This story is inspired by a song (which is typed and credited at the end of the story) that immediately made me think of Chris and Vin. I heard the song on the radio and this story hijacked everything else I was writing, and wrote itself in nearly one sitting. I have unapologetically incorporated sections of lyrics into the story – you’ll recognize them – because they fit so perfectly. The title is unimaginative, but appropriate.
No warnings, except perhaps a little schmaltz.
Feedback is most welcome.
Vin stood before his bathroom mirror, where he had been standing for longer than he had ever stood in front of a mirror in his whole life. Because this mattered more than anything ever had in his whole life.
If he kept dithering he’d be late. He kept reminding himself of this, kept looking at the clock, as if to make time stand still. Just for him. Just for a little while. Just until he could keep the butterflies from battering their way out of his stomach. More like great emperor moths.
Should he wear his hair down, or tie it back? He liked it down. It looked good down, regardless of all the hassle he got at the office. He’d finally listened to Ezra’s advice and spent more money than any sane person should spend on hair products, buying name-brand conditioner and something called liqui-gel. But if it’s gel, why don’t they just call it gel? And if it’s liquid, why do they call it gel? There are some things he figured he’d never understand.
But if he wore it down, would it make him look too casual? Too feminine? He always worried about that, especially now that he had brushed it within an inch of its life and then ‘scrunched’ it, that was the word Ezra used, with the slippery gel stuff. It certainly made it shine. Soft too. Definitely too feminine. In the end, he chose a simple black leather thong and tied his newly tamed locks at the nape of his neck. Too late to get a haircut anyway. He should have thought of that sooner.
He carefully positioned the hair to hide his ears, his little pointy ears that were ever a source of embarrassment and torment when he was a child. Last thing he needed was to call attention to them now. His face was smooth, very smooth. Taking Ezra’s advice again, he had purchased a new moisturizing after shave, which the Southerner had called balm. It didn’t smell too girly. Smelled nice, clean. Felt good. Vin wished there was a stomach balm. He had worked himself up to a near frenzy. Going on busts didn’t make him this nervous. Facing a host of armed men, climbing to the tops of towers and trees and buildings – life and death situations didn’t make him this nervous.
But this was life and death to him.
This was dinner. With Chris. Dinner with Chris at his ranch. He’d had dinner there dozens of times with the guys. Dozens of times, he thought dismally. It’s probably nothing to Chris. After all, it’s just me. And I’m nothing special. Just me. Just the two of us. Fuck. It was his fault really. He’d been jumpier than a rabbit around the office the past week and he figured Chris would want to know why.
Well Larabee, be careful what you ask for.
He turned his head from side to side, looking at himself in that mirror, looking at the same face he’d seen all his life, knowing that this was it. This was as good as it was going to get. Although Ezra had been right, as usual. The blue shirt did bring out the color of his eyes. Eyes that looked entirely too timid and intimidated, and he wasn’t even at the ranch yet. Chris would be able to smell the fear on him. He’s like that. Like a panther on the prowl, all sleek muscle and raw power. Beautiful and frightening.
He’s the strongest man I’ve ever known and he’ll see right through me. He always does.
Vin stepped away from the mirror knowing that standing there wasn’t going to change anything, and drifted into the kitchen for a beer. Liquid courage. He was going to be late now.
He wondered if Chris would notice his new shirt. It was made of some material that he couldn’t pronounce, some synthesized poly-something that felt like thin suede. And he’d bought a new pair of jeans. They were exceedingly tight. He adjusted himself and pulled at a stray thread on his thigh.
Reckon they ought ta catch Larabee’s eye if nothin’ else.
He downed his beer in several long swallows, enjoying the calming effect it had on his frantic stomach, and headed back into the bedroom for his boots. They were cleaned and polished, him having spent more time on them than any other aspect of his appearance. Outfit complete, he stepped back in the bathroom one last time and took one last look at himself.
Well, Tanner, this is it. You’ve waited all your life for something true. Ya can’t hide from it any longer.
But he wanted to. He hadn’t meant to fall in love. There had always been something special between the two of them, something that transcended friendship and kinship. It had always been there from the beginning. Eyes met, souls bonded, and Vin had lost his heart. It slipped away from him before he even realized it was gone. Gone to a man who had buried his own heart a long time ago. Guess Chris thought he needed another one. Vin had never said anything, not that they ever needed many words between them, but he felt a pull stronger than gravity, stronger than the blood pulsing in his veins, pulling him inexorably toward a truth that he wasn’t sure Larabee was ready to embrace. And if he wasn’t, then Vin would lose everything.
Everything you’ve never even had, Tanner. Everything you’re not even worth.
Keys in hand, he turned out the lights and left his apartment, feeling he was standing on the edge of a high precipice, not knowing if there would be anyone below to catch him when he fell.
So much for his hair, he thought, as he drove down the highway to Chris’s ranch. The wind felt good though, cool and clean, whipping across his heated skin. Stars sparkled like crushed ice in the inky dome of the night sky. He wanted to close his eyes and let the wind carry him away. He tried to relax, rehearsing in his mind what he thought he would say, what he would like to say when the moment came, hoping he wouldn’t be too weak to say it. Should he come right out and tell the man he loved him? Was that too much too fast? Then again, Chris was about as subtle as a sledgehammer. Man could be as dense as a slab of granite, and was yet one of the most insightful people Vin knew. Maybe he’d understand.
Yeah, and maybe he’ll shoot you. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?
Vin screeched to a halt, pulling off the highway, and leaned his forehead against the steering wheel, gripping the vinyl until his knuckles turned white. This was impossible. Chris would never want him, could never want him, had never given even the slightest indication that he wanted him. That he wanted men. He wasn’t Buck, chasing everything in a skirt until it was out of that skirt, but he’d dated Mary Travis. And she was everything Vin wasn’t. Educated, cultured, smart, sophisticated. Beautiful.
Daring to raise his head and look himself in the rear view mirror, Vin tried to see anything in himself that Larabee might see, might be attracted to, and failed. Surprisingly, that made him smile. If it was hopeless, then there was nothing to worry about. It was only dinner. They’d eat, have a few beers, watch TV, maybe tend to the horses, and Vin would go home. If Chris wasn’t interested, then they could laugh about it and they’d still be friends. He hoped.
If not, then ya can pack and be outta here by mornin’. Ain’t nothin’ ya need ya can’t fit int’a suit case.
That was his life, after all. Efficient, compact, mobile. And don’t forget easily replaceable, he said under his breath. He looked over his left shoulder and pulled back out onto the highway. Now he was really late. He was thinking of a plausible excuse when his cell phone rang.
Trying to keep the squeak out of his voice, he answered, “Tanner.”
“Hey pard, you comin’?”
“Yeah, cowboy. Just runnin’ late. I’ll be there in ten.”
“Good. I was afraid for a minute that your jeep had broken down. Again. And I’d have to come get your sorry ass and bring you out here.” There was laughter in his voice which made Vin feel a little better. At least he didn’t have to make something up on the fly. Not good to start the evening on a lie.
“Not yet.”
“Ok. See ya in ten.”+ + + + + + +
Chris hung up his phone. It wasn’t usual for Vin to be running a little late, but something had been going on with him all week and Chris wanted to give him the chance to talk about it. He wouldn’t bring it up. He knew better than to try to pry conversation out of the man, which was usually fine by them. Vin was the only man with whom he could truly share silence, companionable silence. They could read each other like proverbial books, except lately they didn’t seem to be on the same page. Maybe not even the same volume.
