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Colonel Culpepper’s Extraordinary Healing Elixir
by Cattraine
Disclaimer: They’re free, not mine.
Warnings: M/M, silliness and cussing, a tad of smarm.
Pairing: C/V First time. OW
Notes: The ingredients listed here were the actual components of a popular patent medicine sold in the 1800’s and early 1900’s (Dr. Wardle’s elixir.). Ah, the good old days when cocaine was actually in Coca Cola and Morphine Drops were sold for teething babies!
“What the hell?” Buck Wilmington’s puzzled voice snapped Chris Larabee’s attention up from the book he was reading.It was a quiet, peaceful Friday morning and the two peacekeeper’s had just finished breakfast at the Saloon and were sitting outside on the boardwalk having coffee. Larabee followed Buck’s gaze towards the end of town, where the three youngest members of the seven were just riding in. Or, rather, trying to ride in.
Peso, with the air of an exasperated, sorely tried animal, had made a beeline for the nearest water trough and dunked his muzzle in to drink deeply. His rider slumped lazily in the saddle, reins held loosely, blue eyes on the horizon, a suspiciously vacant smile on his face. Ezra had pulled up next to Vin and, as the puzzled Wilmington and Larabee watched, slithered out of his chestnut gelding’s saddle onto wobbly legs and weaved towards the nearest porch post, which he embraced happily. JD had reined his little bay to a halt in the middle of the dusty street and was just sitting there, giggling like a fool.
“Brothers?” Josiah’s deep voice questioned as he pushed his way through the saloon’s batwing doors, brow furrowed, and curious pale blue eyes on the unfolding spectacle across the street. Nathan followed close on the big preacher’s heels, peering hard across the street at the three miscreants. He gave a derisive snort as JD abruptly keeled over backwards to roll off his horse’s rump and land on his backside in the street. He was still giggling like a maniac, only louder.
“They’re drunk as skunks!” the black healer declared, hands on hips as he scowled across the street at the trio.
Broad toothy smiles split Josiah and Buck’s faces as they watched Standish straighten his lapels and attempt to strike up a conversation with Polly; Virgil Watson’s old white carthorse, who was hitched to a nearby rail.
“Just plain snookered!” Buck agreed happily.
Beside him, Chris Larabee scowled murderously across the street at Tanner. What was that damned fool trying to do? Get himself killed? All the three had had to do was drop some prisoners off at Eagle Bend for rail transfer to Yuma.
As the older men watched, Tanner slid easily out of the saddle, dropped Peso’s reins, left the big horse standing unattended in the street and moseyed very slowly up the street towards the church. He was walking like he was treading on eggshells, wore the same vacant smile and most worrying of all, appeared to take no notice of his surroundings.
Behind him, JD, laughing out loud now, had flopped over on his back and was fanning his arms and legs vigorously in the street, raising a cloud of dust, apparently either having a conniption fit or attempting to make ‘dust angels’. Ezra was admiring Polly’s posy bedecked straw hat, through which her ears protruded jauntily.
“Why, Miz Travis, Ah see you have a new hat.” He hiccoughed genially at her.
Polly whickered agreeably and nuzzled his vest pockets, looking for treats. Standish chortled, and blearily embraced her neck as the earth seemingly tilted beneath his feet. He slid slowly down to land between her front hooves with a thump. Puzzled at his antics, Polly placidly snuffled curiously at his face, inadvertently tickling him with the hairs on her muzzle and causing him to burst into a giggle fit.
“You are getting fresh with me, Madame," he slurred happily up at her.
He peered up woozily as he found himself fenced in by several sets of long legs. Goodness, he hadn’t realized Mr. Sanchez had so many teeth. Oh, dear, Mr. Jackson and Mr. Larabee were scowling again. He tried hard to focus on his friends’ faces and greet them properly. Wherever were his manners? Mother would be appalled.
“Ezra, you alright?” Josiah’s amused voice boomed down at him.
“My, what dainty ankles you have, mah dear,” Ezra informed Polly.
She snorted an amiable equine agreement and delicately lipped his hair. Amused, Sanchez and Larabee reached for his arms and levered the very relaxed gambler up to his feet, where Josiah was forced to snag his gun belt with a big hand to keep him upright. Behind them, Nathan and Buck had picked the chortling JD up and were in the process of dusting him off, clouds of grit flying as Buck thumped his back heartily.
“We ain’t drunk, Buck! It's just good medicine! The doc gave it to us for helping him get his wagon out of a ditch. My toothache is all better,” the young man insisted in answer to Wilmington’s question, as he beamed up at his friend and brandished a squat, half empty, patent medicine bottle, nearly beaning Buck in the nose. He turned the same goofy, megawatt smile on Nathan.
“Tastes better than that cat pee stuff you make, Nathan. Vin’s back doesn’t hurt now and Ezra’s hangover is all gone!”
Ezra hiccoughed an affirmative and produced a nearly identical, empty bottle from his jacket pocket and waved it as proof.
Jackson snatched the suspect bottle out of the gambler’s hand. His eyebrows nearly climbed into his hairline as he read the list of ingredients on the gaudy label, and he began to sputter in outrage. His voice rose an octave with each word he read.
“Colonel Culpepper’s Extraordinary Healing Elixir! Sweet Jumping Jesus! Opium, mineral oil, cloves, cannabis, turpentine, molasses, mescal, licorice, cocaine, alcohol…!” He was nearly screeching with outrage by the time he reached the end of the list. He glared down at the loopy young man, then rolled his eyes at the hazy grin he got in return. He glared across at Buck.
