Yellowstone AU

Summary: Vin woke to an empty bed.

Author's Notes: Betaed by my universe-building colleagues Farad and Sassy. Arouette and Catyah provided inestimable moral support.

Vin woke to an empty bed.

He rolled to his side and sat up, wiping the sleep out of his eyes, while he tried to figure out why that felt strange to him.

After all, it had been a long time since anyone'd shared his bed, and it had never been what he'd call a regular thing. But he remembered...

He rubbed his bare chest, soothing the sudden jump and lurch of his heart, as the memories came back: Chris at his door late at night, offering Chris a beer, sitting next to each other on the steps of his camper listening to the night music, Chris's hand on his leg, their first kiss, moving inside and kicking the door closed as the surprise of that kiss turned into a flash-fire of heat. Vin rose to his feet and grabbed his shorts off the floor where they'd been dropped without thought on the trip from doorway to bed.

He stroked the soft, worn knit fabric with his fingertips, remembering the feel of Chris touching him through it, hip and ass held tight as their cocks rubbed together through the fabric, and then without it. His heart jumped in his chest again and he pulled the shorts on over his half-hard dick.

It was obvious, even in the dim moonlight that made its way through the windows, though, that Chris had gone while Vin was sleeping. Without a word.

Damn.

He reached for his t-shirt to hold off the chill of the night. As he pulled it on, his hands passed over a patch of dried come on his belly. Chris's, he thought. He swore softly and pulled the shirt on over it; he'd deal with that later, when he couldn't remember quite so clearly Chris calling his name, face twisted up and beautiful in orgasm.

He pulled himself a bottle of water from the cooler chest and found a damp washcloth draped across the edge of his tiny sink. On an impulse he lifted it to his nose, clenching his jaw as he caught the smell of come. Seemed like Chris had been in a hell of a hurry to clean up and get out. He sighed and spread the washcloth back out on the edge of the sink and rested his forehead on the cool wall of his Airstream.

He'd known that something wasn't quite right with Chris when he'd shown up near midnight, not drunk but clearly torn up about something. So he'd invited Chris to stop for a while, have a beer. Couldn't send him back out like that, with his pain worn so clear on his face, wouldn't have been right. Didn't exactly mean to invite him to have a fuck as well, but couldn't say it wasn't something he'd wanted since the moment they met.

Couldn't say he didn't want a whole lot more than just fucking with Chris Larabee. With Chris gone, though, he was glad the question hadn't been raised the night before or he'd have looked like a damned fool talking about love to a man with an itch to scratch.

And maybe a curiosity about scratching it with another man.

Vin rubbed a burning out of his eyes and looked around the camper, hoping to see something he'd missed, a note maybe. Anything to indicate that Chris hadn't just cleaned off all trace of him and bolted back to the safety of his own house while Vin was sleeping.

But there was nothing there; his camper was too small for secrets. Vin sat down heavily on the edge of his bed and rested his head in his hands for a minute while he worked out what to do. He needed to get out of there, away from the Ranger Station, away from Chris. He winced. Never wanted that before; he felt like his whole life had been moving toward Chris and now he just wanted to get away.

He swore again and started getting his gear ready for a hike. He'd just come back from a seven-night trip up to Sportsman Lake, so most of it was still packed. He just had to refill the fuel containers, and shove the dirty clothes into his hamper and replace them with clean ones.

While he was repacking, he scooped up a flannel shirt that had been left on the floor the night before, thrown there, like his shorts and t-shirt, in their haste to get skin to skin. He held that thought out of his mind, teeth clenched, and noticed a dull glint on the vinyl floor. One of Chris's US NPS insignia from his uniform shirt. Despite his efforts not to, Vin remembered his flannel getting caught on Chris's shirt while they were kissing, Chris pulling the shirt off of Vin then yanking it away from where they were caught together. He pressed his lips together for a second then swallowed hard as he decided he'd stop by Chris's office in the morning before he left to give it back.

Maybe he was wrong, he tried to tell himself. Maybe Chris's departure didn't mean anything at all.

But that hope failed to find any ground in his heart, and he continued his careful packing without allowing himself to think of it.

Sunday, 7:28 am

He walked to the Visitor Center as soon as he thought someone might be there, pack on his back. Didn't make sense to leave his truck parked there rather than at the campground and it wasn't much of a walk. The building was still closed to visitors, but there were some lights on in the offices.

He let himself in then propped his pack and hiking stick by the door. JD was at the front desk doing something on the computer. He looked up when Vin walked in, smiled, and waved, then went right back to whatever it was he was doing. Something important and difficult, Vin guessed from the way he was leaning so close to the computer screen his nose might be touching it.

Vin walked back to Chris's office, which was open and lit. A sure sign that Chris was in and working. Working early for a man who'd been on duty until late the night before. Vin looked at him from outside the door for a minute, watching the play of the early light on his golden hair, the movement of muscles under his grey shirt, the decisiveness of his hands as he made notes on something. God, Vin could remember all of it, the way Chris's hair felt, the strength of the chest and arms, those hands on his body, everywhere.

He licked his lips then knocked on the doorframe, saying, "Hey."

Chris looked up and his eyes widened, surprised maybe, then narrowed. He nodded then turned back to his work. "Mornin'," he said, and his voice was curt, clipped.

Vin leaned against the doorframe for a few moments waiting, hoping for more.

And more eventually came. "Anything I can help you with?" Chris asked, not looking up.

Vin shrugged. "Just seeing how you are, I guess."

Chris did look up then, though he wouldn't meet Vin's eyes. "Fine. Late night last night," he said, as though Vin hadn't been there for most of it, hadn't been in his arms, under him.

Vin pushed away from the doorframe and said, simply, "Okay." If Chris wanted to pretend it never happened, well, he wasn't at all sure he could do that but with a few days away maybe he could. And if he couldn't, he could transfer to another station. There were other places in the park that would need him year 'round. Unconsciously he rubbed his chest and the material of his uniform shirt scratched at his bare skin.

Chris turned back to his work and waved absentmindedly, attention far away.

Vin resisted the urge to put his fist through the glass wall of Chris's office and walked back out to the front desk, feeling the tightness of his muscles through his shoulders and back. He'd refused to nurture that faint hope, but with it dead he needed more than ever to get out of there.

Sunday, 7:30 am

When he heard Vin walk away, Chris dropped his pen and rested his elbows on his desk, head hanging. Jesus, fuck, what had he done?

