stale beer assaulted Ezra's finally attuned olfactory sense. He wanted to say ‘yes’ and further more he was damn proud of it! As it happened he gave great head, a skill he was refining and practising all the time. But he didn’t.
"Sir," he injected as much menace as he could into the one word. "While I am from the fine State of Georgia, your comments and suggestions are offensive. I need to report the theft of my valuables, arrange for someone to go out to my car, which is about seven or eight miles down the hill, and fix it, further …"
"What’s wrong with it?"
"It has a flat tyre and I was unable to remove it. While I was trying accomplish what, as it turns out, was a task requiring Herculean strength; two young men in a pick up drew up beside the car and snatched my bag and my jacket. Unfortunately their licence plate was obscured by what was clearly a strategically placed quantity of mud."
"Jeez! You sure you ain't a faggot?" the deputy asked again, as he tried to make sense of Ezra's words.
"Officer, I need assistance," Ezra pointed out, trying to change the subject.
"Fill out the form, then ya cin' use the phone, ya say ya got no money?"
"No, I was robbed, how many time do I have to tell you?"
"You'll have t' call collect. Here."
Before Ezra could explain that calling collect was no good, the form and the old pen appeared before him. Deciding discretion was the better part of valour for now, he sat on the bench and looked at the form. It had apparently been reproduced on a Xerox machine about a thousand times, most of the words were indistinguishable black blobs and the page was covered in little (and some not so little) black fleck marks. Doubtless, Ezra mused; their copier takes a lot of abuse.
Needing to get off his very sore feet, he moved back and sat on the bench. To aid his filling in of the form he crossed his right leg over his left and instantly things changed!
"Gun!" someone shouted.
Instinctively Ezra began to reach for his own gun in his ankle holster.
"Move and you die asshole!" The voice shouted.
Ezra froze; realising just in time the command was directed at him. He looked up at the deputy, who now had his big revolver in his right hand, his left clamped under his right to steady it. Behind him a second man in the same uniform had just arrived gun in hand. Ezra held his hands up slowly.
"Sir," he began. "I apologise. I am a Federal Agent, I should have told you that, and about my gun, at the outset."
The gun facing him did not move.
"Good story, prove it!" the first deputy responded.
"I have told you, I was robbed…" Just how often do I have to say it before it penetrates? He wondered. "and I have no ID. If you would allow me to call one of my fellow agents he could vouch for me."
"You think I's born yisterday or what? How 'd I know who I's talking t'?"
"We perhaps you could call the ATF offices in Denver? They will vouch for me. My name is…"
"Denver? What's a Georgia boy doin' in God damn Denver?"
"Where I choose to live and work is my own affair sir. As I was saying my name is Ezra Standish, I am a member of Team Seven, my boss' name is Christopher Larabee. The number is …"
"We'll look up the number, in the mean time keep ya hands up. Walt?"
The man inclined his head to his fellow deputy, who nodded and moved behind him. With both guns trained on him Ezra stayed just were he was, not moving a muscle. He remained like that as Walt removed his gun, and stepped back.
"That the only one?" Walt asked.
"Yes."
Ezra's tiny pistol, which he always kept with him undercover, was in his jacket pocket, ready to declare at the airport. It was unloaded and since it was a specialist gun he doubted the perpetrators would be able to acquire any ammunition, without drawing attention to themselves, besides it was unlikely they would have any interest in such a small calibre weapon. In this neck of the woods size mattered, in all things.
"Look, I told you I'm a Federal Agent, we have to do something about the felons who have absconded with my possessions, collect the car, and contact my fam… friends."
Ezra was finally losing his patience. He was hot, tired, hurt, aggrieved, he had missed his flight, at best it would be midday Saturday before he was reunited with Buck and his only source of help were the two sorriest S.O.B's to ever put a uniform on. He had almost said family, to him Buck was family, and to a lesser extent so were the others, and Maude? Was she family in the true sense of the word? Technically yes. By blood yes. But true family? No, not really. All this flashed through his head in a millisecond.
"Well Pete?" Walt asked.
"'Far as I know, you’re a dangerous armed, serial killer, and until I know different you go in a cell," Pete said, his gun still on Ezra. "Cuff him."
"Cuff me? Cuff me? Why? Where are we going?" Ezra protested.
"Cell, out back, it's not far but it's the regulations, you gonna co-operate?" Walt asked, holstering his gun and taking out his cuffs.
With due resignation and dramatic eye rolling and sighing Ezra held his wrists out.
"Do I at least get my one phone call? I am permitted one call, you know," he pointed out.
"Now see if you was really a Fed you'd know that ain't so."
Ezra cursed himself for underestimating the two Neanderthals.
"I don't have t' let ya phone no one. Now git like a good boy."
