+ 12 months, 26.02 days fusion point.
"I don't understand." Buck was trying to, he really was. But it wasn't making any sense. "Vin's straight. And Chris . . . "Mary looked down, and Terry glanced between the two of them before sighing. "We don't understand it all either, Buck," she finally said, quietly. "There's definitely some sort of attraction at the, what, atomic level? Dr. Fowler's people have documented it. They think that whatever happened to them has made them . . . more stable when they touch each other. It's very low-level - not an attraction, more like magnetism, but it is something that sort of draws them together."
"To have sex," Buck said, trying his damnedest to stay rational about this.
"We don't understand it," Mary said quickly. "But it's more complicated than Chris cheating on you."
He scrubbed a hand through his hair, wishing he'd stayed with Josiah and JD, working on getting the ship ready for tomorrow's mission.
But he'd been worried about Chris; JD had reported the energy spikes coming from the complex, too close to where Chris and Vin were housed to be a coincidence. He'd been worried, apparently for no reason. Or the wrong reason.
"So they had sex and Chris short-circuited," he said, trying to smile and failing miserably.
"All of his vital signs are stable. A little weak; I think he burned himself out," Mary said a little ruefully.
"Yeah," Buck agreed. He moved as if to rise, but Mary held up a hand.
"I know you're angry," she said quietly. "This has been hell on all of you. All of you." She glanced to Terry, who nodded and took up the thread.
"Like I said, there are a lot of different reasons why this could have happened, Buck, and some of them can't be blamed on Chris and Vin."
He mulled her words for a few seconds, until he understood. "Fowler?" he asked quietly, even as he began to think of the ways he could kill the man.
She didn't answer, not in words, but her eyes once more strayed to Terry.
"You know that we've had to keep them on anti-depressants, Vin especially. It's possible that something in the mix of what they've been given reacted unexpectedly with their body chemistries. It was recently suggested to me to add some mild relaxants to the mix, mostly for Chris." Her gaze was steady on Buck's, the message as clear as he knew he was going to get it. Fowler had made sure that Chris had something to lower his inhibitions. Something to make him respond.
Son of a bitch.
"Vin?" he asked, thinking to give the younger man the benefit of the doubt. He might kill him too, but maybe not. Maybe just hurt him real bad, rip off his dick.
"It wasn't his idea," Terry said quietly. "He wasn't even involved until Chris pulled him off the treadmill. We've got the footage of it if you want to see it."
Footage. Of course they had 'footage'. Because nothing Chris and Vin did was private. Right now, Fowler was probably watching it, getting off on his own little power trip.
"Vin's feeling pretty bad about this." Mary touched his hand again. "He had enough to deal with before this. Now he knows everything, and he's . . . not happy. I think if it weren't for watching out for Chris, we'd be back to where we were two months ago."
"Well that ain't Chris' fault!" Buck fumed. "Chris has been protecting him since this whole damned thing started - "
"I know." The words were soft, but unexpected, coming through the speakers. The link to Chris' rooms had been active, Mary worried about Chris.
Buck turned to the monitor on Mary's desk, wanting to reach through it to the man on the other side, wrap his hands around that long throat and choke the life out of him.
Seeing Vin, though, gave him pause.
He did look like hell. His hair was a mess, part of it still in one of those strange ties he used to pull it back on missions and when they were working out, but most of it hanging loose and knotted. He was still in work-out clothes, probably what he had been wearing when this whole mess had started.
He wasn't as glowy though, a sign that he'd gotten something out of his little interlude with Chris.
"Do you?" Buck asked, his voice hard but not loud. "Do you know that Fowler set a quota that Chris has to meet every week, for the war effort? Do you know that he's doing it, we're doing it, while we're all nursing your suicidal mood? Do you have any idea how hard this has been on him - on us - and now you go and - "
"I didn't go and do anything!" Vin shot back, his voice not as soft, but not yet yelling. "I wasn't the one pulling Chris off a treadmill to - to - " He choked, turning away from the screen. But his words were clear. "I didn't attack him, Buck, he came at me!"
"You gonna stand there and tell me you didn't want it?" Buck yelled back. "That you didn't get up and get off with him?" His fist slammed hard into the top of the desk, and Mary and Terry both jumped. They stared at him, and he knew they were scared, but he went on, the frustration of the past year finding a target. "Maybe that's the problem - you been in the closet all this time, finally got your chance at having Chris?"
Vin whipped around, hair waving around his face. "Fuck no!" he yelled this time, and gold flares started rippling through his skin. "That what you think? I just been sitting around pining for your boyfriend, pretending to be straight? Fuck you, Buck - you and Chris got egos the size of an Albie fighter ship! I ain't got no interest in his dick or yours or - fuck you!"