Vin had been edgy, not just his normally guarded, reticent self, but actually agitated. It had been like watching someone who needed to sneeze and just couldn’t. It was like he was working up to it, but the release never came. So by the end of the week Chris thought Vin was about to explode. Knowing Vin, it had probably taken him this long just to figure out how to say whatever was on his mind, to make sure that the words came out right when he said them. Then he would say them in his typically minimalist, precise vocabulary, and be done with it.
Vin wasn’t one to ever seek advice. By the time he got around to talking about things, he’d already worked them out. So Chris hoped this was the case. He didn’t like to see his best friend tied up in knots, probably over something that wasn’t his fault. But that was Vin. He took more on his shoulders than any ten men. Felt everything very deeply. Felt more personally responsible for his friends than anyone Chris had ever known. Chris knew that most people wouldn’t peg Vin as either possessive or defensive, but then again, most people didn’t really know Vin. He never let them get that close.
All most people saw was the scruffy, lethargic, self-possessed exterior that Vin projected so well. Yet he was so keenly perceptive it was frightening. Had a mind like a steel trap. Perhaps too much, Chris mused. Bloody difficult to ever get anything out of the man.
Chris looked at the clock and put the green beans on. They’d be done right about the time Vin walked in the door. The steaks were keeping warm in the oven, along with the sweet potatoes. Vin loved those. With brown sugar and butter. That made Chris smile, that he could remember all the little things that Vin liked. Then again, it was fairly easy most of the time, because they basically shared the same tastes, the same interests.
Guess that’s what makes us work so well, Chris mused, stirring some salt into the water with the beans. No surprises. We’re hand in glove, although I’d hate to argue with him about who’s the glove. He chuckled at that thought. Vin was the only person he knew who could out argue him. He wasn’t so much stubborn as he was resolute. Ok, so he was damn stubborn too, although Ezra would call that tenacious.
Pulling two frosted mugs out of the freezer, he set them next to the places at the table and smiled. Seems like I’m always smiling when I think of spending time with Vin. That thought came out of nowhere, so he shoved it from his mind when he heard the doorbell.
“Since when does Vin ring the bell? Or even knock, for Christsakes? It’s a bad sign when you start talking to yourself out loud, Larabee.”
He padded in his sock feet to the door and opened it. And then stopped dead. He stared in complete awe at the sight before him. Vin was … beautiful. There was no other word for it. His face was slightly wind burned from the drive in and it colored his cheeks an alarmingly attractive flush. His vivid blue shirt billowed a little in the breeze, floating like gauze on his slim frame. Chris had the almost irrepressible urge to reach out and touch it, but all he could really think about were Vin’s eyes. They normally winked with mischief or sparkled with humor, but this evening, they shone, no dazzled. Vin was dazzling. A stray curl of hair hung free from his pony tail and dangled at the side of his face, and Chris found himself reaching up and brushing it away, tucking it behind one ear.
Vin flinched involuntarily at the touch, and Chris came back to his senses. “Sorry,” he stuttered, wondering just how long his jaw had been hanging open. “C’mon in. You know you don’t have to ring the bell.” He smiled then, as much to ease his own tension as to get Vin to smile back. For some reason, he needed to see Vin smile. But he didn’t. He ducked his head a little and crossed the threshold.
Vin thought his heart had stopped beating, even though he could feel it threatening to leap right out of his chest, when Chris opened the door and stood there staring at him, as though he’d never seen him before in his life. God, do I look that bad? He had stopped breathing when Chris had reached out and touched his hair. But then he tucked it behind an ear, and Vin pulled away. And then it was lost – that moment when time had stopped, just like he’d wanted it to – and Chris seemed to realize what he was doing.
So Vin hadn’t even tried to smile as he walked through the living room into the kitchen. He was afraid to speak. He just opened the fridge and grabbed two beers. Chris always kept his favorite brand. Just like he kept a cupboard full of junk food he knew Vin liked. Just like he let Vin stable his horse there, kept a change of clothes for Vin in a guest bedroom, had bought movies he knew Vin liked, always built a fire when Vin got cold. God, would it be so hard for Larabee to see how much their lives were already so much more fused together than they were apart? How their lives could be so much more together than they could be apart. When the kitchen timer went off next to him, Vin jumped.
“Jeez, Vin. Here,” Chris handed him a frosted mug, “Looks like you need a drink.” He smiled again and pulled the beans off the stove. “Have a seat. Dinner’ll be out in a sec.”
Vin didn’t sit directly, even though his legs were wobbly. Chris was a striking vision in black. Good thing, since he almost always wore black. He was poured into his own tight-fitting black jeans, and a thin black t-shirt that highlighted his broad shoulders and muscular torso. Vin knew well what he looked like without it; solid, defined, gorgeous. Stray locks of blonde hair hung over his forehead and Vin knew he could be perfectly content to stand there and stare at him all night. Damnit, Tanner, say something! “Ya want some help, cowboy?”
“Nope. Just sit.”
Vin thought he’d better sit before he fell over. Between the car and the kitchen, his legs had almost forgotten their sole function as a part of the body. He made himself as comfortable as he could at the table, shifting a little and adjusting himself again. Fighting with his jeans would be a losing battle, so eventually he stopped fidgeting and concentrated on drinking his beer. Maybe they could just skip eating and just drink their dinners, then he’d have the nerve to say what he wanted to say. What he’d been dying to say for nearly a year.
Chris watched his friend out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t like the way Vin couldn’t sit still. Vin could remain motionless in one position for longer than anyone he’d ever known. It wasn’t like him to fidget or shift restlessly in his seat. Frequently his legs would go numb, squatting or kneeling on the roof of some building while he watched their backs during a bust.
I guess I really haven’t been doing a good job of watching his back, Chris thought as he loaded their plates and brought them to the table. I’ve let him get this worked up and haven’t even offered to listen. Well, I’ll listen. Whatever he has to say, we’ve got all night.+ + + + + + +
Vin discovered that he was hungry once his plate was set in front of him. He attacked his food with single-minded deliberation, and Chris seemed content to eat a while in silence. It was good, really good, and Vin figured he ought to at least mention that.
“S’really good, pard. I didn’t know I’s this hungry.”
“When are you not hungry, Tanner?” Chris raised an eyebrow, and let a half grin play on his lips. “Always suspected you had a hollow leg. Maybe that’s what’s been makin’ you so restless this evenin’.” There, he’d opened a door, just a crack. It would be up to Vin to take the opening and finally let loose what he’d been keeping locked so tight.
Vin shrugged one shoulder and looked back at his food. Chris nodded to himself. Evidently, he’s gonna chew some more, literally and figuratively.
Chris brought them another round of beers and began to talk about nothing in particular. He was thinking about expanding the corral, maybe buying another horse. There was a mare he had in mind, and maybe Vin could come out with him and look her over. He talked about football this Sunday, having the boys out, maybe firing up the grill. Maybe the Cowboys would win for a change. Vin seemed happy to half-way participate, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.
Vin gladly let Chris carry the weight of the conversation, but sensed that his friend was just talking to talk, unhappy that Chris felt the need to fill the silence. Silence had never been a problem between them until he had to go and make it uncomfortable. As he suspected, Chris knew there was something wrong. In a way, that made it a little easier. Now he couldn’t deny it. He couldn’t avoid asking his question, even though he was afraid to know the answer. But he’d come this far, and he’d do anything to be with him. Anything at all.
And it scared him. It was truly terrifying to be that out of control, to have to trust someone else entirely, to surrender to the power they don’t even know they have. As he shoved the last bite of steak into his mouth, he realized he’d consumed his entire meal twice as fast as Chris had … which made him feel like an ass.
