June 26, 2004
Author’s Note – Thanks, Rick, for the literary references.
“Vin! Vin, wake up!” Buck pounded on the door. “Try his cell again, JD,” he said and pounded on the door again.“I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” they heard from the other side of the door.
Vin opened the door, bleary eyed, disheveled and half asleep.
“What the hell you want, Bucklin?” he demanded. “It’s four o’clock in the fuckin’ mornin’.”
“Yeah, well, we ain’t happy ‘bout it, neither,” Buck replied, pushing past Vin and into the apartment.
“Markowski’s moving his merchandise,” JD reported, following Buck in. “Chris wants us in ASAP. Told us to pick you up on our way in; didn’t want to worry about whether your Jeep was gonna start.”
“He couldn’t’ve at least called first?” Vin balked. “You gotta drag me from my bed without warning?”
“We’ve been tryin’ to call you, Vin,” Buck explained. He pushed Vin toward his bedroom and looked at his watch. “You haven’t answered. Now you got about two minutes to get some clothes on. Chris ain’t gonna take any excuses this mornin’.”
Buck was about to follow Vin into the bedroom, continuing to talk about what repercussions could occur with the wrath of Larabee, when Vin stopped short, turned around and planted his palm on Buck’s chest.
“I think I can get dressed by myself, Buck,” he said. “Why don’t you just wait out here, huh?”
Buck just nodded his head absently, not even realizing that he’d been following Vin so closely. He turned around and returned to the living room.
A minute later, Vin’s bedroom door opened up and Vin exited, wearing jeans and a tee shirt. He carried a pair of socks and strode toward the couch, picking up his cowboy boots and leather jacket from the closet along the way. Thirty seconds later he had them all on and headed for the door.
“Well, you comin’ or what?” he asked, holding the door open for the other two.
+ + + + + + +
The bust went down quickly and efficiently - Louie Markowski’s crew was pinned down easily in the old warehouse by the ATF teams. In fact, not a single weapon was fired during the operation, a fact that Chris Larabee attributed to an excellent execution of the bust by teams Seven, Three and Twelve. And Louie Markowski’s common sense order to his men to stand down helped, too. The man at least knew when he was defeated.
So why couldn’t Chris, sitting in the waiting room of Denver’s Memorial Hospital, figure out why two of his men were in the Emergency Department receiving treatment?
“A stupid car accident,” he muttered. “Rush hour traffic on the way back to the city. Some asshole cuts them off...”
“They’re going to be fine, Chris,” Nathan assured him. Or tried to. “Buck’s arm might be broken, that’s the worst of his injuries.”
“And Vin?” Chris asked.
“There was a lot of blood,” Nathan agreed, knowing that Chris was picturing the scene of the accident in his mind. “But some head wounds, even small ones like Vin had, just bleed a lot.”
“He didn’t know what day it was, Nathan,” Chris ground out, standing up to pace the floor again.
“But he knew other things, like where he was and what we’d just done,” Nathan countered. He was about to go on when Chris stopped short and interrupted.
“Please, Nathan,” he said. “I don’t need any reassurances right now. I need facts.”
As if in answer to his demand, one of the Emergency Room doctors came through the doors.
“Agent Larabee?” he called.
“That’s me,” Chris replied, closing the distance, shaking the doctor’s hand. “How are my men?”
“They’re both going to be just fine.” Chris ignored Nathan’s smug look. “Agent Wilmington sustained a fracture to his left ulna, along with some minor cuts and bruises along the seat belt line. He’ll be sore for a few days, but nothing too bad. As soon as he’s done in orthopedics, getting his arm set, he’ll be able to go home.”
“And Agent Tanner?” Nathan asked.
“Agent Tanner sustained a minor concussion from the side impact against the window,” the doctor stated. “Along with some minor cuts and bruises, similar to those Agent Wilmington sustained. I’d like to keep him here overnight, at least, for observation, though.”
“He had some memory problems,” Chris prompted.
“That’s to be expected,” the doctor responded. “His losing consciousness, even for the brief time it was, is what disoriented him, I think, not the actual injury.”
“Can we see them?” Nathan asked.
“Like I said, Agent Wilmington is up in orthopedics right now. But you can see Agent Tanner for a little bit, until we find him a room and admit him.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Chris said, heading toward the treatment rooms, Nathan on his heels.
+ + + + + + +
“Not my fault, Chris,” were the first words, though slightly slurred, out of Vin’s mouth when Chris and Nathan arrived at his bedside.
“I know that, Vin,” Chris replied. “Denver PD already ticketed the other driver for speed and unsafe lane change.”
“How you doin’?” Nathan asked.
“Other than a splitting headache?” Vin asked, raising his eyebrows and wincing at the effort.
“You look like crap,” Chris said, good-naturedly.
“Yeah, that about sums up how I feel, too, Cowboy.” He looked down at himself. “And damn, those were my good jeans.”