It was a rare thing to get Vin riled and under other circumstances, Buck would have been laughing by now, amused by Vin's ineloquence and the fact that 'fuck' was all he could manage.
But at this moment, it was the last thing he wanted to have in his head when it came to Vin.
"You stay the hell away from him," Buck snarled. "It might kill me to get in there, but I swear, Vin, you get near him again and I'll take you out with me."
"You think that's gonna scare me?" Vin shot back. "I don't want him, Buck, maybe you oughta be threatening him - "
"Maybe you both need to calm down," Mary said loudly as she slipped one arm over Buck's bicep then wormed her way in between him and the camera. "Let's all step back for a minute and think about this, and about what we can and can't do."
He didn't pull away from her touch, he hardly knew she was there. But he did give in to the pulling, letting her put some distance between him and Vin - or the monitor that held his image.
For his part, Vin wiped at his forehead with the back of his hand, closing his eyes and breathing hard.
"I don't think anyone's happy about this," Terry said quietly. "But we need to find a way to deal with it that's not going to make it worse for all of you."
"Then get them the hell out of there," Buck said. But he flexed his hand, forcing himself to relax.
"We're working on it," Mary said, directing him back to the chair he had left, "but you know it's going to take time. We don't have any room for mistakes with this, and you know that."
"Separate them," he said, but his own steam was running out. "If this is some sort of thing they have no control over, then they don't want it either. Put them back in their own places."
Vin spoke then, taking up that particular argument. "I'm going, Buck, just as soon as Chris is awake. I ain't planning on letting that happen again."
"Like you were planning on it this time?" Buck countered even as he settled back into the chair.
Vin looked at him, his eyes open and tired and haunted. "No, Buck, I wasn't planning on it this time. Never thought I'd have to watch myself with Chris. You know that."
It wasn't the words, it was the pain in Vin's voice that finally broke through.
"Goddammit," Buck sighed, leaning forward to prop himself on his hands. "Goddammit."
+ 12 months, 27.24 days fusion point.
Chris kept the connection open, waiting for what seemed like hours for Buck to return to their room in the team suite. Knowing Buck's passwords helped; the link had been closed when he'd first keyed it, a sign that Buck already knew.A sign that his lover was as upset as he had every right to be.
So Chris sat and waited, trying not to remember the details of what had happened, trying to will it into a dusty corner of his mind where he could lock it away with the other mistakes he had made in his life.
It was late when Buck finally entered the room, looking as tired and worn as Chris had ever seen him. The other man didn't look at the monitor, had probably forgotten that Chris could activate it without his code.
Buck was stripping down, and while a part of Chris desperately wanted to watch, to make a new memory of them together to over-write the memory of what had happened yesterday, he knew it wouldn't be right, would be a sort of insult to Buck at this point.
"Buck," he said quietly. "I re-opened the link - need to talk to you."
Buck had stilled at the sound, and even now, he didn't look up to the monitor, didn't answer. He knew all right.
Chris sighed. He'd wanted to be able to tell him, to give him at least that dignity. But despite all the secrecy Fowler and his people practiced, the two men trapped in 'the box' weren't allowed even a hint of privacy.
"Sit down, please" Chris said, and scrubbed his hand through his too-short hair. "I'd like to talk to you about it."
'It'.
"Ain't much to talk about," Buck said, but he sat down finally, in the desk chair. Slowly, he looked up his face as empty as Chris had ever seen it.
He tried anyway, needing to give Buck something, anything. "You know we've always been straight with each other. Always told the truth and taken things as they come."
Buck didn't say anything, but there was a slight tilt to his head which Chris decided to take as encouragement.
"I don't know what they've told you, what Vin's told you, but I'd like the chance to tell you what I've heard and what I know." He paused, but Buck still said nothing. "Mary says there's an ion response, something about what they did to Vin, when they adjusted him so that we could be together. It's like an itch under your skin."
Buck's head moved again, more definitely a nod.
"She says that something in his energy now is attracted to mine, that we're drawn together. That when we touch, we form some sort of circuit that . . . well, I don't quite understand all the dynamics to it, but we're attracted to each other and over time, that attraction builds up and has to . . . has to be released." It seemed so clinical, so much less than what he remembered of the way it had felt yesterday.
Buck, apparently thought so too. He smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile, and his voice was rough when he finally spoke. "So you and Vin are some kind of machine now, like a laser or a reactor core? You get to hold hands and point at things and shoot fire from your fingers like super-heroes?"