“You want more?” Chris asked, pointing his fork at Vin’s empty plate. “I made extra, knowing you. I’m glad you thought it was that good.”
Yes I want more, so much more. Vin swallowed hard to keep himself from speaking those words, and just shook his head. “But I’ll take another beer. Nah, you eat. I’ll get it.”
He rose from the table, almost wincing as his jeans pinched him unmercifully, and took his empty plate to the sink. Chris watched him walk away, his eyes falling down the length of Vin’s back to his ass, framed temptingly in his skin tight jeans. Larabee had to blink several times, and discovered he was actually leaning around the corner of the kitchen cabinets to get a better view of that perfect ass. Vin had a natural swagger to him, a seductive sway of his hips that Chris found enthralling. He’d always noticed how the sharpshooter moved, with such careless ease, a beguiling grace that fooled most people into believing he was either docile just plain lazy. Larabee knew he was neither. He pulled himself back upright before Vin turned around.
Damn. What the hell has gotten into you, Larabee? Checking out your best friend’s ass. Since when have you ever thought to do that? He’d shoot you.
He shook his head as Vin pulled another beer from the fridge.
“Ya want one?”
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks, Vin. This’ll be your third. You better watch yourself if you’re driving home. If not, I do have a spare bedroom, or three, for such occasions.” It was not rare that one of the boys had too much to drink and needed to sleep it off. One of the benefits of having his sprawling ranch home was that there was always room for family, and that’s what his team was to him, family. They filled the gaping holes left in his life when his wife and son were murdered, and none more so than Vin. Again he smiled.
“Whatcha grinnin’ at, cowboy?”
Chris’s head snapped up, apparently he’d been dreaming at his half-eaten yam, and he looked at Vin across the table. He’d never outright told Vin what a difference he’d made in his life. No harm in the truth, he thought. “Just you. I’m glad you’re here.”
Vin nearly choked on his beer. He had to drink several mouthfuls of it as he suddenly lost all the saliva in his mouth and felt his throat clench up on him. A smiling Chris Larabee was a disconcerting spectacle at best. A complimentary one was truly scary. Was he reading too much into what Chris had just said? Had Chris been hitting the whiskey before he got there?
“Thanks, pard. I’m glad too.” Vin thought that didn’t sound stupid. It sounded safe.
“So you wanna tell me what’s been bothering you all week?” Chris pushed his plate away from him and leaned back in his chair. One of the things he’d learned from Josiah was how to interpret body language, and how to use it. He adopted as non-threatening a posture as possible, and looked at Vin with what he hoped were calm, welcoming eyes. When Vin only appeared more ill at ease, Chris wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood up. “Let’s take this into the living room.”
He washed his plate at the sink, made sure the stove and oven were off, and turned back to Vin, who was still sitting at the table, head bowed, paying extremely close attention to his hands. Chris really didn’t like the look of this. He was beginning to get worried. Was it that bad? He got himself another beer, and on impulse grabbed two shot glasses. “I think this calls for whiskey,” he announced.
Vin couldn’t agree more.+ + + + + + +
Three shots later, Vin was starting to feel the effects. Warmth crept into his limbs, relaxing them even against the constraint of his jeans. This was the last damn time he listened to Ezra about buying new jeans before a big date. He grinned stupidly to himself, thinking about how he’d not told Ezra a date with whom. Fuzziness stole around the edges of his vision, like looking at a Christmas tree through frost-covered glass. Made everything twinkle in a muted sort of way. Made Chris look very soft and fluffy. That was an absurd thought. A fluffy Chris.
Chris sat on the other side of the sofa, partially reclined, one leg drawn up beneath him, just waiting for his friend to speak. Vin was drinking more than he usually did and couldn’t hold his liquor nearly as well as Chris could, and Chris was feeling pretty darn buzzed himself. He thought back over the last week. They had just finished a case, and it had gone very smoothly. By the book, for a change. No one was in the hospital, at least none of the team. That didn’t mean someone else might not be in trouble. Maybe Vin was in trouble. He was just looking at his shot glass, turning it round and round in his hands, and grinning. That was a change for the better. Whiskey always helps.
Vin certainly thought so. He reached out to the coffee table and poured himself another shot, not as steadily as the previous two. Chris extended a hand to take the bottle and their fingers met. Vin’s gaze journeyed down his arm to his hand, and then to Chris’s, and then up along his long, strong, bare arm to his face. Those hazel eyes seized Vin’s, and Vin knew he couldn’t hide any longer. Everything he’d ever wanted in the world was sitting right next to him.
Chris withdrew the bottle, slowly, carefully, afraid of startling the obviously dumbstruck man next to him. In stead of pouring himself a shot, he set the bottle back down on the coffee table and moved a little closer to Vin.
“You think you can tell me what’s wrong now? I’m a little worried, pard.”
In a well practiced move, Vin tipped his glass back and let the lovely, amber liquid drain down his throat in one swallow. He was well on his way to being very inebriated, but not yet drunk enough to keep his hand from trembling as he tipsily edged his glass onto the coffee table.
Noticing that Vin’s hand was shaking, Vin whose hands were more steady that Nathan’s, Chris reached out and took a hold of it, locking his fingers with Vin’s, settling them both in the now narrowed space between them. He paused momentarily, staring down at their fingers entwined, almost unable to tell which were his and which were Vin’s. It felt good. His brow furrowed and he glanced over at Vin, who was also staring at their hands, with a queer, crooked smile on his lips. Lips that he licked slowly, before speaking.
“I didn’t think I’d have the guts to say what I’m about to say. Not to anyone. I don’t even know how to begin.” His words sounded remarkably steady even though his tongue felt thick and useless. He didn’t look up, afraid to see anything that might be spoken in Chris’s hazel eyes.
“S’ok, pard. You know you can tell me anything.” Chris thought he meant it.
“I hope so, cowboy.” Vin began to rub his thumb very gently against Chris’s hand. “Cause I’m in love with you. Have been since the day we met. You don’t know that every time ya walk int’a room, I’m scared to move. And not fer the reasons most people are scared of ya.” He managed a wry smile. “But I can’t hide ‘nymore. I’ve fallen so far I can’t see my way back. The only way is back ta you. You’re the only truth I know.”
Chris was beyond shocked. Of all the things he’d expected to hear, this had never entered his mind. It occurred to him, then, that he was still holding Vin’s hand. And Vin was stroking it. Reflexively, he yanked away and sat back, exhaling a large waft of air he didn’t know he’d been holding in. He stared dazedly past the coffee table at the large plate glass window on the other side of the room.
“I don’t know what to say, Vin.” He felt suddenly very lost. His best friend had just told him he was in love with him.
“You could say that ya love me too,” Vin offered weakly.
“I can’t.” Chris winced as he said the words. God, he was a callous asshole. Vin still hadn’t looked at him, but Chris saw him smile a bitter, cynical little smile.
Chris turned fully to him, hoping he would say something, anything. But he didn’t. Vin simply nodded, stood, walked to the front door, and left. The click of the door latch was ominous, like cocking a gun. A crunch of gravel followed, and Vin was gone. Larabee slouched into the sofa and ran a hand across his face. Was that it? Now what? Maybe Vin was drunk. No, Chris knew that wasn’t true. Well, he was drunk, but it had taken the alcohol to give him the nerve to speak, to say what were probably the most difficult words he’d ever had to speak in his life.
“And I just shot him down and all but threw him out,” Chris said out loud to the floorboards. “What kind of an asshole have I become? A really, fucking stupid one.”