Nathan laughed as he carefully picked up the blood covered, ripped open blue jeans that were at the end of the bed. “I think these bigger holes were already in them,” he remarked.
“Like I said,” Vin retorted, stifling a yawn.
“I’ll put a new pair in the next budget for you,” Chris added.
Chris and Nathan then had to move away to make room for the nurses that were going to clean Vin up and bring him to a room.
“I’ll check in on you later, Vin,” Chris said, patting Vin’s leg as he left.
Vin gave a quick wave before succumbing to the nurses’ ministrations.
+ + + + + + +
“You headin’ over to pick up Vin?” Buck asked, following Chris out of his office.
“Yeah, thought I’d stop at his apartment first, get him some clothes to wear,” Chris replied. “I think they burned what he wore in, he’d bled so much on them.”
“What, hospital scrubs aren’t good enough for him?” Buck laughed. “I got me a nice pretty blue set.”
“You stole them, Buck, so you could pretend you’re a doctor and impress the naive,” Chris chided him.
“It’s worked...”
“You wanna come with me?”
“Anything to get away from JD - kid’s been mother-hennin’ me since I got out yesterday.”
“Let’s go, then.”
+ + + + + + +
The two men arrived at Vin’s apartment building about half an hour later. Chris knocked on the building super’s door, showed him his ID and convinced the man to unlock Vin’s apartment for them. The man had remembered seeing Chris and Buck before; he knew they were friends of Vin’s and could be trusted. He left them to lock up after themselves.
“Think we should do some light cleanin’ while we’re here?” Buck asked, picking up a couple of dirty dishes from the sink.
“You, sir, and I use that term loosely, are supposed to be taking it easy,” Chris replied. “Have a seat. It won’t take me long to get some clothes out of Vin’s closet.”
“Okay, boss,” Buck agreed, holding his good arm and hand up in surrender.
Buck headed for the couch and took a seat while Chris headed for Vin’s bedroom.
He hadn’t been sitting for a minute when Chris called his name. Loudly.
“Buck!”
“What?!” he shouted back.
“Buck! Get in here!”
Buck grumbled to himself, wondering, confused, what could have gotten Chris’s dander up.
“Buck!”
“I’m comin’! I’m comin’! Just hold your horses, Chris,” he called, rising from the couch and heading for the bedroom.
He entered the room and found Chris sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the open dresser drawer.
“What’s up, Chris?”
Chris pointed to the drawer.
Confused, Buck took a step closer, not sure what he was going to find, wondering suddenly if he’d discover Vin was one of those closet neat freaks and his underwear were all ironed, folded and sorted by color, type and size or something.
Well, he’s a closet something, he thought, seeing the issues of gay porn magazines piled up in the drawer. He took a seat next to Chris on the bed and sighed.
“Damn,” Buck whispered. “He never…?”
“No,” Chris replied. “You’d think…”
“Can’t imagine it’s an easy thing to do.”
“But…”
They fell silent again.
“What’re you gonna do?” Buck asked.
“What do you mean, what’m I gonna do?”
“You gonna tell him we found him out? Shit, did I just say out?” Buck ran his good hand through his hair.
“Can’t do anything, Buck,” Chris said, rising abruptly from the bed. “It’s Vin’s business. We aren’t even supposed to be here.”
“You think he’s got a boyfriend? You know, someone steady?”
Chris just looked blankly at Buck. “None of our business,” he replied, moving an extremely explicit looking magazine over to reach for a pair of underwear and a pair of socks. He looked at the look on Buck’s face. “What?”
“Yesterday, when we came to get him,” Buck began. “He didn’t answer his phone. And then, he made sure I didn’t follow him in here. Like he was hidin’ something, or someone. I think he might’ve had someone in here with him, keeping him occupied, you know, away from the phone,” he deduced.
Chris closed his eyes and let out a breath. He turned and faced Buck. “Again, Buck. Not our business. Let’s just forget we even found those magazines, okay? Please?”
“But, Chris…”
“It’s gonna be hard enough facing Vin now, after seeing… those. I don’t want to know any more.”
Buck saw how upset Chris had become. He knew Chris wasn’t homophobic; neither was he. But he saw the betrayal Chris was feeling. Vin and Chris were best friends. Had been so for the past two years. And that Vin couldn’t trust Chris, of all people, with this secret, had to feel downright painful. Buck was feeling it, too.
“Fine,” Buck relented. He watched as Chris opened the closet door and searched for a shirt. “You realize, of course, that as soon as you give him his clothes, he’s gonna know.” Chris stopped and looked at Buck. “He’s gonna know you saw his magazines. You had to have seen them in order to get his clothes.”
Chris’s chin dropped to his chest. “Shit,” he murmured. He took a deep breath and let it out, sighing. Then he put the shirt back into the closet. “We’ll buy him some new stuff,” he said as he put the socks and underwear back into the dresser drawer.
Buck nodded as he rose from the bed.
The two men left the bedroom and then the apartment, locking the door behind them.