Chris looked away. "I dry-humped him against the wall this morning. But I reckon you already know that, don't you."
"Uh huh," Buck answered, "Reckon I do. Reckon I know all about it already, all about it and way more than I really wanted to know."
Chris swallowed, forcing himself to look back up, to meet Buck's eyes. "I don't know what it was, Buck, I couldn't stop myself, couldn't even think clearly until after I came. It came out of nowhere. I was walking across the room and suddenly, we were just against the wall, touching. I . . ." He stopped, unable to find the words. "He's... he's pretty pissed at me."
"Me too," Buck said, but his face was worse than any anger Chris had ever seen on it. It was dead.
"Yeah... yeah." Chris leaned in, his face as close to the monitor as he could, searching those familiar features. "You okay, Buck?"
He saw it then, the one thing he could never stand to be: the cause of tears. But Buck didn't blink or reach a hand to wipe them away, and his voice, while husky, was even as he said, "Am I okay? What do you think, Chris?"
Chris's eyes dropped first, and then his head, forehead resting on his upraised hand. "I can't think. I don't know what to think, or what the fuck to do. It'll be in the reports, you'll know more about the science behind it before I do, so it's not like I could have kept it a secret." He hadn't meant to say it like that and as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he stiffened, looking back up and adding quickly, "Not that I'd have kept it from you. I should have, maybe, but I wouldn't."
"Why?" Buck asked, "Why not try to hide it?"
It was hard to get the words out, but he'd thought long enough about the answer that he didn't hesitate. "Because words are the only thing we have left."
Buck watched him for a few seconds, before finally swiping a hand over his cheeks. His voice was tighter now, the anger finally showing. "No, they're not, you sorry bastard. We've got a damned sight more than that, and if you don't see it, then you're blind and stupid." He pushed himself out of the chair, his voice hot as he spat, "I'll see you later."
Chris' own anger, so close to the surface through all of this, broke as well. "Buck, sit your ass back down!"
"I don't think so, Chris," Buck said, and left the room with ground-eating strides, leaving Chris to watch the door close before him.
He deserved it, he thought, scrubbing at the dampness on his own cheeks. Dammit it all, he deserved it.
+ 13 months, 16.17 days fusion point.
"Dealer takes two," Ezra said smugly.JD laughed, Josiah grinned, and Vin shook his head. "Toss my cards in, Nate, ain't nothing I care to try for."
"Why, surely, Mr. Tanner, you aren't giving up so quickly." Ezra grinned at the camera. JD had rigged one of the monitors so that it sat on a platform at the end of the oval table in the team's small communal room. They had a camera mounted at its top so that Vin had the sense of being at the table with them, and they had the sense of him being there. There was another one at the opposite end, where Chris 'sat' when the seven of them were playing together.
Not that Chris had joined them much these days. Or Buck.
"Guess I got more sense 'n money these days," he said, forcing his eyes away from the dark hollows under Ezra's eyes and the new worry lines in Josiah's brow. They were tired, he knew, being pushed harder and harder as the war raged on and the Albies got more desperate.
"I believe I'll follow that wisdom myself," Josiah said, throwing in his own cards. "Beer, anyone?"
Vin envied them, staying quiet as JD and Nathan agreed, and Ezra groused again about the lack of quality available to them, what with the rationing.
"That bad?" Vin asked, watching as JD bet more than his hand was probably worth, and Nathan also dropped out.
"I'm 'bout sick of stew," Nathan answered, shaking his head as JD grinned when Ezra took the bet. "No matter what they call it, it pretty much comes down to some sort of beans with some sort of root with a lot of water, not enough seasoning, and too many protein additives." He glanced to the monitor. "You boys getting something different?"
Vin shook his head. "Nope. I just ain't been paying it a lot of attention, I guess." Not that he would have told them if he and Chris were getting special treatment. They were all he had now, and he knew how hard it was for them to make time for him, to include him in their lives.
"Two pair!" JD announced proudly, fanning his cards on the table. "Beat that, Ez!"
Vin watched as Ezra arched an eyebrow, then very carefully fanned his own hand. "Three twos," he announced with a slight grin. "Small cards, but then, with three of them, it hardly matters."
Vin almost felt sorry for JD, but the kid really should have learned by now. Fortunately, Josiah was back, handing out cans of the cheapest brew made, and one of the few still available. Vin swallowed, envious. He'd trade every damned drug they were trying to give him right now for one of those.
"Piss water," Josiah sighed as he opened his own. But it didn't stop him from drinking long and deep.