He looked at his hands, at the hand that had held Vin’s. He could still feel him, feel his warmth next to him, smell him in the air. And now he was gone, as if he’d never been there at all. A thousand images flashed across Chris’s mind. Vin smiling, laughing, teasing him, helping him bale hay in the barn without a shirt on, quietly keeping him in line when he needed it, communicating more with his eyes than Ezra ever could with words, lying in a hospital bed when he’d been shot, helping him change a flat. He’d been the first one Chris had called that night, in the rain, in the middle of nowhere. Not Buck, but Vin. And Vin had showed up, with a jack and a flashlight, and a six pack. They’d ended up sitting in the bed of his truck in the pouring rain, drinking and laughing, talking about everything and nothing. And it was perfect.
He had Vin’s Harley in his garage, his horse in the corral, his clothes in the bedroom. A jacket in the hall Vin forgot the last time he spent the night. The Indian sculpture on the mantle Vin had bought him last Christmas. Vin’s beer in his fridge. Vin’s laughter in his head.
He felt more comfortable around Vin than anyone. He felt better with Vin than anyone. Vin was always there. Vin was his backup, his partner, his closest friend, his confidante, his soul mate. Holy shit. Vin was his soul mate. He’d never thought about it like that before. Vin was one of the bravest, kindest, most generous people he’d ever known, one of the best men he was ever likely too, and had just offered him the greatest gift he could possibly offer. Himself.
And he’d said it in the most poetic declaration of love Larabee had ever heard. You’re the only truth I know.
“Oh my God.” His head came up and his heart plummeted into his stomach. “I can’t lose that. I can’t lose him. Shit. What the fuck do I do now? And he’s gone. He’s out there probably beating himself to shit, and driving drunk. Goddamnit!”
Chris leapt up from the couch and ran into the bedroom to find his shoes.+ + + + + + +
Vin let the cold night air whip him into semi-sobriety as he sped back to his apartment. Stupid, stupid, stupid! How could he be that stupid? How could he ever dream that someone like Chris would want him? No one ever had. He wasn’t worth it, and he knew it. Knew better to reach for things he wasn’t allowed to touch. Knew better than to hope for things that could never be.
“Goddamnit!’ He slammed his hand down on the steering wheel and fought to keep the tears in his eyes from falling down his face. “Chris can’t say it cause he doesn’t mean it. He doesn’t love you. He said so himself. So quit whining. It’s not like ya expected him to.” Oh, but he’d hoped, more than he’d dared ever let himself hope before. Vin could see it now, back at the office. Chris would avoid him like the goddamn plague. Or worse, he’d tell Buck. Then Vin’s life would truly be over. He wasn’t prepared to deal with the flak that would come from everyone in the office, the men he’d grown to call brothers, calling him a fag behind his back.
“But that’s what you are, Tanner. A stupid, fucking fag. Y’always have been. Even got all dolled up like a pretty little fag. Fuck!” He punched his dash board, decided that felt pretty good, and punched it again, ignoring the blood already on his knuckles.
It wouldn’t take him long to pack. And then he’d be gone. He’d just left behind everything that meant anything to him. He was good at moving on, starting over. He’d done it enough times in his life he could write a how-to manual. That made him laugh.
A handbook on how to get rejected, get laughed at, and move on. At least Chris didn’t pretend to love him and use him for sex. Vin could write a handbook on that too.
He slammed his jeep into park, at an rakish angle, and ran up the stairs to his apartment. Throwing open his door, he didn’t even bother to shut it, inviting whatever criminal might have the inclination to barge right in. A gunfight would make him feel better. Hell, getting killed would feel better. Then he wouldn’t have to feel anymore.
He only had one suit case and he began to fill it, haphazardly tossing things more at it than into it. He didn’t notice the tears streaming down his face, neither did he notice when someone did enter his apartment and stood in the doorway to his bedroom, watching the frenzied spectacle.
Chris had driven like mad, feeling like a drunken incarnation of the bat out of Hades, to arrive at Vin’s apartment in record time. He was afraid Vin had already left when he found the door wide open. Then he heard the slight commotion from the bedroom, and was now frozen in the doorway, not knowing what to say.
“You shouldn’t leave your door open, pard. I coulda been anyone.” He knew how caustic it sounded, but he couldn’t take the words back now. Nor could he take back the words at the ranch. The best he could hope was to replace them with a thousand terms of endearment.
Vin jumped at the sound of his voice, but didn’t turn around. “You offering to shoot me? Go right ahead.” He kept on packing, stuffing uncooperative items into the suit case with brute force.
Chris swiftly crossed the distance between them, and grabbed Vin’s left wrist. “You’re not leaving.”
Vin spun around and landed a solid right cross on Chris’s jaw. Chris staggered, let go, and fell backwards onto the carpet, nearly blacking out. He heard Vin yelling at him.
“And just who the fuck do you think you are to tell me what I can do with my life, Larabee!” Vin stood there, fists clenched at his sides, chest heaving with anger. But it quickly faded and turned to remorse when he saw the blood on Chris’s jaw.
Chris was still too dazed to speak as Vin knelt beside him. “Oh Christ, Chris, I’m sorry. Oh Jesus. Let me call Nathan.”
“No. No, I’m ok. That’s a hell of a swing ya got there.” Chris pushed himself into a sitting position and shook his head. As his vision cleared, he took in Vin’s tear streaked face and gasped. “Oh Jesus, Vin.” He lifted a hand and let his fingers wipe the tears from his cheeks and chin.
Vin found himself mimicking the gesture, wiping his own blood from Chris’s jaw. “I had no right to hit you Chris. I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes and his hand fell back to his side.
“No, I’m sorry. I’m an asshole of the first water. I’ve been stupid and blind.”
Vin shook his head and stood up, offering a helping hand to his friend on the floor. Chris took it, but didn’t let go once he got to his feet. He held on until Vin’s eyes finally met his. “When I said you’re not leaving, I meant I don’t want you to. You may absolutely hate me, but I want you to stay. At least stay here, on the team.”
Vin sighed explosively and tugged his hand free. “I don’t want to stay if things’ll be weird. I shoulda never said what I said. I was drunk and stupid and I take it back. I don’t know what I was thinkin’.” Vin hoped to God he sounded sincere. He walked back to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, looking into his suit case.
“Don’t take it back, Vin.” Chris approached warily, keeping his voice low and even. “It wasn’t the alcohol, and we both know that. But it was a lot to lay in a man’s lap all at once. You gotta at least gimmie a minute to digest it all.” He saw Vin’s shoulders slump and he slowed himself down. It’s not his fault, Larabee. No use making it sound like it was.
“I never knew, Vin. I never knew you felt … what you said you felt. Hell, I didn’t know what I was feeling until you made me take stock of it. I guess I got used to you always being there.”
“Yeah,” Vin admitted ruefully, “I’m easy to overlook.” He started pulling things out of his bag and hurling them in the direction of his closet.
“No, Vin, that’s not what I meant. Would you stop a second?” Chris picked up the entire suit case and dropped it on the floor at the foot of the bed. Running a rough hand through his hair, he moved to sit down on the bed, close to Vin, but far enough away to give him some space. Jumpy sharpshooter would run if crowded, and Chris knew he was in danger of seeing a blue blur zipping out the door if he wasn’t careful. “Look at me. Please?”
Chris wondered if maybe that was a misguided request, because those stunning blue eyes locked onto his, and nearly overwhelmed him with the emotion they contained. Sorrow and regret and self-condemnation. And defeat.