“It’s a goddamned wonder they’re not blind or dead!”
“Yeah,” JD agreed happily.
Buck Wilmington snorted and steadied the kid on his wobbly feet. JD embraced his tall friend happily, as Wilmington surreptitiously confiscated the kid’s bottle and tucked it into his own vest pocket.
“I love you Buck!”
Wilmington snorted and tried to pry the kid off his neck. Dunne clung like a limpet, gusting a boozy breath in Buck’s face as he tried to plant a moist smooch on his face. Wilmington patted the kid on the head, laughing. By God, he had enough blackmail material to last for months!
“They gonna be okay, Nathan?” Larabee asked brusquely, belatedly looking around for the missing tracker.
“Yeah, only thing to do is let them sleep it off,” the healer answered in disgust.
Larabee gave the two woozy regulators an evil, skunk-eyed look. “Stick ‘em in the cells,” he ordered Wilmington.
“No, I really do love you Buck! You’re my very best friend. Like a big brother almost.” JD was still clinging and smooching, impervious to the laughter around him, as amused bystanders gathered. Grinning broadly, Buck began to steer the young man gently towards the jail. He shared a grin with Josiah, as they both herded their stoned charges towards a quiet place to crash.
“You grab yours, and I’ll bring mine.” He shot a look over at the scowling Larabee.“Where’s yours, pard?”
Larabee frowned in annoyance, hands on his lean hips, sharp hazel eyes scanning along the street.
“He can’t be far. He was moving like a drunk snail.”
“Vin’s gonna fly,” JD volunteered happily. He grinned up at Buck.
“What!” bellowed an alarmed chorus of peacekeepers.
JD beamed, pleased to be the center of attention, and pointed up the street towards the church.
“See? He said he felt so good, he was gonna fly,” he chirped proudly.
Horrified, the other men stared up the street. Sure enough, a wobbly, familiar buckskin clad figure was just climbing onto the steeply gabled roof from a handy ladder leaning against the eaves.
“Shit!” Larabee barked, and sprinted for the churchyard, Buck and Josiah pounding at his heels.
Behind them Nathan snagged Ez and JD by the elbows and hurriedly force-marched them into the jail for safekeeping, ignoring their dizzy protests. An amused Mary Travis and Gloria Potter gathered to lend a hand. Nathan had a bad feeling about this. Would it be too damned much to ask, he fumed irritably, to have these idiots emerge from just one of their adventures unscathed? Behind him, Polly extended her neck, shook her mane, and whinnied longingly after Ezra.
77777777
Chris Larabee cursed viciously under his breath as he scaled the way-too-rickety-to-be-reassuring ladder to the ominously loose, slippery clay tiles of the steep roof of the dilapidated church. He was too macho a man to admit to himself that heights bothered him. He just had no interest in them at all; unlike a certain mule-headed Texan who spent way too much time perched like a goddamned buzzard high up on roofs and rocks.
Larabee crawled carefully up and straddled the peaked roof, back braced reassuringly against the base of the steeple. His heart was in his throat and he took a deep, calming breath and stubbornly refused to look down. Instead, he looked up and over and nearly had a heart attack. Vin Tanner was strolling casually down the narrow ridgepole of the roof towards the edge, eyes on the sky and stupid grin still firmly plastered on his face.
Larabee opened his mouth to yell, but only a thin croak emerged. That didn’t stop Buck, however, from letting out a loud bellow from the ground, causing BOTH Larabee and Tanner to jump and nearly lose their balance.
“Vin! What the hell ya think yer doin’ up there, pard?”
Vin paused in his aerial ramble and peered down. His grin widened in recognition.
“Hey, Bucklin.”
He greeted the tall ladies man amiably, and swayed alarmingly as he leaned over slightly to wave at his friend. Behind him, Larabee flinched visibly as the tracker nearly took a header off the roof. Carefully, one hand firmly on the steeple base, Larabee shakily rose to his feet, wishing like hell that the soles of his well-worn boots weren’t so damned slick.
“Buck! Goddammit! Don’t distract him!”
“Sorry, old Dawg.” Buck’s voice floated sheepishly up from the ground. Surprised, Vin pivoted shakily to face Larabee, a delighted grin on his face.
“Hey, Cowboy!”
“Hey, pard. What are you doing all the way up here?” Larabee asked evenly, proud that he sounded so calm, and intent on luring Vin within grabbing distance.
He risked a glance over the edge and noted with approval that Nate had just trotted up carrying a stoutly woven Mexican blanket to use as an impromptu net if necessary. Below, the three big men unfurled the blanket, took a firm grip on the corners and looked expectantly up.
“I’m gonna fly,” Vin informed Larabee solemnly.
Larabee hung his blond head and resisted the urge to groan aloud. Of course he was.
He took another, deep, calming breath and reminded himself firmly that Tanner was under the influence of an astounding combination of narcotics and intoxicants and that instead of passing out and peacefully sleeping it off, which would have been the normal, simple, sane thing to do, he had apparently decided to sprout wings instead.
“How are you gonna do that, pard? Ya haven’t got wings. Don’t ya need those to fly?”