"You'll be pleased to note, Mr. Tanner," Ezra said, drawing Vin's attention away from Josiah, "that the war effort goes well. Whether it was your intention or not, the laser cannons worked most effectively in today's encounter with Albouais forces."
The others tensed, exchanging not-very-covert glances among themselves, but in a way, it was a relief. Vin knew they all knew where the energy was coming from, but so far, no one had been brave enough to mention it to his face. Trust Ezra to break the ice.
"It sure as hell wasn't my intention," he said, "but glad to know some good came from it."
He waited, watching more glances pass between the four of them in the room, knowing that it would be JD with his insatiable curiosity, and the protection of his youth, who would finally break. He wasn't disappointed.
"So, what really happened?" he asked, and in his way, he met Vin's eyes. "I mean, we've heard rumors - the place is running wild with them, and Buck's sorta said, well, a few things, but . . . "
"JD," Nathan chastised, looking toward Vin. "Ain't none of our business - "
"It's all right, Nate," Vin said. "Reckon y'all got as much right to ask as anybody - hell, more." He sighed, looking down at his hands in his lap. "I can't say that I rightly know. Mary thinks that it's something that's caused by the radiation, mixed up with all the drugs we were on, and maybe . . . maybe something Fowler did to . . . get what he wanted."
"Bastard," JD snarled.
Josiah reached out a hand, touching JD's arm, but Vin shrugged.
"Doing his job," he said quietly. "Like Ez said, war effort's working at the moment, gotta keep those weapons working somehow and right now, I guess we're about it."
"You're awful generous, Vin," Josiah said quietly. "I think I'd be righteously pissed."
Vin felt the first sincere smile he'd felt in a while, since it had happened. "Didn't say I wasn't. But I figure Chris and Buck are taking care of all of that."
"Buck is pretty pissed," JD agreed, then winced when he realized what he'd said.
"Got a right to be," Vin said. "Reckon we all do. But that don't stop the war, don't stop the fact that there ain't many choices. Don't stop the fact that the Albies are taking us apart one piece at a time."
"So, you gonna keep doing what Fowler wants?" Nathan asked. "War's coming along, but it ain't over yet."
That was a little closer to the point than he was willing to think on. He felt himself blush, hating that it was even more obvious now than it ever had been.
Ezra covered for him this time. "I suspect that we hardly need to hear that answer," he said smoothly. "I am more concerned for the balance of things between you and our esteemed leader. Have you exiled yourself or has he banished you?"
Something in the way he put it annoyed Vin, but it was better than the previous question. "Little of both, I reckon," he said. "Don't matter. I ain't in no mood to cause trouble about it." No need to mention that Chris still hadn't spoken to him, even through the safety of the comm system. Somehow it had all become his fault. That riled him the most, but as he'd just explained, none of this was fair or just. Chris was dealing with his own guilt, and might calm down.
"Seems you're doing all the forgiving in this, Vin," Josiah commented, leaning forward. "Forgiveness is a great thing. But resignation is a bit different."
Vin shook his head, looking back down at his hands. "You tell me what I can do about any of it from in here, and I swear to you, I'll try it. But I ain't seeing no options."
Before any of them could answer, the external door opened and Buck came in. He got several steps into the room, nodding to JD and the others before realizing that Vin was on the monitor. He stopped then, staring, and Vin swallowed.
"Vin," Buck said after a few seconds.
"Buck," Vin nodded, not looking away, but not pushing either. After a few more seconds of silence, he started to sign off, but as he opened his mouth, Buck spoke.
"You holding up all right?"
Vin blinked, caught the flicker of surprise on Ezra's face, and nodded once. "Guess so," he said, clearing his throat. "You?"
Buck shrugged and forced a grin Vin knew was fake. "Could be worse." Then he frowned. "You two could've killed each other, and I'd have hated to get court-martialed in the middle of a war for taking Fowler apart with my bare hands."
Vin nodded; he'd thought of little else. It was, in fact, a damned good way not to think about the mess on everyone's minds, in one way or another. "You ever change your mind on that, you give him something from me," Vin said darkly.
"I think you can count on that," Buck said.
They looked at each other, growing more uncomfortable in the silence, until Vin blurted, "Chris all right?"
Something flashed through Buck's eyes, and Vin looked away, knowing he'd asked the wrong thing.
But after a second, the other man sighed. "So he ain't talked to you?"
Vin shrugged, then shook his head. "Not since . . ." He licked at his lips. "Listen, I better sign off. You boys have a good night - "
"He's feeling pretty bad," Buck interrupted him, his words even. "He didn't mean for it to happen."