+ + + + + + +
“Well, Vin, you ready to blow this taco stand?” Buck asked as he entered the hospital room.
“Yeah, soon as the give me my meds and I sign the paperwork,” he replied.
“Brought you some clothes,” Chris said, holding out a shopping bag. “I think you’ll feel better wearing these, too,” he added with a forced smile.
Vin didn’t miss the expressions on either man’s face.
“You guys are takin’ me home, right?” he asked, suspicious. “I don’t gotta be babysat by you two or one of the other boys?”
“Yeah, we’re taking you home, Vin,” Buck replied. “Not to worry. Nope. Just you and your apartment. All alone,” he went on.
Vin also didn’t miss the fact that while Buck babbled, Chris had yet to make any significant eye contact with him.
He cautiously took the bag of clothes from Chris and headed for the bathroom. He looked in and saw the tags still on them.
“Didn’t have to go an’ buy me new stuff, Chris,” he said. “I was only kiddin’ about the jeans yesterday.”
“It’s okay, Vin,” Chris replied, still not meeting Vin’s gaze. “Consider it a get well present.”
Within half an hour, Vin had gotten dressed, received his discharge instructions, a prescription for pain medicine, signed his release papers, and was now in the back seat of a company car.
“I don’t need to write up any statements or nothin’ back at the office?” he asked.
“Not yet,” Chris replied from the driver’s seat. “Give it a few days; get some rest. Workers’ Comp. rules say you can’t set foot in the office until Wednesday, anyway.”
Vin nodded his head. He knew he’d taken a hard knock to it only twenty-four hours earlier, but he wondered if somehow he’d gotten more than ten stitches and a bad headache from it. Something was up with Buck and Chris; he knew it.
Only one way to find out, Tanner, he thought to himself, then braced himself to ask.
“What’s goin’ on, boys?” he asked.
“Huh?” “What?” and “Nothing,” came out of their mouths, convincing Vin even more that something was definitely up.
“I ain’t seen you two so jumpy since JD hacked into Travis’s computer to find out who was on the promotion list so you could win a bet with Ezra,” Vin retorted. “Now somethin’ is definitely up, and for whatever reasons you got in your head, you’re tryin’ to hide it from me. Ain’t workin’. Talk.”
“It’s nothing, Vin,” Chris replied again, this time meeting Vin’s gaze in the rear view mirror. When he looked forward again, he added, “Just some loose ends from the bust. Someone lost the Miranda warning paperwork Markowski’s men signed. DA won’t let us go ahead without them.”
“Yeah, that’s it, Vin,” Buck agreed quickly. “Nothin’ for you to be worryin’ on.”
Vin didn’t like the answer he got. He knew the men were lying to him. He took a deep breath and let it out. He’d have to bide his time, wait for another, more opportune moment to ask again. Or use other methods.
“Fine,” he muttered.
Chris risked a quick glance back at Vin in the rearview mirror again. He knew Vin didn’t believe the lie he’d told. He knew it wasn’t a very good one, but it was the first thing he’d thought of.
Before long they were at Vin’s apartment building. Vin was out of the back seat before the car was even turned off. He pushed Buck’s door closed, not allowing him to exit the car. He leaned into the car.
“Y’all don’t need to come up,” he said. “I’ll be just fine.”
“You sure, Vin?” Buck asked.
“Yeah,” Vin replied. “Thanks for the ride.”
He pushed off the car and headed for the building’s front door, not allowing Chris or Buck to say anything else.
Buck looked at Chris. “He didn’t buy that line of shit you gave him for a second,” he said.
“I know, Buck,” Chris replied. “But what was I supposed to say? ‘Sorry, Vin, we’re just a little put off because we found out you’re gay and never told us?’” He shook his head in disgust.
Buck nodded his head in agreement, ending up shaking it back and forth in confusion, as well.
+ + + + + + +
Vin closed the door to his apartment and headed for the kitchen. After getting a glass of water, he opened up his prescription bottle and downed a couple of painkillers, gulping at the water.
He thought he’d had a bad headache before leaving the hospital, his concussion still thumping inside his head and the stitches itching and stinging on the outside, but after being fed the nonsense Chris and Buck were spouting in the car, he thought his head would explode.
Add to it the lack of any real sleep at the hospital and Vin was ready to crash. He grabbed a cold pack from the freezer, wrapped it in a kitchen towel and headed for his bedroom.
He shucked his new clothing, a nondescript pair of sweats that hadn’t even come close to going with his cowboy boots, threw them toward his clothes hamper, and collapsed onto the bed, placing the cold pack across his eyes.
His mind swirled with ideas – wondering what could have possibly gone wrong with the bust, what could have happened with the case that would set Chris and Buck on edge. He went over each part of the plan, his own part in it, especially, bit by bit, looking for mistakes, some flaws that could have messed things up. He couldn’t find any, not any mistakes of his own or any others.