He cunningly decided to try the logical approach on the miniscule chance that it might actually work with the ornery Texan. Sure enough, Tanner’s brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed as he gave the notion some thought. Way too casually for Larabee’s nerves, he shifted his weight and put his hands on his hips as he pondered. Chris edged out a bit towards him, one hand holding the steeple base tightly. Damn, he hadn’t realized just how high the church roof was.
Tanner’s attention was suddenly snagged by a passing bird, which chose that exact moment to swoop busily by as an example, gliding easily on the air currents. He brightened, and turned a beaming smile on Chris.
“Reckon I’ll just glide, like him.”
He waved his arm airily in the general direction the creature had flown, and swayed dangerously, boot heels scraping the tiles. Larabee bit back a curse and forced himself to keep calm, although his heart was pounding like a drum. Thinking fast, he extended one hand pleadingly towards Tanner. The other refused to release the death grip he had on the steeple.
“What about me, Cowboy? Ya gonna leave me here all alone, without saying goodbye?” he coaxed slyly, appealing to Vin’s tender, inebriated heart.
Vin’s eyes widened then became bright with emotion. He turned back towards Chris, who stoutly resisted the urge to grin slyly in triumph. Extending one hand, he started across the roof to Larabee, who shakily released his grip on the steeple long enough to edge forward to meet him halfway. The men on the ground below followed the sharpshooter’s progress intently, blanket held at ready. Tanner grabbed Larabee’s arm in their familiar clasp and looked directly in Chris’ eyes.
“I won’t ever run out on ya, Cowboy,” he informed Larabee, blue eyes wide and earnest as they searched the older man’s face. He gripped Larabee’s arm hard, to confirm the vow. Chris gripped back and refused to let go, teeth flashing in triumph. Ha! He had the little shit. Now, how the hell was he going to get them both down without breaking their necks?
Before he could coax Vin over to the ladder, the young man, like JD, suffered an exuberant shift of mood and threw his arms around the gunslinger’s neck and hugged him hard.
“Love ya, Cowboy!”
Larabee wheezed and struggled to keep his balance as the younger man nearly squeezed the life out of him, he patted Vin reassuringly on the back, one wary eye on his shaky footing. He could hear Buck snickering knowingly on the ground below. Carefully, he tried to back towards the steeple, towing Vin with him, but Tanner turned stubborn and balked like a mule. He turned wounded, cobalt eyes on Chris’ face.
“Don’t you love me, too?” he asked softly.
Chris Larabee found himself at a loss for words at the unexpected question. One part of him knew that Vin was under the influence and would die of humiliation if he recalled this conversation later when he sobered up. What took him by surprise was his own reaction to those words. Vin Tanner, one of the most private, close-mouthed men he knew, had just loudly declared to the world that he loved him.
That simple declaration filled a lonely, empty space in the cynical older man, warming him from the inside out. He felt a flush rise from his neck to his hairline as he stared into Tanner’s vulnerable blue eyes and realized the quiet young man, while under the influence, had spoken straight from the heart, and it just wasn’t in him to deny him. A fond smile quirked the gunslinger’s wide mouth and widened at the lopsided, goofy grin he got in return.
“Yeah, Cowboy, I love you too,” he answered softly.
The next moment, he staggered back as Tanner again lunged forward to happily embrace him, scrabbling desperately to keep his already precarious balance. Below them he could hear Nathan cursing a blue streak, no doubt already anticipating multiple broken limbs and cracked skulls. For one, brief, triumphant moment he managed to keep them both balanced, one hand braced against the steeple behind them, the other clutching Vin. That was before the old clay tiles beneath their boots chose that exact moment to shatter and crumble to dust and return to mother earth, taking them along for the ride.
There were alarmed warning yells from the boys below, Vin gave a startled yelp as he started to slide down the slope of the roof and Larabee cursed viciously as he felt his balance go as the worn soles of his boots lost all purchase on the slippery tiles. He fought hard to keep a grip on Tanner’s arm but only succeeded in slowing his implacable descent to the earth below, before being forced to grapple frantically for handholds of his own.
On the ground below, the three tall peacekeepers did a complex bit of a shuffle and dance back and forth before neatly snagging the tumbling, whooping tracker in the blanket. Totally relaxed and unhurt, Vin bounced giddily for a few moments, lopsided grin on the clear blue sky, before the blanket was carefully lowered and Josiah’s big hands gently set the loopy young man on his wobbly feet. Tanner grinned happily up into the big preacher’s amused face.
“Did ya see ‘Siah, I flew!”
“That you did little brother, that you did!” the big man chuckled, returning the younger man’s exuberant embrace and tousling the curly head.
Buck and Nathan grinned happily at each other, very pleased with themselves. Not a scratch on him! Before they could congratulate themselves on a job well done, Vin frowned and looked upwards at the heavens from which a startling rain of expletives was falling. The others followed his curious gaze. All that could be seen of Larabee was a pair of hands clutching desperately at the ridgepole.
Tanner tilted his head and put his hands on his hips. “Boys, I don’t think Chris can fly,” he confided with the air of one sharing a great confidence. There was a moment of silence, before Larabee’s curses increased in both volume and ferocity. Buck snatched up the discarded blanket.
“Quick boys, the other side!”
“Fly, Chris, fly!” Vin called encouragingly.
Before they could follow through with that order, there was a sharp crack of breaking tile, a desperate scrabbling, scratching sound very much like a large cat sliding down a tin roof, and an outraged yowl followed by a distinct THUD and an ominous silence from the other side of the church. Wilmington, Sanchez and Jackson winced and cringed, and stood frozen in place, hardly daring to look at each other.