“Oh God, Vin, don’t give up on me yet. Don’t give up on us.” He held Vin’s gaze, swallowing against his own remorse and nervous anxiety. “You know I’m a hard-headed jackass. You see to the heart of things much better and much clearer than I ever will, and I didn’t know my own heart until you showed it to me.”
During the frantic drive to Purgatorio, it had donned on him, more like clobbered him. He loved Vin and hadn’t even realized it. It wasn’t the weak in the knees, harps and choirs and fireworks kind of love that poets write sonnets about. It was the sturdy, solid, build a lifetime on, forever kind of love. Love that keeps getting warmer and closer and deeper. Love that you don’t notice until it’s snatched out from under you, threatened to be taken away. Chris was staring right at it, and had never seen it until now. Vin was always there, they were almost always together, and he had taken it for granted that they always would be. He had taken Vin for granted. And the thought of losing him was more terrifying than anything he could name.
Everything he’d come to admire or respect in himself was because of this sassy sharp-shooter who’d strolled into his life a year ago, accomplishing in one of his smiles what Buck hadn’t managed to do in all the years since his wife’s death. Everything he’d grown to love was Vin.
Vin sat there speechless, wondering if he wasn’t dreaming, if Chris wasn’t just saying the words out of pity. He hoped he was hearing what Chris was saying, hoped this wasn’t a blissful hallucination. Would it be so bad if it were?
“By the way, nice parking job out there, pard.” Chris said, at last, to break a little of the stifling tension in the room. He was afraid of what Vin was thinking; he didn’t seem to be breathing.
One corner of Vin’s mouth twitched into a wary grin. “That way I figger no one’ll park next to my baby, and they won’t scratch him.”
Chris snorted. That hunk of metal had more scratches on it than they could count. “Your baby? Possessive are you?” He was no longer speaking about the jeep. Vin knew it, and he nodded. “Not likely to trade him in when he pisses you off?”
“He pisses me off regular, but I ain’t one to up and git rid of him when he acts up.”
“Don’t mind all his quirks and moods and obvious flaws?”
“Ain’t flaws. They’re character.”
Chris had to snort at that. “You reckon he’s worth the trouble then?”
“Reckon.”
There was a long, laden pause, as the two men faced one another and found wordless apology in each other’s eyes. And something else. Hope.
“I’m sorry, Vin.” Chris needed to say it. “I’m not real good at this. I know that’s an understatement,” he added, seeing the flash of amusement on Vin’s face. “I haven’t been with anyone since Sarah, not really. Not seriously.”
“Mary Travis?”
Chris sighed and looked a little wistful. “No. I mean, she’s kind, and thoughtful, and very easy on the eyes. But she isn’t you.” Vin laughed out loud at that, and Chris realized what he’s just said. “Oh fuck it, you know what I meant. It’s just like me to say the absolute wrong thing at a time like this. I’ll have you know she’s also pushy, nosy, and talks more than any five people. And that certainly isn’t you. I never really understood why I wasn’t more attracted to her. Guess I didn’t want anyone to replace Sarah.”
Vin nodded sadly. “I understand, Chris.” He figured that this was going to be the part of the conversation where Chris tried to let him down easy. He should be grateful for the courtesy.
“No, I don’t think you do.” Larabee reached out and quietly took Vin’s hand in his, the same hand he’d held earlier that evening. It seemed ages ago in a different world. “I didn’t understand why until now. Most people don’t get a chance at this once, much less twice. You may not think I see you, but I do. I’m already committed. Like you’ve been with me all along just waiting for me to open my eyes. You don’t know how many times a day I think of you and smile.”
“Really?” Vin’s voice was no more than a whisper, like the swish of Chris’s sock feet on his hardwood floors.
“Really.” Chris nodded slowly and smiled. “You wanna know why I was smiling at dinner, when you asked? I had been checking out your ass and was thinking about you spending the night.”
A hot blush swept across Tanner’s face, and he ducked his head. Chris was grinning from ear to ear. He’d seen Vin shy around women, and found it adorable, but Vin was never shy around him. “God, you’re beautiful like that.” How had he never found the nerve to say this before? Was it the alcohol? Vin made a small, constricted sound and tried to pull away. “No, no, I’m serious.”
“I ain’t a girl.”
“I’m very much aware of that, pard. I’ve seen you without a shirt on.” He arched a blonde brow for emphasis. “But this shirt,” he leaned closer and drew his free hand down Vin’s arm. When he spoke again, his words were hushed with wonder, like a kid in Disneyland. “I’ve been wanting to touch you all evening. What is this stuff? It’s like tiny velvet.”
Vin smiled. “Ask Ezra. I think it’s like silk. Though I like the sound of tiny velvet.” He liked the sound of Chris wanting to touch him even more.
“Ezra? You’re letting Ezra pick your clothes? Does he know why?” Chris’s eyes widened at the thought of Vin being that open about any sort of romantic pursuit. “Did he pick out these jeans? Which by the way, I’d love to know how you got into. Can you breathe?”
Vin cocked his head and let a lazy grin fall on his lips. The jeans were evidently worth the discomfort. “No, Ez doesn’t know. I’s just tryin’ ta catch yer eye. ‘Sides, yer one to talk about tight jeans.” Chris thought about it, and nodded, conceding defeat. Everyone gave him a hard time about wearing jeans that looked to be two sizes too small.
“Well, you were right. Certainly caught my eye, as did the shirt. You should wear blue more often.” Once again, Chris was held captive by Vin’s astonishing blue eyes, almost indigo in the soft light. He let his hand run up Vin’s arm to his face and touched his cheek, fleetingly, before moving his fingers behind to the tie around Vin’s hair. He undid it, and pulled it away, unleashing the wild profusion of curls it had trapped all evening. “Was this Ezra’s idea too,” he inquired, dangling the leather thong between his fingers.
“Nah. That was mine.”
Chris really didn’t care. He was too busy letting his fingers thread through the silken coils. “God, it’s so soft. You should wear your hair down all the time.”
Vin looked at their hands again and tried not to think about Chris’s fingers in his hair. Just that simple touch was more intoxicating that anything he’d had to drink that night. “Soft is … Ezra’s fault. He made me put … all this stuff in it and …”
Vin’s nervous words were effectively silenced as Chris slid his hand to the nape of Vin’s neck and drew him forward into a kiss. Hardly more than a brush of warm flesh, skin ghosting across skin. Chris drew back slowly and opened his eyes to find Vin’s still closed, gold lashes resting on flushed cheeks. His lips were still slightly parted and Chris could feel his warm breath on his face. Vin still tasted of alcohol, but there was a lingering sweetness and an echo of something that smelled like the sea, fresh and clean. God, how had he missed this …
Chris’s fingers seemed to float along Vin’s face, like butterfly wings dancing on his skin, as he caressed the smooth line of the jaw and high cheekbones. It was as if he were blind and learning Vin’s countenance by touch alone. His lips followed his fingers, placing feather light kisses wherever he went, breathing deeply the scent he knew so well and had never noticed. It was amazing and wondrous, this sensation, this line he’d crossed between them, like Columbus discovering the new world.
Vin felt he was falling, not sinking or plummeting, but drifting to and fro like a leaf in the breeze, weightless and limbless, helpless in Chris’s hands. He couldn’t open his eyes, afraid to discover this was all an alcohol-induced dream. So many dreams he’d had of this man, none he’d ever dared speak, too fragile even for words. And here, he felt the fragile one. Humorous since the majority of his dreams never involved anything as tender as this. He had always imagined Chris would take him hard and fierce, asserting his dominance, leaving no room for refusal. Vin never expected Chris to be so timid.
