Feedback: Yep, I'd be most appreciative...like to know if you liked, or didn't.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't profit from 'em, don't belong to me...<sigh>
Comments: Thanks to Diana, for encouragement and idle chatter as always...and for reining in commas and barks that have no business being there!
Pairing: C/V
"Y' ain't gonna get that pole into that hole."
Chris looked up, the slowly drawled words spoken to his back not only surprising him when he'd thought himself alone, but somehow also driving like spikes into his head.
Tanner.
He turned to him, Vin standing there so casually, as though he'd just dropped from the sky. As though he'd been standing there for hours. Damn.
Vin was nodding toward the post. "Ground's too froze."
Not only had he been so intent on what he was doing to have not heard Vin ride up, he'd not sensed him either, and that, more than anything, was annoying. Unnerving. He'd been distracted. Too distracted...and that kind of distraction could get a man killed.
He'd wanted to be alone. Clear his mind. Get away from all that was going on, from all that was filling his head. Had ridden out to his small cabin for just that purpose. Two days from now it would be Christmas, the entire town bursting with good will and smiling faces as it had been for at least every day of the last two weeks. Cheer. Initially, he'd managed through the days of festive joy without giving much thought to what was going on around him.
Until two days ago--and then he'd had to leave.
*Had* to leave.
Goddamned mistletoe, anyway.
From nowhere had appeared tiny sprigs of the stuff, all over town...over the bar, as unlikely a place Chris could imagine for it to be; the few women who worked the saloon would, no doubt, be none too pleased to be giving away their affection for free should they be caught underneath. But there the mistletoe hung...
Ready and waiting.
He had a sneaking suspicion Buck had placed it in hopes of catching Inez, thereby giving him just cause to cash in on the customary reward of a kiss. And as he'd sat that late afternoon in the saloon at a table with Nathan, Josiah and Buck, his suspicions had been pretty much confirmed. Buck had been fidgety for a while, eyes drifting from time to time from Inez behind the bar to the tiny hanging plant above it.
"What the hell's got into you?" Nathan asked. The energy Buck emitted was almost palpable.
"Oh, little Christmas spirit, I guess," Buck said then and grinned. Definitely had planted the mistletoe, Chris knew, as he'd sat there watching Buck watch the bar.
Nathan shook his head and sat back in his chair. "Never figured you to be so filled with Christmas cheer, Buck."
"Hell, Nathan. This's m' favorite time of the year."
"Really."
"Oh, yeah. I just love the season of joy and givin'," Buck said, his grin growing even wider.
"Giving and giving," Nathan began while they all watched Buck eye one of the working girls who passed dangerously close to the hanging mistletoe, "and giving. Just make sure y' don't end up getting more than you really want, Buck."
"What he wants," Josiah said, chin thrusting toward the small sprig hanging above the bar, "is to find Senorita Rocillos standing right over there."
Buck shook his head. "Now that's not exactly true--I'd be more'n happy to kiss the first little pretty thing t' wander that way."
"And if they ain't so pretty?"
"Hell, Nathan," Chris said over his beer, "since when has Buck been picky?"
"Well look out, Buck," Josiah said softly. "'Cause a little pretty just got a lot interesting."
Chris watched with the others as of all people, Vin Tanner, not only entered the saloon, but then moved toward the bar. He offered a nod in their direction, at the same time shifting into his customary lean as he waited for his beer to be delivered, a slight grin on his face and no apparent knowledge whatsoever of just what lay in wait above him.
And there had been a winking Buck Wilmington already on the move, seemingly happy to fulfill the promise of mistletoe, even if only as a set up for laughs.
Chris felt his stomach roll. Good Christ.
The look on Vin's face when Buck planted the biggest, wettest, sloppiest kiss on him was enough to drive the others into peals of laughter--only Chris hadn't been laughing. Hadn't so much as given a lift to the corner of his mouth because he'd been too preoccupied in staring. Watching. Watching Buck move in on Vin. Watching lips descend on lips. Watching Vin's face as a brief flash of murderous intent gave way to the intense glow of a blush deepening... Watching the men's reflection in the mirror behind the bar as they'd kissed, for a brief moment even catching Vin's eyes as, for one tiny second, they'd locked gazes in the middle of such absurdity.
And then he'd watched as the tracker let a grin take his features, seeming to give in to the ridiculousness of it all...watched as Buck guided them both back to the table and the laughter of the others.
Most of the others...
Because still he hadn't grinned. Somehow couldn't. He'd sent his eyes into the bottom of his whiskey glass, watched the amber liquid as it swirled, and wished to God he hadn't seen what he'd just seen.
Then again caught Vin's eyes as the man sat down to slaps on the back and good-natured teasing from the others.
For a moment they seemed to be sending each other a silent communication of sorts, like they'd had so many times in the past. Only hell if this time Chris could figure out what Vin was trying to say.
Or maybe he just didn't want to know...
Or maybe he did, and Jesus Christ what the hell was wrong with him lately?
And then a crash came from the back of the room, two cowboys coming to blows over God knew what, and the kiss and Vin and their attempted wordless non-communication were quickly forgotten as fists began to fly around the saloon, and the peacekeepers moved into the fray.
So much for Christmas cheer.
It had been a long night turned longer, and he'd left town very late, thankful for the bright light of a nearly full moon to guide him as he rode toward his cabin.
He'd had to leave. Had to get away from the noise. Get away from the crowds.
Away from Buck and his pranks.
Mostly, away from Tanner.
And now here that man was, standing right in front of him. Smirking.
Sonofabitch.
