Feedback: Yes Please:-)
Pairing: Chris/Vin
Warnings: Graphic M/M sex and bad language
Chris lifted the lid from the casserole dish and leaned down to sniff the rich, savoury aroma appreciatively. He didn't cook often, but when he did - he really liked to go to town. Chris liked Vin to have something warm inside him to precede a night of having something hot inside him. He tried to remember when he had ever cooked for anyone else, but unless take-out counted, the only answer he could come up with was "crap!"."Hey."
Chris turned around and found something much better than Moroccan Tangine to appreciate; Vin was dressed in clinging, ratty sweats, his hair was a long, tangled mane and he had nothing on his feet. The heat was rising in this particular kitchen, but Chris had no intention of getting out. He wondered if this rush, the instant arousal he seemed to feel whenever he saw Vin would ever fade. He hoped the hell not.
"Mmmmm," he murmured.
Vin scowled at Chris who wondered what Vin would do if he only realised just how sexy that particular look was...Nah better not tell him, he might stop doing it.
"Cn' I help with anything?"
Chris contemplated for a minute. "Yeah, you can sit on the counter and let me objectify you."
"Larabee, ya can't cook and look at me at the same time."
"I'm multi-skilled, I can stir the pot and feel you up as well."
Vin laughed as he leapt with graceful alacrity onto the counter. It was a carefree, joyous sound that Chris treasured because it happened so rarely.
"It's just as well I's quite like being an object of lust," Vin mused reflectively.
Chris went to open a window to let some of the steam out, not all of it created by the pans on the hob. "You've missed out 'Larabee' in that sentence, Tanner."
Vin looked down enquiringly. "I did?"
"Yeah. It's just as well you like being an object of Larabee's lust. You'd better not like anyone else's at all!"
Vin choked, "Larabee's Lust? It sounds like a fuckin' Kentucky Derby winner." He thought about what Chris had said and righteous indignation filled Vin's voice. "I've never even seen anyone else's lust. A skinny, scruffy texan don't get many offers, ya know."
"Correction, Vin: you were a skinny, scruffy texan, now you're a chunky, scruffy texan. I put it down to my feeding you up since we got together. Just call me Martha Stewart and send me a tax bill."
Vin looked at Chris with a dangerous gleam in his blue eyes. Chris had encountered that look before and it had gotten him a week sleeping on the deck - even the couch had been too close for Vin's peace of mind. Chris began to mentally review what he had just said.
"Chunky?" Vin beat him to it and menace dripped from every drawled syllable. "CHUNKY!"
Chris thought furiously. "Hunk-y. That's it. A total hunk-y babe." Chris could work his eyes, not quite in the same class as Vin, but, they had gotten him out of heaps of shit before and he could see his wilfull lover struggling to maintain his grievance. Chris being Chris decided to add more fuel to the already blazing fire.
"Although," he added musingly, "you could be my Chunky Vinmonkey. Now there's a flavour Ben and Jerry haven't thought up yet. Oh yeah! Vin Tanner flavoured ice cream. If that was on the market, I'd guarantee I'd weigh thirty stones in a week!"
"I's letting chunky go, Larabee, but only cos' I don't have a damn clue what y'all yapping on about and ya is making me a nice dinner."
Chris turned back to the oven and allowed himself a smile of victory - if only the boys at Quantico could see him now, dressed in a frilly apron and tied by its strings to a gorgeous sharpshooter who led him a merry dance, they would drop on the spot...possibly after punching his lights out. Chris wanted to laugh himself sick at the thought, but possibly Vin might not quite understand.
The unmistakable sound of strong, white teeth biting into a crunchy, juicy apple had Chris spinning back round.
"You'll spoil your dinner," he bitched.
Vin casually shrugged. "An apple a day keeps the Doctor away," he smirked.
"Vin, you could eat apples from dawn 'til dusk and still you'd get the annual prize for the year's longest inhabitant of the hospital. You've held that record for two years, they have a bed with your name on it for chrissakes."
"At's cos I's have to eat y'alls cooking too, it wipes out the benefits of eating apples."