It wasn’t timidity; it was awe.
“You have pointy ears.” Chris knew he sounded stupid, but he didn’t care. He was grinning inanely as his fingers traced the shell of one elfin ear. He loved it. Vin’s eyes came open, wide, and he looked like a wild creature startled from a nap. Chris tilted his head in question. “What?”
“I hate my ears.”
Larabee let him know exactly what he thought of that silly declaration as he captured the lobe of the despised ear between his teeth and teased it with his tongue. Vin felt that liquid fire had just been injected straight into his groin, and he couldn’t stop himself from moaning. Someone’s low chuckle rumbled through his brain.
“I like your ears just fine,” Chris said in a whiskey-rough whisper, laughter in his throat. He steadfastly refrained from telling Vin that he thought they were cute, very cute. Cute is never a word that a man wants ascribed to any part of his anatomy. Chris pulled back and regarded Vin with the same boyish grin he hadn’t yet wiped off his face. But Vin still looked sad.
“I’m sorry I hit you. You’re jaw is swelling.”
Chris had forgotten all about his jaw, but obviously Vin still needed to. “It’s not the only thing that’s swelling,” he said impishly, then feeling his own face flush red at having admitted, out loud, that his best friend was giving him a hard on. Apparently it was the right thing to say, because Vin no longer looked sheepish, or sorry, or sad. He looked suddenly delighted.
He looked downright fiendish.
Vin used the collar of Chris’s shirt to guide him into another kiss, much more confident and assertive than the one he’d been given, no longer feeling that he was falling, but knowing had landed on solid ground. Ground he was dying to explore. He slid his other hand to Chris’s jaw, holding it, reassuring it, as their lips moved in a slow, sensual open-mouthed kiss. Chris was running his hands along Vin’s arms, not pulling, not pushing back, just feeling. It was all feeling. His senses were inundated with the smell and feel and taste of the man, and he wanted more. When Vin began to lick at the divot in his lower lip, Chris met him there, his tongue eager to deepen the kiss, to deepen the sensation. Soon he was dueling with him for control of the embrace, tongues sliding slick and hot, reaching further, tasting more. Hands moved from arms to hair, getting lost and tangled, heads tilting, jaws opening, small moans coming from their joined mouths.
Chris had no idea when he ended up on his back, or when his shirt was tugged free of his jeans, but he was suddenly very aware of Vin’s hands on his stomach and he gasped. Vin broke the kiss that hadn’t yet ended and looked down upon the blonde lying surprised and breathless on his bed. His lips shone swollen and wet and Vin traced then with his thumb.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” Wanted, needed, prayed for.
“No, I don’t,” Chris managed, trying to regain control of his breathing. “I didn’t even know I did.” He did want it, badly, even though he didn’t know how to ask for it, how to name it. He couldn’t think of the last time he didn’t know what he wanted or how to get it. He was always in control, decisive and aggressive, but experience being aggressive in bed had never before included a man. It must have shown on his face.
Vin studied him closely and then took his hand out from beneath his shirt. “Sorry if I’m rushin’ things. Ya know me, Chris, I tend ta go for the kill shot.” Chris just blinked. “If’n yer not ready for this, say so.”
“Yes. No.” Chris didn’t know what question he was answering, the ones in his head, such as whether or not he would prefer to take off his own clothes or have Vin remove them, or if he was supposed to tell Vin whether or not he was ready. His body felt ready. He was aroused past any level of comfort and all they’d done was kiss, but he had no idea where to go from here. Well, he had an inkling, but … “Vin, I have no idea what I’m doing.” He meant that on so many levels.
Curly brown hair shook around Vin’s face as he chuckled softly, kindly. “Well, don’t let that stop ya, cowboy. We just make this up as we go along. But if ya need any hints …” Vin let his left hand graze the prominent bulge in Chris’s groin, eliciting a sharp gasp from the blonde, and then a moan as the pressure increased.
Enough with taking things slow. Chris’s mind made itself up very quickly even as the power to process thought fled, and he heard himself growl the command, “Take your clothes off. Or I will.”
Again Vin chuckled. “Yes, sir.” He scooted to the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots and socks, before standing, all shyness departed, and unbuttoning his shirt. He let the lovely blue fabric with the impossible name hang just off his shoulders, exposing his perfectly sculpted torso, as his fingers hovered at his trim waistline and began to work on his fly. Chris, who had propped himself on his elbows to watch, his knees bent over the edge of the mattress, rose swiftly on his feet and pressed himself up against the glorious body of the sharpshooter, taking hold of his waistband and dismissing his fingers. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol, but Vin appeared to glow even in the dim light. Chris devoured Vin’s mouth as his fingers worked to free the younger man from the confines of those unfeasibly tight jeans.
Both men drew breath as Vin’s erection popped free, and Larabee shoved the jeans down his slim hips. He followed them, kneeling on the floor before his soon to be lover, reveling in the sight of the thick shaft standing full and proud, and the heady masculine scent of arousal filling the air.
“You dazzle me,” he whispered, falling back on his heels as if in worship. Chris didn’t think he had ever seen anything as blatantly erotic as the sight before him – Vin’s shirt open and draped around his shoulders, his jeans pooled around his ankles. He didn’t even let Vin step out of them. Chris’s hands rose of their own volition to touch Vin’s cock, to stroke its silky heated length, and encircle the flushed crown, already leaking with precum. He used one thumb to smear the white fluid around the tip of the swollen head, delighting in the unharnessed groans of pleasure this educed. Pleasure he knew he wanted to give again and again. It was wildly exciting and wholly terrifying.
Chris was giddy, drunk more with arousal than whiskey, completely overwhelmed by the man before him. Uncharted territory didn’t even begin to describe it, but Chris was no longer feeling uncertain or inhibited. He knew exactly what Vin wanted, what he would want, what any man would want at this point.
Vin swore aloud when he felt Chris’s tongue dip into the slit at the head of his cock and lave slow circles all around the head. Chris savored the taste, slightly bland, slightly salty – utterly decadent. He placed one hand on the curve of Vin’s hip, and used the other to continue stroking Vin’s cock, even as he took more and more of it into his mouth. Lack of knowledge in giving blow jobs didn’t mean lack of knowledge in getting them, and his mind spoke of all the things he liked having done to him. He opened his jaw as wide as he could and swallowed Vin almost to the hilt, gagging a little as Vin nearly impaled him with a sudden jerk of his hips and a cry of pleasure. Chris worked his tongue along the pulsing vein beneath, rubbing it all the way from base to head, and he moved his hand to explore Vin’s balls, holding them, squeezing them a little, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger.
Vin’s hands were clenched at his sides, all his will power exerted against grabbing a fistful of blonde hair and thrusting himself hard into Chris’s mouth, so wet, so willing. So eager to please. Soft smacking sounds drifted into his addled mind and he knew if he dared open his eyes and look at Chris he would explode without warning. His legs were trembling and threatening to buckle.
“God, Chris, I’m close. Holy shit. Don’t stop.” He whimpered as Chris increased speed, his lips and tongue creating a delirious rhythm that had him panting for air. Then he felt it, the lightning in his spine, growing in intensity, shooting into his groin and he moved a hand to Chris’s face in gentle warning, “Fuck, Chris … oh my God … I’m gonna cum …”, but Chris didn’t retreat. Vin couldn’t help grasping a handful of hair, couldn’t keep from thrusting.