The thing was though, Vin was right. The post he'd been struggling with dropped from his hands like so much dead weight because what Vin had said was true. The ground was too hard to break. But that really hadn't been the point when he'd started. Hadn't stopped him from working himself into a sweat as he'd tried the past couple days to build on the small addition he was adding to his cabin.
His intention and wont had been to throw himself into some sort of mindless, hard, physical labor so he could not think, not dwell on the thoughts that had been edging around the periphery of his brain the past few weeks. Thoughts he'd managed to successfully ignore up until that day. Up until that moment.
Up until that kiss.
Strange thoughts.
Disturbing thoughts.
Un-Christian like thoughts about a man he called friend.
Exciting thoughts...
And how fucking disturbing was that?
Goddamn Buck and that mistletoe, anyway.
"What the hell you doin' out here?" he practically snarled to Vin, now, because he'd thought the degree of silent anger he'd exuded as he'd left town would have been enough a deterrent to ensure the others--all the others--would have the sense to leave him be.
Apparently not.
"What's Nathan think 'a you out here?" he amended, eyes quickly flicking over the area on Vin's hip that he'd last seen covered in blood just that same god-awful night. Seen...and touched...
The memory of his fingers holding onto that bare flesh as he worked to help steady Vin, fingers resting next to an area that was less than inches away from being too personal--way, too personal--and he remembered how a quick heat had drawn up into his face. He'd had to keep his eyes trained down because he'd been terrified that one of the others might notice he'd been close to blushing. And for Christ's sake, Chris Larabee did not blush.
"What're y' building on out here, anyway?"
Deliberate evasion, or had Vin not heard him ask about Nathan? "That's not an answer,"
Vin shifted his stance, his gaze level. "Don't know what Nathan thinks," he replied. "Didn't tell him I was leavin'."
"You really think it's a good idea, you riding?"
"I'm here, ain't I?"
Which wasn't a surprising reply, considering whom it was he was talking to--Vin went the way of his own mind, injury or no. If the man was determined to ride, he would.
Had.
Still... "You're not afraid a' poppin' open some of Nathan's handiwork, I take it?"
"Already did," Vin stated. "It's okay, though," he added. "I pulled it out."
That was somewhat of a surprise. Chris had seen the severity of that wound--couldn't seem to think of anything else, couldn't, in fact, shake loose the image of Vin laying there covered from the waist down with enough of his own blood to make Chris wonder how much was too much to lose.
He'd pulled the knife free from Vin's leg himself, and then had helped get Vin up to Nathan's clinic, braced him as Nathan had stripped free his pants and felt his chest tighten as he'd gotten a good look at the damage done to Vin by the cowboy's blade that had stabbed into him, too long and too deep to all of their eyes.
Helped Nathan help Vin, mopping up blood, steadying Vin under his hands when he tensed and strained under Nathan's efforts to clean out the wound. Held him, Vin, his own hands quickly turning red from Vin's blood, eased him through Nathan's sewing close the cut, the needle passing through flesh again and again and again. Watched as Vin finally succumbed to a mildly drugged sleep, Nathan saying his body needed plenty of water and rest to replenish the blood it had lost.
He'd stayed, helping the others clean up Vin and the room until Nathan had finally said they were done.
And then he'd run. Wanted to run still as since that night, even as he'd descended the narrow flight of steps leading from Nathan's clinic, the thoughts of Vin that he'd suppressed for weeks came to the forefront with a force he couldn't seem to hold back.
He'd left town then, two days ago...left Vin, hoping to throw himself into work and thereby dismissing unbidden visions...
And even as he'd worked himself into mindless labor, thoughts of Vin and the feel of his naked flesh filled his head during his waking hours, and dreams of him filled it at night. The same dream--Vin and him locked in one sort of embrace or another.
He'd awakened just last night to find himself coming all over his sheets like some horny adolescent.
Christ.
He leaned on the post now, feeling irritable, looking but not looking at Vin as he nodded toward the man's thigh. "You think that was a good idea, pullin' out your own stitches?"
"Done it 'nough times afore, an' besides...was only one of 'em come out. Rest 're still in there holdin' it together. It's fine."
Chris just nodded. No use arguing about the fact since it was done. He chanced a glance to look up at Vin, eyes soaking up the color of Vin's face. Healthy color. Thank God.
Without making a sound, Vin seemed to be chuckling at him somehow, the corner of his mouth tilting just at that angle, and that little move just irritated him even more.
"What you come out here for, Vin?"
"Brought y' something."
He watched as Vin then rummaged in the pocket of his jacket, curiosity holding his eyes on those hands. "Inez made her special biscuits fer supper last night--wrapped up a couple an' asked me was I gonna see you."
"You rode all the way out here just to give me day old biscuits."
Vin stared at him a moment, an odd look in his eyes Chris wasn't sure he could read, but as he stepped a foot closer, Vin's eyelids dropped, shielding that gaze and then he was nodding.
"They's special ones she made and, well..." His voice got quieter as though he was giving pause over some fleeting thought that just as quickly vanished as he was then grinning and holding forth the wrapped cloth. "Anyway, you ain't been around past couple days, an' I figured you was probably gettin' tired a' living on whiskey 'n' beans out here, and so--here."
Chris took the wrapped bundle, opening it. "You said a couple. I see one."
And then Vin grinned. "Got a little hungry, this bein' such a long way out, like y' said."
Not a surprise. Vin was partial to Inez's biscuits, day old or not.
The biscuit was good and he ate it quickly, glancing up to find Vin staring at him again, the hint of the man's tongue licking an almost hidden path along his lower lip. Jesus.
"Suppose you wanted a bite?"