Vin swallowed again, wishing he had something, anything to drink, to mitigate this sense of inadequacy. "Never thought he did," he heard himself say. His mouth went on after that, surprising him even more. "I sure as hell ain't no substitute for the Bucklin."
The grin was instant; Buck wasn't vain about many things, but his love-making talents were among them. He was good and he knew he was good, and Vin's statement, while risky, had its intended effect.
Picking up the change in mood, Ezra jumped in immediately. "For which we are all thankful. One of him is more than enough. I don't care to consider the horror of receiving unsolicited advice concerning my romantic pastimes from anyone else."
Vin suspected that the turn of phrase was intentional. It worked; Buck jumped right in, his natural good humor coming through. "That mean you like receiving it from me, Ez?"
"'Ra'," Ezra said dryly, "My name is 'Ezra', not 'Ez'. And as a point of fact, no, I do not appreciate your efforts to assist where no assistance is needed - "
"You getting laid regular now?" Buck grinned. "Why, who is this poor woman?"
The others were laughing, not so much at the tired humor of this as at the release of the tension. Vin found himself chuckling as well, realizing how much he missed this. The friendships. It was why he had stayed with the team when given the option to promote out. It was why he'd never been able to set the date with Charlotte, something the others didn't know, even though he knew Josiah and Ezra suspected it.
The laughter grew as inevitably, Buck's attentions came to JD and his confused attempts to woo Casey Wells.
"Hell, boy, that girl can probably show you a thing or two! Or is that what you're afraid of, that she's gonna know more than you?" Buck smacked the back of JD's head as the kid squawked a denial that had all of them laughing.
It was good; the only thing missing was Chris' dry chuckle, which Vin tried not to think about. He missed the other man - when he wasn't pissed about what had happened.
When he wasn't distracted by the memory of those hands on him.
He blew out a breath, shifting in his chair. The cushion was new, the old one finally disintegrating, just when it started getting comfortable.
Just like his friendship with Chris.
Another loud burst of laughter brought him back to the conversation in time to hear Buck announce, "What you know about sex wouldn't fit in my thumb! Hell, JD, you ain't got enough balls to ask the girl out, much less get into her pants!"
"Buck! That ain't - don't you even think about - how can you talk about Casey like that?"
They were all laughing so hard that even JD, sputtering and indignant, ended up laughing as well. JD's ignorance was intentional; Casey had made few bones about her experience, even flirting quite overtly with Vin and Ezra, her offers leaving little to the imagination. They all knew it was an attempt to make JD jealous enough to finally do something, which had, sort of, worked. He'd finally asked her out.
"JD, I can talk about Casey like that because I know women," Buck announced cheerfully. "I know that little girl knows what she wants, and for no reason I can figure, she wants you. But you keep dancing around, afraid of her, and you're gonna drive her right on into the arms of someone else."
JD sighed and rolled his eyes, but Vin knew the kid was listening.
"And then," Buck continued, "you're gonna be back to watching them films I got for you all by your lonesome."
"Yes," Josiah agreed dryly, "like the rest of us."
It hit him then, the reminder that he wasn't the only one. They might not all be locked in a tiny room with no windows and no company, but they weren't all having fun.
Not even Buck.
Ezra snorted. "Speak for yourself, Mr. Sanchez. Some of us enjoy the company of the fairer sex, finding it a delightful contrast to the juvenile antics of our own gender."
"Then why ain't you there now, Ez?" Buck countered, emphasizing the other man's shortened name.
"Because even the fairer sex finds its own company often more agreeable," he answered with a sigh.
"Ladies night out," Nathan sighed as well. "That's where Raine is, too."
Nostalgia hit him hard then; Raine and Inez were part of a group of women who got together once a week to appreciate life. Charlotte had been a part of that group, at least while they were together. He wondered if she still went, if the others still kept up with her, still saw her and drank beer with her and -
"Vin?"
He jerked, unaware he'd been so far away. "Yeah," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "Just thinking."
"Looked awful deep there, brother," Josiah rumbled.
Nothing he had any intention of talking about. Instead, he went for the next best thing he could come up with. Looking squarely at Buck, he said, "So, you got JD videos?"
Buck grinned, but there was a question behind it.
Make or break, Vin thought, Buck would either take it as it was intended or . . . not. "I could stand some of those myself."
Buck arched one eyebrow, his grin wavering. "You serious?"
The question was more than playful, more than a joke, and they all knew it. He'd already told the others, more or less, so what difference did it make to actually say it to Buck?
He nodded.
Buck's grinned returned. "First thing in the morning, Junior, a full collection for you."
"He can have mine," JD shot back, oblivious to the subtlety of the situation. "I don't need them."