He'd been weak, so damned weak, the night before. He'd been hurting, driven to thinking about Sarah and Adam by a song on the radio on his way home from a late shift, aching from their loss. He remembered picking up a whiskey bottle but putting it down again after just one shot. It wouldn't help. It never did.

Even when he'd needed it most it had always failed him, left him hungover and half-ashamed in some stranger's bed, or sprawled on the floor in his house in Phoenix his clothes rank with vomit.

So he'd left the house without even changing out of his uniform to find someone who'd never failed him. Not once.

He thought he was going to Buck's, didn't even realize he'd driven right past the turning to his house until he pulled up in front of Vin's tiny Airstream trailer. Guided by his heart to the soul he'd known forever, even though they'd only met a few months before.

And Vin hadn't failed him. Vin had invited him in, offered him a beer. He remembered even laughing a little about what Travis would say if he'd gotten caught drinking a beer in uniform. Laughing, when just an hour before he'd been dying with his grief.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his eyes, hoping that if someone looked in it would look like he head a headache.

Which he did. A headache that started from his diaphragm and felt like it was erupting out of the top of his skull.

And every time he thought of Vin, the smoothness of his skin, the heat of his mouth, his heart lurched and rolled and he thought he was going to be...what? Not sick, no, the thought of making love with Vin didn't make him feel that. Maybe it would be easier if it did. It made him feel like he was on the edge of a cliff and looking over, feeling the urge to fly and knowing he couldn't.

He was grateful when his thoughts were interrupted by Vin's voice from the outer office raised slightly. Grateful, until he listened to the words, "Damn it, JD, I'll sort it out with them when I get back. I don't give a shit if they pay me or not. Now," there was the slap of Vin smacking the desk, and he went on, "here's my damned itinerary. Gonna check campsites and permits all along through this area, then come back along this trail on Wednesday. No one's looked at it for a couple of weeks." Chris pinched the bridge of his nose and swore to himself.

Voice subdued, JD said, "Okay, Vin. I'll file it and make sure Chris knows you're going to be gone." Vin said something after that, something Chris couldn't hear, though he desperately wanted to, and JD went on. "Don't forget you've got that camp group."

"Yeah, Thursday morning. I'll be back in time," Vin said. After a pause, he went on, "And get those forms for me would you, kid? Just stick 'em in my desk."

"If you're sure," JD said, though his voice was hushed and dark with some emotion Chris couldn't decipher.

The only thing Chris heard after that was the sound of the heavy office door swinging shut with its normal quiet thud.

Sunday, 7:31 am

Vin swung his pack onto his back and grabbed his stick as he walked through the door and breathed deeply of the fresh air. He'd felt like he was suffocating in the building, Chris's silence sucking all the air out of it. He'd have to stop by the outfitter in the bookstore for food. It was expensive, but he didn't have enough to stay out until Wednesday if he didn't and he fully intended to stay in the backcountry as much as possible until he'd forgotten as thoroughly as Chris had.

He was rescued from his thoughts by Josiah, who said good morning as he climbed out of his elderly Jeep. When Vin waved, Josiah went on, "You're leaving again? I thought you just got back yesterday."

Vin shrugged. "Yeah. But it's feeling a little close around here, so I thought I'd head out again," Vin said, hoping that would be enough information to satisfy rather than spark Josiah's curiosity.

"When was the last time you had a day off?" Josiah asked and his blue eyes felt like they were looking right into Vin's skull.

Vin ducked his head, though he wasn't sure what he was hiding. "Don't matter. Don't really feel like work out there anyway, least not most of the time," he said, aware that he was mumbling.

"You're not forgetting the Boy Scout group we're leading...," Josiah began, then shook his head and stopped himself. "No, you're not forgetting, are you?" Vin smiled, more wanly than he'd hoped, and the tension that had been building eased some. "When are you getting back?"

"Wednesday afternoon. I'll just need to re-pack my gear and be ready to go Thursday morning," Vin said, still avoiding Josiah's eyes for some reason.

Josiah looked at him for another second then said, "Where are you off to? Can I give you a lift?"

Vin thought about the question for a second. It would save him a couple hours of walking. Get him away from Mammoth just that little bit faster. Vin shrugged. "Got to stop by the General Store for some food." Josiah's eyebrows rose at that, but he said nothing and Vin went on, "Then I'm heading out over Bighorn Pass. I'd appreciate a ride to the trailhead, if you're heading in that direction."

"Never known you to buy anything from them before, Vin," Josiah said as he climbed back in and waved to the passenger seat.

Vin weighed for a minute what to say, as he dropped his backpack into the rear of the jeep and climbed in. "Didn't quite plan on heading out so soon. Low on supplies," he said, aware that he was revealing too much. He didn't generally let himself get low on supplies, but he'd counted on having a few days at home. He fastened his seat belt and went on, slowly, "Got plenty coming for the Scout trip, I just need to pack it up."

Josiah nodded and said nothing as they drove to the Yellowstone General Store, which included a gift shop, convenience store and a small, over-priced outdoor supply shop. When Vin climbed out, Josiah said, "I'll wait here for you."

Inside the store, Vin winced at the prices of the foods, and the selection, but finally he found bags of freeze dried beef and mixed vegetables. He already had food for breakfast and snacks, so with something that passed for stew for dinner he'd be just fine, at least for a few days.

When he pulled out his wallet to pay, he pricked his finger on something sharp in his pocket. Chris's insignia. He ran his finger across the bronze, warm from his pocket, and felt a stab of anger. Jesus he'd been a fool, thinking even for an instant that what they'd done had meant anything to Chris. Wasn't liked they'd talked. Not a single word from Chris after that first kiss and only a few from him. He clenched the insignia in his fist, pressing the pin into the palm of his hand until he felt his skin give way with a bite of pain. He dropped it back into his pocket with his wallet and waved away his change as he walked outside.

Outside, Josiah was sitting on the hood of his Jeep, basking in the sunlight and Vin smiled. That man had an uncanny gift for finding a peaceful moment anywhere. Even in the middle of a parking lot. Josiah didn't move while Vin packed the food into his backpack, but when he was done and ready to go, Josiah was already getting into the driver's seat.

They drove in silence, for which Vin was grateful. He just watched the hills and rocks go by and told himself that the hot ache in his chest was easing as they went.