Maybe something did happen back at the office, like Chris said. Maybe some loophole in the Justice System had Markowski or his men out and free in the world again. Could his headache be affecting his judgment that much that he couldn’t read his best friends’ words and emotions?
More and more Vin went over Chris and Buck’s words and actions since picking him up at the hospital, hoping to find some misunderstanding on his part, some reason for how he perceived them. But every time, he came to the conclusion that they were lying to him. And he felt nothing but betrayed.
Finally, the pain medication and exhaustion took over and his body’s needs took precedence over his mind’s. Vin fell asleep.
+ + + + + + +
When Vin woke up, it was dark. He looked over to his bedside clock and after blinking and squinting a few times, read the time. Six p.m. He’d slept for almost six hours. Rolling over with a groan, he managed to get out of bed and head for the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, showered, shaved and dressed, he emerged from his bedroom and headed for the kitchen. He tossed the now-warm cold pack back into the freezer and grabbed the bottle of pain meds. After downing one of them with some orange juice, Vin headed for the apartment door.
He figured he’d had two days’ worth of junk mail waiting for him in his mailbox, but he was also expecting a few things, mainly a new Gall’s catalog. Christmas was coming and he knew some of the police-themed novelty tee shirts, picture frames and equipment were just what he’d need to fill out his list.
As he had hoped, the catalog was there. As he walked back toward the elevator, leafing through the catalog, he found the small Sure Fire flashlight he’d wanted to get for Chris, to keep in his truck, and stopped walking. The betrayal he’d felt earlier in the day, when Chris lied to him, was back.
He leaned heavily against the wall, fighting the urge to slide down it to sit on the floor.
“It’s probably nothin’,” he told himself. “You’re overreactin’, Tanner. It’s nothin’,” he repeated.
Vin took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he calmed himself, and berated himself for thinking the worst again.
“It’s this damn concussion,” he said aloud, giving him a legitimate reason for his uneasiness. “We’re fine.”
Vin had just pushed the elevator’s call button when he heard his name called.
“Vin!”
Vin turned around and saw Gary Kline, the apartment building’s super, headed his way, holding a casserole dish.
“Hey, Gary, how are ya?” Vin asked with a smile.
“I should be asking you that question,” Gary replied, nodding his head, motioning to the bandage on Vin’s head.
Vin put a finger to the bandage and shrugged. “I’ll be fine. Got a hard head,” he said with a laugh. “Was in a car accident at work yesterday. Nothin’ major,” he added.
“Yeah, I know. That’s why Marissa asked me to bring this to you,” Gary said, handing Vin the casserole dish. “Just some lasagna. Kind of a get well present.”
He didn’t miss the look of confusion on Vin’s face.
“Your friends, Chris and Buck?” Gary started to explain, “They stopped by this morning to get you some clean clothes. They told me what had happened and asked me to let them into your apartment.” When Vin still didn’t reply, he continued, “I hope that was okay, Vin. I mean, I’ve seen them here often enough, and considering they’re cops, like you…”
Gary started to worry, and feel guilty, when Vin didn’t respond right away.
“Vin?”
“I’m sorry, Gary,” Vin quickly replied. “I mean, sure, it was fine. You lettin’ ‘em in and all. Not a problem.”
“You sure you’re okay?” Gary asked, now even more confused by Vin’s reaction.
“Yeah, Gary, sure,” he replied, forcing a smile. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired, and still got a whopper of a headache, you know?” When Gary nodded, he added, “Thank Marissa for the lasagna. I’m sure it tastes great.”
The elevator chose that moment to open and Vin got in, holding up the lasagna in a quick gesture of thanks. As soon as the doors closed, Vin sagged against the wall.
Vin’s mind started churning again. Chris and Buck had been to his apartment building earlier. The elevator doors opened and Vin headed to his apartment. Chris and Buck had been in his apartment earlier. Vin put the lasagna into the refrigerator. Chris and Buck had been here to get him some clean clothes. Vin walked to his bedroom. Chris and Buck brought him brand new, store bought clothes. Vin opened his dresser drawer. Chris and Buck saw his magazines. Vin sank to the floor.
+ + + + + + +
“Hey, Buck? You okay?” JD asked.
“Huh?”
“You okay?” JD asked again, coming to sit next to Buck on the couch.
“Yeah, sure, JD. Why?” he asked, sitting up, plastering a smile on his face.
JD didn’t miss the facade Buck put up. Something was wrong and Buck was trying to hide it.
“You’ve hardly said a word tonight, that’s all,” JD replied. “Your arm okay? You need some more pain meds?”
“I’m fine, JD,” Buck said, waving JD off with his good hand. “Just tired. And, yeah, the arm is a little sore. But I’m fine.”
“If you say so.” JD let it go. “Hey, there’s an Avalanche game on tonight, you wanna watch?”
“Thought you’d never ask, JD,” Buck replied with a real smile, genuinely glad for the change of subject. “You get the beer and snacks and I’ll find the game,” he added, grabbing the remote.
