They were all sitting around the campfire, just one more day's ride from town. The night was balmy and as calm as their ride that day had been. Someone had started this conversation — most likely Buck, though, Chris couldn't remember for certain — and each in turn had responded, less inhibited once a reluctant Ezra had been persuaded to share his flagon of brandy and undoubtedly feeling safe in the flickering light and shadow of the fire.It was now JD's turn. "Tell us about your first time, kid," someone had asked him.
Chris already knew this tale. JD had just come west, seen his first gun fight, and then pushed his way into this group of men that Chris had gathered to protect a village of Seminole Indians.
"You're not the type," he remembered telling the kid, and he'd meant it in so many ways. But JD had come out of the ordeal unharmed, at least physically. Though, perhaps, that was only because Buck had been foolish enough to protect the kid. Chris remembered their last night in the village. JD had come to him, frustration seeping from every pore.
"Mr. Larabee, has Nathan told you how Buck's doing? Because he won't tell me anything!"
"Nathan's a cautious man," Chris had told the kid. "You tell a family member — or even a friend — something they don't want to hear ... or make what sounds like a promise that you can't keep.... You saw: Nathan was nearly hung because a patient died, even though there wasn't anything anyone could have done. Those men still blamed him, probably because he told them he'd try to help."
"But I wouldn't do anything to Nathan! I'm just worried about Buck."
"I know, kid." Chris didn't say that he was worried too, and he hoped that would be reassuring to JD. "Nathan will tell us when he's sure."
"He won't even let me sit with him."
"Then sit with me." The Seminoles had given Chris one of the adobe structures for the night. The only whole piece of furniture in it was the wood-framed bed on which he sat and a small table. On the table was a guttering tallow candle in an earthenware bowl, a half-empty bottle of whiskey, which Chris had been sipping at since dusk, and a few pieces of aloe vera leaf, split long-ways to expose the succulent contents. Raine had given him the aloe to help heal the raw wounds on his left wrist and hand, sustained while trying to escape from the iron shackles Colonel Anderson's men had used when he and the others had been captured.
At his invitation, JD joined Chris and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Whiskey?"
JD refused the offer. "Drank too much the other night." It had been after their first battle against Anderson. The kid had been so shaken that he couldn't stop drinking. He'd paid for it that night with a lot of violent retching and again the next morning with an aching head and a delicate stomach.
Chris took a swig from the bottle before setting it aside. "It wasn't like in those dime novels, was it, kid?"
"That's what Buck asked me."
"He ask you if you're going home after this?"
"No. But I reckon he's thinking it, same as the rest of you."
"JD ... I told you before: you're just not the type."
"But I helped! I might not have taken out Anderson, but I shot a few of them others. Plus, I saved Buck's life — twice!" JD fell silent. Both men knew it wouldn't matter how many times JD had saved Buck if Buck ended up dying because he'd stepped in front of Anderson's sword to save JD.
Chris passed the bottle of whiskey and the kid took a slug and then coughed as he swallowed the harsh liquid.
"We're not like the men in those novels," Chris said after JD took another, smaller sip of whiskey.
"I know. People are more complex than characters in a book."
"It's not just that, kid."
"Then what? You each got horns and a tail you haven't told me about?"
Chris smiled. "Nothing that obvious." Deep inside, he knew he'd be sad when this enthusiastic young man finally left and headed back east where he belonged. Before now, the only eager folk that Chris met were the ones who'd heard about his reputation and had come to cement a reputation of their own.
"Then it's the other thing..." JD mumbled against the lip of the whiskey bottle before taking another drink. Chris almost didn't hear him.
"Other thing?"
"I ain't stupid, you know. And even though I ain't never been in a gun fight before this, I ain't naive either."
"What are you talking about?"
"I told you already. That day I followed you all out here. A man comes to you ... because he respects you ... because he'd be proud to work with you ... be with you...." JD recited the words as if they were a speech he'd memorized, a speech he'd probably composed a week ago as he'd shadowed them on horseback to the Seminole's village. "You said I wasn't the type and you sent me away."
"You're not the type, kid. You're damned lucky you didn't get killed out here."
"Like you care. You didn't want me here anyway."