When they arrived at the trailhead, Josiah stopped Vin from exiting the Jeep with a hand on his arm and said, softly, "Injured cougars head into the high, lonesome places to lick their wounds, brother, but the wolves know there's even more healing among the pack."

Vin looked out the window toward the mountains he was going to be walking into and didn't know how to tell Josiah that all he'd ever learned was to heal alone. So he smiled, faintly, and just said, "Thanks for the lift, Josiah. I'll see you Thursday morning."

Josiah didn't say anything, but his blue eyes were solemn as he watched Vin grab his backpack and hiking stick from the back of the jeep. Vin didn't turn back to look, but he could still feel them on him as he started down the trail, watching him until he was out of sight.

Sunday, 4:30 pm

Chris spent the day in his office, alternately ignoring and snarling at people who came to talk to him. Buck had taken over his morning talk on the Wonders of Yellowstone, a program Chris generally enjoyed if only because it was a chance to get out of his office and walk around a bit. But Buck was afraid that in his mood, Chris would scare the children. Chris had stared at him, eyes narrowed and boiling with anger, prepared to argue the point, until Buck laughed and said, "Yeah, that's the look right there. The little kids'll be wetting themselves. Best if I do it. I still know how to smile."

And he'd sauntered away before Chris could formulate a response.

Around 1:30, Inez had sent over a hamburger and fries from the Grill, courtesy of Nathan who was afraid Chris was going to burn a hole in his stomach with his stress. Chris's 'thank you' had come out sounding like a reprimand and Buck and Nathan had both glared at him.

After that, they'd left him pretty much alone. Which was both a relief and an embarrassment. Mostly a relief. He'd be embarrassed later, when he wasn't so angry.

A knock at his office door pulled Chris's head out of his paperwork. JD stood at the doorway a nervous smile on his face. "You were here before I got here and I've done a full day's work. Should we be kicking you out now?" he asked, the concern in his voice real.

Chris forced back a snarl, and said, "Still got work to do. I'll go when I'm done."

"You were here when I left yesterday too," JD went on, either oblivious to or ignoring the menace in Chris's voice. "Did you ever get home last night?"

Chris did snarl, or scowl, at that. He didn't want to go home and risk being reminded of Sarah and Adam again. Didn't want to have the time to think of Vin. Think of holding him, kissing him. He felt that vertigo again, the call of the cliff and the desire to leap and fly; he rubbed away the feel of Vin's skin from the palm of his hand. "Go on home, JD," he said, voice sharp as a whip.

JD was the newest at the station and hadn't known Chris long, but he pulled himself up to his full height and said, "Do you even know who you're really mad at? Because I don't see how you're mad at any of us, when you've been like this since I got here." He didn't even give Chris a chance to answer before he walked away, muttering, "Don't know who was worse this morning, you or Vin."

Chris tried to get back to work after he heard JD slam out through the door, but was interrupted by Buck, who stepped in without knocking and said, "You're just being a regular ray of sunshine and happiness today aren't you? Told you you'd scare the youngsters. Though, thinking on it, JD didn't seem scared so much as pissed off. Maybe I need to stop calling him 'kid'."

Chris turned slowly in his chair to glare at Buck, then when his friend did nothing but grin in response said, "I'm not in the mood, Buck."

Buck hitched one hip onto the corner of Chris's desk and said, "Well now, stud, I don't think any of us were in the mood to get barked at today either. Sometimes you've got to put up with crap whether you want to or not. So, tell me, what's eating you?"

Chris sighed and resigned himself to the unwelcome conversation. When he got his teeth into something, Buck could be as persistent as a pit bull. "Just had a bad..." His voice trailed away as he realized what he was saying. Had it really been a bad night? God no, not if he was honest with himself. His heart leapt and spun as the memories of the night before crowded him.

Before he could really think at all, Buck latched onto his words and said, "Bad night?"

Chris nodded. "Yeah. Heard that song that Sarah and Adam used to dance to, the one by Paul Simon."

"'You Can Call Me Al'?" Buck asked.

Chris smiled as he nodded, then rubbed his forehead and clenched his teeth against tears as he remembered his wife, the sun in her auburn hair, dancing around the kitchen with Adam standing on her feet and singing at the top of his lungs, "You can be my bodyguard and I can be your long lost pal." God, they'd been beautiful, both of them. And somehow in his memories they were always in afternoon sunlight. Shining and golden and laughing. Luminous.

Vin hadn't been luminous at all, he'd been shadow and silence, faint moonlight and whispers. Beautiful in his own way too, though, with the night silvering his skin, and Chris wanted to touch him again almost as badly as he wanted to be able to touch his wife.

His stomach lurched and this time Chris was afraid he would be sick.

Monday, 12:55 pm

Heedless of Chris's protests, their conversation the afternoon before had ended with Buck herding him out of the office and into his Expedition, then following Chris all the way to his house outside the park near Gardiner, Montana. Buck had stuck around for a while, being a distraction that irritated Chris, but was exactly what he needed. By the time Buck left, well after dark, Chris thought he'd be able to sleep without unwanted memories crowding him too hard.

He did, after a fashion, though his sleep was broken and troubled by dreams of Sarah and Vin and an eagle soaring in a blue sky the same shade as Vin's eyes.

He'd never been much of a believer in the idea that there were messages in dreams. Or he'd just never wanted to think about it; during his stints in the Navy and the FBI he'd seen, and dreamt about, some hellacious things. But he woke troubled and feeling as though he'd missed something, some message, in that dream.

He went to the office early, hoping to finish up some more paperwork, but after spending all of Sunday in his desk chair, he was itchy and tight and needed to get out of there for a while. So when Buck reported a bear jam on the Grand Loop Road near Blacktail Pond, he grabbed his hat and a radio and went out to help direct traffic and keep visitors away from the bear.

By the time he got there though it had cleared up, and all that was left were Buck and Josiah standing next to a Park Service truck talking with two visitors. He pulled off the road and trotted across to them. Buck nodded a greeting and Josiah said, "Good afternoon."

Buck left Josiah talking to the two men and came over to Chris. "Sorry to pull you all the way out here. We had about thirty people watching a grizzly sow with two big cubs, and it seemed like a good idea to get some backup."

Chris nodded and smiled tightly. "Don't apologize for getting me away from that desk. I needed the air."

From behind him, Josiah said, "Seems to be going around. Vin looked like he was suffocating when I gave him a ride yesterday morning."