“Oops!” Buck muttered.
Unperturbed, Tanner strolled off around the corner of the church. After a few seconds they heard him speaking genially to Larabee on the other side.
“Hey Chris, what ya doing just layin’ here?”
The stream of invective that followed caused the regulators to breath a sigh of relief, even as it turned the air in the churchyard blue. Reluctantly and guiltily they shuffled around the corner to retrieve their fallen leader. Hopefully, he would be so focused on Tanner that he would forget that he was still wearing his gun.
7777777
Vin Tanner padded silently down the alley and took a furtive peek around the corner. It was early Sunday morning and the streets were empty, most folk either in church or keeping the Sabbath at home. Vin, Ezra and JD had spent most of the weekend incarcerated in the jailhouse where Nate could keep a sharp eye on them as they recovered from their patent medicine binge. Tanner had made a promise to himself to never, ever, again drink anything before he learned to read the list of ingredients.
Not only had they been forced to listen to Nathan’s endless health lectures and drink his vile herbal hangover potions, they had been forced to endure Bucklin’s gleeful tales of their behavior while intoxicated. Josiah, the big rat, had just sat and grinned, showing all his teeth. Vin cringed mentally, face flushing. He had embraced Chris Larabee on top of the church house roof and publicly declared that he loved the man in front of God and everybody. It was a wonder Larabee hadn’t pushed him off or shot him dead.
He winced at that thought. Lord, could he have humiliated himself any further if he had tried? A loud whinny caught his attention and he risked another covert look into the street. Yep, Polly had caught sight of Ez as the gambler skulked down the street towards the barbershop, hat pulled low over his face. Vin brightened. At least he didn’t have a horse in love with him and he hadn’t kissed Bucklin!
He frowned and gnawed his lower lip. On the other hand, Chris was laid up at the boarding house with a broken leg and it was all his fault. He flinched, and then took a resigned breath. He was a Tanner, By God, and it was time he marched himself up there and apologized to the man. Still, he was mighty glad he didn’t have a carthorse following him around town and into the saloon, and the thought of smooching Bucklin made him a mite queasy.
Maybe he could make it up to the surly gunslinger somehow. He scratched his head as he pondered, then forced himself to square his shoulders and head out onto the boardwalk to the saloon. Maybe if he showed up with a bottle of good sippin’ whisky in hand, Larabee would think twice about shooting him. Still, he was glad he didn’t meet anyone on the way. He still found it hard to greet the townsfolk without blushing in remembered humiliation.
7777777
Chris Larabee was bored out of his skull. He yawned and shut his book and resisted the urge to hurl it against the wall. Nathan had left him propped up in bed, clad only in a pair of hacked off drawers, splinted leg cushioned by pillows. He was under strict orders to stay abed for a few days until the bruised swelling around his fractured shin had resided. Then, if he was lucky he might be allowed to use crutches to limp out and sit on the boardwalk.
Buck had dropped by and taken great delight in relating how the three hung over miscreants were recovering and dealing with their misadventure. To Ezra’s dismay, Virgil Watson’s horse had apparently become so enamored with the gambler that she tried to follow him whenever she saw him. Virgil was on the verge of accusing him of horse theft. JD still turned beet red with humiliation whenever he saw Buck and Vin was practically hiding out in his dilapidated old wagon.
Larabee felt a grin tug at his mouth at the thought of Tanner. The younger man would no doubt duck his curly head and blush like a virgin if anyone mentioned his ‘flight’ in the future, and a blushing Vin made for an appealing picture on any day. Larabee pondered that thought idly for a moment. It wasn’t the first time he had thought of Vin as an attractive man.
The first time he had laid eyes on the man, standing in front of the hardware store awkwardly clutching that broom, he had thought he was the prettiest thing he had seen in months. When Vin had put away the broom and stepped out with a rifle, clear eyes as blue and honest as the sky, the picture had just gotten better. Since his wife’s death, Larabee had reluctantly admitted to himself that no other woman in the world would ever replace her. He had tried hard to feel some attraction for Mary Travis, but the beautiful, headstrong newspaperwoman annoyed the shit out of him. All he felt when he saw her was a vague sense of irritation.
He had used Lydia, Maria and even Ella to scratch an itch and try desperately to regain some of the lost feeling of tenderness and trust he had with his wife. None of it had worked, and his capacity for self-deception when it came to Ella had sickened him. He shivered, remembering standing in her fancy parlor, watching as Vin had walked away from him. He had never felt so desolate and lost in his life.
He sighed and punched irritably at his pillows. If he was going to be honest with himself, he may as well go for broke. Women simply did not appeal anymore. They were too…soft. Too fragile for the hard world he chose to inhabit. He had dallied with men before during the war, and on the trail and did not find it distasteful. Lately when he thought of spending time with anyone, Vin was the only one who appealed to him.
He flopped back with a groan and threw his arm over his eyes. Great. Now he was lusting after his best friend. Tanner may as well shoot him now and get it over with. Still, when he remembered Vin’s simple declaration on the roof, it brought a warm glow to his jaded heart. Damn. If only Vin really meant what he had said. Well, a man could dream.
Lost in thought, it was a minute before he realized someone was knocking softly on the door. He straightened guiltily, yanked the quilt over his lap, glared at his uncooperative limb, made sure his gun was at hand and called, “Come in.”
