Conjured Affection
Warnings: issues of consent, sex and persuasion
For Conjured: probably not quite what you had in mind, but it's me - did you really expect aught else? Betaed by the ever-wonderful Annie and Dail (who probably denies any association with this venture and still can't get the stink off her hands. Your own personal skunk - now you know how Ezra feels!)
They weren't bad injuries, certainly not as bad as they should have been. 'Damned lucky' was what Nathan called it, no broken bones, no lost fingers - the fact that Vin's hands were still attached to his wrists seemed a wonder.But one was his working hand, the one he used to draw and aim his rifle, the one that drew his knife - the one that protected him. Right now, it was bandaged so tightly that he couldn't bend his fingers, could barely see the tips of them. His left hand wasn't as bad; he'd been holding the barrel of the gun when it back-blew, so most of the damage had been done to its palm and thumb. It was bandaged, but he could move the fingers a little, except for his thumb which was completely wrapped.
"Goddamn Conklin," Vin muttered under his breath, "him and his new rifles - don't even check 'em before he puts 'em out to be tested - probably why he puts 'em out, so somebody else can get hurt."
Ezra watched Vin as he tried to tie off his sleeping roll, his face set hard in annoyance. It didn't seem a wise time to interrupt the man, but then again, he couldn't shoot Ezra, not in this current condition.
"What you want? Come to tell me what a fool I was to let Conklin talk me into testing his new rifle for him?" Tanner snarled as Ezra strolled onto the boardwalk, his hands in his pockets.
It was a temptation, but Ezra thought that Vin hardly needed his agreement at this moment. "I would offer to assist - to give you a hand, as it were, but I'd prefer for mine to remain intact."
"Fuck off," Vin spat, still struggling with the ties.
Ezra leaned against the railing, watching as Tanner became more frustrated. After a while, he asked, "Would it not be safer for you to remain here in town during your convalescence?"
Vin didn't look at him, his jaw set as he answered through his teeth, "Don't rightly see how. Can't shoot, can't fight - hell, can't hardly aim when I piss, much less any other way."
"And you feel it advisable to forsake the protection of the town to venture out on your own into the wilds?" Ezra asked, tilting his head to block the noon-sun from his eyes.
Vin cursed as the ties scattered from his control and the bedroll bounced along his horse's hindquarters before dropping to the dusty ground. "Damnation!" he spat, but he controlled his tone as he said gruffly, "More people here, means more chances for someone to draw on me or try to get to me. At least if I'm away, I can hear somebody coming. Might have a better chance to hide."
Ezra pushed himself into a stand, then walked casually in front of the hitching post where Vin's horse was tied. He didn't offer to help, certain that any attempt would be met with the full force of Vin's fury and frustration.
Instead, he asked calmly, "What exactly is it that you would like for me to pass along to Mr. Larabee when he and Mr. Sanchez return from their escapade in Fort Bend? That you trusted yourself to the elements more so than you trusted the men who have backed you for almost two years?"
Vin pulled himself back to his feet, the wayward roll loose in his arms. "Ain't about that," he rasped out, awkwardly trying to roll the blankets back into order. "Y'all got enough to do without me being in the way."
"And I'm quite certain that that is how we all perceive this situation - your handicap has made you utterly worthless to the protection of this town, and in addition, you are now a veritable liability to us poor men who can barely manage to keep in advance of trouble." He had intended it to be sarcastic, but as the words tumbled out, he found himself growing more irritated, the idea coming closer to home than he liked.
Vin stilled, whether at the words or the tone, Ezra didn't know. It hardly mattered; the truth of it was between them now, that Vin trusted none of them to keep him safe and would rather take himself alone and defenseless into the wild than stay in town.
Or perhaps, the little voice Ezra was hearing more and more these days, Vin didn't trust that one of these men wouldn't take advantage of his inability and sell him out for the bounty? After all this time could Vin honestly worry about that?
"It ain't you," Vin said, his voice strained. "Just don't feel right leaving you boys with the town and everything else, then me on top of it all. Can't have one of you following me around all the time to make sure nobody's gunning for me - you can't do that and take care of everything else."
"I was under the impression that your eyes still functioned, formidable as they are. And your ears as well. Your plan to leave what protection you have does give me some concern about the functions of your mind, however. But the point is that even without the use of your gun, you still have skills that are valuable to us. And despite what you think, there are those of us as capable as Mr. Larabee, albeit in different ways."
Vin sighed then, shaking his head. "It ain't about that - "
"Then what selfish thing is it that makes you so determined to cause friction between Mr. Larabee and Mr. Sanchez, and those of us left to explain to them why you chose to abandon us and to make off into the wilds with little way of protecting yourself?"
He stood, watching as Vin shifted, tried once more to tie the bedroll, then sighed before letting it drop back to the ground. Softly, so that Ezra had to strain to hear him, he said quietly, "Told you already. I can't . . . I can't hardly aim to piss. Sure as hell can't get myself back together after."
It wasn't what he had expected. And it shouldn't have been funny - Ezra couldn't imagine the embarrassment were it his problem.
But something about the thought of Vin Tanner being concerned about appearances, about being unable to take care of his personal needs and the thought of it embarrassing him . . .
He managed not to smile, managed even not to laugh.
But the snort he gave couldn't be passed off as a cough, and Tanner cursed again, trying to grab his horse's reins.
Unable to bend his fingers, the leather straps slid away. The horse was too well-behaved to run, but it did toss its head and step back, Vin's temper making it nervous.
For a spare second, Ezra expected a complete demonstration of temper, a fit of destruction if nothing else. But even as the idea blossomed in his mind, he knew he was confusing his men; Chris Larabee might behave in such a way, feeling nothing but fury for his helplessness.
Vin Tanner - Vin Tanner would not. He was angry, furious even, so much so that he was shaking with rage.
But it wasn't at his horse, and he wouldn't hurt the animal. No more so than he would hurt someone for whom he cared.
He spun away, turning his back on the animal and the items it carried. He stalked across the roadway, his arms jerking as if he were trying to rub away the bandages.
Ezra started to follow, but caught himself. Instead, he called out loudly, "You'd rather get yourself killed than ask for help from a friend?"
Vin didn't say anything, just walking on. But Ezra noticed that he faltered a pace, his shoulder slumping just a little.
He shook his head, but turned and headed back into the saloon. Inez didn't say a word when he asked her for a bottle of whiskey, one shot glass, and one empty beer mug.
*&*&*&*&*&*&
Ezra was surprised at how long it took. He had almost given up and allowed Inez to have the mug, allowing himself to start a card game as dusk settled and the evening trade picked up. He had eaten later than usual, anticipating Vin's return until he was afraid that he would lose out on the tamales Inez had prepared, and then when Vin still hadn't shown up, he had allowed himself to consider other diversions.
He was well into a winning pot when the injured man slipped into the room, making his way carefully through the somewhat large clientele toward the bar.
Not for the first time, Ezra was thankful for the mirror that ran along the wall. It was somewhat easy for him to watch Vin without being overt. Inez greeted him with concern and affection, their friendship running deeper than most Ezra had seen involving either the Mexican woman or Tanner himself. At times, he wondered if there was something between them other than friendship and a few commonalities that came from being born and raised in close geography, but he had decided that the affection they shared was more that of siblings than lovers.