"I didn't want to see you dead! I couldn't let you stay when you didn't understand the risks."
"I understood the risks. Long before I came west."
And, suddenly, Chris knew. For an observant man, he'd been pretty damned blind when it came to JD.
"But you're as green as a south pasture."
JD scoffed. "That's what you think."
Did JD really know what he was getting into? Chris shook his head. "I'm not buying it. You're just a kid."
"I'm older than I look."
"And more experienced?"
"Yeah," though the word didn't sound very confident to Chris's ears.
He nodded his head as he leaned very close to JD. "So, you're telling me that you've done this before?"
"Th-this?" JD shuddered. He brought the whiskey bottle up again to take another drink, but Chris took it from him and set it on the ground. Then he slipped a hand behind JD's head to prevent him from bolting. He was either going to scare the shit out of the kid or....
Chris brought their lips together swiftly, and just as quickly he pulled back, but only far enough to be able to gauge JD's reaction. The kid's dark eyes were wide with shock, but Chris detected neither fear nor revulsion.
"You done that before?" Chris asked quietly.
"No," JD answered, almost breathless. But then JD leaned forward and pressed his lips against Chris's. His hands came up, tightly encircling Chris's waist, as if he were suddenly afraid that Chris might push him away.
It was the furthest thing from Chris's mind.
Chris's own arms slipped around JD, pulling him close, but sitting as they were on the bed put thighs and knees frustratingly in the way. Chris stood, pulling JD up with him, and then they were flush against each other: feet and legs alternating, hips pressed together, though the difference in their heights meant Chris felt JD's erection against his upper thigh and his own stiff prick was pressed low against JD's belly. Chris didn't care. He just wanted the contact with someone who had the same needs for the same reasons.
It was always like this, after surviving some fight; worse when the odds were so bad, as they had been against Anderson and his soldiers. They never should have won; they should all be lying beside Buck and Josiah right now, wounded ... or worse. And the fact that any of them were still breathing was a God-damned miracle. A body needed human contact after something like that, but they were too far from any whorehouse and the Seminoles were still off-limits, despite the victory against Anderson. They had only themselves to look to, only each other.
Chris pushed JD's coat and jacket from his shoulders and then began quick work on the buttons of his vest and shirt. Chris himself wore only a shirt and trousers, though JD seemed oblivious to them, or at least unaware that they needed removing.
JD caressed Chris's lower back with one hand and, occasionally, moved the other hand up as far as Chris's shoulder blades and then down again, the cadence was irregular but the pattern was the same, as if the kid wasn't quite sure what else to do with his hands.
When Chris's fingers finished with JD's buttons and slipped inside to play over the bare skin of JD's chest, the kid gasped in Chris's mouth and stopped moving.
Chris drew back, just far enough to speak. "This is what you wanted — why you came here — isn't it?"
JD trembled a bit, causing his chin to bob slightly. But then he nodded and Chris caught the distinct motion. Chris pressed their lips together again as he pushed JD's shirt and vest off his shoulders and onto the floor.
Chris eased his knee between JD's legs and brushed it gently against his erection. Mindful of JD's youth — and despite his boast of being experienced — Chris was pretty sure it wouldn't take too much to set the young man off. Then again, it wouldn't take too long for him to recover either.
Since JD seemed too distracted, Chris started in on his own shirt. The eight buttons down the front took him no time at all and soon the black material joined JD's pile of garments. Now bare chest to bare chest, Chris took one of JD's hands and placed it against his chest. He placed his own hand on JD and began to tease the kid's nipple. JD gasped, but then seemed to understand quickly that he could make Chris do the same, something that put a bit of a smirk on JD's face. A smirk Chris would have none of.
He slipped his free hand down to JD's pants where he worked the buttons loose. With his thumbs hooked inside the waistband of both trousers and drawers, Chris pushed downward until JD stood with bare hips and ass, his erection now lying free against Chris's thigh.
Chris slipped a hand around the flesh; JD's hips jerked against him, eager for more productive stimulation, but he'd have to wait. Gently, Chris traced the length and contours with his fingertips. JD's prick felt much like JD looked: short but broad and solid. His erection curved slightly along the underside and Chris wondered what it would be like to have that prick pushed against his hole, shoved into him, and thrust deep, wondered what it would be like to be on his hands and knees as JD fucked him from behind. Not that he would find out, at least not tonight. He had other plans.