Chris felt the stream of thick fluid hit the back of his tongue and kept sucking, trying to swallow all he could. He chocked a little as Vin’s cock pulsed and thrust in his mouth, but he continued to milk him and lick him until he felt Vin begin to soften. Vin was gasping and his knees felt ready to give at any second. He didn’t think he could move except to fall. Chris rose, working the tied muscles of his jaw, wiping the excess cum off his chin, grinning at his accomplishment and at the totally useless state of the man before him. He drew his arms around Vin’s back and held him there, kissing and playfully nipping his neck.
“Jesus, Chris. Sorry if I …”
“No apologies, Vin. I enjoyed it.” He continued his ministrations to Vin’s throat, realizing there was so much of the man he had yet to taste.
“You enjoyed it? Shit. For a man who doesn’t know what he’s doin’, ya sure catch on quick.”
Chris peeked up from Vin’s neck. “Well, somebody had to do somethin’. You sure weren’t getting us anywhere. I’m still dressed.”
Vin slanted an evil glare at him. “Smart ass cowboy. I kin fix that right quick.” He grabbed the back of Chris’s shirt in both fists as if to tear it in half, and Chris quickly backed up and raised his arms so Vin could lift it off his head in stead. Vin tried to step forward, to yank his lover back to him, but could only half shuffle with his pants still around his ankles.
Chris just grinned and slowly backed to the bed, watching Vin try to toe his way out of his pants. He stared with unmasked adoration as Vin finally let the blue aphrodisiac shirt fall to the floor. “God, Vin,” he uttered as his eyelids drooped heavily. He thought those two words belonged together, more like a title than an exclamation. Vin looked divine. Chris sat down and began taking off his shoes and undoing his own pants, but when Vin disappeared into the bathroom, his hands faltered in their task. Vin was going to go find a condom, he was certain. This he didn’t feel ready for. Not for lack of want. His body was screaming for release, but he had been completely happy to provide that for Vin. Why pick now to be nervous?
Because this wasn’t just sex. And they hadn’t even begun to discuss the ramifications.
His stomach was gurgling and dancing about, and Chris thought his heart was palpitating. He had no idea how to make love to a man. And how many lovers had Vin had? He didn’t even know Tanner was gay. Shit, did that make him gay? Forty years of being heterosexual left Larabee completely unprepared to deal with the implications, much less the practical applications, of being in bed with a man. And not just any man. He wasn’t ready to face the prospect that he might be a shattering disappointment to his best friend. His best friend who loved him.+ + + + + + +
Vin stood before his bathroom mirror looking at a face he hardly recognized. His cheeks hurt from smiling. He wanted to dance about in the nude, climb to his rooftop and shout his love to the world. Chris’s whole face had shone with love. Love for me! Yay! And want. Want was awfully nice. Never in his wildest dreams had he expected Chris to drop to his knees and suck him off. Well, in his wildest dreams, yes, but not this evening, not first thing. His head was spinning and his fingers were hardly coordinated enough to open the packet of condoms and fish out the lube from the counter drawer. He used to keep these things in his bedside table. That was before Chris. He’d had men since joining the team, but they meant nothing, less than nothing, and he was sure the feeling was mutual. Those encounters only left him feeling empty, cold, worthless. They way he’d felt most of his life. Not the way this would feel, the way this already felt. Chris had come to him, had kissed him. Vin wanted to laugh out loud for pure joy.
Chris lay back against the headboard, folding aside the covers, lifting his hips to slide his jeans and boxers over his hips. He could hear Vin open and closing a drawer in the bathroom. He’d be back any second and then Chris would be expected to perform. Christ, what if he couldn’t do it? It was like he was a virgin all over again, which technically he was in this scenario. Chris felt himself begin to soften and he cursed under his breath.
You can’t back out now, Larabee. Get a grip. You can just pretend he’s someone else if it helps. Fuck! What the fuck are you saying!? You can’t do that, you asshole. Oh my God, what if I can’t do this?
What if he was too drunk … what if he was too worried …
Vin reappeared, condom and lube in hand, and stopped at the doorway drinking in the breathtaking sight of Chris sprawled out on his bed, naked and waiting. But the murmur in the atmosphere told him not everything was as it should be, and Vin couldn’t help but notice that Chris was only at half mast.
He’s nervous. What if he’s havin’ second thoughts? Shit, Tanner, what’d you expect? Man’s been straight his whole life and you expect him to up and nail you through the bedboard yer first night together. Give it a minute and you can fuck him through the bedboard. No. Shit. This has to be his call. Ain’t it always? Take this at his pace.
Vin swallowed all his thoughts and walked purposefully toward the bed, depositing his loot on the side table. Then he leaned over and placed a kiss on the top of Larabee’s blonde head, and told him to scoot over. Chris obliged, sliding over and lying down, and Vin crawled into bed next to him, pulling the covers up over them and snuggling next to the man. His own fears were assuaged when Chris wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close.
Holding he could do. Chris wanted to hold him, to be held, to keep him close and safe, and his. He wanted to stake his claim but felt dreadfully ill-equipped to do so. Placing his mouth on Vin’s forehead and kissing him in between words, he spoke softly, trying to calm himself, perhaps talk himself into whatever Vin wanted of him.
“I’m sorry I lied to you earlier.” He felt Vin stiffen almost to the point of recoiling, and held him tighter. “I said I couldn’t tell you I loved you. That’s a lie, cause I can and I do. I didn’t really know it ‘til I was driving out here. I didn’t realize how much you mean to me until I thought of trying to live without you. I was so afraid of losing you. So afraid, Vin. And then I got here and your door was left open and I thought you’d gone. Don’t you ever do that. I’m not letting you go.”
Vin ‘s heart leapt and he wanted to pounce on the man, but he stayed quiet. “You don’t see me strugglin’ too much do ya?” Vin was tracing delicate, wandering patterns with his fingers on Chris’s chest, memorizing the lines of his collarbones, the definition of his pectorals. As Chris kept speaking, he let his hand amble down to map the ridges of Chris’s taut abs, not as washboard as his own he thought with a smug smile. “I heard what ya said earlier. This is a lot to lay in yer lap, much as I’d like to lay in yer lap,” he added with a snicker.
Chris answered with a chuckle of his own, but his words were double-edged and serious. “I’ll do anything to convince you, to prove it to you.”
Vin tipped his head back a little and looked Chris in the eyes. “Reckon that’s proof enough, pard. I ain’t askin’ ya to do ‘nything ya ain’t ready for. Jess cause I’ve been thinkin’ about this for a year don’t mean I expect ya to be as excited about it.”
Chris kept himself from groaning at Vin’s ridiculous words. Excited wasn’t the problem. Nervous as all hell, was. He swallowed hard, but couldn’t find anything to say in response. He knew that silence would be worse and wondered if he shouldn’t suggest Vin get him more drunk and just take advantage of him. Actually, that sounded like fun. What Vin was already doing to him, just touching him, felt like heaven. Chris laughed at himself and wrapped his other arm around Vin, squeezing tight. Vin buried his face in the crook between shoulder and neck and let out a slow, warm sigh of air.
When he finally resigned himself to the fact that Chris was far from ready to do anything except hold him, he stopped the movement of his hand, and settled down to go to sleep. Spending the night in the man’s arms would be far from disappointing. But Chris surprised him.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Vin wondered what he was doing that Chris didn’t want.
“Don’t stop doing that. That feels good.”
“This?” Vin let his idle hand reacquaint itself with the contours of Chris’s body, and Chris nodded against his head.
“That.”
Chris allowed himself to relax under Vin’s gentle caress. It was mesmerizing, the soothing touches, the tiny kisses Vin was placing on his neck. Vin was nuzzling him, his lips sparking little jolts of fire everywhere they paused, and his calloused fingers circling slowly down his body. Chris felt his cock begin to stir and lift. He could do this forever, and he wasn’t doing anything.