No, the more he watched, the more he believed that Mr. Tanner's heart belonged in one place, and that place - that place was not in residence at the moment. It was off in Eagle Bend, probably holed up in a saloon, drinking and flirting and thinking not a thing about the man left behind. Ezra suspected that the man who held Vin Tanner's heart had little regard for that treasure.
Shame, really, as Mr. Tanner was certainly - well, not anything Ezra would normally even consider. But there was something about a man who needed help to touch himself.
Something about man who was usually so independent, so self-controlled, so proud.
And Vin Tanner was that. Proud. Oh, it wasn't in the same way that Chris Larabee was, with all that self-assurance dripping off of him as though the others around him were helpful but not completely necessary.
Tanner was proud in his own way, unwilling to ask for help or counsel or even the time of day. Granted, he had asked Ezra once, and in a moment of drunken stupidity, Ezra had made the mistake of mocking him. It had been a gross tactical error on his part, and one for which he had not forgiven himself. Nor, it seemed had Vin Tanner, plain-spoken poet.
So now, when Vin needed help and support, Tanner didn't trust that he could ask for it.
And simultaneously, Ezra was quite drawn to the opportunity to give it to him. Wanted to give it to him.
Wanted that control, but also wanted to touch the other man. It was small town, there were few opportunities for a man who wanted another man to share his affection. In other situations, he might have made an earlier attempt to draw Vin's attention. But Vin was so enamored of the man who had his heart that Ezra had feared his reaction would be bad - not at the proposition but at the idea of being distracted from his pursuit of his unattainable goal.
Now, though, a collection of serendipitous events had given him not only an opportunity, but a necessity, and he knew better than to turn his back on Lady Luck when she was smiling on him.
Inez was attentive to Vin and, as Ezra had expected, helpful in her way. She did pour a beer for Vin, in a mug with a handle, so that he could slip his bound fingers between the body of the glass and the handle, and lift it to his mouth. Of course, the pressure of the full mug hurt his hand, and Ezra saw how much he tried to consume in the few seconds he was able to support the weight.
All the while, Ezra was dealing the next hand of cards, and what he thought might be the last.
Larabee and Sanchez were out of town, Nathan was - off somewhere, he thought he'd heard, working with someone who'd been injured in some throw from a horse. JD was with Casey, probably at Mrs. Well's home, leaving Buck to make the rounds in the town, which he was doing, Ezra suspected, with a great amount of distraction. There were several new women in town, women without husbands - widows and women with men unaccounted for.
Buck could not be counted on to appear anytime soon.
Leaving Vin . . . leaving Vin to his own sense of concern for the safety of the town. After all, it was him, crippled as he was, and Ezra.
Tanner was drinking again from his mug, his brow lined with concentration and, Ezra suspected, pain. He bet a dollar on his cards, knowing it would drive up the pot too quickly, but wanting that nonetheless.
As predicted, three of the players folded. To his relief, they grumbled at each other, then rose and wandered away, leaving Ezra with two others to defeat. Perfect.
Inez was talking to Vin again, and he was leaning over the bar, his long back bent. Ezra let the other two men bet, then raised - a mere quarter. Inez was distracting Vin, he had a few seconds.
They called, and by the time they did, Inez had been called away, and Ezra could tell that Vin was debating the merits of trying to lift the mug once more. Just as he was about to call, Tanner lifted it, determined, and drank down most of the contents before letting it fall back to the counter with a sort of slam. Inez was there in an instant, and Ezra raised - a dime.
One of the men fell out, but the other didn't.
Inez smiled at Vin, saying something and motioning toward his mug. Vin shook his head, and Ezra put his cards on the table, and won.
He cleared the pot with one hand, nodding to the two men as they rose, calling their goodnights. A man standing nearby gestured toward Ezra, an offer to start a new game, but Ezra declined before he had a chance to reconsider.
For a few seconds, he evaluated his options. He could collect his things and move to the bar, making the first move. But he suspected, if he waited just a short while . . .
It was almost too easy. He had his glass to his lips as Tanner drew himself up and turned, looking as though he were heading off.
Ezra took a sip, then canted his head in invitation. He would have to make the first move, he knew - that Tanner pride.
But there was also another quality to the man that Ezra appreciated: guilt. Vin didn't like to worry that he had hurt someone or left things unsettled between them. If Ezra didn't make an overture, Vin would eventually do so himself. It would only be a matter of time, something that Ezra didn't have the luxury of playing with. Not if he wanted to win this little game of his own making.
"Ezra," Vin said as he walked over to the table.
"Mr. Tanner," Ezra acknowledged with a smile. "Libation? I seem to have an excess of a passable whiskey and an extra glass - if you don't mind its size." He gestured toward the mug which sat empty beside the bottle to his left.
Vin glanced to the glass, then looked back to Ezra. "I'm sorry 'bout this afternoon. It ain't that I don't trust y'all."
Ezra shrugged. "I can appreciate your predicament," he said with a smile. "I doubt that I would be any more tolerant of my own inabilities. Would you join me?" He reached for the bottle, not looking at the other man as he poured several fingers of whiskey into the mug. It was only as he placed it to his right, in front of the empty chair there, that Vin gripped the chair's back and pulled it awkwardly out.
As he settled, Ezra lifted his own glass in a salute. "To trust. A hard-won thing, given with difficulty, earned with more."
Vin looked down at the mug in front of him, then hesitantly slipped his fingers into the space between the mug and handle and lifted it.
It was lighter than it had been full of beer, and Vin didn't look as pained as he took a sip of the whiskey.
They sat in silence for a few seconds, Vin rubbing the tips of his fingers - the only part of his hand outside of the bandages - over the smooth glass of the mug, while Ezra watched him. The noise of the bar drifted around them, loud enough to keep their silence from being too uncomfortable, but soft enough that when Ezra did speak, Vin could hear him.
"Have you discerned a plan for dealing with the more . . . personal problems of your current impairment?" He leaned forward, appreciating the way Vin's lips tightened a little and the skin along his cheekbones darkened.
"I'll manage," Vin answered, shortly, looking into his mug. His lashes were surprisingly long, Ezra noted, and picking up the dim light of the room the same way his whiskers did.
Ezra sipped again, letting his gaze drift around the room before saying, "I'm certain any one of the lovely ladies who holds court in this fine establishment would be willing to assist you for a minimal fee. After all, they do have a certain familiarity with the male anatomy."
"Reckon so," Vin shrugged, but Ezra saw the discomfort in the hunch of his shoulders. "I'll manage."
"Senorita Recillos seems especially fond of you. And I suspect that while she doesn't practice the oldest profession, she has had enough experience in the world to sympathize with your predicament - "
"I 'preciate your help, but I'll manage." The words were terse, and Vin shifted in his chair, leaning forward. "Ain't asking Inez to do that."
For a second, Ezra almost argued, almost said something to push the point.
But the look on Vin's face, coupled with the memory of that angry stride as Vin had walked away from him this afternoon, gave him pause.
He lifted his bottle, poured a little more into his glass and made the offer of more to Vin, who shook his head.