"Yeah," Vin seemed to breathe softly, as though the word just escaped him without intent. He then shook himself and cleared his throat. "Nah...had me quite a bellyful of 'em already."
Awkward silence then, which wasn't something Chris had ever really felt between them, and then somehow whatever gap he'd imagined opening...widened.
Vin shifted into an even harder lean, if that was possible, and Chris tried hard not to let his eyes linger over him for too long, half wishing Vin would just leave.
"Tell Inez thanks."
Vin nodded, seeming to contemplate the landscape before his eyes again settled on Chris. "You, uh, thinkin' a' comin' back t' town anytime soon? You been away 'couple days now."
"Wasn't planning on it."
And then they just stood there until silence seemed to weigh too heavy. Chris bent to lift the post from the ground, happy to find something other than Vin to focus on. Bad enough Vin was robbing him of sleep at night, now he was here in the living flesh. Distracting him again.
Still, though...Inez's biscuits couldn't have been the sole reason Vin rode all this way, injured no less, and Vin was still standing there, hadn't yet left...which was doing nothing to improve the quality of his mood. "Something else you're wantin' to give me? Some half-eaten cookies or something?"
And then Vin seemed to recover himself, was grinning again. "Some kind'a festivities is planned, it bein' Christmas 'n' all. Mary asked me t' tell you 'bout 'em, that Judge Travis was gonna be there, too, so's he can see Billy, I reckon. S'posed to be comin' in on the stage due tomorrow...thought maybe you'd wanna know..."
Chris looked down at the work he'd completed the past two days which hadn't been all that much, and the reason why he'd sweated so hard came to mind and the last thing he wanted to do was surround himself with any sort of merriment. He could talk to Travis later in the week--after Christmas. After he got his mind back to some semblance of reasonable sanity in regards to one Vin Tanner.
Wet dreams--fuckin' craziness. "Don't think I'll be making it."
"Yeah. Kinda figured as much," Vin said, words floating on barely a whisper.
He was still standing there, though, now saying nothing, still as a lake, and Chris sensed there was more than just an invite on his mind. But whatever else Vin had come to say or not say didn't really matter when all Chris could dwell on was how uncomfortable he was beginning to feel with the man standing so close.
Lord, he'd never imagined Vin Tanner could get him all hot and bothered in the dead of winter. Yet here he was...
And there Vin was, looking for all the world like something else was on his mind, looking as if he, too, felt whatever barrier now held them apart. Chris waited, wishing Vin would just hurry the hell on up and say what he had to say so he would then leave. Leave. And then it came...
"Chris I...I wanted to tell y' thanks, too. For all y' done that night, I mean."
The soft words stopped abruptly then, and again Chris flashed on thoughts of two nights ago when his hands wrapped around the fleshy part of Vin's thigh and the stirring that had caused in his own body, even as Vin lay there bleeding...and then flashed on the memory of his waking to wet sheets like some unrestrained kid. He grit his teeth and nodded his acceptance.
"So I...reckon I'll just let Mary 'n' them know you ain't comin'," Vin said, continuing. "She ain't gonna be happy you ain't there. Josiah, neither, I reckon. He's got some sorta sermon t' deliver 'bout Jesus 'n' all. Kinda wants to have an audience he said."
Vin was half-grinning as he imparted the information, somehow brightening as he seemed to remember he had more to say. Chris suddenly had the sense Vin had come for a Sunday visit, chattering away over doings in town...chattering away about pretty much nothing and thinking of more to say just to keep on with the chatter--and all of it odd, really, when he considered it was Vin doing the chattering. Vin who was usually so silent.
"Oh, and Tiny over t' the livery says that bridle he been workin' on fer ya's done, whenever y' want t' pick it up."
He could smell leather on Tanner, the man was standing that close. Leather and sweat...and a scent he couldn't place save to say it just smelled like Vin, and he suddenly felt as foolish as he had in forever with Vin standing so near, making him so uncomfortable. He wasn't used to feeling uncomfortable. Didn't like it. He all but snapped, "You become some sort of messenger boy all of a sudden?"
Vin stilled, his gaze again fixed on a point somewhere out on the horizon, and Chris thought he'd caught a quick flare up of anger there in those distant eyes. Anger...hurt, maybe...or, maybe not. At this point he wasn't sure what he was thinking himself, much less what was passing through Vin's mind.
Vin standing there wasn't helping clear his head, though...and sure as shit wasn't helping extinguish feelings he was trying hard to suppress.
Vin standing there looking so good...
And when he muttered something Chris couldn't make out and turned, clearly heading back to his horse, Chris couldn't help but feel a measure of relief.
Yet...
He wanted Vin to stay. No, wanted him to leave...fuck, he didn't know what he wanted except to get his own control back under control.
God, Tanner had him feeling like he'd lost the better part of his mind.
And then...
Vin turned on his heel and headed not toward the corral, but directly toward the cabin. His gut twisted.
"Where you goin'?" he asked a bit more harshly than he'd intended. What the hell was he doing?
Vin called out to him, moving up onto the small porch and toward the chair sitting there. "Leg kinda aches." He sat. "You mind?"
Mind? Hell. Man hadn't even waited for an answer before making himself at home and Chris felt a new knot beginning to form in his gut. "You just gonna sit there 'n watch me work?"
"Don't know us messenger boys care t' partake in menial labor."
That had him scowling even more. "Menial labor. You been keeping too much company with Ezra."
"Yeah, well...reckon he makes for more pleasant company 'n some others lately."
"Didn't ask y' to stay."
Vin smiled. "Who says I'm talkin' about your company?"