He found himself perking up considerably when a tousled head and already flushed face poked shyly around the door. Tanner elbowed his way into the room, carefully balancing a fully laden breakfast tray, which he placed on the small bedside table. He ducked his head under Chris’ bright gaze.
“Miz Collier asked me ta bring your breakfast up, so she could head out ta Sunday school.” He gave Larabee a crooked grin and a wink as he pulled a tall bottle out of his coat pocket and offered it to Chris. “Reckon you could use some dessert later.”
Larabee took the offered bottle and raised a blond brow at the venerable label. He whistled softly.
“Kentucky bourbon? You been sneaking into Ez’ stash Tanner?” he teased gently, recognizing Vin’s silent attempt at an apology. To his delight, Tanner blushed and ducked his head again before raising laughing eyes to Chris’.
“Miss Inez dug it out of the back stock for me. Said Ez would never miss it.” He grinned slyly at Chris. “Especially if we drink it up before he knows it’s gone.” They exchanged pleased smirks.
“Pull up a chair, pard, and sit for a spell.” Larabee indicated the lone ladder-back chair in the room.
He reached for the tray and dug happily into the steak and eggs as Vin obeyed, dragging the chair over from the corner to place it next to the bed. He removed his hat and hung it on the chair. They sat in companionable silence while Chris worked his way through the hearty breakfast. As he forked in the last bite of steak, he noticed Vin’s eyes on his splinted leg.
“It’s not so bad,” he said gruffly, wanting to reassure the younger man and erase the pained look in those blue eyes. “Won’t be long until I’m on my feet again. Nate said it was a minor fracture, whatever the hell that is.”
Vin gave him a weak smile in return. He still felt guilty as hell for drinking that damned elixir, but his lower back had been aching like a sonufabitch that day and causing severe discomfort. Plus, Ezra and JD had cheerfully egged him on as they swigged from their own bottles. He scowled. Next time he would just say no.
Larabee felt a fond smile cross his face as he watched Vin carry on with his internal dialog. He knew the young man would blame himself until Chris succeeded in diverting his attention elsewhere. He glanced around the room. Maybe a game of cards. He thought he had a deck here somewhere. He sat his now empty plate and the tray aside.
“How about a hand of poker, pard? I’m pretty sure I’ve got a deck around here somewhere.”
“Sure, Cowboy,” Vin replied amiably.
Larabee leaned awkwardly over to tug open the small drawer on the bedside table, the drawer stuck and he grunted as he tried to pull it free. Vin quickly rose and leaned over to lend a hand. Their fingers brushed and tangled for a moment before it came free with a jerk. Vin quickly dropped his hand, hoping Chris hadn’t notice his flushed face in reaction to that simple touch.
“Thanks, pard,” Larabee said softly, pulling out the deck of worn pasteboard cards, one of Ezra’s discards. “Why don’t you pour us a shot of that fine whisky? Glasses are on the dresser.”
Tanner nodded and stood to retrieve the shot glasses from the tall dresser. Had he glanced into the mirror, he would have seen the wistful, admiring gaze that Larabee directed at his back. He picked up the glasses and turned to see Chris struggling to move into a more comfortable position, several of his plump, feathered pillows were being uncooperative, and the blond glared as he sought to punch them into submission. One jumped the fence and escaped over the side of the bed, just out of reach, even as Chris groped for it.
Tanner swallowed as the quilt slipped from Larabee’s lean body, revealing the creamy expanse of the blond’s well muscled chest and exposing his long, bare legs. Lord, but Chris was a well-made man! The view got even better when Larabee stretched over the side of the bed reaching for his ornery, stray pillow and the quilt slid completely off his lap. Vin swallowed hard again. Damn.
He gulped and tore his eyes away from that generous bulge nestled in the worn cotton, and stepped forward to help, eyes firmly averted from Larabee’s crotch, fearful of giving offense.
“Here, pard, let me round that dogie up for you,” he offered.
Chris grunted in agreement, sitting back up on the bed. He was flushed and very appealing with his tousled, wheat-blond hair sliding over his eyes. Tanner bent and grabbed the pillow and turned to tuck it behind Larabee’s back. Chris gave him a grateful smile as he tugged his quilt back over his lap. Larabee leaned forward slightly to shift his splinted leg to a more comfortable position atop its pillows, and his good leg chose that exact moment to rebel.
The muscles in his calf twitched and began to cramp unexpectedly in a massive charlie horse, and he yelped in pain as his big toe suddenly decided to curl over and touch the top of his foot. He lunged forward to try and massage the painful cramp out. At the same moment, Vin realized what was happening and bent over the bed to help. Their heads collided with a loud clunk, and both men reeled backwards, seeing stars.
Larabee lay on his back, one hand clutching his head, the other pounding the mattress, cussing and nearly weeping with pain at the same time. Tanner had landed on his backside beside the bed, squinting and rubbing his throbbing noggin. Both men ouched, swore and sniggered helplessly at the situation. Chris’ leg was still cramping and he struggled painfully to reach it.
“Let me help, Cowboy.”
Vin pulled himself up to kneel on the bed and began to massage Chris’ spasming calf muscles with both strong hands. Larabee groaned with relief and flopped back down, one arm flung over his tearing eyes. He had kicked his quilt off, and was inadvertently sprawled almost nude beneath Vin’s hungry eyes.