"Thanks, but don't need to let my brain get too addled. Things is hard enough without adding more reasons for my hands not to work right." He did lift the mug again, taking another sip.
"I rather suspect you're in a bit of pain at this point," Ezra said. "Perhaps the whiskey will help you sleep - you are sleeping in the boarding house, I hope?"
"Reckon so," Vin sighed. "Ain't got much choice - it's safer than staying in my wagon."
"And quite possibly more comfortable," Ezra commented dryly. "Which would seem to be beneficial given your current condition."
Vin made a face, as if he didn't like to compromise on this but didn't have a choice - which Ezra knew was the truth.
"Are you in pain?" Ezra asked bluntly.
Vin sighed. "I drank some of that willow bark tea of Nathan's. It's helping, but I reckon it's gonna be a long night." He sipped again on the whiskey and Ezra noted that he didn't seem to be concentrating as hard this time - but then, the glass was almost empty.
Ezra considered for a few seconds, then leaned closer and said, "There are other substances that might assist with controlling your pain."
Vin looked at him, then frowned. "Told you, can't let my guard down. Got enough trouble not being able to use my hands - "
"You do have others you can trust here, Vin, others who would protect you just as well as Mr. Larabee."
Vin looked away, down into the thin layer of amber at the bottom of his glass. "I know that, Ezra, it ain't that I don't trust you and Buck and JD - "
"Isn't it?" He sat back then, partly in frustration, but partly to give Vin a chance to mull the thought.
Vin sighed. "There's just things that ain't about trust so much as about, well . . . " He shifted again, uncomfortable, and Ezra almost smiled, but caught himself.
"Do you fear for your virtue, Mr. Tanner?"
Vin looked at him, his eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"
Ezra shrugged. "If Mr. Larabee were here, you would, I assume, sleep in his room - perhaps not share his bed, but he would suggest that you sleep on his floor, would he not? So that you could get as much rest as possible while being protected as much as possible, yes?" He lifted his glass and sipped, watching Vin over the rim.
Vin shifted again, looking away, so that his answer was a little unclear. It took several seconds for Ezra to piece it together. "Ain't nothing but sleeping, or trying to. No virtues to worry on."
Ezra lifted the bottle and poured more into Vin's glass, ignoring the frown of displeasure on the other man's face as he looked back. But Vin didn't say anything, letting his fingers slip back into place so that he could lift it.
"Perhaps," Ezra said with a smile, "you might like to try the comforts of the mattresses here," he said as he lifted his own glass in a toast. "I assure you that my bed is large enough for the two of us to share, and I shall sleep between you and the door, allowing you extra protection."
Vin looked at him, his head tilting slightly. "You're offering me . . ."
"I'm offering you my protection for the night, in the safety of my room. I'm offering you the comfort of my bed, even though you are also welcome to stretch out your bedroll on my floor if you're concerned about propriety." He sipped, letting Vin stew on his words, hoping he would understand all of the invitations he was offering.
Eventually, Vin sighed, but nodded, once. "If you're sure." He lifted his mug, wincing, and took a long swallow, effectively sealing the deal.
He drank more after that, finishing off that portion then, with Buck's arrival, feeling brave enough to try another mug of beer.
"I've heard of that sort of thing happening," Buck said as he dropped into a chair across from Vin and to Ezra's left, "but that's the first time I've ever seen it. Damned good thing we weren't in the middle of a robbery or some such - Mr. Conklin better be nice to you for a long damned time, Vin. If it'd been somebody else trying out the sight on that shotgun, they might have done themselves a lot more damage than you did."
"Reckon so," Vin agreed, but he sighed. "Can't believe a new gun comes in that messed up, though. I'd expect that if it was wet or the bullets was old, but that gun was in perfect shape, no rust or any other damage on it."
"Defects happen," Ezra said. "I agree with Buck - Mr. Conklin was fortunate that you opted to test the weapon for him. And you're quite fortunate that - "
"Yeah, I know," Vin cut him off, but it wasn't harsh. "Think I'll feel more fortunate when I can move my fingers again."
"Not able to move your fingers - no, you can't, can you," Buck commented, and his face took on a sort of horror that made Ezra roll his eyes.
Fortunately, it changed the course of the conversation, so that they were listening to Buck's reminiscences of being with women where his hands got him into all sorts of trouble - which Ezra had little doubt about.
From there, Buck's attention turned to getting into more of that trouble, as one of the ladies who frequented the saloon appeared to want company, and with a casual nod to Vin and Ezra, he wandered off to chat with her.
Noting that Vin appeared uneasy, Ezra said casually, "I find that this day has drained me of my enthusiasm. I'm of a mind to retire for the evening, would you care to join me now?"
Vin looked a little relieved, but he did ask, as Ezra expected, "You sure 'bout this?"
By way of answer, Ezra emptied his glass and rose, reaching for his hat and the jacket he had taken off before playing cards. "Do you require anything from your room or your wagon?"
Vin almost smiled, the corners of his lips twitching. "Nah, got everything I need with me," he said, pushing back his chair and getting up. "Do need to make a stop though. Meet you upstairs?"
The moment, Ezra thought, or one of them. "Is there anything I can do to be of assistance?" he asked. "I should be glad to accompany you, guard your back?"
Vin did smile then, but he shook his head. "It'll just take me while to get put back together, but I'll manage."
Ezra considered arguing, but decided against it. He'd have more opportunities in the near future.
Instead, he headed toward the stairs, nodding to some of the patrons as he passed. He carried the bottle with him, thinking a drink before bed might help them both.
The room was tidy, he rarely left it otherwise, and he set about lighting several lamps, setting them low to set a certain atmosphere. He poured a clean glass with whiskey from a small tray set on the corner of his chest of drawers, then set the glass and the bottle on the table beside what was to be his side of the large bed.
By the time Vin knocked softly on the door, Ezra was shed of his vest, his cufflinks, his ring, his derringer rig, and his gun belt, his revolver resting quite close on the bed beside the small glass of whiskey. It was in his hand as he opened the door, admitting the other man.
Vin looked the worse for wear, his shirt pulled out of his pants to hide, Ezra suspected, the front of his pants which were probably not completely buttoned. His face seemed more lined now, and he was holding one hand, his right one, tight against his stomach. It was the one that had suffered most in the incident, and the one most tightly bandaged.
Ezra closed the door and locked it behind Vin, then placed his gun back on the table, exchanging it for the glass of whiskey. He held it out, offering, and Vin didn't hesitate for more than a few seconds.
He used his left hand, the parts that could bend doing so awkwardly so that he almost tipped the glass over before he got a firm hold on it. When he did, he turned it up, swallowing its contents completely in a rapid succession of swallows.
Ezra took the glass back as it was lowered, and gestured toward the bed. "I took the liberty of turning back the bedcovers."
"Thanks," Vin answered, making his way slowly around the room. He waited until he was on his side before pausing, one hand on the large post at his corner of the foot. "I 'preciate this," he said quietly. "I owe you for this, Ezra."
Ezra shrugged, sitting down on his side of the bed and pulling off his boots. "You would do the same for me, Vin, and probably more given the nature of who you are. But for now, if it will ease some of your concerns, I will give some consideration as to how you might repay me."
He unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders and moving to the wardrobe to hang it up. It could stand to be washed, but he still hung it, not wanting to add to the wrinkling that would occur - and just in case some emergency arose and he needed to wear it again before he had the opportunity to get it to the washing ladies.
Behind him, he heard the thuds as Vin's boots came off, then the heavy whuff as that infernal jacket hit the floor. There was a slight grunt, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Vin bending down to pick up the coat with one hand, his left. It was an effort, Ezra knew, but before he could think of words to offer his help, Vin was standing back up, his hand under the coat's collar. So instead, he said, "You can place your clothing on that chair," and he pointed toward the chair in the corner near Vin's side of the bed. "Close and accessible."
He turned back to face his wardrobe, once more at a point he had pondered for the last while. His hands fell to the opening of his pants, and he waited, still thinking, until he heard the coat fall to the chair, and then the jingle - protracted as it was, of Vin trying to get the buckle of his gun belt open.
He opened his pants with ease, sliding them to the floor and stepping out of them, his fine cotton underpants coming to his knees and matching the thin shirt he wore under his outer shirt.
He turned back as Vin swore, struggling to retain control of his gun belt and the heavy gun in it. It didn't clatter to the floor but that was only because Vin turned quickly so that it fell to the bed.
"Would it not be wise to have a smaller gun?" Ezra asked.
"What the fuck for?" Vin snapped. "Be even less able to handle that - this damned bandages have to go, can't even get out of my belt, how the hell am I going to pull my gun - "
"You're not. That's why you're staying here, with me." Ezra walked around the bed, keeping his stride steady as he felt Vin's gaze on him in his undressed state. "Allow me?" He looked to meet Vin's eyes as he extended his hand toward the weapon.
Vin's face was hard with his frustration, but he nodded, once, a quick movement that Ezra barely saw.
He picked up the gunbelt and the weapon, pulling it gently from the holster, which he then placed on top of the coat. The short-barreled rifle he set on the table beside the bed, turning it so that the stock and grip were toward Vin and the business end was aimed toward the wall - easy for Vin to reach, if he had to.
During the process, he had brushed against Vin several times as the other man stood unmoving. Without his boots, he was closer in height to Ezra himself, and without his coat, he wasn't as imposing.
As he backed away from the placed weapon, he commented, "Surely you would be more comfortable without your shirt, at the very least. The room does get warm at night, even with the windows partly opened for the breeze, such as it is."
This time, he didn't allow himself to hesitate, extending his arms to catch the top button of Vin's shirt and unbuttoning. The fabric was worn, the holes loose enough so that he had unbuttoned three of them before Vin pulled back a little, his hands rising even though they didn't touch Ezra's.
"I ain't gotta be nekkid," he said, waving his hands a little.
Ezra laughed, but continued, even as he talked. "I gather that you have on the infamous longjohns under your shirt, and under your pants, yes? Even you know the definition of 'nekkid' involves a complete removal of clothing, and you will be far from that. And the idea of you staying here is for you to be as comfortable as circumstances will allow, is it not? So that you can maximize your rest?"
The shirt was already out of the pants, so it fell open as soon as the last button was undone. The sleeves were still unbuttoned from when Nathan had treated Vin's hands, wrapping the bandages around his wrists, and rolling back the cuffs.
"It will be cooler," Ezra said again, but he stepped back, knowing better than to push this. It was difficult not to give into his frustration, though; he could offer Vin so much - not everything Vin wanted, but more than he was getting now.
He turned his back on Vin and strolled back around the bed to his side, not stopping until he had retaken his glass and refilled it with whiskey.
Vin still stood, his arms up and bent at the elbows, but he his eyes were closed and he looked tired.
"Vin?" Ezra asked before sipping on the whiskey.
Vin sighed, dropped his arms down and shrugged, using his palms to tug at the sleeves and pull them off.
It took a while, but eventually, the shirt was on the chair as well, leaving Vin in a dingy, faded union suit top and his pants, which Ezra noticed were buttoned intermittently, the top button itself loose.
It was a pretty sight, one Ezra knew few people had seen, Vin Tanner this stripped down, his vulnerable. This attractive. It was difficult not to make a move, not to push harder, but he knew he had to take this slow.
Ezra sat down on the bed, then in a languid move, he stretched his legs out, sitting against the head board. He placed a pillow behind him for comfort and settled back into it, crossing his legs at the ankles and holding the glass in one hand, knowing the image he presented. He'd worked on it enough.
After a while, Vin sat down on the bed as well, but when he stretched out, he lay down. He was stiff, his hands heavy on his chest, his fingers bent as much as the bandages would allow.
He was hurting, Ezra thought, so he sat quietly and still, sipping on the whiskey until the glass was empty and Vin had relaxed a little. His eyes were closed, but he wasn't asleep, even though his breathing was slow and even.
He was, indeed, pretty, Ezra thought, lean and hard, like the land that bore him, dusty and worn and ragged in places.
Ezra could see the lines of his muscles under the thin undershirt, dark circles of his nipples and the faintest trail of hair where his undershirt and pants had separated, a slim path that led down under the open waistband of his pants. Dark hair, like that on his head, but it was interspersed with little glimmers of bronze or gold that caught in the dim light enticingly.
Eventually Vin shifted, rolling slightly to his far side then sitting up. "You mind if I turn down the lamp?" he asked, extending one arm toward it.
"Go right ahead," Ezra said, appreciating the expanse of Vin's back that was visible now as his shirt drew up. Scars, a few that surprised Ezra if he was correct in their origins, but mostly smooth skin, paler than Vin's face and hands, and a knobby spine.
Better was the quick glimpse he got of the pale skin curving under the pants, the descending ridge of spine that vanished into the shadow of cloth.
The shadow grew as the light diminished, and Ezra turned to his side table, grabbing the bottle of whiskey. Before he poured, he asked, "Another libation? Is the pain tolerable?"
Vin leaned on his elbows, looking from one hand to the other. "Burns," he said quietly. "Gets worse when I'm still and don't have nothing else to think on."
Ezra poured the whiskey, just a measure, and held it out.
Vin rolled toward him this time, braced on one elbow while he took the glass. He downed it in one swallow, his head back, and Ezra watched the working of his long throat, following what he thought might be the trail of the liquid as it moved under his sternum and into his belly.
Somewhere along the way, Vin's nipples rose, pushing against the thin material of his undershirt, and Ezra had to keep himself from touching one of them.
He glanced up, surprised to find Vin's eyes watching him, the glass lightly held between Vin's fingers and thumb. Vin was thinking something, his eyes shuttered, and after a few seconds, he said, "If you're worried 'bout me dirtying up your bed, I'll sleep on top of the covers."
"What? Oh, no, I was merely think that perhaps it was time to invest in new undergarments," Ezra said, hoping to save himself. "Those seem a bit threadworn."
Vin shrugged, holding out the glass to Ezra as he said, "Yeah, a mite, but they're cooler this time of the year. Be a waste of money for me to be getting fancy one like yours. They'd get ruined fast between the sweat and the washing and the work."
He grinned, then, that lazy curl of his lips that let Ezra know he was being teased. It was a relief, a sign that Vin hadn't taken any offense at Ezra's stare.
"A gentleman does not debase himself with manual labor," he said, taking up the line as he put the glass aside and turned his own lamp lower.