As the two men sat watching the game, Buck still had thoughts of Vin in his mind. He still couldn’t grasp the fact that Vin had those magazines in his dresser. That Vin was gay. But maybe worst of all for Buck was the fact that Vin had never told any of them.
Even as he’d told Chris that morning, that it must not be an easy task to do, especially in the type of work they do, where male dominance and the good ol’ boy networks were the norm, he still thought they, as a team, were close enough that there wouldn’t need to be secrets amongst them.
An elbow to his ribs interrupted his thoughts as JD shouted out and jumped for joy as the Avalanche scored a goal.
“Did you see that, Buck?!” JD asked. “I can’t believe he was able to get that shot off! He was practically triple teamed!”
+ + + + + + +
Outside of Denver, sitting in the living room of his ranch house, Chris’s thoughts were just as muddied.
He took another swig of beer, emptying the bottle, and put it down onto the end table. Next to two others. The room was dark, he hadn’t bothered to put any lights on when he came home, as it had still been light out, but even as night fell, Chris hadn’t turned any on. He figured the room might as well match his mood: dark.
He was still in shock. For two years he’d been the best of friends with Vin. Ever since he’d gotten Vin to transfer from the Marshals’ to the ATF, after that whole fiasco with EJ Banks and Jack Nealson. He’d never “clicked” with any one so quickly, had so many things in common… Not even Sarah or Buck had come close to the type of friendship he had with Vin. So to find out, by accident, that Vin was gay…
Chris shook his head. Then he banged it against the back of the couch.
Yes, he could understand that Vin might not want to be “out,” especially at work. But didn’t Vin trust him enough, after these two years, to let him know?
And to top it off, he and Buck had acted so badly, as if Vin had had the plague or something. And worse, Vin knew it. How the hell was he going to make things right? Did he even want to?
“Shit,” he muttered.
He grabbed the keys to his truck.
+ + + + + + +
Vin eventually got up off the floor. He stood and stared at the open dresser drawer, at the current issue of “[2]” magazine, his favorite, lying on top.
“My favorite, right,” he muttered, letting out a huff of air. “Not no more,” he added, and in a sudden burst of rage, he picked up the magazine threw it across the room. “Fuck!” he shouted, and picked up the other magazines and threw them as well, littering his bedroom with paper, glossy prints of naked men in indecent poses landing everywhere.
“Fuck!” he repeated. He ran his hands through his hair, uncaring as they caught on his bandage and stitches, feeling deserving of the pain.
He paced around the room, feet pounding on the floor, jolts of the abrupt and harsh movements being sent through his body, coordinating with the pounding of his headache.
Another round of curses, whispered this time, came out of his mouth as he tried to figure out what to do.
Headache winning its war, Vin finally forced himself to stop pacing and sit down. He propped his elbows up onto his knees and cradled his sore head in his hands.
“My career is over. My best friends are gone,” he lamented quietly. “Fuck! All because you couldn’t find a better place to keep your damn porn,” he berated himself.
Not that a single man, living alone, should need to worry about where he puts his porn, his conscience retorted. Hell, Buck and JD leave their Penthouse and Playboy magazines right on their coffee table, next to the Sports Illustrated and the TV Guide!
“But that ain’t gay porn,” he returned. “Shit, I’m talkin’ to myself,” he added with a groan.
‘Sure sign you’re crazy,’ Chris would say, the little voice spoke up again.
And the thought of Chris, and Chris and Buck’s attitude earlier, brought the anger back, only this time it wasn’t self-directed, but at his friends. They were treating him differently, keeping their distance, as if he’d been contagious, or were sprouting three heads. They were clearly uncomfortable with him, Vin realized. Uncomfortable with having a homosexual for a teammate.
“Well, fuck them!” Vin shouted.
He got up off the bed and headed for his living room. He grabbed his car keys from the hook by the door and opened it. And promptly ran into Chris. Literally.
+ + + + + + +
“What the fuck?!” Vin shouted, regaining his balance.
“Nice to see you, too,” Chris returned.
The two men stared at each other for a minute or so before Chris finally asked, “Mind if I come in?”
Vin thought about it for a half-second before replying, “Ain’t gonna ask the super to key you in this time?”
“Maybe I should, at least he trusts me,” Chris blurted out.
The two men stared at one another again before Vin finally backed his way back into his apartment, leaving the door open for Chris to follow. Once Chris did, he closed the door. Leaning on it, with his arms across his chest, Vin watched as Chris took a few steps around the apartment, his ill at ease at being there, obvious.
Chris had been practicing what he’d say to Vin all the way over in the truck, but now found himself speechless. He went over to the bookshelf and picked up the photo of he and Vin together, fishing at the stream near Vin’s camper, The Vinnebago.