The younger man rubbed Larabee’s leg briskly, all too aware of the length of hard, fluid muscle beneath his hands, lightly furred with golden hair. To his horror, his impudent body responded and he felt himself growing hard. Face flushed with embarrassment, he sneaked a peek at Larabee’s face, relieved to see that the gunman was unaware, his arm covering his eyes.
Unconsciously, his rough touch eased and became a caress as he worked the hard muscle. Eyes determinedly on his hands, he didn’t see the glance Larabee stole at his intent face from beneath lowered lashes. The gunman was having a small problem of his own as his body responded to Tanner’s massaging hands. While one muscle was slowly relaxing, another was rapidly expanding, bobbing eagerly up to tent Larabee’s drawers and say howdy.
Larabee’s spasming calf finally eased, and he sighed with relief. He groped for the corner of his quilt, hoping to cover his nether regions before Tanner noticed his growing problem. Trying to be casual, he pulled it up and lowered his arm to thank his friend-- just in time to catch the brief hungry look Vin cast over his body. The tracker raised his head, their eyes met and Vin flushed scarlet with embarrassment. Quickly, he removed his hands and stepped away.
“Reckon, I better be goin’ now, got a early patrol,” he croaked, grabbing his hat and pulling it low over his eyes, determined to escape before he could see the contempt and outrage in his friend’s eyes.
He took two steps towards the door before he heard the unmistakable click of a hammer being cocked behind him.
“Hold it right there, Cowboy,” Chris ordered, his voice a husky growl.
Vin froze in his tracks, flinching, almost expecting a bullet in his back. Only Chris didn’t shoot people in the back, he remembered- he waited until they turned around. Slowly, shoulders stiff, he turned, eyes downcast, cheeks scarlet. To his surprise, Larabee didn’t shoot him and he slowly, shamefully raised his head.
Chris was regarding him with a fond smile that slowly grew into a shit eating, devil-may-care leer. He leaned lazily back against his mound of pillows and wagged his gun at the sharpshooter.
“Lock the door,” he purred.
Tanner gulped, jaw dropping, then fumbled to obey. He couldn’t believe he was reading the signs right. Larabee nodded encouragingly, still wearing that evil grin. As soon as the key turned, he waved his gun again.
“Lose the hat.”
Tanner yanked his hat off and sent it sailing across the room to unerringly land on the chair. Chris quirked a blond brow, impressed and Vin smirked.
“Coat, too.”
He eased the heavy hide coat off and let it drop at his feet.
“Boots and belt.”
He unbuckled his gun belt and let it slide down onto the coat, then bent and tugged off his boots one by one. They thudded to the floor, spurs ringing. He straightened, tongue darting out to lick suddenly dry lips. Larabee’s own tongue ran lazily over his lower lip in reply, bright wicked eyes bore into Vin’s.
“Shirt. Bandanna.”
The blond’s breath quickened in anticipation as Tanner unknotted his blue kerchief, lowered his gallowses and fumbled to unbutton his bright red shirt. He slid it slowly off his shoulders, revealing a worn undershirt. He looked questioningly at Larabee, who nodded. He obediently tugged it over his curly head. Chris watched hungrily as the compact, sculpted chest appeared, topped with neat velvet brown nipples.
His voice lowered a register, became even huskier. Vin felt the hair on the nape of his neck rise and his cheeks again flooded with color.
“Pants.”
Slowly, the slim Texan’s hands went to the tiny buttons on his fly, his eyes dropped shyly, as he unbuttoned his tan pants. Larabee hungrily drank in the sight of the exquisite rosy face, the beautifully muscled body. He fully intended to eat this man alive. Tanner lowered and stepped out of his pants. He now wore only an ancient, threadbare pair of drawers, which did absolutely nothing to hide the proud jut of his cock.
Larabee smirked and languidly flipped the corner of his quilt back to wantonly display his own arousal. He tilted the barrel of his colt up and gently lowered the hammer, leaned over and slid it back into the silver studded holster draped over the headboard. His eyes never left Vin’s. Wordlessly, he extended a hand in invitation.
Hesitantly, Vin responded, padding silently across the floor to take the extended hand. Their eyes were locked, each man searching the other’s face. The step they were about to take was irreversible and as inevitable as the pull of the moon to the ocean tides. Chris gave a gentle tug and pulled Vin down beside him on his mound of pillows.
For long minutes blue eyes gazed into hazel, their faces only inches apart. Then slowly they leaned into an embrace, Vin settling against Chris’ broad shoulder, Larabee tilting that square jaw up with one calloused hand to cover Tanner’s mouth with his own, with a soft murmur of pleasure. To their surprise, there was no awkwardness in this first lush kiss. They fit together here too, as simpatico as when they first met.
It was some time before Larabee raised his head to smile down into his partner’s wide eyes. Their breath had involuntarily quickened as they slowly explored each other’s mouths. Chris’ hand had slid around to cup the back of Vin’s curly head, and a tentative arm had crept up to encircle the blond’s neck. The gunfighter ran a gentle thumb over Vin’s kiss swollen mouth, his smile growing tender at the younger man’s unconscious response, his dark lashes drooping with pleasure, his pliant lips parting under the soft touch.
How long had it been since anyone touched Vin with affection? If Larabee had any say in the matter, the only person touching the younger man in any personal way or form in the future would be him. Unconsciously possessive, he pulled Vin closer and bent his head to take his mouth in a fierce kiss. Tanner moaned softly, arms winding around Larabee’s neck, as the blond pressed him down into the pillows.