Vin snorted but relaxed back into the pillows, on his side so that he was facing Ezra. "Won't nobody ever call me that, in any sense of the word."
Ezra smiled, turning back toward the other man as he settled back as well. "That may be a good thing," he said so quietly that he wasn't certain Vin heard him.
He reclined as well, but let himself just watch the other man, appreciating his presence and the sight of him in his bed.
He wasn't certain when he dozed off or how long he slept, but he woke when the bed shifted to find Vin pushing himself to sit up, his long legs crawling over the bed to reach the floor.
He was looking around, a little disoriented, but when he leaned over, Ezra knew he was reaching for his boots.
Or trying to. It was only Ezra's hand catching at the waist of his pants that kept him from landing in the floor.
"Whatever are you doing?" Ezra asked, pulling Vin back and into some semblance of balance.
"Gotta piss," Vin mumbled, and Ezra realized just how out of it the other man was.
He didn't even try to hide his smile. "I have a chamber pot - will that suffice? It will keep you from having to stumble about in the dark."
He was already up, reaching under the bed for the metal pot that he kept for his own night-time needs. He didn't hand it over the bed, though, walking around to place it on the floor in front of Vin.
Vin looked up at him, his eyes shadowed in the very low light of the lamps, and Ezra stepped past him to the table, turning up the feed of oil to the wick. The room brightened a little, and Vin blinked faster as his eyes adjusted.
"Thanks, I think," he mumbled, trying to get his legs under him. Ezra almost reached to help, but waited, deciding it best to let Vin do this before he stepped in to help with what he truly wanted to help with.
It didn't take long; Vin had been asleep long enough that his fingers had numbed some in the bandages, and now they were reluctant to do what needed doing. He could barely get them to grip the cloth of his pants, much less manipulate the buttons.
"Allow me," Ezra said, stepping in close and reaching for the pants.
He wasn't surprised when Vin grunted and stepped back, nor was he surprised by the frown on the other man's face. He was, in fact, counting on it.
"You are tired, barely awake, your hands are hurting and non-responsive, and you are in need of relief, otherwise you would still be asleep," he said smoothly, stepping back in close. "Your primary complaint this afternoon was that you couldn't take care of this for yourself. I, sir, will be pleased to assist, especially as it is my living quarters you will pollute should you fail in your endeavor."
This close, he could smell the sweat on Vin, a hard masculine smell that came from honest labor and hard living. It wasn't repugnant, in truth, coupled with the edge of lye soap and faint residue of gunpowder and leather polish, it stirred certain memories, ones that involved other men in other places.
"Ezra," Vin said, his voice hoarse, "Ain't right for you to be - "
But Ezra already had the buttons open and was tugging the cloth wide, exposing the long johns that were under the pants. They were as worn and thin as the top that matched them, but Ezra was far more interested in the bulge under them.
Before he could stop himself, Vin batted his hands away, pushing past him and toward the cistern on the floor. Ezra turned, watching, as Vin gallantly tried, fumbling with the fabric. After a few seconds, he stilled, breathed out, and then relaxed. Ezra smiled as nature took its course, the tinkling of liquid hitting the metal pot reassuring him that Vin's aim wasn't as bad as he had proclaimed.
Not that that was at all what Ezra had on his mind.
He waited, listening as the sound slowed, growing fainter, then died to little splatters. It was then, as he saw Vin's right arm shift, that he stepped up behind him and to one side, reaching in.
"Let me help with that."
His timing was perfect. Vin had shaken off and was trying to fight his way back through the folds of the pants and the union suit. The exposed parts of his fingers weren't quite long enough to keep the frayed ends of the bandages from catching and preventing his success, and his fingers wouldn't bend as much as he needed to guide his flaccid penis through the maze of fabric.
It was purely a matter of maneuver, Ezra's hand, finger curled just so, slipping between Vin's wrist and the tip of his fingers, barely scraping along the injured palm at all.
Vin sucked in his breath, startled and stunned, giving Ezra the few seconds he needed to get a loose hold. Velvet, he registered, even as he realized that Vin was uncircumcised. The thought sent a jolt to his own groin - he had not had the pleasure of an unshorn man in a while, and he suspected that he should have been prepared for this from Tanner - from what little he knew of the man's past, he hadn't been born in the cradle of any sort of civility.
He moved his fingers back and forth, relishing the slide of soft skin over softer skin, relishing the reality of holding another man's cock in his hand. Of holding this man's cock in his hand.
"What - " Vin gasped out, but even as the sound squeaked from his throat, Ezra tightened his hold just a little, just enough.
"I merely thought to assist you in putting yourself back together," he said, even as his mind concentrated on how to bring Vin apart. "You yourself complained of your inability to take care of such personal matters, and you seemed far from willing to request aide."
There it was, the first flush of blood to the organ he was taunting. He felt it surge beneath the tips of his fingers, felt the pulse in the flesh as it started to swell. Oh yes, he thought, it wouldn't take long now. No man could resist a hand on his cock when it wanted more than he did, and Vin - Vin's cock had apparently been deprived for far too long.
"Ezra," Vin whispered, and his hips pushed back, he even tried to take a step away. But he was trapped between the hand at his groin and the body behind him.
"It's quite all right," Ezra said, but he said it more softly, breathing into Vin's ear as he slid his other hand around Vin's waist. "This is a personal matter as well, one that could cause as much pain as your injuries."
"No," Vin tried, his voice a little stronger, and his hands tried, shoving at Ezra's arms. "Ain't right - "
"If I want to do it, then it's quite all right," Ezra countered, tightening his hold on the swelling flesh. At the same time, his other hand dropped lower, coming in under and between Vin's legs. Even with the barriers of cloth, he was able to get a firm clasp around Vin's testicles, and the hands scrabbling at him stilled. "You'll like this," he murmured against Vin's ear, even as Vin made a little noise of surprise and resistance. "I promise."
Vin's cock did, growing longer and thicker in Ezra's hand even though Vin continued to try to protest, to try, unsuccessfully, to draw away. He did manage to murmur several times, "You don't have to do this," and "Ain't right," but Ezra ignored the hushed words, teasing the sensitive skin of Vin's inner thighs and balls with smooth caresses and careful pressure.
It didn't take long for it to lie pulsing and heavy, the tip visible beyond the cover of foreskin, and Ezra sighed against Vin's neck.
"Delightful," he said, and Vin made a little noise, sort of like a whimper. "It's been a long while for you, I gather, since another person has been this intimate."
"Don't," Vin rushed, but he was breathless, his body trembling against Ezra's. "Let me be, let me - "
"Let you what?" Ezra asked, slowly pulling back the sheath. "Let you take care of this yourself? You're hardly able, and as I'm already right here . . . " A small drop of liquid, clear and thick, leaked slowly from the tip as Ezra looked, and Vin's arms drew closer to his body.
Ezra couldn't stop himself; the hand between Vin's legs rose so that the tip of one finger caught the drop. Vin moaned at the contact and Ezra saw his eyes close, but he was concentrating on lifting his hand, pressing his arm across Vin's chest so that that finger tip could meet his lips.
Salty, of course, and bitter, but pungent and musky and redolent of the unique essence of Vin himself. He wanted more.