Chris clenched his teeth and looked away, wondering where Vin was. He hadn't even looked at the itinerary JD'd handed him, just buried it under all the crap in his inbox so he didn't have to think about Vin and how badly he'd screwed up that friendship.

Josiah went on without apparently noticing Chris's distraction. "I'm more than a little worried about Brother Vin. He wasn't home for twenty-four hours from his last trek before heading out on this one. He's planning on getting back Wednesday afternoon, then we head out Thursday morning with a batch of Boy Scouts for two nights."

"He'll be back in time," Chris said, trying to bring the conversation to a close.

"That's not what I'm worried about," Josiah said, "But he can't keep going forever without a break. Normally he knows that and plans downtime into his schedule. But he's heading for two weeks without a rest day. Even the Lord couldn't do that."

Chris sharpened his voice and his gaze and said, "He knows what he's doing." He didn't want to hear this, didn't want to think about Vin right now.

Josiah shook his head sadly and said, "I don't think he knew anything when he left yesterday except that he needed to get to the wilderness. I felt like I had a caged animal in my Jeep, desperate to get set free."

Chris turned to walk back to the Park Service pickup he was driving, saying, "Looked fine to me."

Josiah's voice was deep and sad when he said, "Did you even look at him?"

And Chris had to admit to himself, if not to anyone else, that he hadn't really looked at Vin in his doorway the morning before, hadn't seen him. He'd been blinded by a shock of hard wanting, remembering what he looked like naked in the moonlight.

He waved goodbye without another word and drove back to the station.

Monday, 7:30 pm

"You fellas need some help?" Vin asked, as he approached a pair of young men who were struggling to set up their tent.

One of them, tall and light haired with a fierce pride in his features, looked like he was going to say no, though it was obvious from the frustration on both their faces that they'd been trying for a while with no luck. Before he could, though, his friend, shorter and gentler looking, but not at all soft, said, "Yeah, we borrowed this tent from a friend and we can't figure out how to set it up."

Vin shrugged off his pack and propped his stick against it, then said, "Well, I reckon I can help you work this thing out. First off, though, I ought to check your permits."

He was relieved when they pulled out their backcountry permits, he wasn't in the mood for a confrontation about that. Wasn't in the mood for much of anything but walking and letting the sights and sounds and smells seep into him and try and work out the knot of hurting in his chest.

It wasn't working, but he was trying not to think about that.

Trying not to think about what he'd have to do if he walked back into Mammoth still hurting, still wanting Chris.

He handed the men back their permits and said, "Okay, what've you got here?"

It only took Vin about a minute to realize that the tent was never going to go up. Whoever'd loaned it to them had mixed together pieces from at least two different tents, so they had the wrong kinds of tent poles and a mismatched fly. Not nearly enough tent pegs for all the guy lines, and who the hell used a tent with guy lines these days, anyway?

Convincing the guys, Ted and Jack, took another five minutes. Ted, the good natured one, accepted his words fairly quickly, but Jack, lean and hard and with an edge about him that Vin found reminded him of Larabee, even though the two men looked nothing at all alike, took some convincing. "Look," Vin finally said, "This thing needs narrow tent poles, probably segmented fiberglass." He slipped the tip of his finger into the casing that the poles were supposed to slide in to. "What you've got here," he picked up an 18 inch long segment of hollow aluminum, "won't work with that. That don't even touch on the other problems you've got with this thing, but it's the one that'll keep it from going up."

Jack kicked one of the tent poles and sent it skittering into the sagebrush. Vin looked at him with narrowed eyes then, when Jack stalked over to retrieve it, long hair catching the evening breeze, said, "I've got a spare tent if you fellas want to borrow it."

Ted smiled and nodded, but looked to Jack for confirmation. Jack studied Vin for a bit then said, "Need a deposit or something?"

Vin smiled and shook his head, saying, "On-the-trail equipment rental ain't one of the services we provide here. But I happen to have a tent that I wasn't plannin' on using tonight and you're welcome to borrow it if you want."

Still looking skeptical, Jack asked, "How will we get it back to you?"

Vin took a small notepad and a pencil out of his pocket and wrote for a second. "When you get back to Mammoth, go to the Visitor Center and leave the tent there. Tell the person at the desk it's for Ranger Vin Tanner." He looked up, tearing off the page and handing it to Jack.

"We're planning on staying out for two nights, so we won't get it back until Wednesday," Jack said, the hardness in his stance softening a little.

"That's fine. I'd like to have it back by Thursday, 's all, if you can manage that," Vin said, pulling the tent out of the top of his backpack. Truth to tell he wasn't carrying a second tent, he couldn't possibly carry two and have all the essentials of his gear, but he liked sleeping under the stars most nights and wasn't planning on using it unless it got very cold anyway.

He showed them how to set up the tent and take it down and reminded them that they needed to pack out the dead one. As he was swinging his pack onto his back, preparing to leave, Jack said, "Don't you want our names and addresses or something? So you can track us down if we keep your tent?"

Vin shrugged. "You plannin' on doing that?"

Jack looked away then back with a broad smile and just said, "Nope. We'll drop it off on Wednesday." His smile was warm and sweet. With a shadow falling across his face obscuring the details of his features, it was almost possible for Vin to believe he was looking at Chris Larabee as a young man, beautiful and proud and strong. Vin was hit with a wave of desire so strong he almost reeled. Not for the young man in front of him, but for Chris, older, sadder and infinitely more attractive.

He turned away before either of them could read anything in his expression and waved goodbye as he walked off, saying, "Be careful out here."

He hoped JD had gotten those transfer forms he'd asked for. He'd been gone a day and a half and there was no sign of his heart, or his body, forgetting Chris.

Tuesday, 8:57 am

Chris held open the door for the UPS delivery man, struggling with a sizeable box and the heavy door to the Visitor Center. When he got to the counter, the man slid the box onto it then turned to Nathan, sitting behind the counter reading a medical textbook. "Delivery's for a Vin Tanner. Can you sign for it?"

Nathan was standing as Chris said, "I got it." The UPS man turned to him, handing him the stylus and electronic pad. As soon as Chris signed, he took them back, waved and ran out the door. Hard to imagine he was already running late, so early in the morning, but maybe that was how he stayed on time.

Chris nodded a silent good morning to Nathan as he picked up the box to put it on Vin's desk, wanting to be even that little bit near him, and cursing himself for giving into the desire.