For long minutes they kissed, exploring each other’s mouths, each man memorizing the scent and taste of the other. Larabee found he couldn’t get enough of the taste and feel of the moist, pliant lips beneath his, and he fed on the soft mouth, nibbling and licking greedily.
Vin in turn was nearly drunk with sensation. No one had ever kissed him like this in his young life, like they intended to devour him.
Larabee took his time, lazily feasting on silken, salty skin as he worked his way slowly down Vin’s throat and torso. He nibbled and nursed on tender, succulent earlobes, delicately nipped along the curve of that square jaw, enjoying the rasp of Tanner’s sparse stubble against his own. He took careful note of every sweet spot he hit for further exploration. Nuzzling into the strong curve of Vin’s throat, he gave into the desire to mark his territory and sucked and bit until he had worked up a substantial love bite.
Vin arched and gasped beneath his working mouth, hands clutching helplessly at Chris’ bare shoulders. Larabee was taking possession of his body an inch at a time and he was helpless to resist, or even respond—all he could do was feel. He was panting like a wind broke horse and biting his lip to keep from moaning out loud. Hell, if Chris kept this up, he was gonna have to stuff his own mouth with one of Larabee’s overstuffed pillows to keep from screaming out loud in sheer pleasure.
Larabee smirked against warm skin as he nipped along the arch of Vin’s clavicle at the muted sounds the man made. Hell, he could feast for days on the beautiful body beneath him. Who would have guessed that those layers of hide and cotton hid such salty, tangy, silken skin? He ran his tongue down the center of Vin’s chest between well-cut pectorals, rubbing his jaw against their subtle swell, like a big cat scent marking his territory. The tiny, dark brown nipples were irresistible and he spent leisurely minutes carefully suckling each into a rock hard point, nipping with sharp teeth and nursing on velvet aureoles.
Tanner bucked beneath him with a choked off cry, strong hands slapping and digging into Larabee’s shoulders. One found its way up to tangle in the blond hair and Chris noted with wry amusement that Vin seemed torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away. He gave the tit he was abusing a fond lick and raised his head to grin into dazed blue eyes.
“Before we go any farther, pard, maybe you’d better tell me just how far you’ve been?”
Vin stared into his face for a moment, struggling to focus. He licked his swollen lips slowly. Was it so obvious that he was inexperienced? Larabee clearly knew exactly what he was doing! Would Chris stop if he told him the truth? He found himself flushing rosily under the gunslinger’s steady hazel gaze. He wanted this to be as good for Larabee as it was for him.
Larabee stared down into the suddenly vulnerable young face. Vin looked nervous, almost scared, as he unconsciously bit his lower lip. Chris brought a loving hand up and soothed it gently with a thumb, as he suddenly guessed that the younger man was less experienced with male-to-male sex then he had previously thought. He waited to see if Tanner would bluff or call. He didn’t want Vin to think that he had to hide anything from him.
Fascinated, he watched as color once again flooded Tanner’s face and the dark blue eyes shuttered and slid away from his.
“I ain’t no virgin, Larabee,” the younger man muttered.
Chris frowned as Vin tensed in his arms, sensing that something the sharpshooter wasn’t saying was troubling him. Gently, he tilted Tanner’s chin up until his eyes reluctantly lifted to meet Larabee’s.
“It don’t matter to me none, pard. I just don’t wanna scare you off before we get to the good stuff.”
He flashed white teeth in a leer, pleased when Vin grinned back and snorted.
“Hell, Chris it’s pretty damned good now. It gets much better, I’m gonna be bitin’ one of yer pillas.”
Delighted, he smirked down into his partner’s face.
“You sayin’ I make you wanna holler, Tanner?”
Vin chuckled and raised one shy hand to trace Larabee’s wide smile. He felt himself flushing again, and shook his head at his own foolishness.
“Reckon,” he answered softly. His lashes lowered again, before he raised his dark blue eyes to meet Chris’ squarely.
“I ain’t never … I ain’t sure what…” His voice trailed off.
“Sure of what, Cowboy?” Chris asked softly.
Touched by Vin’s bashfulness, he turned his head to brush a light kiss across his fingertips. Tanner’s eyes dropped again at the tender gesture. Eyes fixed on Chris’ collarbone, he spoke softly, almost painfully.
“Nobody ever kissed me like that before, not even Charlotte, and the only feller I ever been with never kissed me…even when he…” His voice trailed off again. He licked his lips again, uncertainly, before continuing, vulnerable blue eyes rising bravely to meet Larabee’s, as he sought words to explain unfamiliar emotions.
“I was seventeen…I hadn’t never been with anybody before. He was my partner for awhile when we was huntin’ buffalo,” he offered simply by way of explanation.
The surge of pure, jealous rage he felt took Chris by surprise. If he ever met the fool that had treated Vin so callously he would make damned sure he died of lead poisoning. Whoever he was he had obviously been a blind moron not see the gift he had been offered. None of his anger showed on his face though, as he bent his head and kissed Vin with tender ferocity, tongue deeply delving into Tanner’s mouth.
Besides, no one but him would be kissing Vin in the future anyway. Reluctantly, he raised his head and smiled down into the hot, rosy face.
“Good. That means you get to do all your practicing on me," he said firmly.