Buck shook his head, laughing now, loud and long and relieved. "Hell, boy, you done wore yours out, didn't you. Nah, Vin deserves a set all for himself."
Nobody mentioned the long-term benefits.
+ 14 months, 09.73 days fusion point.
"It's an interesting suggestion, Larabee, and under other circumstances, your suspicions might have a foundation." Fowler sat back in his chair, the tip of his cigar blazing red as he sucked on it.Chris clenched his jaw, both at the man's words and the presence of the cigar in this complex. Like there weren't enough ways to cause trouble here without adding smoking to the mix.
Worse, though, was his own desire to have one of those cigars. He suspected that Fowler knew that and that this little show was more to annoy him than to actually smoke.
Fowler went on, not giving time to retort. "But as I've said already, we're not doing anything to you two at this time. Tanner's doing his part, so there's no need at the moment to be doing anything extra to encourage you. No drugs, no subliminal messages in your soap operas, no pheromones added to your air supply. Mr. Wilmington has been most generous in supplementing Tanner's video needs, so we haven't even been involved in that."
Chris jerked despite himself. Buck was giving Vin porn?
Fowler arched an eyebrow and said evenly, "Captain Wilmington's packages to Lieutenant Tanner have been pretty regular."
"Goddammit," he snarled, passingly aware that he really needed to expand his vocabulary.
"Maybe you're just feeling lonely, Larabee," Fowler suggested. "Or it could be the attraction between the two of you. It's unfortunate that we didn't know about it before we consolidated your living space. The way things are at the moment, with the war taking its toll, we don't have the manpower or the ability to rebuild the shielding. The war is finally beginning to come our way, but it's still slow going. You and Tanner are doing well, but I fear that with the pressures of the war and the records of how efficiently and quickly you increased the power yield with that one particular incident last month, some of our strategists are thinking that, with your assistance, they could get several of our major cannons on-line again. It would be quite an advantage for us right now."
"Ain't gonna happen, Fowler," he growled back. "Don't neither of us want it."
Fowler arched one eyebrow, pulling his cigar from his mouth. "This conversation suggests otherwise, Larabee. It seems to me that whatever this attraction is between the two of you, you are feeling its effects. Perhaps it would alleviate some of your discomfort if you and Tanner -"
"What would alleviate my discomfort would be the knowledge that I was under the control of someone I could trust to help me, not use me! I swear, Fowler, if I find out you set us up, that you fed us anything to make that happen, I'll find a way to get out of here and make you pay."
Chris slammed the connection closed so hard that he almost broke the bones in his hand. He was not lusting after Vin - hell, they'd hardly spoken since it had happened, certainly not been in the same room. They kept at least one door closed between them at all times, two most of the time. Whatever this damned thing was, it was not in Chris' head. He loved Buck and he wanted Buck. Not Vin.
Damn it. He didn't want Vin. Even if his body thought otherwise.
The dreams had started about ten days after - after . . . . It'd been a while, a long while, since he'd had one that involved arousal, since before he and Buck had moved in together. Their relationship had left his body little need for subconscious release.
He didn't remember the specifics of those dreams, just general impressions and certain situations. The first time here though, the dream was so intense that he awoke thinking he was actually in bed with someone, warm and sated and happy.
He held the euphoria until he realized he was alone, his belly smeared with his own release, and his dream lover not the man he loved. The blue eyes he'd dreamed of as he came hadn't been dark enough, the hair splayed against his pillowcase too long and too light.
The first time, he'd thought he was reacting to what had happened, some overload from the events that had caused the scene on the treadmill. But the second time it happened, he'd started to think about Fowler's demands and what he would do to get what he wanted. The third time, last night, he'd awakened certain that the bastard was playing them both to get his energy.
Even now, with all that Fowler demanded, he found it hard to believe that his body wanted more.
He'd refused to believe it when, in one of the rare communications with Vin, the other man had seemed confused at the suggestion that he, too, might have been having dreams of Chris. It couldn't just be him. It couldn't. That made no sense at all.
His computer 'beeped' the incoming connection sound and he glanced at monitor. Buck. He wasn't certain he was in the mood for this, but he hit 'receive' and his lover's smiling face filled the monitor.
"Chris!"
His cheerful attitude grated now, and all he could remember was anger at being surprised. "You giving Vin porn?" he demanded, glaring at the other man.
He wasn't at all surprised as Buck blinked, then laughed. "Thought it might help a little and seems I was right. Vin ain't having any trouble with - "
"Yeah, I heard," he interrupted. "And how the hell do you know? You and Fowler set up some way to watch him?"