Vin tried to keep his hand steady, his touch light. He let his fingers brush casually over one nipple and felt Chris suck in a breath of air, his chest rising beneath Vin’s cheek. He returned to the nipple, greedily enjoying the feel of it pucker and rise beneath his finger tips.
Good.
Vin tilted his head and drew one earlobe into his mouth, pulling on it, then tracing the ear with his tongue. “Will ya let me touch ya?”
Chris heard himself thinking, You already do, Vin, all the time. God I’m an emotional sap. “Yeah,” he breathed against Vin’s hair, and almost whimpered when long fingers grazed his cock. It sprang to life abruptly and Chris found himself lifting his hips, searching for the lost sensation. Vin willingly returned it, humming happily at the feeling of Chris’s manhood harden fully at his touch. As with the rest of his body, it was perfect, perfectly long and thick and curved just a little. Vin made a circle with his thumb and forefinger, very excited when they wouldn’t fit all the way around the shaft, which he started to stroke slowly from base to head. He used two fingers to swipe along the head, stealing the sticky droplets of precum and wiping them around. Chris tried not to moan, but his stuttered breathing gave him away.
Vin began kissing him avidly now, every inch of exposed neck and shoulder, using his lips to pull at the skin, his tongue to moisten it before biting down as his hand found the soft sacs beneath Chris’s cock. Chris did moan then, unable to stop himself, wondering why he was trying to. Vin moved one finger to that brilliantly sensitive patch of skin behind the testicles, applying a little pressure, and then swooping back up to stroke the weeping cock with his whole hand. He rotated his wrist so he was stroking him in half circles as he went up and down, and Chris began to thrust his hips in time with the motion.
God, Vin was going to kill him. Between his mouth and hand, Vin was going to drive him insane, which maybe wasn’t such a bad thing after all. His body wanted more insanity. “I want your mouth.” Vin raised his head inquisitively at Chris’s husky request. “On me. I want you to suck me.”
With alarming speed, Vin was away from his neck and down his body, flinging away the covers to stare at the long-desired object of his attentions and fantasies. He didn’t stop to tease, sinking his mouth down Chris’s cock in one slow, complete motion that brought Chris’s hips up off the bed entirely. “Oh Christ … Vin … Goddamn …”
It didn’t take long. Vin was too good at this. He knew it, and Chris discovered it rapidly. Vin relaxed his throat and took Chris to the hilt, then back, swirling his tongue around the head, and then back down, sharply, meeting Chris’s sudden thrust. His finger pressed into the pleasure spot behind Chris’s balls and he hummed around a wet mouthful of engorged flesh, and Chris was shooting down his throat, grunting and moaning a nonsense cry. Vin swallowed every drop, and continued to suckle him until he heard Chris whimper. Slowly, he let the sensitive, softened flesh slip from his mouth with a small slurp, but remained with his head in Chris’s lap, just as he’d joked earlier. His hand lazily fondled the crest of hipbone and wandered across the fluttering stomach, pausing to play in the slightly moist curls around the spent cock.
Chris lay there, sleepily sated, idly curling his lax fingers in Vin’s hair. He hadn’t cum that hard in years. He silenced that little alarm bells ringing in his head that told him he should be much more concerned that his best friend had just sucked him off, but he wouldn’t have let anyone else do it. There wasn’t one woman he could name that he’d let get this close to him. Might as well be Vin. No. Nobody else but Vin. Why they hadn’t done this sooner was but a fleeting regret on the horizon of his sluggish thoughts. But he didn’t want to fall asleep with Vin lying on his hip, so he tugged a little. “C’mere.”
Vin crawled his way up Larabee’s body, purposefully dragging his newly erect penis along thigh and hip. Chris quirked a brow and slipped a hand between them, muttering, “Ah, the recovery time of youth.” He pulled Vin into a deep kiss while stroking him deftly with the other hand.
Vin groaned and jerked into the touch, knowing this second release wouldn’t take much to achieve, not as over-stimulated as he was already. Chris was thrusting his tongue in and out of his mouth, and Vin quickly lost himself to the dual stimulation, pushed over the edge with a shudder. Chris felt the hot liquid spurt across his stomach and into his hand as Vin bit down on his lip and quivered. Vin’s body went very tense and then limp, and he collapsed down onto his lover, breathing shakily. Chris didn’t know what to do with his sticky hand, so he just wiped it on the sheets and then lay it possessively on Vin’s bare bottom. It fit oh so nicely there. It belonged there. Vin belonged there, in his arms. Scary, when he considered how far and how fast he’d fallen once he just let go.
Vin eventually slid to one side, feeling the slipperiness between then, and cracked open an eye to look at his blonde deity of a lover. Hazel eyes were closed, breathing was slow and deep, a small smile of content as spread on his full lips. Lips that had been kissed red. Vin began to ease himself out of bed, and Chris’s forehead crinkled, his arms keeping Vin from leaving. “Where you goin’?”
“Get us cleaned up, cowboy. Be right back.”
Chris frowned deeper and pursed his lips, demanding a kiss before he’d let Vin leave. Vin chuckled and gave in. “Lazy bastard.”
Chris made a small noise like a grunt and smacked Vin on the ass. Vin grinned, knowing that his lover had no idea what a turn on that was, and slid out of bed. He returned shortly with a warm washcloth and cleaned them both, Chris stretching indolently as his belly was washed. Vin just shook his head, secretly thrilled that he was the reason Chris looked that satisfied.
“You comin’ back to bed or what?”
“You always this bossy?” Vin tossed the washcloth somewhere over his shoulder. “Wait, that’s a rhetorical question ain’t it?”
Chris snorted. “You are spending way too much time ‘round Ezra. Get in here.”
“Yes sir.” As Vin climbed in, Chris pulled the comforter around his shoulders, and sighed happily when a curly, brown head was laid on his shoulder. He was already drifting off when he heard Vin’s quiet drawl.
“Chris?”
“Mmmmm.” It was much more a grunt than an actual response.
“You really like my ears?”
Chris had to process that for a moment. “I had your cock in my mouth and you’re worried about your ears? They’re cute.”
“Cute?”
“Shut up and go to sleep, Tanner.”
“Love you too, Larabee.”
Chris just grunted again and wrapped his arms around the smaller man. Vin smiled into his bare shoulder. He reckoned it couldn’t get any better than this.
Or at least not until he introduced Chris to his prostate. Oh yeah. Better it would be. But he could wait.
He’d waited his entire life for this. This was true.THE END
(until the next time …)
I won’t talk
I won’t breathe
Til you finally see that you belong with me
You might think I don’t look
But deep inside the corner of my mind
I’m attached to you
I’m weak, it’s true
Cause I’m afraid to know the answer
Do you want me too
Cause my heart keeps falling faster
I’ve waited all my life to cross this line
To the only thing that’s true
So I will not hide
It’s time to try anything to be with you
All my life I’ve waited
This is true
You don’t know what you do
Every time you walk into the room
I’m afraid to move
I’m weak, it’s true
I’m just scared to know the ending
Do you see me too
Do you even know you met me
I’ve waited all my life to cross this line
To the only thing that’s true
So I will not hide
It’s time to try anything to be with you
All my life I’ve waited
This is true
I know when I go, I’ll be on my way to you
The way that’s true
I’ve waited all my life to cross this line
To the only thing that’s true
So I will not hide
It’s time to try anything to be with you
All my life I’ve waited
This is true“True” – Ryan Cabrera