“Vin,” he began, still staring at the photo. “I… I just don’t-”
“Still can’t even look at me, Larabee?!” Vin interrupted, still angry. “Can’t face the fact that I’m a queer? Shit. Thought I knew you better than that. Never figured you for-”
Chris whirled around and looked at Vin, then, and interrupted his words. “You thought you knew me?!” he balked, putting a finger to his chest. “I think it’s the other way around, don’tcha think, Vin?”
“I’m not the one that goes pokin’ around in another guy’s things and then freaks out when he don’t like what he finds,” Vin retorted, taking steps to close the distance between them. He poked his own finger at Chris’s chest and added, “The way you and Buck were actin’ this mornin’, you’d think I was one of the bad guys!”
“We weren’t poking around! We were trying to do something nice for a friend!” Chris answered. “Not my fault you keep your dirty pictures with your clean clothes!”
“Dirty pictures? That what you think of ‘em?” Vin asked. “That what you think of me, now?”
The question threw Chris for a loop. He stood there open-mouthed for a second or two before shaking his head, clearing it.
“Of course not, Vin!” he finally replied. “I just don’t understand-”
“You don’t understand what, Larabee?” Vin cut in. “Don’t understand how two guys could want to do it?”
“I don’t-”
“Don’t understand how two guys could love each other?”
“If you’d stop interrupting me and shut up, I’d tell you what I don’t understand, Tanner!” Chris shot back with a glare. When Vin didn’t show any sign of interrupting him again, he continued, saying, “What I don’t understand is how you could keep something like this from me?”
“‘Something like this’ ain’t the best thing to be in law enforcement, Cowboy,” Vin said evenly. “Thought even you woulda figured that out.”
“I’m not talking about that, Vin,” Chris replied. “I’m not saying you need to shout it out to the world. I’m just saying…” He quieted his voice. “I’m just saying I thought you would have told me. That you could have trusted me.”
For the first time Vin saw the hurt in Chris’s eyes; realized the reason behind his actions. His own hurt lessened.
“Couldn’t,” he replied. Then you’d know how I really thought of you. “Too ingrained,” he added, hoping it would cover his real reason. “Shouldn’t make a difference anyway,” continued, getting defensive again.
“You’re right, Vin,” Chris replied. “It shouldn’t make a difference.”
Chris sighed and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.
“It wouldn’t have made a difference at work, with the team,” he continued.
“With the team,” Vin picked up. “So it would have made a difference with you, then?” he challenged.
“Yeah, Vin, it would,” Chris replied.
“Fine,” Vin replied curtly. He walked to the door and opened it. “Guess we’re just coworkers then,” he said.
Chris walked to the door, but instead of exiting, he closed the door.
“That’s not what I meant,” he said, meeting Vin’s glare with one of his own.
“So say what you mean, then, Larabee.”
“It would have made a difference to me because it would have shown me how much you really trust me, beyond watching each other’s backs,” he said. “And, maybe, I could have done this a whole lot sooner,” he added, leaning in to give Vin a gentle kiss on the lips.
He was relieved when he felt Vin kiss him back, but the kiss was still too short.
“Fuck,” Vin whispered, shaking his head, staring at Chris. “And you thought I didn’t trust you with a secret?”
“Guess we’re both guilty then, huh?”
“Pot calling the kettle black.”
“Takes one to know one.”
They stared at each other for a few more moments before they both let out a sigh-filled, “Fuck.”
+ + + + + + +
“So what do we do now?” Vin asked.
“About?”
“Shit, Larabee!” Vin exclaimed, collapsing onto the couch. “I just been through the wringer! Goin’ from gettin’ woke up in the middle of the mornin’ to go to a bust, to gettin’ banged up in a car accident and spendin’ a shitty night in the hospital, and I’m still havin’ the headache of my life; to feelin’ betrayed by my friends ‘cause they’re actin’ squirrelly and lyin’ to me about somethin’, to figuring out what caused ‘em to act all squirrelly; an’ then I’m feelin’ like the world as I know it is gonna end, feelin’ angry at the world, and now...”
“Now?”
“Now I just got kissed by my best friend.”
“Sounds like a happy ending to me,” Chris remarked, finally coming to the couch and sitting next to Vin.
“It’s all just a bit much to get through all at once, if you know what I mean,” Vin replied dryly.
“My day’s been quite the whirlwind, too,” Chris said, putting his hand on Vin’s knee. “From scheduling and overseeing that bust, to worrying about you and Buck after the accident, to finding your little library stash... Hell, Tanner, it knocked my socks off – I didn’t know what to think, I had to call Buck in to see if he was seeing the same thing I was.”
“So Buck does know, too?” Vin confirmed.
“About you...”
“Well, at least I wasn’t the only one left outta that one,” Vin chuckled.
“Shit, Vin,” Chris muttered, shaking his head. “All I could think of at the time was that you didn’t tell me. It didn’t even occur to me until later that I should be happy – that maybe I’d have a chance with you. You don’t know what it’s been like this past year or so, wanting you, but thinking I couldn’t have you.”