Vin shifted in the confines of his clutch, and the idea came to him fully formed. After all, he held the means of control in his hand.
He squeezed at the cock he held, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to get Vin's attention. "Perhaps this would be more comfortable if you were reclining - shall we sit you down?"
He didn't give Vin time to object, thinking of the words more as a warning than an actual request, and he stepped back. The arm across Vin's chest pulled, forcing Vin to move with him.
Ezra found himself bearing more of Vin's weight this way, the other man stumbling against Ezra and over his feet, but that was all right - better than all right, he thought, knowing that Vin wasn't welcoming this but had little choice.
He would make him like it, though, he had every intention of satisfying them both.
The bed was close, enough so that it was only a few paces before he slipped out and twisted so that he was facing Vin, still holding, stroking, the perfect part of him. His other hand, the one he had tasted with, the one that had slid over Vin's chest as he had moved away, now settled on Vin's shoulder, pressing him down as the back of Vin's knees smacked against the bed.
Vin sat with a grunt, his eyes staring up into Ezra's with a sort of desperation. "What are you - "
But the question was moot as Ezra had dropped to his knees at the same time, sliding between Vin's legs.
He stared up into those eyes - so blue, so clear, so panicked, but also wanting. Wanting.
Ezra knew that look, knew the way to overcome any resistance on Vin's part - the same way he got what he wanted. He lowered his head, ignoring the stifled cry that Vin gave when he realized what Ezra was doing.
The taste and smell was much stronger this close, and just on the edge of being too much so, but the way Vin shuddered more than compensated. It was as if no one had ever touched him this way, Ezra thought hazily, as if he were a complete virgin - which couldn't be right, Ezra knew that at the very least, Vin had been with women.
He was shaking, though, as Ezra licked along the thick head, his arms and hands fluttering in the air around Ezra's head as if they didn't know what to do, whether to push or pull, end the touching or encourage it.
Like a scared chicken, Ezra thought and almost laughed, but his mouth was preoccupied with its own pleasures.
And it was a pleasure, once he adjusted to it. Vin was a good size, not too large, not too small, and the shaft was slender. It wasn't long at all before Ezra let his lips slid over the slick head, taking it into his mouth far enough to press upon his tongue.
He was still for a few seconds, familiarizing himself with the weight and feel of it, and during that time, he observed that Vin was shaking less, his arms moving less, but his breathing was fast and shallow. He forced his eyes open, looking up without moving his head. Vin's eyes met his, wild and confused, but the want was still there, his pupils almost as large as the irises themselves. One of his hands was actually over his own mouth, and Ezra knew it was to keep himself quiet. The idea that Vin Tanner made noise in the heat of passion was something novel, and he knew he'd want to learn more about this as well.
Vin moved his hand long enough to hiss, "Stop it! I don't think I can - " before Ezra moved his mouth further down the shaft, taking more in. The groan that followed was cut off, he assumed, by Vin's hand.
He didn't take all of the length, not feeling the need, at this point, to give away all of his secrets. Indeed, it was hardly necessary; as he drew back the first time, to the point that he held just the very tip between his lips, Vin jerked, his hips lifting in an attempt to force more contact, and Ezra glanced up to see the look of horror on the other man's face. His body was out of his control, which was exactly what Ezra wanted.
He slowly took the length of it back in, amused by the choked whimpers he was hearing above him. He felt the first signs of release before Vin's free hand fell to his shoulder, so he had already put a hand to the base of Vin's shaft, circling it tightly. It was a nice surprise, though, to find that even on the edge of release, Vin was considerate enough to try to warn him - or even push him away.
Vin pushed at him, his other hand falling to Ezra's other shoulder, and Ezra eased back and off.
"There are easier ways to do this," he said pleasantly, maintaining his hold on Vin's cock.
"Don't," Vin moaned. "Ezra, please -"
"I have every intention of doing that, I assure you." He got his feet under him but kept his grip, pushing back against Vin's hands. The pressure must have hurt the other man, because Vin's arms fell away. He stared at Ezra still, backing away as Ezra closed the distance between them, catching the back of Vin's neck with his free hand.
The kiss was hard and difficult at first, but Vin was as surprised by this as he had been by everything else so far, and he opened up as Ezra let his teeth scrape along Vin's lips.
Vin tasted of stale whiskey, and sleep, and fear. He froze at the intrusion, giving Ezra a few seconds of control before making a little noise that was definitely protest.
Ezra ignored it, letting his hand stroke again on Vin's cock until Vin's hips were moving with him.
It wasn't going to take much, he knew, so he was going to have to balance giving Vin what he wanted against getting what he wanted. Fortunately, he was experienced with doing two or more different things with his hands.
Getting Vin's pants down was a little harder than he expected, as they were rather tight and Vin was active. Fortunately, some of his action, the thrusting of his hips, actually allowed for the material to move more easily.
There was a short span when Ezra had to let go of the erection, using both hands to force the underwear down and over the cock itself, but he pressed his tongue deep into Vin's mouth, so far that Vin had trouble breathing. By the time Vin's arms were trying to shove him away, Ezra was ready for a break himself, using it to get the clothing further down Vin's thighs.
"What do you want?" Vin asked, his voice raspy and sharp. "What's this gonna cost me?"
Ezra looked at him, catching his eyes. "Let's consider this something be can both enjoy for the moment, shall we? I know I am not who you want, Vin, but I can be someone you can enjoy - and someone who can enjoy you."
Vin swallowed, propping up on his elbows as if it would help. It didn't; Ezra leaned lower and sucked on his cockhead long enough to get the pants off, tossing them to one side.
He was pretty, Ezra thought passingly as he got to take a quick look at the long, bare legs stretched out on his bed. Slender, and bony, in his way, but Vin was all muscle, most of which was flexing right now as Ezra did things to him to keep him preoccupied. Taut thighs that tensed in sharp relief as Vin's hips came off the bed, swollen, rosy balls that rested in a bed of wiry curls just a little darker that the ones on his head.
He was indeed going to enjoy this, enjoy being inside this frantic, hard body, owning it as well as he owned his own.
But first, first he had to get Vin to the point of wanting it as much as he did. That was, after all, the challenge.
His hand knew the route, now, grabbing hold of the throbbing cock at the base before it was too late, and Vin whimpered as if in pain - and maybe he was, Ezra thought, but it wasn't enough pain to wilt the sweet stem.
"Ezra," Vin gasped out, "just let me - oh, let me come." It was so sweet, the pleading in his voice, the need.
"Patience," Ezra said softly, and he extended his free arm to one side, to the metal container he had placed just under his own pillow much earlier in the evening. It was popped open already, the top loose enough that he could use one hand to shake it off, to get to the soft substance within.
Vin whimpered, his butt bouncing on the bed with a sort of impatience that was charming - and desperate.
But he wasn't innocent, Ezra knew that. Inexperienced, perhaps, but he knew what Vin wanted, knew who Vin wanted, and knew that no one who had thoughts of that nature was unaware of the mechanisms for getting them.
Certainly no one as jaded and deadly as the man who was disinterested in Vin's attentions.
"You done this before," Vin gasped out, his head turning on the pillow as he watched Ezra pull the tin along the mattress, down towards him.