"Chris!" The voice came from outside the small structure and the identity of its owner was immediately apparent to Chris. Not that there were too many people the voice could belong to here.
Chris tightened his grip on JD's prick and moved them both toward the door. JD's hands came up to Chris's shoulders, but it wasn't evident if it was from a need for balance or from fear of discovery.
"What do you need, Vin?" Chris called out. Though he hadn't known Vin for long, he knew enough to believe Vin would keep his distance until invited to do otherwise. Apparently, JD held no such beliefs and Chris felt the kid's fingers dig into his shoulders when he started idly working over the length of JD's prick to keep him hard.
"Nathan says he's staying," Vin called back, "for as long as Buck and Josiah need him."
Chris continued to stroke JD's erection, wondering what point Vin had.
"Thought I'd head back to town in the morning. Ezra says he's coming with."
"I'm coming," JD said desperately through gritted teeth. He was squinting his eyes in an obvious effort to delay the inevitable.
"What'd you say?" Vin called.
"Said I'm coming, too," Chris spoke up as his hand was slicked with white. "We'll leave just after dawn."
"What about JD? I haven't seen him to ask him."
"He's a bright kid. Bet he already knows what you're planning. Don't worry about it."
"Alright then," Vin said, still no nearer to the hut and probably wondering why in the hell that was. "See you in the morning."
"Night, Vin."
JD slumped against the wall beside the doorway, as if fear of being discovered by Vin had been the only thing keeping him standing.
"What the hell did you do that for?" the kid finally managed to ask.
"Tell him that I'd go with him?" Chris shrugged. The answer was obvious. "I plan to."
"No. Make me ... you know ... with him standing right outside!"
The corner of Chris's mouth quirked up in an amused grin. "Make you come?" he clarified and JD nodded, though his head was down, clearly from embarrassment.
"He could've heard."
"I think he did hear, at least the part where you told him you were coming."
"Didn't tell him! Was telling you!"
"I already knew." Chris moved back across the room, giving JD a little space. If this hadn't been what he'd wanted — or if this was all he wanted — he now had the opportunity to just leave. But when JD continued to just stand there, Chris asked, "I suppose the question now is do you plan on returning the favor."
"Favor? I didn't come here looking for favors. Or for you to make this into a joke." JD crossed the room and got right up in Chris's face, like he had the first day they'd arrived at the village. "I came here because when I saw you in town ... when you faced down all those men to save Nathan...."
"You wanted a piece of me. A souvenir of your trip west."
"No!" JD's declaration sounded both firm and desperate. "It wasn't like that. I admired what you did, respected it, and I wanted you to see that I could be like you. I thought the only way I could do that was to come out here and prove I could fight, prove I was worthy. Never thought you were ... that you'd...."
"But I am. And I did," Chris said quietly. "And if you're not planning on leaving, then I'm not finished."
"I, uh" — the kid swallowed audibly — "I ain't leaving."
Chris took one step and closed the small gap between them. He pressed his lips to JD's and kissed him until he felt the young man's knees tremble. Then he moved them next to the bed.
"You know what I'm going to do to you, don't you?" Chris asked as his hands hovered above his own belt buckle.
JD nodded and Chris noted the same look he'd seen on the kid's face during Anderson's attack: determination not quite completely masking fear of the unknown.
Chris undid the fastenings on his trousers. JD watched, transfixed, as Chris slowly pushed the fabric down his legs. As Chris kicked away the material, he cupped his balls and fingered the base of his erection. He was longer than JD, though maybe a hair narrower. Still, he knew what JD must be thinking and he reminded himself to be careful and to take things slowly.
Chris let JD stare for another few moments as he stroked himself. If the kid was going to bolt, now would be his last chance. But JD stood firm, so Chris closed the distance between them once more. He reached out and took JD's hand, wrapping it around his erection.
"Easy," he said and JD loosened his grip. "There you go." The contact felt good and Chris didn't want to lose it, so he kept his hand over JD's, guiding it up and down the length.