He'd spent half the night staring at a bottle of whiskey, strong enough not to drink any of it, but not strong enough to put it away, and some time long after midnight he'd finally been hit by the truth, or at least some of it. One of the more painful lessons he'd learned in three years as a widower, was that there never seemed to be an end to his anger and his grief. They just went on and on, down and down, coat after coat after coat, like scraping paint off an old table. He'd known for years that he was angry at the bastards who'd murdered his wife and son. Angry at the police detectives and FBI agents who'd worked the case without ever finding the people who did it. Angry at himself for not being there to die with them. He'd carried that anger around with him for years, almost as easily as he carried his car keys and wallet. Just as much a part of his everyday gear. It was so familiar he'd almost stopped noticing it.

The first of last night's unwelcome revelations had been that that particular rage was fading into the background, losing its place as the driving force in his life. He found something new to live for in a pair of deep blue eyes, in a man who'd brought back that part of his soul that he thought died with Sarah and Adam. And, Jesus, that made him furious. He wasn't sure he was ready to start living again.

Mostly, though, he was angry at himself, and it had taken an agonizing night of soul searching, without the benefit of whiskey to ease the pain, to realize the truth of that. He was angry that he hadn't stayed away from Vin. Angrier, maybe, that he'd left the way he did, though he was still unwilling to accept that. Unwilling to accept that he should have stayed. That maybe if he stepped off that cliff he'd be able to fly after all.

He clenched his jaw against all of this unwelcome introspection. Damn it, bad enough that he couldn't get away from this shit in the middle of the night when there was nothing useful to keep his mind occupied, during the goddamn day he had other stuff to think about. Important things like schedules and trail maintenance and visitors to keep safe. He blew out a breath and tried to force himself to relax a little.

He dropped the box on Vin's desk, and the breeze generated blew a few loose papers to the floor. Vin generally didn't leave papers on his desk when he was on the trail, aside from a spare copy of his itinerary in case the ones that he filed with the information desk and with Chris got lost. But that was trapped under the corner of the box. Chris bent down to pick up the scattered sheets and couldn't help but look at them as he did so.

Internal transfer forms. Two sets. JD'd printed a name and phone number on each of them in his sprawling print. Chris recognized one of the names as his counterpart at Old Faithful Ranger Station. The other person he thought was from the Lake Area Ranger Station, but he wasn't sure.

He felt the world swing around him, turning his stomach. Vin couldn't be planning to...he looked again at the papers, remembered Vin asking JD to get those forms for him. "Damn it," he swore, not realizing how loudly he'd shouted until Nathan stuck his head into the back from the public part of the Visitor Center and just stared at him disapprovingly. Chris shoved the papers into his pants pocket, heedless of how they got crumpled and grabbed Vin's itinerary from under the big box, saying, "Tell Buck to mind the store, I've got to go."

Nathan backed away from the door, asking, "Everything okay? Is it a problem with Vin? You need me to call him?"

"No," Chris said, voice hard. "Don't do that. I'll take care of it." He stopped to take his radio from the charger and then was out the door, calling Nathan for a radio check as he ran to his truck.

Vin couldn't leave. Shouldn't have to. Wouldn't, if Chris had anything to say about it.

Tuesday, 2:30 pm

God, Vin was never this tired after just a couple of days on the trail. It felt like he was wearing lead on his feet rather than his hiking boots. Though, really, it wasn't the weight of his feet that was the problem, but the weight of his heart, heavy in his chest. That heavy weight hadn't eased a bit while he'd been gone, just pulled him down until he was aching with exhaustion despite the feel of the sun on his skin and the breeze in his hair. Normally those things gave him strength, grounded him in the solid reality of survival, getting along by his own strength and wits. Life in town, where everything was so easy, usually felt like an escape from the real world of the sagebrush flats and pine forests.

Somehow his life had gotten all turned around now, and here he was up on Sepulcher Mountain trying to get away from what lay waiting for him down in Mammoth. Unbidden, his memory offered him a vision of Chris, smiling at him as they directed traffic around a bear jam, his hair glowing like autumn's ripe wheat and his green eyes carrying all the promise of spring. It was only a couple of weeks after Vin'd come to Yellowstone, the first really busy weekend of the year, and it was that smile, confident and assured, that had tied his heart to Chris. He stuck his hand in his pocket and stroked his fingers over the metal insignia he carried.

He pulled it out and stared at it. No way he was going to forget Chris if he carried around a reminder of him. When he got back he'd return it somehow. Wouldn't want any reminders when he'd moved on. He snorted, hell, maybe he'd want them, but it wouldn't change anything if he had one or not. His heart would forget in its own time.

He dropped the insignia back in his pocket and took his old, battered harmonica from his shirt pocket. He could remember the story he told people about it, that it was a gift from his mother when he turned five, and she told him to play it when he wanted to think of her. She'd died right after. He always carried it with him, even on long hikes where every fraction of an ounce counted and he'd cut the tags out of his shirts and underwear to save weight, but he hardly ever played it anymore. He couldn't remember her anyway. All he could remember now was the story, not her face or her voice or the color of her hair. He hadn't been ready to forget, but the memories had all faded away despite that.

He figured that with Chris it would go the other way, he'd remember everything, his smile, his voice, the smell of his skin, the strength of his kiss, and he'd keep on remembering it in agonizing detail long after he was desperate to forget.

The harsh cry of a scrub jay called his attention back to the moment and he looked around him, dropping the harmonica back into his pocket. He'd passed from sagebrush meadow into loose forest without noticing. He rubbed his forehead and rounded a turning in the trail and caught sight of Chris Larabee, sitting on a log, reading some papers he held in his hand. He shook his head, convinced for a second that he'd summoned Chris up with his thoughts, that he was looking at a figment of his imagination, not a real man.

After he got his wits back, he had maybe fifteen seconds in which he could have turned around, or slipped down the side trail toward the Beaver Ponds, and avoided him. Fifteen seconds before Chris looked up and saw him, a ghost of a smile crossing his face for a heartbeat before disappearing into a neutral expression.

Chris rose to his feet and waited while Vin crossed the fifty or so feet to him and stopped a few feet away with his arms crossed across his chest, holding in the ache that wanted to scream out at the sight of him.

After a second, Chris thrust the papers toward Vin and asked, "What are you doing, Tanner?" His voice was strained, but Vin couldn't quite make out what he heard in it. Anger maybe.