The hurt showed on Chris's expressive face. "I only poisoned you that one damn time."
"Larabee, the nurses had to wear Bio-Hazard suits just to come near me. They were calling me Tanner and the Technicolour Projectile Vomit."
"Well who knew that six week old Salsa would have that effect? I thought the green bits were Guacamole."
Vin scowled around the apple he was still munching. "What? Furry Guacamole? I noticed ya didn't eat any."
"I was saving it for you. Why didn't you say it tasted funny?"
Vin had to plead the fifth on that one. He didn't want to tell Chris that most of his cooking tasted funny, because then he would have to admit he was a total sap. A sap who was so in love with his...boyf...um lov...pard that he would do anything to keep him happy. Even eat food that rivalled some of the strangest things he had put in his mouth from trashcans when on the streets.
"Anyway, I don't know how you have the nerve to complain about my cooking, I've never seen you refuse to eat it. In fact, you shovel it in your mouth like you've been starving for a week!"
'That's because I's don't want to give my tastebuds time to meet'n'greet,' thought Vin mischievously. He looked at Chris, busy stirring pots and anxiously checking the recipe in the cook book for about the tenth time, and he felt that love rush through him. He knew instinctively that Chris would not just do this for anyone else. Who gave a damn if it tasted like crap?
"I'm sorry..." Vin said pacifically, making with the big blue eyes and completely unbelievable angelic expression.
Chris threw back his head and gave a great belly laugh. "You shit," he chuckled, "I should kick your ass!"
Vin grinned unrepentently. "Well..." he was all demure innocence, "...only as long as you kissed it better."
Chris moved to stand in-between Vin's jersey clad legs. "I think we can say that with the fullest confidence." He leaned up to kiss Vin swiftly on the lips and was totally blown away when he felt an apple flavoured sigh of pleasure against his mouth. Chris began to pull back, muttering something disjointed about the stove.
"Hey! No fair." Vin grabbed the apron front and pulled Chris in so that he could crush their mouths together in a fiery tussle of tongues, lips and teeth. He wrapped his long legs around Chris's hips to keep him right where he wanted him. His mouth broke from Chris's for a moment to gasp hoarsely as their fabric covered cocks brushed against each other. Vin used his arms to yank Chris even closer; he desperately needed more and he tugged Chris's shirt up and slid his hands under the cloth to track the·tantalisingly smooth skin he'd uncovered. Shivering in delicious reaction, Chris bit the underside of Vin's jaw in retaliation, but then laved it better with his tongue. He went on to trail his hands up over Vin's stomach, brushing his knuckles over the well defined abs, before sliding around his ribs to fondle his lower back. The calloused caresses made Vin moan helplessly between nips at Chris's throat to catch the beads of sweat that were forming to trickle down. Chris slipped his hands beneath the waistband of Vin's sweats to massage the twin globes of the sweet ass that he loved so much. Gripping Vin's hips, he pulled him to the edge of the counter so that he could line up their dicks more easily. Chris clambered clumsily onto the counter and bore Vin back to lie along the smooth surface. They both cried out as they came into full bodily contact.
"Chris?" It was hard to think when a hot, wet tongue was making a friendly incursion into a very willing ear. "LARABEE!"
"What?" Chris bared his teeth. "Kinda busy here, Vin."
"We can't...Oh God. Yes! Right there...er...we can't do it here."
"We damn well can!"
"B...b...but we eat off this counter!" Vin was panting hoarsely.
"You have picked up the weirdest habits on your jaunts." Chris was kissing and licking his way down Vin's chest, only having a rest stop at the enticing nipples along the way. "I eat from plates myself, but if you wanna eat off the counter go ahead! Gravy could be messy though."
"Seriously. Y'all know what I mean." Chris stopped what he was doing long enough to press a lingering kiss onto Vin's swollen lips and then he gazed meaningfully into pleasure drowned blue eyes. "It's just as well we do eat here," he breathed huskily in promise, "because I plan to gobble you up!"
"Ya know, if y'all is goin' Alpha on me then the frilly apron is so not helping your cause."