To his great pleasure, that cocky eyebrow rose and Tanner grinned up at him, blue eyes crinkled and alive with suppressed laughter.
“Does, does it? Reckon you got a mighty high opinion of yerself Larabee!”
He was happily winding both arms around Chris’ neck and nuzzling his mouth as he spoke, soft lips warm, insistent, and totally distracting as Larabee very nearly forgot what they had been talking about. Careful of his bad leg, the gunslinger moved to lazily settle on top of the smaller man, completely blanketing him and trapping him snugly in the mound of feather pillows.
He smirked triumphantly down at his prey, and then proceeded to slowly kiss the younger man senseless, taking his time to taste and enjoy the lush mouth. For long minutes the only sounds were the soft smack of lip against lip, the soft sounds of pleasure Vin made, the increasingly rapid rate of their breathing as Larabee took the time to savor and pleasure his lover. He was determined that the first time he and Vin made love would be one the younger man never forgot. Raising his head, he grinned wickedly down at Vin.
“Practice makes perfect, pard.”
7777777
The sunlight moved across the room to gild golden brown skin, and lace shadows cast through the curtains dappled Vin’s back as Chris helped him gently ease astride his hips. His own breath hitched as he stared up at his lover’s rapt face, as Vin slowly took his thick erection deep inside himself, and began to rock gently, hands braced flat against Larabee’s hard pecs for balance. When Tanner threw his head back in mute pleasure, lush mouth open, face flushed with sexual heat, his hips involuntarily bucked hard at the erotic sight.
For a laughter filled moment there had been a mad scramble to find the tin of salve Chris kept for chapped skin, in the bedside table. He made a mental note to stock up on tins of sweet oil and salve, even as he watched his lover rock slowly on his hard cock, pleasuring them both so sweetly. Vin truly had no idea of just how attractive he was, and Larabee cherished him all the more for it.
The bed springs softly creaked out a steady cadence to their lovemaking. Larabee sprawled wantonly beneath his lover, leg braced securely with pillows, as Tanner rode him slowly towards orgasm. Eyes locked, hands entwined, pausing for lazy kisses, they made love as though they had all the time in the world, as though that same violent world could never encroach upon their lives. Vin held him in tight, velvet heat and rocked him tenderly towards a climax unlike any he had ever known.
All the trust and compassion their lives had previously been devoid of, they would rediscover in each other in this old, wrought iron bed. Tanner had been made drunk on Larabee’s kisses, and Larabee cherished and filled with the warmth of Tanner’s empathy. Together they found themselves cleaving to each other, twining hearts and minds as well as limbs. Climax, when they finally reached it, rolled over them like a tidal wave and left them clinging together, breathless and soaked.
Vin drowsed, warm in Chris’ arms, his damp tousled head on Larabee’s shoulder, breath soft against his chest. Larabee dozed lightly himself, relaxed for the first time in what felt like years, chin resting on a curly head. It was almost noon when there was a brisk knock at his door, followed by Buck’s nosy, boisterous inquiry after he tried the knob and found it locked. Opening sleepy hazel eyes, he found himself staring into anxious lapis blue. He gave Vin a slow, reassuring smile and lazily reached down to tug the quilt up more cozily around their shoulders, before calmly and firmly replying.
“Go away, Buck. We’re trying to nap here.”
There was a moment of eloquent silence. Larabee could almost picture the inquisitive look, wagging brows and twitching moustache on Buck’s face through the door. Buck was about to die of curiosity. Vin was still as a mouse in his arms. Outside the door, Wilmington noisily cleared his throat.
“Well, all right, then! I’ll see you boys later.” He sounded extremely pleased with himself.
Larabee snorted. They would never hear the end of this. He grinned down into astonished blue eyes and tightened his hold. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
Three weeks later…
Colonel Cornelius Culpepper sniffed haughtily, whiskers quivering with indignation and snapped his reins smartly, urging his team of horses out of the town limits as quickly as possible. The good colonel had been escorted from various towns post haste previously in his long and venerable career, but this was the first time he had been discouraged from even entering one. Yet, no sooner had his matched team of grays pulling his gaudily painted patent medicine wagon clip-clopped down the wide, dusty street, then no fewer than four formidable regulators had popped up, seemingly out of nowhere and firmly escorted him out of town.The good colonel had not even had a chance to descend from his seat and have a drink, or even make use of the privy, before a lean, limping, gimlet-eyed gunslinger in funereal black, a hulking, scowling, gray haired preacher, a tall, frowning cowboy and a glaring black man appeared and informed him in no uncertain terms exactly what he could do with his merchandise and where they would put said merchandise if he proved recalcitrant. There had even been brief mention made of the use of a rail as well as a liberal application of tar and feathers.
The colonel sighed. Where was the sheriff when one needed one? Whatever happened to free enterprise? Oh well, there was always Red Rock Bluff. Or Haines City. Or Purgatorio. His elixir was a big seller in Purgatorio. He clucked at his team and headed off down the dusty road to peddle his healing elixir in a milieu where it would be more appreciated.
Perhaps it was time to change the formula to give the decoction a bit more clout and make it taste better. Possibly the addition of a couple of bottles of cherry brandy to the next batch… a touch of sassafras root, a pinch of ginseng…mind happily abuzz over an assortment of formulas, he took a long swig from his personal flask and hiccoughed thoughtfully. There were always new suckers, err, customers to be found down the road.
FINI