Vin ignored the papers and answered the question, voice clipped, "My job." He looked at Chris then around them at the trees and said, "Why ain't you doing yours?"

"Damn it, these are transfer papers. Why?" Chris asked, shaking the crumpled pages at him.

Vin sighed and took the sheets, smoothing them out as much as possible with his hands, though it was obviously hopeless. "I'm thinking it's time for me to roll on..." he said, looking into the woods. "Other places in the park to see. I hear the bison in the geyser basins are something special in the winter."

"Vin," Chris said, reaching for him, then pulling his hand away before he made contact. Vin, seeing this out of the corner of his eye, turned farther away, the hurt of that little rejection almost as great as what he'd been carrying around. "This isn't what I wanted..."

Vin shrugged, wrapping his arms around his chest again, transfer papers held tightly in one hand. With a deep breath, he shoved his emotions down deep and painted his face with the stoicism that his grandfather had taught him with a slap the first moment he'd arrived at the reservation as a lonely, frightened orphan in a world of strangers. All he had to count on was his own strength and it would be enough, just as it had been then. It would have to be. He turned around to face Chris, saying, "Guess you got what you wanted before you left my place."

His expression must have been more forbidding than he thought, because Chris leaned away from him, then said, "I don't know what I wanted that night. Wanted not to think about Sarah."

Vin nodded sharply and blinked once, startled to hear how little their encouter'd meant to Chris said so plain. He kept his eyes straight ahead, not looking at Chris's face, as he said, "If I'd known that was all you was after, it wouldn't have happened. Didn't never intend to get used like that."

Chris winced. "That's not all it turned out to be. It was so much more than I meant for it to be."

Vin snorted, his emotions a confusing tangle in his heart. "Thought you was just getting your rocks off and found out that you actually liked fucking a man? That what made you get out of there so fast?"

"No," Chris said, nearly shouting. "No. Jesus, do you know how many people I've fucked since Sarah died? Prostitutes in Nevada, barflies in Phoenix, tourists here in Mammoth? Got to be twenty or thirty. Men and women both." Vin blinked but said nothing and Chris went on. "Every single time I was using sweat and heat and skin to make myself forget Sarah. And it never once worked. Even with the men, I was thinking about her. Every fucking time."

Vin rubbed his forehead but couldn't think of a single damned thing to say to that, at least not anything that he was willing to admit to. He turned to walk away, but Chris's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"I wasn't thinking about her when I was with you, Vin," Chris said, and his voice was serious.

Without turning around, Vin said, his voice choked with bitterness, "Least it worked for you, cowboy. But next time you need to forget, find someone else. I ain't up for that." He started to walk away, saying, "I'll get the transfer papers to you before I leave on Thursday. You gonna sign off on the request?"

"God damn it, no I won't," Chris snapped. "I ain't letting you leave."

Vin stopped in his tracks; he hadn't figured Chris for the type to trash another man's career over something like this. Must have been wrong about that too. Fucking idiot. "Can't stop me going, Chris. I'll quit the Park Service and get another job if I got to. Not gonna stay here. Can't." He bit off his words, his control of both his voice and his emotions breaking. He closed his eyes for a few seconds until it was all back under wraps.

"Would you just turn around and look at me," Chris said, with a hint of exasperation in his voice. "I'm not saying this right and you're not hearing it right. And I need you to understand."

For a few seconds, Vin toyed with the idea of walking away without looking at Chris. Hell, he could avoid the man for a few weeks while he gave notice and got ready to go. Never had to see him again. But his own heart screamed at that prospect, so he slowly turned around, keeping his eyes cast down. Chris was right next to him, closer than he'd realized, and he rested one hand on Vin's arms, still crossed over his heart. Vin looked up, slowly, and met Chris's eyes.

He was surprised that the feeling of recognition he'd always found in Chris's eyes was still there. All he'd ever wanted, someone to belong with, someone he could count on and could count on him, someone to love, he could see it all there in Chris's eyes. Surely all of this should have killed that feeling. If Chris didn't feel the same way, then what he was seeing was a dream, not reality. And there weren't no point in putting stock in dreams that were never going to come true. He closed his eyes to hide emotions that wouldn't stay wrapped up and buried.

"Don't," Chris said, his voice as soft as his fingertips on Vin's cheek. "Don't hide from me, Vin." He brushed his thumb over Vin's eyebrow.

Vin jerked away and opened his eyes, looking at where Chris's other hand still rested on his crossed arms. "I don't know how to make this more clear for you, Larabee. I ain't never gonna be a fuck buddy, ain't never gonna be someone you come to when the memories and the grief are too hard to bear. That's not what I want of you and I won't settle for it." Why wouldn't Chris just let this go? Let him go?

"That's not what I want either," Chris said, squeezing Vin's arm to emphasize his words.

Vin looked up then, scanning Chris's face for a clue as to what he meant. "You're talking in circles," he said, finally, when he gave up on trying to interpret Chris's expression.

Chris chuffed a breath of laugh as he shook his head. "Reckon I am," he said, resting his free hand on Vin's shoulder, fingers curling around the back of his neck. "When I went to your place on Saturday night, I wanted to forget. Just for a while." Vin winced, but Chris firmed his grip and caught his eyes and kept him from looking away. "Didn't plan on making love with you." He stepped forward into Vin's space, until Vin could feel Chris's energy mingling with his own. Chris sighed and said, "I've been dead for so long, I got used to it. Hard to live again after that."

Vin blinked at the change of subject, but said, "Do more honor to your wife and boy by living for them than by dying for them. I'm surprised you ain't figured that out yet."

Chris laughed for real then, and moved his hand from Vin's arm to his shoulder. "I didn't have anything to live for until I met you. Kinda got used to that too."

Vin looked again into Chris's eyes, into the reality of that shared feeling, and knew his own were asking a question that he couldn't voice. Chris nodded and Vin relaxed a little, uncrossing his arms and leaning his hiking stick against one hip, but he still held himself back against the gentle pressure that would have pulled him into a hug. "I need us to be real clear here, Chris. If you run out on me again, I'm gone. I ain't just playing with you and I won't take you playing with me. Not again."

Chris nodded again and his eyes were sad. "I know. I'm not playing either. And I won't run out again."