“Uh, Cowboy,” Vin interrupted, holding up a finger. “I think I can figure that one out.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“So,” Vin began, turning to face Chris. “Back to my original question: what do we do now?”
“Wanna look at some dirty pictures together?” Chris asked, grinning. “Haven’t gotten my latest issue of “men” yet.”
“Sounds like a plan, Cowboy,” Vin replied, standing up.
He offered his hand to Chris and the two headed for the bedroom, bumping into furniture and walls as they exchanged kisses and touches along the way.
+ + + + + + +
Buck had tried concentrating on the Avalanche game, but despite the excellent game, all he could think about was Vin. Just as the second period started, he got off the couch, told JD that he had an errand to run, and not to worry.
He owed it to his friend to talk to him, to apologize for his behavior, and explain its cause. He vowed to be honest and understanding with Vin, to offer whatever support he’d need, and to keep his secret, too.
The cast on his arm was a little awkward driving, but he managed to drive his Trans Am to Vin’s place without incident. He was happy to see Chris’s truck parked out front. Chris must have had the same idea, he thought.
A few minutes later, Buck found himself outside Vin’s apartment. He was just about to knock on the door when he heard a loud crashing sound. Afraid that things between Chris and Vin hadn’t gone well, that things had actually resulted in the two of them fighting, he rushed into the apartment, ready to break up the fight.
He found the two men rolling around on the floor of the hallway.
“Hey, you two! Break it up! Break it up!” he shouted, reaching toward the men.
At the sound of Buck’s voice, Vin and Chris immediately parted, sitting up, startled embarrassment evident on their faces.
“Buck? What the hell you doin’ here?!” Vin cried out.
“Stoppin’ you two from killin’ each other, it seems,” Buck replied. “Really, Chris,” he went on. “I knew you were upset, but not like this! I thought you’d be able to get over it; accept it eventually.”
Chris and Vin looked at each other, realizing that Buck had thought they were fighting, not... groping.
Buck didn’t see the looks that passed between the two and continued, “Hell, that’s why I came over here, Vin. I was here, too, when Chris found your magazines. When we realized that you were... gay. I’m sorry I acted all out of sorts before. I, we, just... Well we didn’t know how to tell you that we knew, ya know?”
By now, Vin and Chris were laughing out loud.
“What?” Buck asked, looking back and forth between the two men.
Looking closer at the two men. Seeing their shirts opened up. Their shoes off. The flush of their faces.
“What’s goin’ on here?” he asked, uncertainly.
Vin and Chris looked at each other.
“My secret’s already out,” Vin said, raising an eyebrow.
Buck looked even more confused.
“Uh, Buck?” Chris started. “I’ve got something to tell you...”
+ + + + + + +
“Did you see the look on his face?” Vin asked with a laugh.
“Glad we told him to sit down, first,” Chris admitted.
“This has been quite the day of discoveries, hasn’t it, Cowboy?” Vin asked, then continued, saying, “I’m just glad things turned out the way they did. I was thinkin’ the worst before you showed up.”
Chris nodded. “Can I say I’m sorry again?” he asked. “We should’ve been up front with you from the beginning, instead of acting like jerks, trying to lie about what we’d found. We knew it was hurting you.”
“And maybe I shoulda been up front with you and the guys, or at least you, right from the start.”
“You still planning on telling the rest of the guys?” Chris asked.
Vin let out a sigh and leaned back on the couch. “I know I can trust ‘em. But, if I’m gonna tell ‘em about me, then what about you? Are you ready for that yet?”
“Maybe we should hold off for a bit. I’m not sure I’m ready yet. Hell.” Chris let out a heavy sigh of his own.
They sat silently for a few moments. Then Chris felt Vin’s hand on his leg, slowly rubbing it up and down his thigh. He smiled.
“Wanna finish what we started before?” Vin asked.
“Thought you’d never ask,” Chris replied.
+ + + + + + +
This time, the two men made it to Vin’s bedroom uninterrupted. When Chris backed Vin up against the bed, his knees hit, bending, bringing both men down upon it. They broke their kiss at the movement, and Chris got a chance to look around and see the mess Vin had left behind.
Vin saw and remembered his earlier actions with his magazines. “Kinda got a little mad earlier,” he said with a shrug.
“I’ll buy you some new copies,” Chris replied. Then, picking up one of the pictures next to Vin’s head, he looked at it. Then turned it sideways and looked at it again. “Huh,” he remarked.
“That’s a good one,” Vin said. “Those guys are hot. But I like the one on the other side, better,” he added.
Chris turned the page over and let out a moan. Then he looked at Vin. “Ever thought of doing that?”
“Uh huh.”
“With me?”
“Uh huh.”
Chris let out another moan.
Vin rolled them over, so that he was on top, and began grinding his groin against Chris’s, their hard cocks meeting between layers of denim, making both men moan.
“God, Vin,” Chris whispered.