"And never with any complaint," Ezra answered, twirling his fingers in the ointment.
Before Vin could argue, Ezra bent over once more, using his tongue to distraction. As expected, within seconds, Vin had spread his legs, bending his knees to give more force to his hips. Ezra scooted easily between the muscular thighs, sucking on the end of Vin's cock as he held the base tightly, controlling the amount he took, and the height of Vin's groin.
Not only was he able to prevent it from pushing too far up, but as one ointment-slick finger pressed back behind Vin's balls and into the secret spaces of his body, he was able to keep Vin from dropping back down.
"No!" Vin stammered as Ezra found the small entrance. "Don't want that - " The words cut off in a rush of air as Ezra pushed in - not hard or fast, but with persistence. He was still appreciating the thick flesh in his mouth, and he could tell that the denial had far less to do with Vin's pleasure than with social convention. As his finger penetrated the slim channel, Vin's cock jumped, firming even more.
Adding a second finger took a little more time and work; he was tight and hot and definitely inexperienced, perhaps even virginal in this capacity, Ezra thought, and the idea left him aching.
Vin tried to draw away then, his feet pushing at the mattress in a way that was not to lift his hips so much as to push him from Ezra. Even the grip Ezra had on his cock didn't do much in the way of holding him in place, and Ezra raised his head, giving his jaw a break of a sort.
"Don't do that," Vin rushed, pushing back up and onto his elbows. "Don't want that - "
"Your body disagrees," Ezra interrupted calmly. "See?" He pushed his fingers in a little more roughly than he'd been, and immediately, the tip of Vin's cock oozed more clear fluid.
Vin jerked, caught between the fingers in him and the ones holding him, and he made a noise that was somewhere between and cry and a growl.
Ezra twisted his fingers slowly, appreciating the way the small opening stretched for him. Vin whimpered, tried once more to draw away, but Ezra stroked his erection several times, keeping it interested.
The third finger went in with more resistance, not just from the slender passage but from Vin as well. He tried to sit up, almost kicking Ezra in the process, and this time Ezra took more direct action. With a practiced tumble, he fell against Vin's chest, knocking him flat and at the same time, giving himself leverage into the other man. Vin cried out, but Ezra muffled the sound with his own mouth, sucking in the noise and Vin's breath as he flexed his fingers, opening him wider.
Vin was still under him for a few seconds, long enough for Ezra to pull out then drive back in with only two fingers, but going deeper, seeking the little nub that he'd found in others, and that a select few had found in him.
Finding it was a little harder than he'd expected, but then, it had been a while since he'd been in this position. And a longer while since he'd had someone so reluctant to accept his attentions.
Fortunately, Vin had resumed his struggles, and as he moved, trying to wriggle free, he helped Ezra find the place. Ezra knew because the body under his tensed to stillness then arched, Vin's long back bowing, pressing his belly against Ezra.
"You do want me, Mr. Tanner, and you are just beginning to understand how much."
He smiled down into Vin's dazed eyes, then drew his fingers once more over the bulge and Vin gasped, unable to speak with the pleasure of it.
From there - from there it was almost too easy. He fingered Vin as he kissed him, knowing he had a little space of time to keep his hands off Vin's cock. In that short interim, he managed to snag more of the ointment, enough to apply to his own painful erection.
Positioning himself was a little more difficult; Vin was perceptive enough to understand what was happening even as his body answered Ezra's touches. His head rolled on the pillow and his hands pushed as effectively as they could against Ezra's shoulders as Ezra moved to position himself.
"No," he gasped out, trying to close his legs despite the body between them. "No, never again."
"So you're not the innocent you would have us believe?" Ezra said quietly, even as his fingers pressed inside and Vin arched in want.
Vin grunted, pushing now with the back of his hands, which gave him more strength. Ironically, it was helpful, as it allowed Ezra to balance on Vin's arms and keep his own in play. The one inside Vin still kept him on the edge while Ezra used the other to guide his cock as close to its goal as possible.
When one hand could do both tasks, he looked into Vin's eyes. There was panic there, and Ezra passingly wondered how horrible Vin's previous experience had been. "Shhhh," he soothed, once more taking Vin's erection in hand. "You'll enjoy this as much as I do, I promise."
His attempt at reassurance did the opposite, of course, and Vin wiggled, trying once more to resist. Ezra sighed. But there was a pattern to Vin's motions, so Ezra did what he did best, taking advantage of the man's own weakness. He stroked Vin's cock as Vin thrust up, pulling out his fingers to replace them with the tip of his own erection.
Vin stilled completely, his breathing fast and shallow, his eyes wide with fear but also anger. "You'll regret it," he said low and hard, and for one of the few time in the years he had known Vin Tanner, Ezra saw the savage in the man.
It gave him pause, knowing there was promise in the words that wouldn't be forgotten. Knowing that if Vin Tanner were angry enough afterwards, there was nowhere Ezra could run that Tanner wouldn't find him.
But the heat of Vin's body, the velvet clutch encircling his overly-sensitized flesh, was too much to resist.
"Only if you do," he returned, "and I hope to prove otherwise." Before Vin had time to react, Ezra jabbed forward, breaching the small opening. He didn't go deeper, though, not yet, only the widest part of the flared head passing through.
Vin stiffened, stifled a cry as he tensed with the pain of first penetration. His erection faded, but not by much, as Ezra didn't give it time. With careful, measured strokes, he kept Vin's body interested, working as diligently at that as he was at holding his own release at bay.
Vin growled, twisting, but the tension against Ezra's shoulders lessened and Ezra barely caught himself with his unencumbered hand. He grinned down at Vin, slowly pushing into him a little more. "You trusted me earlier, Vin. Give me a little more faith and I swear to you that you won't regret this."
Vin's jaw was clenched, his head thrown back on the pillow, but Ezra didn't think it was pain now, or not all of it. Vin's body was opening to him, slowly, inch by inch, but it was doing it.
He wasn't going to last long, he knew, the intensity of this, coupled with the knowledge that Tanner hadn't yet been taken by the one he preferred, stirred a lust that went deeper than most he experienced. This, he thought briefly, might be worth Mr. Tanner's wrath, to have a man of this possession and self-control under his own power, beneath him.
Wanting him.
Because Tanner did, at this moment, want him.
Ezra drew back slightly before pushing forward, this time going deeper. He was almost there, he knew, not all the way sheathed, but almost to the point where he would brush against the knot that would push Vin over the edge. Once more he pulled back, pushed in - Vin arched, his fingers clutching at Ezra's shoulders, his face scrunched. He was silent now, afraid to make a sound, Ezra thought.
Ezra bent lower, moving now, matching the rhythm of his hand to the rhythm of his hips. He was losing the ability to think, to concentrate, and he knew he wouldn't last past Vin, but he wanted to give as much as he could. He hadn't broken his promise, his every movement touching that spot inside Vin and sending him well past reason. Vin thighs had spread more, his heels bruising the back of Ezra's knees as he added his own beat to the music their bodies were making.
One of Vin's arms caught Ezra around the neck, holding him tightly, and for an instant, Ezra wondered if Vin might choke him. But even as the thought flashed through his psyche, Vin jerked, breaking the pattern, and his body locked in the rigor of climax.