He ignored that. Either Vin would leave or he wouldn't...and hell but he hoped for the first option. He didn't need Vin around.
And yet, did.
Goddammit!
He shuffled the wood around, picked up the very post he'd had in his hands before, looked at the hole and got even angrier. And then Tanner went and opened his mouth...again...
"Ground ain't gonna get any much softer...it's froze you know. Told ya...y' just ain't gonna get that pole in that hole."
"Heard you the first time," he snarled to the man sitting up there like he hadn't a care in the world...driving him crazy...
"Just talkin'..." Vin replied, sitting back and then propping his injured leg onto the top of the porch's wood rail, looking for the world like he'd just planted himself for the day.
"Seems to me you've been talking a lot lately," he groused.
"Yeah well," Vin said, relaxing back in the chair as if he owned the place, "some of us ain't got no problem participatin' in a little friendly conversation.
Vin was smiling. Chris knew that half grin, usually showed when Vin found someone he wanted to needle, and usually that was Ezra. Lord if those two couldn't drive a sane man crazy. But Ezra wasn't around...and he sure as shit wasn't liking it looked like it was him going to get stuck.
"Thought you were heading back," he stated as if an order of command to do just that, then took a step forward and sent a glare that would make most men happy to have the chance to ride away from him in one piece.
Not Tanner, though, the sonofabitch. He just sat there. Still grinning.
"S'pose I could," Vin drawled with clearly no intention of moving. "S'pose I might after a while, but I s'pose I might just sit here a bit more first. Let m' leg rest."
He was watching. Chris could feel Vin's eyes following him around as he gave up trying to get the man to leave, and so directed his attention back to his stack of cut timber.
"Suppose you're just going to sit there, doin' nothing," he said.
"S'pose I could help--but with m' leg an' all, s'pose I prob'ly shouldn't."
Vin was shifting around in the chair, getting his leg comfortable, Chris figured. It irked him and he turned his back on the sight.
"That water y' got over in that barrel?"
Now what? He turned to find Vin still sitting, nodding toward the small container of water he'd left on the last of the porch's steps to stay cold. Close enough if Vin got up to get it, but not within reach if he remained in the chair.
"Yep. Water," he told him.
"Could sure use a drink. Kinda...parched."
Chris shook his head. "Probably comes from eatin' all my biscuits." He heard Vin's soft chuckle, but kept his eyes trained on the hole in the ground he'd made. The hole he couldn't get the pole into--too frozen--which he knew even before he'd started digging. Certainly knew before Tanner had ridden out and told him so.
Fuckin' know-it-all tracker.
Vin hadn't yet moved, was still sitting there eyeing the water...then eyeing him.
Chris let out a huff. "Suppose you're expecting me to get it for you?"
Vin gave him a quick grin. "Leg is gettin' awful achy. An' I am thirsty."
He stalked to the water and dipped the ladle, filling it, and then handed it to Vin who drank it down. He waited until blue eyes met his. "Suppose it's just too damned far for you to put it back?"
"S'pose that'd be about right." Vin's eyes remained steadily trained on his as he handed back the ladle.
A tiny bolt of lightning seemed to flicker through his body as their hands held onto it at the same time. Goddamned tracker.
"Suppose now you'll be expectin' breakfast or something, too," he growled, "since you've been so free with doling out all this help and advice." What the hell was Tanner after sticking around here? Sure wasn't the scintillating conversation.
Vin, at least, had the grace to sound as if he doubted the sincerity of the non-invite. Maybe he would leave soon.
"Nice of you t' offer, but..."
He could sense Vin still staring at him from under the brim of his hat, blue eyes seeming to be filled with some sort of triumphant amusement.
Irritated him he wasn't in on the joke. "But what," Chris prompted.
"Depends on what y' got."
"What I've got?"
"T' eat. Am kinda hungry. Kinda got a hankerin' fer flapjacks..."
"Got no flapjacks."
"Oh. Well...steak 'd sit right well..."
Man wants steak, ordering as though he were sitting in some fancy restaurant. Unbelievable. "Got beans."
"Beans? Hell..."
"You can leave."
Vin seemed to mull that over, and for a split second, it looked like he might go...but then, "Beans is okay. I like beans."
He sneered. He couldn't help it. Anger was the only thing keeping him sane. "Lucky me."
"Got any cornbread? Kinda like cornbread--"
Chris held out the now empty handkerchief. "Would'a had biscuits, but seems someone couldn't contain himself."
Vin did smile then, broadly, all the way to his eyes. Chris noted the way creases formed in the corners and he was suddenly consumed with an urge to touch...almost missing Vin's next reply...
"Like you didn't suck yours down in one big ol' swallow," Vin said, laughing.
Those words had him pausing for too long a moment, and his eyes again caught Vin's as he thought he'd detected maybe a hint of something more than amusement behind them--something that scared him, as though Vin was in on not a joke, but a huge secret, and Chris left wondering what that secret was.
He turned back to the pile of logs still not in the ground, trying to erase the faint stirrings this man's voice started as he shifted them around, collecting his mind before heading back toward the small cabin and Vin.
What the hell had made him ask Vin to stay and eat?
Not that he'd really asked him at all. But it looked like Vin was here to stay none the less...and expecting something by way of food...and talk.
But hell, he and Vin had engaged in more comfortable silent conversations in the past few months they'd known one another--why should any of that change now? He could eat with the man. Wasn't like he was going to act on any of those feelings stirring around in the deep of his gut.
Not now.
Not here.
Not with Vin.
Not ever.