"Well that's easily remedied, Tanner." Kneeling up, Chris began to tear at his clothes, only hampered a little by the human limpet trying to climb into his body with him.
"Vin! Get with the programme!"
"Okay, okay. Are you the naked chef, Chris?"
"No, I'm the fucking horny chef, so hurry the hell up."
Vin surged up and ripped his tee over his head and threw it haphazardly across the kitchen. Trying to get the bottoms off proved rather more difficult, balanced precariously as he was along the counter and with a tall combat trained ATF agent straddling his thighs, undressing.
"Ooof Larabee," he snarled, "some help here."
Chris pushed Vin flat and began tugging at the sweats in a frenzy, finally yanking them from Vin's long legs and flinging them away, his hazel eyes glittering in triumph as he mashed Vin flat and began to maul him.
"I's take it y'all is topping," enquired Vin tartly.
"The chef is supreme in the kitchen," Chris stated with a pronounced leer. "Everyone else is under him."
"Just as well for ya I's easy."
"Slut," replied Chris fondly, while furiously working out the logistics of two grown men having sex on a narrow kitchen counter. "I think this will only work if you are up on your knees."
They both scrambled up to get into position. "Fuck, I need to get lube. I'll never make it to the bedroom," Chris was positively whining.
Vin nodded at a bottle that was next to the stove. "Use Olive Oil an' fuckin' hurry."
Chris reached out and snagged the oil, pouring a generous amount into his shaking hand, some of it splashing onto the surface of the counter. "Extra Virgin, just for you, Tanner."
"Lucky for y'all I's not even close. Fuck me hard, Chris."
"Shit! Don't say things like that, I'll go off like a rocket."
"Well get the hell inside me then!"
Chris swiftly prepared Vin and then slicked his throbbing, swollen cock. He gripped Vin's hips and raised him, positioning himself at the entrance of the beloved body in front of him. He steadily pushed the head into the gripping, tight heat that hi· dick craved and Chris couldn't prevent a groan of ecstasy as milimetre by milimetre he was swallowed whole.
It was too slow for Vin, he reached down and grabbed Chris's hands from his hips, and with one shove backwards, impaled himself fully onto the hot, straining shaft beneath him.
They both yelled out.
"F...f..fuck, Tanner!"
Chris couldn't help himself, he was buried to the balls in his headstrong lover - he just had to thrust. He screwed up his eyes and face in an effort to just be still, but he could no sooner stop his body's demands than prevent the tide from rushing to shore. It didn't damn well help when Vin was writhing all over his lap and commanding him to, "Get the hell on with it, for fuck's sake."
It wasn't romantic, it was primal. It wasn't cerebral, it was sheer physical, grunting effort. Two men locked together on top of the counter - heaving, sweating, twisting, using each other, engaged in the most primitive yet deepest of earthly connections.
Chris plunged again and again into Vin's sweating, shuddering body, angling his thrusts to give maximum pleasure. He wrapped his arms across Vin's chest and pulled him up, peering down over the shoulder in front of him.
"Touch yourself!" he ordered in a croaky growl.
Vin leaned his head back against Chris's chest and wrapped his long fingers around his own begging cock. Fisting it in time with the powerful strokes inside him and he moaned in luxurious delight as he was rocked forward. Chris moaned too - at the wonderfully erotic sight of Vin losing control.
Chris pressed his hands into Vin's lower belly and felt himself moving inside. It was too fucking hot, too fucking much, too fucking Vin! He stilled, quaking, but he could not resist his body's desperate clamour, he cried out an incoherent warning as intense spasms shook him to the core and he exploded, shooting his completion deep within Vin.
The feel of Chris's heat blazing a trail inside him, sent Vin spiralling over the edge and he came...hard, over his hand and shooting along the counter. After aeons or mere minutes, they quieted and came back into themselves. Chris slipped out of Vin and wrapped his arms around his trembling lover.
"Fuck that was good!" he rasped, panting heavily.
"Uh huh," rasped Vin weakly. "Chris, my sight is blurry."
Chris preened, "What can ya expect? I'm a sex god."