Chris slid his hands over Vin's shoulders, tugging at the straps of his pack, until Vin released the waist belt and let Chris help him set it on the ground with his stick propped against it. Somehow that felt almost as intimate to him as when Chris had stripped him in his camper. Like Chris was taking away his ability to escape if he needed to. Though wasn't that what Chris had just told him, no running out. Not for either of them. Uncertain, Vin looked into Chris's eyes and saw a promise there, a tie between them more real than words.

He swallowed hard and nodded and stepped into Chris's arms and wondered why it felt like flying.

Vin gave himself up to Chris's taste, dark and smoky and hot, and the feel of his skin, smooth and velvet. With every moment the kiss lasted, Vin moved more and more into Chris until they were plastered together along their whole bodies. Vin was moaning deep in his throat as he explored Chris's mouth with his tongue and his hands roved over Chris's back, gripping his ass for a second then sliding up to wrap around his shoulders and pull their kiss a little bit deeper, then back down again.

Before he could lose himself entirely in the moment, Vin stepped away, licking his lips. Chris's eyes darkened as he did so and Vin licked again, just to feel the heat of Chris's stare. When Chris reached to pull him close again, Vin held up his hand and said, "This trail's kinda popular, cowboy. Not a good place for us to be carrying on like this."

Chris took his hand and said with a growl, "Bet you know some place around here that would be private."

"I know a place that ain't more than two hours away with a bed and beer and no flies biting our asses," Vin said, a smile tugging at his lips.

Chris grinned, then said, "The way I'm feeling, two hours is a long time to wait."

The look on his face and heat in his voice almost had Vin agreeing to find them a cave or a bush or just damned near anyplace, so he was grateful when his radio squawked and Josiah greeted him, "702 this is MR90 Base. What's your 20?"

After returning the greeting, Vin said, "Near the junction of the Sepulcher Mountain and Beaver Pond trails."

"Good, we have a report that a kid is stuck in a tree up near the Beaver Ponds, can you handle it?" At Josiah's words, Chris picked up Vin's backpack and held it up so Vin could put it on more easily.

"Yeah. And Josiah, I'm going to head back in tonight, so can you make a note that I'm canceling the last day of my itinerary?" Vin said, taking the weight onto his shoulders. He handed Chris the radio so he could fasten his waist belt.

"Pleased to hear it, brother," Josiah said. "MR90 Base clear."

Vin took the radio back from Chris to sign off, then clipped it to the outside of his pack. "Guess we'll be lucky if we get to that bed in two hours," he said, looking at Chris out of the corner of his eye. "Give you some time to change your mind, if you're gonna."

Chris stepped in and kissed Vin deep and hard and said, "Won't happen, Tanner."

Vin nodded and stepped away, walking slowly down the trail for a couple of paces until Chris fell in beside him.

Tuesday, 9:08 pm

Chris sat on the bed in Vin's camper, slowly drinking a beer and waiting without much patience for Vin to take a shower at the campground's shared shower facility. It had taken a couple of hours to get the child out of the tree and return him to his parents, who'd been nearly hysterical with fear. After that, Chris had been all for going straight to his place or to the camper and picking up where they'd left off on the trail. Hell, he'd have taken a room in the hotel if it would have gotten him naked with Vin sooner, but Vin had insisted on escorting the family to the clinic so the child could be checked out, then going to the station to fill out an incident report. After that he'd needed dinner, to keep his strength up, he'd said.

And now he was taking a shower.

Roadblocks and delays, and Vin kept putting them there. Why? It wasn't like he'd changed his mind about wanting Chris, that was obvious from the way he kept looking, watching with dark eyes, whenever he could spare a second. Obvious from the way he'd move close, right up behind or next to Chris, until his scent, sweaty and rich but not unpleasant, filled Chris's awareness. But something still had him scared, nervous. When Chris caught him looking he'd look away or drop his eyes. When he got too close, he'd jerk back.

Rubbing his forehead, Chris took another long pull on his beer then stood up and toed off his boots and socks. While he was standing, he took off his shirt and undershirt, leaving his pants on but his belt unbuckled. He wondered for a second if he should take a shower himself, but wasn't about to allow another delay. Wasn't going to be gone when Vin got back.

He had just settled back down on the bed, when Vin walked in wearing nothing but a softly clinging pair of knit shorts, a towel draped around his neck. Chris's cock started to stir at the sight of the tanned body, lean and sinewy. He adjusted himself in his pants, stroking himself slightly as he pulled his hand away.

Vin gasped softly at the sight and shut the door behind him, so that all the light in the camper was filtered through the thin curtains, and dropped his shower kit on the table, saying, "See you found the beer."

Chris took the last swallow of it and set the bottle into the sink which was right next to him. "Found the bed too," he said, patting the mattress next to him in invitation.

Vin nodded and slipped the towel off his shoulders. As he hung it carefully on a rack, he said, quietly, "Got a fresh towel if you want a shower, cowboy. Kind of sweaty out there today."

Chris rose to his feet and walked to him, wrapping his arms around Vin's waist and pulling him back against his chest. "I don't want a shower, Vin. I just want to make love with you."

Vin ducked his head, but leaned against Chris, crossing his arms over Chris's and holding him close. "That what this is going to be?" he asked, voice so soft that even as close as they were, Chris barely heard it.

Hands gentle, Chris turned Vin around without ever losing the skin contact between them. He kissed Vin soft and quick, just a brush of lips really, and said, "The way I'm feeling, it can't be anything else. You?"

Vin blew out a hard breath then said, "I feel the same. Always have. I just want you to be sure."

Chris slid his hands around to cup the back of Vin's neck, stroking the soft hairs there. "I'm sure. Sure as I've been about anything in a long time." Before Vin could respond, Chris kissed him again, harder this time, licking Vin's mouth open, then exploring deeply.

Vin sighed into his mouth and caressed Chris's tongue with his own until they both moaned with the pleasure. And something in that kiss, in the moan, in the way their bodies molded together, broke Vin's resistance entirely and he returned the kiss with hungry passion. His hands moved over Chris's bare torso like fire, finding sensitive places on Chris's back and sides that he'd never known existed before, thumbing his nipples into hard peaks.

Without ever breaking the kiss, he herded Chris backwards until they fell onto the bed. Chris took advantage of the slight surprise of that and rolled them over so that he was leaning over Vin, looking down into his eyes, huge and sparkling like clear water in the moonlight. Chris kissed him again, more gently, and said, "I could look at you like this all night."