Maybe what he really needed was to ride to Purgatory to find Maria. She always put him in a decent mood. He never looked at the few women working in the town's saloon--something about sharing with friends was a bit off-putting. And even though he knew Maria wasn't exactly holding herself over for him alone, he at least knew none of the other six were partaking in her specialties.
Nathan had Rain, and frequented the Seminole village every chance he got.
JD had Casey in whatever odd, young relationship they were working toward--and he doubted the kid bothered to put that in jeopardy by laying hands on any of the working women around.
Ezra seemed more interested in cards than women, though his little escapade with the girl from the Chinese camp working the railroad proved he had interests somewhere of female persuasion.
Buck seemed to know personally every detail about every one of the ladies working the bars in most every town around, happily spending his nights with one or more of them, that fact alone being good enough reason for Chris to want to keep away from the local girls.
And Josiah...Chris wasn't exactly positive he dipped into those working the local saloon, though he'd doubt more that the man didn't partake in something somewhere...
Which left Vin. And other than the fateful wagon train they'd been forced to accompany--Vin's attraction to a woman more in love with the idea of making her husband jealous than running off with a man wanted by the law...
He'd not seen Vin with any other woman. Ever.
Which all in all at the present time meant absolutely nothing.
He watched Vin wince as he rose from the chair, his stance easy despite the fact his leg had to be giving him pains. He'd seen the wound; it hadn't been slight."Gettin' kinda hungry. Appreciate y' askin' me t' stay," Vin said and, as if on cue, Chris heard the man's stomach growl.
"Don't know I did--way I remember, you invited yourself," Chris corrected, not in the mood for any of this. Not in the mood for Vin to be making himself so comfortable. Sure as hell not in the mood--not even understanding--what was making Vin prattle on so aimlessly. What had gotten into him?
He watched the man and his limp move to the side as he climbed the steps to the porch. He nodded to the damaged leg. "That okay?"
"Yeah. Just takes me a bit longer 'n I'd like to get one place t' 'nother."
This had been a mistake. He'd come out here to escape, and now here was exactly what he'd run from--the one man whose presence he craved.
No, wait. Hell...not craved.
No.
He enjoyed Vin's company most of the time--the man was quiet when a man ought to be, good in a fight. Could handle himself--the one person he'd like to have at his back should the need ever arise.
But...he didn't 'crave' being around Vin.
Did he?
Christ. Just make the man something to eat, Larabee, and get him on his way.
"Know what I like about yer place?" Vin asked, following behind as he moved to let Chris pass first through the door.
"Hmm?" he grunted.
"S' quiet," Vin said softly. "Like quiet."
"Huh," Chris said, heading toward the small table holding his cooking gear. Somehow his small cabin just got a lot tinier with Vin's presence filling up the space.
"Know what I like 'bout bein' in town?"
"Hmm?" Bad enough he had to make the man food...was he supposed to make conversation as well? What was with all the questions...
"Nights. Gets real quiet in the night...ever'thing all dark 'n nobody around. Just--"
"Quiet," Chris finished. He half turned. "For someone likes the quiet, you sure got a lotta words fillin' it up."
Vin took a step back. "Just feelin' bit chatty, I reckon."
"Wasn't anyone in town would talk to you--y' gotta come all the way out here?" he asked as Vin then seemed to follow right behind his every move. What the hell was he doing? He'd take a step, Vin would take a step. Like he had some sort of scruffy shadow behind him... He turned a glare at him. "Think you can sit yourself down?"
And then Vin did sit. Thank the Lord.
He moved the large pot to the center of the table and added some sliced salt pork to the beans there.
"Got any greens t' put in there? Beans 'n greens taste awful good."
"Just got beans."
"An' bacon, right? Y' got bacon?"
"It's in there."
Vin nodded. "Oh, okay." He sat for a while and said nothing. Chris was grateful. He was trying his best not to dwell on the fact that Vin was less than a body's length away from him. Next cabin he built was going to be twice as roomy.
"Got eggs?"
"Beans."
"Wouldn't mind an' egg 'r two."
"Got beans."
"Y' ain't got no layers settin' around out there?"
For Christ's sake, was he looking to get shot? "I got beans."
Vin sighed. "Guess I'll have beans, then. Beans is good. Like beans."
Despite the fact his nerves were beginning to fray, now Chris found himself on the verge of a grin. Damn the man, anyway. "You know what I like about you, Tanner?"
Vin was smiling broadly now. "My winnin' ways?"
Chris shook his head. "No, that ain't it."
"You're all heart, Larabee," Vin growled.
"Best be nice, you're talking to the man who's makin' you breakfast."
"Beans," Vin said, the word almost accusatory.
"Beans," Chris confirmed. He stepped onto the small porch for the water there, sensing Vin get up and move to right behind him, sensing Vin stopping just at the door.
Chris turned as he walked back inside, barely missing running into Vin. "What th' hell you doin'?" Vin's closeness never had bothered him before--but now it seemed the man wanted to attach himself to every move Chris made...
And that was making him even more bothered. Very bothered.
Vin was looking up at him, eyes wide and full of innocent...guile. No, not innocent at all. Chris knew something was going on in there...something...
"Thought I'd help," Vin shrugged, "seein's how I practic'ly invited m'self to breakfast n all."
"You did invite yourself."
"Yeah, well," Vin was mumbling, "was afore I knew I'd be eatin' beans."
"Don't like it...town is that way." He grabbed the water jug and moved back inside, Vin still standing on the porch, fumbling with his pockets. What now? "You comin' back in?"
Vin was looking up, an odd half-grin shaping his mouth. Just looking at those lips made Chris groin twitch and he was back to rather wishing Vin would just ride on out. He went to the table, turning his back on the tracker and the next thing he knew the man was standing right next to him again.