The first spurt hit Ezra at the throat, and he wanted to look down, to see the sweet cock in its prime action, but Vin's arm held him close - which was just as well, for his own orgasm broke through him like a midsummer storm - blinding and torrential.
He managed to thrust twice more, the second one taking him all the way in, where he seized, laying his claim as deeply as possible in the other man's body.
He wasn't quite recovered, barely coming back to awareness, when Vin shifted under him. The arm around his throat pressed harder, and he wondered if perhaps this were the moment of truth. The thought grew stronger as the pressure took his breath, and he inventoried his options. One hand was still at Vin's groin, sticky with Vin's ejaculate and the mingled sweat of their bodies, still holding Vin's diminishing erection.
Without thinking, he gripped harder, considering his chances of trapping Vin's balls before Vin broke his neck -
Vin's arm released him, his arm falling to bed as he sighed. "God damn you," he said, but his voice was shaky.
"I fear," Ezra said as he released Vin and slowly got his arms under him, "that you're far too late for that." He started to push himself up, but hesitated; he was still inside the other man, his cock not soft enough to slip out easily.
The decision was taken away as Vin wrenched himself away, hissing with the pain of it.
Ezra shook his head, glancing down to his groin. He'd never gotten his own underwear off, and the fabric of the opening was wet now, stained familiarly. There was no blood though, so he hadn't hurt Vin badly - perhaps his pride more than his flesh.
Of course, the pride would be what got Ezra killed. Best to take care of some of that now.
"Was it so horrible?" Ezra asked, sitting up then edging to the side of the bed. "You certainly seemed to enjoy it, and I have been told that my technique is extraordinary."
He rose, took a few seconds to catch his balance and get his legs to work, then moved to the water basin. The washing cloth was wet and sill fragrant with the soap he had used earlier in the evening, so it was easy enough to wipe himself off and tuck himself away.
When he turned back to the bed, Vin was sitting up, his face devoid of all expression, his eyes blank. He was staring at Ezra, though, and Ezra thought this to be far worse than the savagery of before.
This, he knew, was the killer. Cold, calculating, and without remorse.
He met the blue eyes, refusing to flinch. Holding out the cloth, he said, "You liked it. Quite a bit. So either you enjoyed the pain of it, or you got a lot of pleasure from it. Whatever the case, you cannot claim to be violated." He waited for a second, letting his words sink in, then added, "And of course you'll have to explain to Mr. Larabee and our other companions why you killed me. Inez does know that you were spending the night with me and why. Do you think you can walk away unscathed?"
Vin didn't move, but some of the tension seemed to lessen. After another second, he took a deep breath and looked away. "You had no right to do that," he said, his voice flat.
Ezra took a step closer, still holding out the cloth. "Perhaps not. But you enjoyed it, wanted it, and given the opportunity, I would do it again," he countered, but he kept his voice soft.
Vin's jaw tightened, and Ezra could see the pulsing of the vein in his long neck. "You'll never have the chance," he snarled, but he reached up, jerking the cloth from Ezra's grasp with the tips of his fingers.
"No," Ezra said, sitting down on his side of the bed, "I suspect I won't. But I will extend the invitation to you to join me at your discretion. And next time, perhaps things will be a little more equal."
Vin made a low, growling noise, but he was wiping at his belly and groin. He stretched forward, snagging his pants where they had been tossed toward the foot of the bed and pulling them close.
"You may wish to consider the realities of your present circumstances," Ezra said casually, leaning back in the pillows as Vin struggled in the dim light to sort his union drawers from his pants. "It is still the middle of the night. Should anyone see you leave this room, they will wonder what you were up to at this time of night. At the same time, you are still encumbered with your injury and unable to wield a weapon effectively. I suspect I have proven how vulnerable you are in the right circumstance."
Vin stilled, not looking at Ezra, who went on.
"While you might think you can no longer trust me, I would point out that at no time did I lie to you. I have protected you, and I did provide you with a most pleasant diversion from your predicament. You are still physically safer with me than on your own."
Vin turned, his eyes glinting in the shadows. "That the way of it? Having you watch my back means I gotta bend over for you?"
It was tempting, almost too much so, to agree to those terms, but he knew they were false - not just for Vin, but for himself. Instead, he sighed. "No. What happened tonight will not happen again, unless you initiate it. I am not so much a fool as to think I could compromise you again and live to tell of it. And truth be told, I'd far prefer to have you as a willing participate in this venture. Or less hostile."
He drew the sheet over his legs and to his waist, then closed his eyes. After a short time, the bed moved, and he gathered that Vin was pulling on his underwear. He expected the pants to follow, and he wasn't disappointed.
But afterwards, the bed was still, and despite himself, he opened his eyes to find Vin sitting, braced against his own pillows. He was turned so that he was looking out the window, his hair glinting in the lamplight which caught the hints of gold and copper in it. When he spoke, it was barely a whisper, and Ezra struggled to hear the words.
"I let men do that to me before. Most times - most times it hurt, mostly at the start. Sometimes, though, it felt good too, after, not as good as it did with you, but something like it. The last time . . . the last time, it hurt too much and he wouldn't stop. Afterwards, I swore I'd never let it happen again, never give myself up that way."
Ezra waited, and when he was certain Vin had stopped, he said softly, "Perhaps you are choosing the wrong men."
Vin was quiet for a while, but Ezra knew he was thinking. He waited patiently, and eventually he was rewarded with a soft sigh. "You know 'bout . . ." He swallowed, then continued with determination, "you know 'bout how I feel about him."
"Our friend in Eagle Bend? I know you have strong affections for him, and I suspect that they are not returned. I know that you will waste more of your life pining for something you can't have if you don't accept the reality of your situation."
Vin snorted, his voice tired and edged with bitterness. "So I should let you fuck me to keep you quiet?"
Ezra took a deep breath, holding on to his patience. "I would repeat what I said before. I only want you in my bed if you wish to be, Vin. I promise you that I have no intention of discussing anything about your desires with anyone."
Vin didn't move, but something in him seemed to relax just a little. "So this was all because . . ."
"Because I thought we might both enjoy it, that we could both use the distraction. The pleasure, if you will. I am correct, am I not? You did enjoy it, didn't you?"
Vin sighed, but he slowly turned back, his eyes opaque in the dim light. "Yeah," he said. "Can't lie about that. Guess I owe you."
"No," Ezra said quietly. "You do not owe me. But my door is open to you, if you wish it."
Vin didn't say anything after that, and Ezra eventually turned onto his side and went to sleep.
He awoke just after dawn, the morning breaking with a grey haze of rain, the smell of it rich in the air. The lamps had gone out, their oil depleted, and the room was only slightly brighter than it had been when he drifted off.
But Vin was still with him, curled down on this side so that he faced Ezra, his bandaged hands held close to his chest. His face carried a frown, a sign of unpleasant dreams, and Ezra wondered if he had brought them on.
He rolled to face the other man, studying the angles of his face, the soft flutter of his eyelashes as his lids flickered in sleep.
The man in Eagle Bend who held Vin's heart was a fool, he thought, to ignore the offering. And while he doubted he would ever be fortunate enough to be in that position, he would take what he could get.
For now, the fact that Vin was still here was enough.