He reached up and held Vin’s head in both of his hands, bringing the younger man’s lips to his, thrusting his tongue inside. Vin winced, then slightly moved Chris’s left hand, moving it away from his stitches. When Chris was about to apologize, Vin just shook his head and resumed their kiss, moving his tongue to duel with Chris’s.
“Damn, Larabee,” Vin gasped. “Knew it had to be hot, doin’ it with you, but I never figured it would be this good.”
“This ain’t nothin’,” Chris replied.
This time Chris rolled them over. He sat up, straddling Vin’s legs, and began to undo Vin’s jeans, popping the button and ever so slowly unzipping the zip. He couldn’t help but follow it down with his other hand, caressing Vin’s cock, eliciting a hiss and a moan from Vin, who jutted his hips upward, wanting more of the touch. Chris took the opportunity to pull the jeans down around Vin’s hips, while they were up.
“Like whatcha see?” Vin asked.
“More than like,” Chris responded, and leaned down to mouth Vin’s cock through the fabric of his underwear.
“Be easier if you took ‘em off,” Vin hinted, groaning as Chris nipped him lightly.
“I’m getting there, Tanner,” Chris replied. “Took us two years to get here. I’m savoring the moment.”
A few minutes later, Vin was naked and Chris was slowly making his way, hands and fingers followed by mouth and tongue, up and across his body, making Vin writhe and shudder below him.
Almost hyperventilating, Vin managed to beg, “Please, Chris. Please...”
With one last swipe of his tongue across Vin’s cock, Chris smiled, then finished removing his own clothing. While Vin watched, he leaned over the bed, reached into his dresser drawer and removed a bottle of lube.
Chris stroked himself roughly, giving Vin a seductive leer. Then he put his hand out for the lube.
But Vin just shook his head and said, “You just watch.”
And Chris watched as Vin poured lube all over the fingers of his right hand. And Chris watched as Vin turned and faced the headboard of the bed, grabbing it with his left hand. And Chris watched as Vin rubbed those fingers up and down the crack of his ass. And Chris watched as Vin put a finger into his ass. And rubbed it around and pulled it out. And then he listened as Vin moaned.
“Been waiting for you for so long, Chris,” he said. “Been wanting you with me, doin’ this...”
And Chris watched as he put in two more slick fingers, listened as Vin cursed and jerked at the sensation, began fucking his fingers and gripped the headboard tighter.
And then Chris couldn’t watch or listen any longer.
With a growl, Chris moved up behind Vin. Vin pulled his fingers out and then grabbed Chris’s cock, coating it with the lube left on his hand as he pumped it.
“Damn, Vin!” Chris exclaimed. And then he removed Vin’s hand from his cock and shoved himself inside Vin, causing both to yell out, “Fuck!”
Vin grasped the headboard with both hands now, pushing back, impaling himself further onto Chris’s cock. Chris let out a hiss of pure delight as he felt himself go even further into Vin. He wrapped his arms around Vin, squeezing him tight.
“Damn, Vin,” he whispered this time, and began to kiss and lick Vin’s shoulders and the back of his neck.
He continued to kiss and lick, moving to the side of Vin’s throat, even as he began to gently thrust in and out of him. Vin released the headboard and leaned back, so that he was seated on Chris’s thighs. He reached his arms up over his head, grasping the back of Chris’s neck, bringing Chris in closer, so that when he turned his head, they could kiss.
Chris let out another loud moan as Vin took over their movements, raising and lowering himself on Chris’s cock, only an inch or so in either direction.
“So good,” Vin whispered. “So good.”
“Better than the picture?” Chris asked, smiling as he nipped and sucked on Vin’s jaw.
“Definitely,” he replied.
“Even when I do this?” Chris asked, moving his hands down Vin’s sides, along his hips, and onto his cock.
“Infinitely,” he gasped, shuddering.
Their movements sped up, then. Vin raising up higher and coming down harder on Chris’s cock, meeting Chris’s upward thrusts, needing to feel it deeper inside himself. Chris tightened his grip on Vin’s cock, squeezing it as he moved his hands over it, up and down it.
Sweat began to coat their bodies, and the sounds of their skin slapping, their quickened breaths coming out as moans, filled the room. The pitch and pace quickened until everything came to a sudden standstill – movement stopped, breathing stopped and all was silent. And then the explosion hit. Both men came, their movements once again frantic, Chris sinking his teeth into the skin at Vin’s neck and shoulder, cum spilling in and out and across their bodies and bed, their shouts echoing in the room, their breathing bordering on hyperventilation.
As they came down and relaxed, Vin leaned back against Chris’s chest and reached up to run his fingers through Chris’s hair. Chris kissed and soothed the red and purple bite mark he’d made, rubbing his cum-coated hands across the front of Vin’s body.
“Infinitely,” Chris whispered.
After a few minutes, the two just enjoying the closeness, the slow, languid caressing of each other, Vin spoke up.
“So which picture you wanna do next?”
END