"There something you need?" Chris asked, not feeling especially pleased by the fact Vin seemed to be in an overly social mood. What happened to the more taciturn side to this man, anyway?
"Y' mean 'sides beans?"
Chris moved quickly past him, gathering up supplies and then half turning when he heard a soft gasp from Vin, who was now bent over, rubbing at his thigh. A split second of staring at Vin's hands working the flesh there, and then he shook himself, nodding toward the man's leg. "That botherin' you?"
"Nah," Vin replied, then ducked his head. "Well, some..."
Chris pointed the wood spoon toward the chair. "Sit."
Vin sat.
Chris just stared at him, watching as he stretched his wounded leg out. Man was in a mood--an odd mood, especially for Vin--and none of which was really doing a thing to detract from his wanting to wallow in his own surliness. The more he didn't understand why Vin was so amused, so talkative, the more he felt confused...and he hated feeling confused.
What would Josiah say? He had to get his balance back.
A few long minutes ticked by, neither of them saying anything as Chris readied the food. Then:
"Wanna hear a joke JD told me?"
"No."
Back to silence. He gave the beans a stir.
"You 'n Buck known each other a long time, huh?"
"Some years now, yeah."
"Oh."
Oh. What did that mean? He moved back to the table, stopping with the next of Vin's words.
"Man could suck meat from a walnut."
"What?"
Vin was nodding. "Just from usin' his lips."
"What?" He could feel his heart quicken. Where the hell was Vin going with this?
"Y' ever kiss ol' Bucklin"?
"What!" Racing...his heart was racing.
Vin sighed, fingers playing with the top to the tin full of bacon grease that lay on the table. "Must practice a lot." He glanced up to Chris. "An awful lot."
"I...wouldn't know."
Vin smiled...no, was grinning. "Take my word...he's good."
How the hell had they got onto the subject of Buck's kissing? "Yeah well...you looked like you were one step away from shooting him." God, he didn't want to think about that little scene in the saloon.
"I was," Vin said. "Almost did, but--"
"But?"
"But hell. Surprised the shit outta me, and can't go around shootin' friends--ain't got all that many t' begin with. 'Sides, I ain't never been kissed quite like that afore."
"That good, huh?"
"I meant, by a man I call friend."
"Oh." Now it was his turn to utter a feeble response. What was he supposed to say to that?
"Y' seen that side 'a beef ol' man Stokes got himself last week?"
"What?"
"Biggest bull I ever laid eyes on...I swear, Chris, he got a prize there. Got all the cows mooing..." He laughed. "Think even Bucklin might be jealous."
Chris stared at him for a long moment, watching as Vin spooned himself up a healthy portion of beans onto his plate. What was he talking about? And then, it seemed, Vin was off on another tangent...
"J'siah says he thinks it might snow in a couple days. Y' know...fer Christmas," Vin said then wiped a spoon off clean on his shirt. "'Course Ezra, he's already layin' odds against it..." He picked up a tin cup and stared into it, then held it out. "Got coffee?"
Chris moved to the pot sitting on the small stove. He poured Vin a full cupful, watching as the man heaped spoonfuls of sugar into it.
"Like it sweet. Nice 'n sweet...real sweet." He was staring at Chris, all the while stirring the liquid around and around. "I got my doubts, y' know."
Chris's stomach tightened. "About..."
"Snow." He sipped at the steaming cup. "It's too warm."
"The coffee?"
Vin chuckled. "The weather. We get anything it'll most like be rain. Maybe then the ground 'll soften up some." He took a large bite of beans, then gave Chris a long look. "You don't much like it, do y'?"
"Cold weather--rain's fine." He stared at his plate. What were they doing talking about the weather?
Again Vin laughed lightly, a soft, breathy exhale. Chris found he was liking the sound and not liking the fact he was. He'd rather stay in his foul mood, yet something about Tanner was pulling it from him.
"Not the cold," Vin clarified. "I meant yer cabin here."
Chris looked around the inside of his place. Nothing fancy by any stretch of the imagination...how had Ezra described it when he'd first seen it? Something about an oversized outhouse. He'd almost shot the man on the spot for the remark. "Suits me fine."
Vin looked quizzically at him. "Guessin' you must be none too happy with it if yer tryin' in the middle of winter to build on it."
"I like it just fine."
Vin just nodded to that. Then, "I like it hot 'n' spicy...do you?"
Chris almost choked. "What?"
"The beans. Reckon you like 'em bland." He was poking around the plate with a spoon. "Y' got any a' that stuff Inez uses in her cookin'? That pepper stuff?"
He shook his head. Jesus, Vin was all over the place--so much for quiet. He'd never heard him so chatty before in all the months they'd spent together. Worse, he was finding himself enjoying it. Couldn't even stay in a bad mood without Tanner ruining it.
Vin shoveled a few more spoonfuls of beans into his overworking mouth, then pushed his plate slightly away, leaning back in his chair with the tin cup cradled in both his hands as though seeking warmth. He grinned...or had he ever stopped?
Chris wasn't sure he could take much more. "What the hell's got into you?"
Vin sipped his coffee. "Whattaya askin'?"
"You looking t' get shot?"
"Not 'specially."
He rose to refill his coffee. "Well I never heard you have so much t' say."
Vin slowly got to his feet. "Mood's struck me, I reckon. Dunno why I got words tumblin' out...hell, maybe some a' Buck got left a'hind after he kissed me."
Chirs almost dropped his cup. Jesus...if he didn't know better, he'd swear Vin was baiting him. Looking for a reaction...