The grin on Buck's face remained but it was tighter now. "Why, Chris? You want in on that action, too?"
Chris glared at him, but before he could retort, Buck went on, his arms crossed over his chest.
"'Course you already know about that, don't you. What he looks like when he - "
"I ain't interested in him!" Chris finally found his voice.
"You sure as hell talk about him enough!" Buck shot back.
"I do not!"
Buck stared at him, not saying anything. He didn't have to.
Chris turned away, angry, but not with Buck.
After a few seconds, Buck asked softly, "Is it the radiation? Or is it something else, Chris?"
"Ain't nothing," he said flatly, meaning it.
Wanting to mean it.
Buck went on as if he'd said nothing because, in truth, they both knew he had. "It's been a year, Chris. I know how lonely that makes a man. Hell, even one surrounded by people the way I am. At least I get to reach out and touch people every now and then, even if it is just friendly-like." He hesitated, and Chris felt the burn of anger again. "You ain't never been the most friendly of people, so I reckon it's probably taken you about this long to get that lonely."
"I ain't lonely," Chris snapped. He wasn't. How could he be, with Buck's constant chatter, and Mary's, and Fowler, goddamn him, and the other hundreds of people who seemed to want his attention day and night and -
"Not for talk," Buck agreed, his voice both sad and smug at the same time. "But then, you and Vin ain't never been much for talking. The two of you could sit for hours and say not one word to each other or anyone else, but you were happy with him."
"And we're happy now," Chris growled back. "We can talk just as much as we need to."
Buck snorted, his arms finally dropping from their defensive position. "He's the only person who can be in the same room with you, Chris. After almost a year of being alone, it ain't no wonder things happened the way they did."
"It wasn't like that! I ain't weak!" But his body moved, twisting away, and he knew he'd lied, not just to Buck but to himself.
Of the two of them, Buck was the more forgiving. "No, Chris," he said quietly, "you ain't. And not a one of us here would say that, even after what happened 'tween you and Vin."
"Nothing happened between us," he growled. "Nothing that means anything."
The silence lasted long enough that he thought that Buck might actually believe it.
"Then why are you scared of him?"
He whirled back to the monitor, furious at the accusation. "I am not scared of anybody!"
Buck smiled, but it was sad, as sad as his eyes. "That why you've banished him, locked him in his room and won't let him out?"
"I did not banish him!" And before Buck could argue the point, he severed this connection too. "Goddammit!" he yelled into the empty room. "He doesn't want to be with me anymore than I want to be with him!"
But the echo that came back to him knew the lie as well, both of them: he had banished Vin, blaming all of this on him - and the blame was without merit.
He paced for several minutes, the anger and frustration giving him more energy than he wanted, before finally reaching a point where he could think. After another minute or so, he walked back to the comm unit, reopening the link.
The room - their room was dark, just a faint light coming from the security lights. Buck was curled up on his side, alone in the bed, facing the camera. In the message scroll at the bottom of the screen, he read, 'wake me up', followed by Buck's sig line: 'there's more to life than drinkin' and fightin'.'
He sat for a long time, just watching the other man sleep.
+ 16 months, 13.23 days fusion point.
"Roll it, roll it!" Buck screamed even as he braced himself in his seat. He could smell the smoke and scorched metal, hoped that the weapons were still operating.Hoped that the men operating the weapons were okay.
Josiah struggled with the controls, cursing in ways Buck had never heard before, trying to keep their little ship in the air, trying to keep it out of the line of fire of the two Albie ships shadowing them. Buck heard the low thrum of the pulse engine gearing up, knew that at least JD was still back there. Then a cool voice called through his comm system, "Targeting port, cannon fire in three, two . . . ." He never called the 'one', never called the release, didn't have to.
Josiah kept the ship steady through the two beats, then rolled it hard, all of them feeling the hard jerk of gravity as the ship responded. There was a sharp push as something behind them exploded, then JD's loud, "Gotcha, you bastard! Great shot, Ez!"
But the words were barely out of his mouth when there was a stronger push, this one guiding them from one side, and an explosion far too close to home. Klaxons blared inside the ship, and she rolled again and again, a loud hum drowning out almost everything else.
"Direct hit, port side!" he heard Ezra call, his voice louder now but still calm, even as another explosion knocked them up - or something, he wasn't certain what was up or down, his orientation shot by the rolls.
"Damnation!" Josiah growled, his teeth clenched. "Stabilizer's gone, thrust is gone - can't get her balanced!" He was working it, too, Buck could see the muscles of his large biceps straining against the fabric of his uniform shirt.
Another shock and the speed of the rolling increased; he heard a shriek, then Ezra calling less calmly, "JD! Hold on - grab this!"