When he appeared to have a rhythm, Chris allowed his hand to slip away, moving it up JD's arm to his shoulder. His other hand was already resting against the small of JD's back, gently caressing the skin just above the firm globes of his ass.
He bent his head and brought his lips against JD's again. JD responded immediately, but when his hand stilled on Chris's prick, Chris mumbled into his mouth, "Don't stop." And when JD resumed, a small shiver raced up Chris's spine. Chris forced himself to deny the urge to rush this. They had the night and, in all likelihood, nothing more.
Slowly, Chris moved his hand down JD's back until his palm was resting over one smooth, round cheek. Chris instantly imagined thrusting against such a tantalizing ass, but then he forced that thought away, too. He'd be coming like a schoolboy if he wasn't careful, but unlike JD, he wasn't likely to recover as quickly.
He slipped his lips away from JD's mouth, to his jaw and then his neck. He heard JD gasp quickly beside his ear, which caused a smile to flit across Chris's mouth. He then caressed down JD's arm until his hand was once more covering JD's, whose fingers were still so diligently wrapped around Chris' prick, stroking. He pried the fingers away and moved JD to his own, once again stiff length. JD hesitated, as if embarrassed to be touching himself in front of Chris, but Chris's hand was encouraging. When JD was moving on his own, Chris slipped his hand lower and cupped the young man's balls. JD went tense against him, but just for a moment; kisses on his collarbone seemed to settle him right down.
Chris kissed over JD's shoulder as he eased himself around and behind, until he was able to press kisses to the back of JD's neck and into the valley between his shoulder blades. Chris had released JD's sac and now both hands caressed upper thighs and hipbones, his fingers occasionally delving into the kid's thatch to glance against the base of his prick.
"Don't come," Chris whispered. He felt JD shudder at the words.
"Mr..." JD began, but failed to continue.
"Think you better call me Chris, at least for tonight."
JD nodded his head.
Chris brought one of his hands back, wet it with saliva, and coated the length of his prick. He then pressed himself between JD's cheeks. He bent JD forward just a bit as he slid his length forward and down, until the tip hit the back of JD's balls.
JD's moan echoed the one in Chris's mind. This felt so damn good — too good, or maybe it had just been too long. Either way, the desire for more contact, the need for release was building desperately in Chris's gut and quickly spreading through his muscles and nerves until it was all his mind could think on.
He pushed JD toward the straw mattress and silently prayed the ropes strung across the wooden frame to support the mattress were strong enough to hold their combined weight.
And while he realized there was the possibility of collapse followed by the consequential rescue by Vin or Nathan or some of the Seminoles, Chris's mind and body refused to care about it. All he wanted was JD, and wanting JD was all he could think about.
But when he'd gotten JD on the bed, kneeling as directed, Chris realized he did have one more thing he needed to think about. So, he leaned over, snatched the aloe vera leaves off the small table, and then snuffed out the candle between a thumb and forefinger.
He kneeled on the bed behind JD and rubbed the slick plant juices along his length. He scraped more gelatinous juice from the inside of the leaves with his fingers and then rubbed it over JD's hole. Then he slide his fingers forward to tease the backside of the kid's balls before slipping his thumb past the ring of muscle, which instantly tightened around him, only to ease as Chris continued to play with the dangling sac. Soon, JD was pushing his hips back, as if to shove Chris's thumb deeper, but it was already buried flushed to the second joint.
If the kid was ready for more, Chris thought, then he might as well have it all. Chris removed his thumb and then positioned the tip of his prick against the hole.
"Relax," Chris said and he immediately felt JD tense beneath the hand on his hip. Chris almost laughed, but he managed to contain himself to a wry smile, which JD was in no position to see. "Push," he said, and then added, "bear down, like you're taking a crap." It was without doubt the least romantic thing he'd ever said during an intimate moment, but JD did as he was told and Chris was able to push the tip past the muscles before JD tensed again.
"Now breathe," Chris instructed, and JD let out in a ragged sigh the breath he'd been holding.
Chris left his one hand on JD's hip and with the other grabbed JD's shoulder. He pulled JD up and back into his lap as he thrust his hips forward to drive his prick deep. JD gasped, but neither struggled nor complained. Chris slid his arm down from JD's shoulder to wrap it around his waist. His other arm came up in a similar motion, but continued forward until he was able to wrap fingers around JD's stiff prick.