With that Walt pushed Ezra ahead of him and toward the small cellblock at the rear of the building. Ezra noted all the cells were empty.
"And a meal, I am entitled to a meal," he pointed out, thought in truth he shuddered to think what passed for prison fare in such a place. There might be some bread that was edible at least.
As the cell door was opened, he was uncuffed.
"It's gone nine, suppers all over, ya got a drinking fountain in the cell, now git in there." With that Walt gave him a shove between the shoulder blades and slammed the cell door shut.
+ + + + + + +
"Errr hello Mrs Standish," Buck all but stammered, for once at a loss for words in the presence of a lady.
Maude frowned at him, unable to understand why her presence should cause him to be so flustered and flustered was the only way to describe his current state. And from her few meetings with the tall ladies' man, she knew it to be very uncharacteristic.
"Are you alright Mr Wilmington?" she enquired.
"Yes!" he responded all too quickly. "I mean, yes I'm fine, what brings you to Denver?" he asked more calmly. As if I didn't know he said to himself.
"I find myself en route from the east coast to the west with a weekend free, so I thought I would stop and visit with my darlin' boy for a few days," she explained.
This was what Buck was afraid of. Ezra had promised him he would tell his mother all about him and Buck, but he wanted to do it face to face, and Buck respected that. But he didn't want it now, in a public airport, and he sure as hell didn't want to share his reunion or his holiday weekend with Maude Standish!
Buck just continued to stare at her. "Oh," he finally said.
Maude raised and eyebrow, but continued. "Why are you here Mr Wilmington, whom are you meeting?"
"As it happens Ezra, he's been on assignment, just finished today."
"Well that is perfect." Maude smiled at him. "You can put my luggage in your car…wait, what kind of car do you have?" She wasn't about to travel in the old jeep she had seen Mr Tanner drive or the elderly and unreliable thing the nice Mr Sanchez had once driven up in.
"I've got the Jag here," he explained.
"Ezra's Jaguar?"
"Umm yeah, he err… asked me to look after it, you know keep it turned over."
"Very well, the Jaguar will be acceptable, kindly place my luggage in the trunk, I will wait here and then we can meet Ezra together, it will be a wonderful surprise for him."
Oh yeah he'll be surprised all right! Buck acknowledged to himself, but he could see no way out of it without making her suspicious, so with a nod he took her luggage trolley from the porter, who had been standing in impassive silence the whole time. Since Maude made no move to tip the poor man, Buck fished in his pocket and found a $5 bill, which he thrust into the man's hand.
Maude's luggage didn't fit in the Jaguar's limited trunk space; he was forced to put some of the smaller ones on the back seat. He had to wonder how anyone needed seven cases and a suit carrier? But cursing Maude's vanity was just a way of not thinking about what was to come. Ezra wouldn't make a scene in the airport, but on the ride home or when they got home he would tell her about his new domestic arrangements. Of that Buck had no doubt, Ezra had promised him to tell his mother about Buck and the role he now played in her son's life, and Ezra would keep his word. After all with Buck's clothes in the guest room closets and the two men sharing a bed, it would be hard not to.
The two of them waited in the arrivals hall as the screen told them Ezra's flight had landed. Buck stood and occasionally paced, Maude sat, impassive. Passengers eventually began to file out, Buck stood up against the rail and scanned every face, but Ezra wasn't there. The throng thinned out and still Ezra wasn't there. He pulled out his cell and called his lover's cell phone. He was told the phone he was calling 'may be switched off'. Frustrated he put the phone back. Maybe Ezra had spotted his mother and snuck out another way, a Federal Agent's badge could get you places the general public couldn't go. But he dismissed the idea, Ezra wouldn't do that without telling him, or at least switching on his cell phone, unless… Maybe it wasn't switched off but out of power? Buck clung to this ray of hope, he would establish that Ezra wasn't in the airport, then go home, he was sure Ezra would be there, composing himself for the coming fireworks with Maude.
+ + + + + + +
Chris stared out of his hotel window at the capital's skyline. The Washington Monument drew his eye, it was floodlit and stood out, even with the light pollution. Chris forgot sometimes just how bright cities were. Out at the ranch, the night sky was black as ink, the stars so clear and bright you could almost drown in them, even the Milky Way was clear as it snaked across the sky. Here he had trouble finding the Big Dipper! His eyes moved back to the monument, and his mind drifted to Vin. His mind drifted to Vin more and more these days. It made him angry, but he couldn't decide why. He still couldn't understand his feelings about Buck and Ezra. One thing he was clear on was that he was mad at Buck.
"You don't know me". That was what Buck had said, they had been as close as brothers, closer than many real brothers, and yet Buck had kept part of himself hidden, secret, he had lied to him, for years. The trouble was, as mad as he was, he couldn't blame Buck. How do you tell your best friend, a friend who has told his fair share of anti gay jokes, that you're bi-sexual? And since, as he said, he hadn't been actively involved or even looking at any men since before they met, why should he? Still he was angry.