Or maybe he'd just never really listened to the tracker that closely before. Maybe he always spoke in double entendres.
Either way, he was definitely feeling unbalanced, not to mention overheated.
And then, as if Vin sensed it... "You hot?"
Any more questions like this and Chris wasn't sure he'd make it. "No...why?"
Vin pointed toward him with his cup. "Sweatin'."
Chris sent him a fairly decent scowl, though he actually was feeling in a better mood than earlier. "I'm sweating because I just cooked you breakfast."
A smirk. "That what you call what we ate?" Vin asked, looking at the mess on the table. "Reckon I can at least earn m' keep." He moved toward the dirty plates, suddenly crouching down and hissing like a steam kettle ready to blow.
"What 'd you do?" He'd not seen Vin move, but somehow realized the man must have jarred his wound, probably on the corner of the table. "Here, sit down," he instructed, gently guiding Vin into a chair, and wincing as he caught sight of dark drops of blood soaking through the fabric of his light colored pants.
"Shit," Vin said.
"Hurtin'?"
Vin looked up at him then shook his head. "It'll keep..."
"Let me look."
He'd thought Vin would protest peeling out of his pants, but then the man surprised him yet again.
"Okay," Vin said as fingers began to unbutton, "but just a peek now."
He wasn't sure just what to say to that...sounded like something Buck might say, and in thinking that, thought, too, maybe Vin was right: Maybe a little of Buck had rubbed off on Tanner--just what had passed between them during that kiss?
And what the hell was coming over him to even be wondering?
Jesus, get a grip Larabee.
He glanced at Vin, could just see the white of his teeth through his hair as he was looking down, but what kind of smile--or smirk--or grit of his jaw from pain was around those teeth he couldn't tell. What the hell was going on here? Before he could figure the answer--though he wasn't sure there even was one--Vin was undoing his gunbelt, pushing his pants to his knees and peeling open that side of his underclothes enough to expose the wound.
Sure enough, blood was seeping from the gash from where stitches had once been holding flesh closed but were now slack enough to let it flow. It was fairly clear the one stitch Vin had removed had unleashed the others.
"Well hell," Vin huffed.
Chris frowned. "Where's the bandage Nathan got on ya?"
"Come off when I popped that stitch 'n I left it--was all full 'a that nasty smelling stuff, anyways."
He should have known. "That's called medicine to help it heal." He bent and took a good look at the gash. "Gotta be resewn."
"Don't think so," Vin replied and moved to stand. "Just gimme something I can wipe it up with, will ya? Blood's hell to get outta these pants."
He glanced at the blood staining the pants, hardly seen with the dirt and God knew what else was already there. Since when did Vin care about laundering? Running a hand through his hair, he then handed Vin a rag, finding himself staring at the line of blood trickling down Vin's hip and trying not to look too closely at anything else. "Vin--"
"It's okay, Chris...Nathan can see to it when I get back t' town." He looked around. "Where'd I put my hat?"
"You can't ride out like that."
Vin just stared at him, that same half-grin ever present. "Rode in like this." He stood and began pulling his pants right.
"Wait," Chris said, stopping him and not at all sure he should have, not truly sure what he stopped him for. Couldn't force Vin to let him restitch him--and Lord knew he wasn't the best hand at doing that--and didn't he just want the man to leave, anyway?
But somehow it didn't seem right Vin was leaving and bleeding all at the same time. "It's gotta be fixed."
He hadn't meant to sound so abrasive, but Vin nodded just the same. And sat, pants still gaping open. They were both looking at the blood seeping out from the gash, at least, that was where Chris tried to train his eyes.
"You gonna get the whiskey?"
Chris turned to get the bottle sitting on the table. "Yeah, guess it ought 'a be cleaned out first."
Vin grabbed the bottle from him. "Not for the cut. For me." He took a deep slug, half wincing. "You think I'm lettin' you come at me with a needle...hell, I seen the way you sew on buttons. I'll do this m'self."
"Yeah, you did such a great job pulling the one out."
"Ah, hell." Vin took another swig of whiskey then twisted some in the chair, pushing at his longjohns, half his ass now exposed. "Have at it, then."
Chris grabbed back the bottle, wanting to drink it all down as he tried to ignore the pale flesh staring him in the face. It looked so...soft... Instead, he poured a small amount of whiskey in a cup and dropped the needle and thread in after. Then he did take a drink.
"Hands 're cold," Vin griped at the same time he set his palm near Vin's wound.
"Hold still."
"I ain't goin' nowheres."
He sewed close the cut as quickly as he could, not missing the small movements and faint gasps of breath Vin emitted with each of the needle's piercing, and then with the last one nearly done, let loose his own breath.
Vin flinched. "Wanna watch where you're stickin' that thing? Ain't like I can't feel that, y' know."
"Quit bitching or I'll end up sticking you somewhere you won't want."
"Or will," Vin mumbled on a laugh.
Chris frowned as he tried to discern words mixed with Vin's faint chuckle. What the hell was he saying? He began tying off the bloodied thread. "Done," he pronounced.
"So 'm I," Vin said, already pulling his clothes into place before Chris could suggest placing a makeshift bandage over the wound.
But Vin didn't seem to care, just stood and stretched, clearly testing the give of the new stitches. "Done good, Chris. Guess I ought' a be thankin' you again."
"Best let Nathan have a look when you get back. Don't want it gettin' any worse."
Vin set his hat, nodding again as he moved slowly toward the door. He stopped and turned. "I'll let Travis know you'll be ridin' in in a few days, then."
"Never figured you cared all that much for Christmas," Chris said, the thought coming from out of nowhere as he watched Vin limp away. "You going to that party 'n all."