Even in the dim light, Chris could see the blush stain Vin's cheeks, but, aside from a whispered, "Ah, hell," his only response was to slide one long finger along the edge of Chris's pants, caressing the hidden skin. Chris moaned again and his cock lengthened still more, his pants tightening uncomfortably. Vin looked down, and licked his lips slowly, so slowly that Chris could almost imagine feeling that tongue on his skin, then said, his voice deep and husky with arousal, "Take 'em off."

Chris nodded and rolled onto his back, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, sighing in relief at the release of pressure as the tight denim was opened. Before he slid them off though, Vin's hand was there, tracing his length through the soft fabric of his briefs. His cock was so hard and long now that the head of it, dark red and shining, poked out under the elastic waistband. Vin, eyes fixed on the sight, slid down Chris's body, groaning deep in his throat. His eyelids fluttered as he lowered his head to lick across the slit. Chris could barely control the reflexive snap of his hips but somehow managed to turn it into a soft nudge against Vin's lips.

Vin licked again, drawing another noise from both of them, then looked up to Chris as he slid his hands to the waistband of his pants. Chris nodded and Vin slid off the bed and pulled off Chris's pants and briefs, dropping them into one heap on the floor. His eyes were huge and sparkling with hunger and he went back to Chris's cock like he'd been starved for it, licking and sucking hungrily, eyes closed.

Chris rode the pleasure as Vin's mouth stretched open to take him in, cheeks hollowed and shadowed as he swallowed. Vin pulled back with a flutter of his tongue that burned away everything but sensation, drawing a groan. Then Vin opened his eyes and their gazes locked and Chris could feel the connection burning through him like a living fire and he erupted, dropping his hands to Vin's head as he shouted his release.

He was still buzzing from it, burning inside and breathing hard, when Vin gave one last lick to his soft and sensitive cock and rested his head on Chris's hip. With clumsy, shaking hands, Chris reached for him and tugged weakly for him to come closer. Vin did so, crawling between Chris and the wall. His eyes were bright and his lips wet.

Chris rolled them so that Vin was on his back and Chris on his side over him. The taste of his seed in Vin's mouth was good, too good, and Chris licked into Vin's mouth to get more of it. Vin opened to him, inviting Chris's tongue in.

As they kissed, Chris teased one of Vin's nipples until Vin made a frustrated sound and moved Chris's hand down to his cock, groaning in pleasure when Chris pressed his hand against it. Vin turned his head just far enough away to say, "Jesus, Chris. So close." He held Chris's hand in place and began to thrust into it, moving faster and faster, his eyes squeezed closed. Chris could feel in the jerkiness of his movement and the harshness of his breathing that Vin really was at the edge, brought there just by giving pleasure to Chris. Chris's heart jumped and he kissed Vin more deeply, even as he eased his grip.

Chris moved his hand away from Vin's cock, hot even through the fabric, fighting the resistance Vin put up, and slid Vin's shorts down his hips and over his ass, just far enough that he could reach him without the barrier between them. Vin grunted hard, biting his lip for control, at the touch of skin on skin. But Chris didn't want him in control, Chris wanted him as overwhelmed as he'd been. So he licked his hand to slick the way, the move so quick that Vin barely had time to grunt before Chris had his hand back on Vin's cock, gripping more firmly, stroking with a steady driving rhythm. He added a twist to the end of one stroke, his fingers swirling over the head, and whispered, "Look at me, Vin."

Vin's orgasm started as soon as his eyes found Chris's, Chris could feel it in the pulsing of the cock in his hand, but even more he could see it in the blue eyes that were locked on his. He wasn't hard, wouldn't get hard again for hours he figured, but he still soared on a surge of pleasure that blew through through his body as he watched Vin coming.

Chris would have stayed like that, staring into Vin's eyes, forever, but after too few minutes Vin flushed and lowered them. Before he even got the thought to pull away, Chris wrapped and arm and a leg over him and tucked him in close, where he belonged, and held on tight.

Wednesday, 5:45 pm

Vin woke to an empty bed.

He pounded his fist into the mattress, then again into his thigh, as he felt something inside him shatter into a million pieces and blow away on the wind he could hear outside the Airstream. He'd trusted Chris and now...he looked around at the empty camper.

Fuck.

He pushed himself to his feet and looked out the window over the sink. Not yet sunrise, but the sky was lightening. If he moved fast he could be gone by the time the day had really started. Back to the rez, maybe. No one there liked him much, but they couldn't keep him out and he could live off the land in the mountains.

He was still just staring out the window, not seeing anything at all, when behind him the door opened.

He whirled around, reaching for his hiking stick propped in the corner, and saw Chris, wearing his pants and nothing else, standing in the half open doorway with his hands held up. "Didn't mean to startle you. I thought you'd still be asleep," he said, stepping inside and closing the door.

Vin moved to the other side of the camper and leaned against the dinette table, wishing for the first time that the Airstream was twice as long so he could get further away. "Forget something?" he asked, and wondered that his voice sounded so calm when his insides were a storm.

"No," Chris said, forehead creased. "Was kind of hoping you'd still be in bed when I got back." He stepped toward Vin, who leaned back. "Just went to take a leak." He took another step then stopped. "Oh, shit. You thought I...."

Vin nodded, not trusting his voice. Without ever seeming to cross the space between them, Chris was instantly there, arms around Vin's waist, kissing him deeply until Vin's muscles lost some of their tension. The kiss ended with Chris mumbling words into Vin's hair, half-heard and indistinct. Somewhere in all of it Vin thought he heard the word "love" but he wasn't entirely sure and he didn't want to ask.

Vin wasn't aware he was shivering until Chris pulled him back to the bed and curled up around his back, wrapping them both in the soft, worn quilt. When they'd settled and the warmth was creeping in and driving out the cold in his chest, Vin said, "Thanks. For coming back."

Chris kissed the back of his neck and said, "I didn't leave. I won't."

Vin pressed back against Chris's chest and absorbed the comfort. His soul was telling him to trust in Chris, trust what they had, despite a lifetime of disappointment and loss. But he couldn't figure out how to make his heart and body comply. No way to will trust. Like the fading of memory, it would happen in its own time. He was distracted from his thoughts by Chris kissing the back of his neck again, then saying, "Time for us both to look forward instead of back, Vin. I'm not leaving. And I won't let you go."

Vin breathed deep and sighed, holding on to the contentment of the moment. Time to look forward and not back. He let himself drift into sleep, rocking on Chris's heartbeat.

End

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