He remembered watching the two of them on Sunday, stretched out on Josiah's sofa together, Ezra asleep as unusual, his head resting on Buck's chest, tucked up under his chin. They looked content, like two cats on a sunny porch, relaxed, and peaceful. Buck had caught him staring, and given him a knowing look, that just made Chris madder. So much so that later that day when he had walked in on them in the kitchen, kissing, he had exploded.
"Chris almighty! Can't you two do that some place private?"
The lovers broke apart, Buck moving instinctively to stand between Ezra and Chris.
"Christopher Larabee!" Josiah came into the kitchen behind him. "This is my house, and you will not speak to my guests in my house that way."
Rarely did Sanchez use his size and age against anyone, much less Chris, but when he did, nothing and no one was going to stand against him. Chris glared at all three of them and turning on his heels, without the beer he had been seeking, left.
Buck just stared at the closed door, still standing protectively in front of Ezra. When it became clear he wasn’t going to move, Ezra stepped around him to face Sanchez.
"We are sorry, Mr Sanchez, we will refrain from physical affection in your home, from now on. I, that is to say we, do not wish to be the course of ill feeling, we…"
"Ezra son, stop right there. This is my home, and as far as I am concerned, you can kiss and cuddle as much as you want under my roof, wherever you want. Love is a beautiful thing, a gift from God and I like beautiful things in my home."
All this Chris heard from the other side of the door. He hadn't seen Buck staring at the other side of the door, silently imploring him to understand, nor had he seen or heard Ezra turn the big man's face from the closed door, and, gently stroking his slightly stubbed cheek, whisper to him to have patience with his old friend.
When the two of them returned from the kitchen, he was back in his customary chair, and didn’t look up when the lovers came back. He was therefore surprised to find an open bottle of beer handed to him as Buck walked past on his way back to the sofa. It was a peace offering, of sorts, and it just made Chris even madder, because even though they were the ones doing wrong, he was the villain, somehow everything was all turned around. Chris didn't like that. He liked things straightforward, clean cut, good and bad, right and wrong. Grey was just confusing, it blurred the edges, made you weak, indecisive and vulnerable.
Shaking off these memories, he went back to just staring out of the window at the Washington Monument and wishing he had worn loser-fitting pants.
+ + + + + + +
Buck walked back to where Maude Standish was waiting impatiently, her toe tapping out a rhythm of pure irritation.
"He wasn't on the flight," Buck said solemnly, unable to hide the worry his news brought with it.
It wasn't a worry Maude shared.
"Why am I not surprised? The boy always was tardy, no doubt he missed the departure." She stood, brushing some unseen speck of dust from her immaculate suit jacket, in a gesture that was so reminiscent of Ezra, Buck had to hold back a whimper as he fought to control his fear and disappointment. "Come let us depart this place and retire for the night, I…"
"Ezra wouldn't miss a plane and not call, he wouldn't let m…us, worry about him," Buck stated firmly.
"My dear Mr Wilmington, I don't think you know my son very well, he…"
"No! You're the one who doesn’t know him. He knew I was coming to meet him, he called me to say he was on his way to the airport, he would have called if he missed the flight, my cell has been on all evening." With that and without waiting for a reply from the stunned woman, he pulled out his cell phone again and dialled up his own answer machine, and accessed the messages, there were three but none from Ezra, then he called Ezra's number and did the same, there were no messages.
Turning back to Mrs Standish he composed himself. "I'll drive you to your hotel and then I have to make some calls."
"Hotel? I do not stay in hotels when I visit my son, he has a very acceptable guest room, I have a key to his apartment, so please drive me there now."
Buck stood in stunned silence. He really couldn't handle this now, not until he knew Ezra was all right.
"Right …okay …umm," he stammered out. "We have to go some place first." With that he turned and left, leaving her to follow as best she could as he stretched his long legs in an effort to get to the car as fast as possible without actually running.
+ + + + + + +
Ezra lay down on the narrow iron frame bad and tried not to think about the unpleasant odours that wafted from the mattress and less than fresh bed linen every time his weight disturbed it. He interlaced his hands behind his head, unwilling to let his hair touch the pillow, and stared at the ceiling. I'm not here, he told himself, this isn't happening. He closed his eyes, he was at home in bed with Buck. Strong hands were stroking up and down his chest, the calluses on those long, talented fingers giving a nice sensation on the up stroke, that countered with the softest touch of the down stroke. He was lying on his side; his back pressed up against his lover's chest. Long, strong limbs enclosed him in a protective cocoon of love. Soft breath warmed his neck, the gentle vibration of his lovers heartbeat, detectable through his skin, reassured him he was not alone in the world.
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