"Ain't goin'," Vin said. "You know me...I'm ain't good with that kind'a thing--all them people 'n' celebratin'. Figure I'd head out somewheres when the time comes, head back when it's over."
Now Chris nodded. Neither of them was fond of Christmas or the celebrating that came with it, each for their own reasons.
He looked at Vin now, the man about to leave, and found the little itch that had been irritating him for days as he thought about Vin was quickly turning into an even greater discomfort as he thought about Vin leaving.
The next words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them...
"You could stay out here for a bit...ain't much but it is quiet." He grinned then. "Least it is until you get to feeling chatty."
Jesus...he was asking the man to stay and, Lord help him...was he now shifting into a pleasant mood to go along with it?
Vin seemed to be mulling it over and he stood there for a long moment--long enough for Chris to wish he'd not opened his mouth and said a word. Why hadn't he just let him ride away?
Damned tracker had him so fucking confused...
That mistletoe.
That kiss.
Vin was smiling now. Not grinning, but a true smile that left his eyes wide open. "Might just do that, Chris. Thanks."
And then he shifted, not leaving, just leaning there against the doorjamb as he sent the longest, most fixed stare to Chris. His next words were spoken so softly, Chris wasn't sure he'd heard him right.
"Y' ain't got no mistletoe hangin' somewheres 'round here or nothin', do ya?"
Chris didn't know what to make of that remark. "Nope," he said warily. "I leave that shit to Buck. Man hung more of that stuff around town than there are women to stand under it."
"Hmm," Vin said, still not moving--not even looking like he was going to anytime soon. Just was standing there like he had when he first appeared out of nowhere, and the uneasy feeling Chris had thought gone started to creep its return.
And then Vin nodded. "Reckon he does get around."
The dawning of horror as Vin then looked up and Chris let his eyes follow--and there, in his doorway, a tiny sprig of mistletoe. Just where the fuck had that come from?
His eyes quickly moved to Vin's, and that same look was plastered on his face he'd caught in the mirror of the saloon those two days ago after the incident with Buck...
Only this time, the ghost of a secret he'd thought hidden in those blue depths maybe now wasn't such a secret after all, and he vaguely remembered Vin fooling with something in his pocket as he'd stood on the porch. He took a wary step toward Vin. "Assuming quite a bit, aren't you?"
Vin didn't move. "Reckon."
Another step. "That kind of reckoning can get a man killed..."
"Prob'ly."
How had he missed Vin planting that stuff? Distracted again... "Or get a man--"
"Kissed," Vin finished, stepping forward himself and grasping, pulling Chris into a swift, hard embrace as they both stood under the mistletoe.
How was this happening?
Firm arms held him close, an even firmer tongue probed his mouth and he relaxed enough to let that tongue enter, head reeling with the surprise of it all.
They parted then, slowly, barely, mouths less than inches away...
And there were hands on his ass.
"Suckin' the meat from a walnut," Chris said, shaking his head. "Buck ain't got nothing on you."
He pulled Vin to him, felt the hands on his rear start a slow climb up his back, getting under his shirt. Vin's fingers drew small circle patterns across his skin, and he bent to plunge his tongue back into that waiting mouth, then let out a soft laugh feeling...
Hell, he wasn't sure what all he was feeling...
Balanced, maybe...and with Vin now licking his chin...
Lust, definitely.
But there was more to it than that...he hoped there was much more to it than that...
Though it sure as shit wasn't a bad place to start.
Vin whispered into his ear, words rough with the gravel that was his voice. "So, what was it you was gonna say you liked about me?"
"Hell if I know," he replied, nuzzling into Vin's neck, "though I maybe could come up with a thing or two..."
"Just two?"
"Don't get pushy." The hands at his back suddenly plunged down into the back of his pants. "On second thought," he amended, "go ahead. Get real pushy."
"Had an idea you might like that," Vin said, pulling his hands out to start a slow creep up and around to the front of his chest. "Though I gotta say it's a wonder there was room enough in there for the both of us."
"You talk too damned much," he said, then grinned. "But I can think of a way I can fix that." He cocked his head, watching with growing interest as Vin was slowly starting to undo the buttons of his shirt, a peek of the man's tongue slipping along after.
"Now who's gettin' pushy," Vin mumbled.
He twined fingers into the underneath of Vin's hair, gently pulling until the tracker was forced to raise his head up to meet his eyes. Vin was smiling.
"Vin...you ever do this...with a man?"
"With a man who's a friend, y' mean? Not 'xactly this...you?"
He nodded, a memory from years ago flashing forward. "Been a long while--before Sarah. But I think I can remember what goes where and how, just have to make sure we use lots of..." His words faded. Vin was already pulling on the arm of his shirt, successfully peeling off his clothes...and clearly past the point of paying any attention to what Chris was saying. "Hell. You're not even listening to me."
"Hmm," Vin mumbled, dropping to his knees and working to wrangle him free of boots and pants and suddenly Chris found himself in almost full glory save his underwear.
Not that it seemed to matter to Vin who was sitting back on his haunches, nose to Chris's crotch, and grinning...
"Thinkin' spring might be comin' in early after all."
That took him a minute...just. "You talking about holes?"
Vin pointed. "An' poles."
"Spring thaw in the middle of winter," he mused, head tossing back as Vin's hand, then mouth, found a way to keep themselves relatively silent.
"Y' know, Vin," he said on a moan, that and the soft sounds of Vin's working mouth the only noise around, "much as I liked all your chatter this afternoon...think I'm in love with the quiet in you, too."
End