Vin snorted loudly."Someone's full of himself and it ain't me."
Chris leaned forward, "you were full of me a couple of minutes ago, full ta burtsin' if I remember right," he whispered throatily.
"Fuck, Larabee, I ain't barely recovered yet, I need rest for a couple more minutes. What I meant was something is ain't right."
"What?" Chris looked around him and noticed the acrid smoke rapidly filling the kitchen. "Shit! Fuck! Dinner is burning." He leaped down from the counter and promptly fell on his ass. Semen and Olive Oil had dripped onto the floor, he gingerly got himself upright and skidded and slipped his way to the stove.
"Ruined," he announced mournfully as he fiddled with oven controls.
Vin was having his own problems. The oil and come covered counter was not the easiest thing to negotiate with his body still blissed out from stonking great sex with his ardent, athletic lover. His ass ached in a way that made him glad to be alive; he liked knowing Chris had been inside him, hugged the secret to himself like a warm blanket when they had to pretend to be nothing more than buddies in the office. Liked to shift in his chair or in the conference room and feel an ache deep inside that signalled to him they were together.
Chris grabbed both the pans and dropped them into the trash can, not regretting the mindblowing sex at all, but saddened that his culinary efforts had been in vain. He wanted to show Vin that he loved him in other ways than just fucking.
"Pizza?" he asked dejectedly, looking back at the sticky, slippery man still sprawled on the counte·. What a fucking amazing sight! Chris was amazed when his dick gave a twitch of appreciation - there was still life in this old dog!
"I have a better idea,Cowboy," replied Vin. "How 'bout some comfort sex? Take our mind of ta burnt offerings."
Chris grinned, "A man with a plan." With a huge whoop of jubilation, he took a giant leap towards the counter and his lover. Vin squeaked at the sight of an ATF agent flying without wings and took evasive action, rolling into a ball on his side.
There was a huge thud as 180 pounds of Larabee landed heavily and slid along the slick counter, ramming into Vin and crowding him up against the wall. As Vin peeked cautiously out from beneath his hands, there came the sound of ominous creaking.
"Oooops," groaned Chris.
With a massive, thunderous crash, the counter collapsed.
Dust and debris filled the abused kitchen.
"Oh Chris!" gushed Vin, now lying on the floor. "You've finally made the earth move."
"Bastard," coughed Chris, spluttering. "I'm covered in crap."
"Count yourself lucky! My butt's gonna be black and blue and not just from the pounding you gave it."
"Yeah, well unless you have splinters the size of porcupine quills sticking outta your ass, I'd shut up."
Vin was not a peace loving man for nothing. He knew when to let the dust settle.
"I's very handy with tweezers, Chris, and apparently I'm great at pluckin'!"
\b Epilogue \b0
They were on their second day of the clean up operation; it had taken one day just to get themselves sorted, never mind the kitchen. They surveyed in dismay the come covered, greasy wreckage that once was the counter.
"Somehow I don't think disinfectant will quite fix this disaster area," Chris said ruefully.
"How did my pants end up on the ceiling fan?" Vin was gobsmacked.
"I guess I was motivated," sniggered Chris. "If I ever ask you to sit on the counter and let me look at you again, shoot me."
"Yeah, yeah, ya say that now, but y'all know as soon as ya feel in the mood I'll be back up there being objectified. Anyway it was great sex."
"Yeah," smiled Chris reminiscently, "the best, and worth every scream as you extracted the splinters from my ass."
"You know we could get some help cleaning up if we play the helpless but hot men in distress card."
Chris's ears perked up at the word help. "We could?"
"Yeah...What about Gloria?"
"Gloria Potter?" Chris prompted.
"Yeah, she likes you and is always offering to help us guys out. Go and ask her."
"What! Why me? You're the one with the big, blue eyes."
"I've seen her checking your ass out and if you ask nicely she may rub it better."
"She'll wonder what the hell we've been doing."
Vin had a pronounced twinkle in his quote 'big, blue eyes'. "She would have to be an idiot not to work it out, but we'll buy her silence with the offer of a threesome."
"Vin Tanner!!"
Finis