He thrust his hips forward and back, and as proof that JD was the expert horseman than he claimed, they quickly fell into the rhythm of a gallop — sliding forward and then up — JD sitting against Chris as if they were sharing a saddle.
JD began making little sounds that both pleased and amused Chris: little pants and moans, sucks of air between clenched teeth, and gasps that were so close to laughter that Chris could not doubt that JD was enjoying this as much as he was. Chris pressed kisses against the back of JD's neck and along his shoulders. When he moved his mouth up to his jaw, JD turned his head and Chris felt lips take his own. The tip of a tongue forced its way between his lips and Chris couldn't have been more surprised.
He sucked on the JD's tongue as his hand worked over the length of JD's prick, stroking as they continued to fuck. He wanted JD to come in his hand again, because he wanted to feel him come from the inside. He hoped JD was capable of it, though in truth Chris had little doubt; however old JD claimed to be, he was still young and resilient, and while Chris might have trouble coming twice in the space of an hour, he knew JD was up to the challenge and envied him for it.
"I'm coming," JD muttered into his mouth, but again, Chris already knew. He felt the muscles inside JD contracting around his prick just a moment before his fingertips at the base of JD's prick felt the undulation of fluid moving up his shaft. Warm liquid splashed onto Chris's hand, which he now very slowly and gently moved up and down JD's length, to milk the spume from him.
But before JD was finished, Chris felt himself about to come. His balls contracted against the base of his prick and he felt himself stiffen even more inside of JD's hot channel. He grabbed JD's hips and held him firm as his hips pumped wildly against JD's ass. He thrust deep again and again, his mind aware of nothing except the explosion of sensation radiating from his groin.
Chris slipped his arms around JD and held him close against his chest and the last waves dissipated, taking with it the lingering tension of the day's battle. Spent, he fell onto the mattress, dragging JD down with him. Chris lay spooned up behind JD in the darkness, aware only of his own racing heartbeat and rapid breathing.
After a while, JD broke the silence. "Mr. Larabee? Chris?"
"Yeah, JD?"
"What happens now?"
"You go back to your bedroll and get some sleep. We leave first thing in the morning."
"But what about Buck? Don't you care what happens to him?"
"More than you know."
"But you're just going to leave him out here?"
"There's nothing I can do for him."
"You can be with him."
"He's not even conscious. And Nathan doesn't need anyone getting in his way while he's trying to work. If Buck makes it through the night—"
"If?"
Chris nodded his head. "Then he'll probably be fine and I'll come back out here and check up on him."
"Can I come, too?"
"Doubt I could stop you."
"Doubt you could."
"Then I guess the answer is yes."
"Chris?"
"Yeah, JD?"
"If Buck doesn't make it...."
"He's tougher than you think."
"But if he doesn't ... I mean, he gave me his hat, like he didn't think he'd need it anymore."
Chris smiled, though he knew JD couldn't see it. "I'm sure he was just using that as an excuse to get you to give up that bowler of yours; you know how he hates it."
"But I like my hat."
"I kind of guessed that."
"Chris?"
"Yeah, JD?"
"Can I.... I mean, I'm kind of...."
JD didn't have to finish. Chris knew. JD was worried and scared about Buck, and he didn't want to be alone. When it came down to it, Chris had to admit to himself he was having similar feelings.
"Yeah, you can stay," Chris said. He tugged a blanket over them and then pulled JD close against him underneath the warmth of the covers. Maybe JD was the type after all.
- Continued in The Thing's A Body's Own -
April 2005Please do NOT repost this story anywhere outside of the Blackraptor Fiction Website.Thanks to my friend for beta reading! As always, it's much appreciated.Characters from "The Magnificent Seven" were used without permission and this story in no way signifies support of, or affiliation with, The Mirisch Group, MGM, Trilogy Entertainment, CBS Worldwide, Inc., or their affiliates. No copyright infringement is intended. The story itself and any non-Magnificent Seven characters belong to the author. This story was written for personal entertainment and will not be sold for any reason.