He managed to catch sight of his own video display, forcing himself to interpret it despite the nausea building in his belly.
Nathan's voice, barely audible, "He's alive! Hang on, kid!"
Ezra's voice, confirming what Buck could already tell from his panel. "Right side breached, we're losing atmosphere!"
"Don't matter," Josiah called out, "we're dropping anyway! You guys grab masks!"
Buck did, but it hardly mattered. Josiah managed some control of the craft, just enough to get them into the ocean. They hit hard, but the ship held together, and Josiah stayed conscious long enough to set a shield and a beacon.
+ 16 months, 14.02 days fusion point.
"How is he?" The words seemed to come from very far away, even though they sounded like his voice.Mary's face was tired and lined, her hair pulled back tighter than usual. This attack had been bad, so bad that the hospitals had called up everyone who could work. That was why this call was coming from her and not from one of the people guarding the blast doors.
"I don't know," she said simply. "He's in surgery now. JD, too. Ezra's pretty bad, but not critical, and Nathan and Josiah are mostly banged up and bloody. They're working search and rescue, though, trying to get other survivors out."
Chris nodded, unable to speak: Buck was so bad that Mary couldn't even lie to him.
"I'll keep you posted," she promised, but the words were distracted, her attention on something past the communication console. "Got to go - new ones coming in." She clicked off and he was left staring at a black screen.
He was cold. Buck's last words, from earlier that morning, played on an endless loop in his head: 'Love you, Chris. Talk to you tonight when we get done with this mission.' They'd just barely gotten past the upheaval of the past several days, just gotten back to a common ground.
There was a buzz on his comm and he glanced down, hoping it was Mary. No such luck; the i.d. was Vin's.
He ignored it, and after a few seconds, it stopped.
He hadn't been there. Not that that would have made a difference, his team was one of the best. And even though they were short two men, almost every team out there was right now. The attrition was horrible.
He got up, walked around the room, restless.
Angry.
The comm buzzed again and he strode back to the desk. Vin, again, dammit. He almost opened it to yell at him, tell him to fuck off, to leave the unit free. But he didn't want to do even that. He turned away again, pacing more. All he could think of was Buck. JD was hurt too, bad, Ezra was concussed. The ship was lost, he knew. Not that it mattered; he doubted he'd ever have seen it again.
Buck.
He found himself standing still, staring at the random images of the screen-saver, drifting across the front of his monitor. Thinking about all the years he'd known Buck, all the things they'd shared. All the times Buck had stood by him, through Sarah and Adam and losing them, through this.
He couldn't be there for him, couldn't talk him through this, couldn't hold his hand, couldn't touch him -
He jerked when he heard the sound of the door sliding open, expecting to see orange radiation suits, thinking that it had happened, Buck had died and they were going to brave the dangers and tell him in person.
But the person who stepped through wasn't orange, even though he glowed a little yellow in the dimness.
He was so relieved that he didn't muster complete anger, just enough to snap, "Get the hell out of here! Ain't I got enough problems without you jerking my cock?"
Vin stared at him, his eyes hard, but his face was haggard, and his voice was flat as he said, "They're my friends, too. Figure don't neither one of us need to be alone."
He didn't come any closer, but he leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.
'But then, you and Vin ain't never been much for talking. The two of you could sit for hours and say not one word to each other or anyone else, but you were happy with him.' Buck's words from not so long ago.
Chris sighed, crossing his own arms defensively. He was still angry, but it was being gnawed at by worry.
He stared at the monitor, willing them to call.
By the time they did, several hours later, he and Vin were both sitting on opposite sides of the room, Vin on the floor and Chris in his desk chair. They were both quiet, no words between them. But nothing had happened, and he thought maybe it was some sort of reward for that when Mary smiled tiredly at him, her words clear. "He's okay. Gonna hurt for a while, but he'll live. JD will too."
Chris nodded, the relief so strong he thought he might forget to breathe. "Can I . . ." It hurt to ask, to consider that he couldn't. He closed his eyes, his stomach tight with a sense of failure.
"I'll have a monitor set up as soon as he's awake, Chris," she answered quietly. "I promise."
"Thanks," he nodded, not opening his eyes, even as they leaked just a little.
"I'll be in touch," she murmured, and he heard the distinctive click of the network closing.
There was no sound, but he felt the shift in the air around him just before the tentative touch to his shoulder.
"Dammit," he muttered, but his throat closed and the word didn't quite come out, and his traitorous body turned into the strong arms of the only person who could touch him. There was a sort of tingle, like the shock but softer, and in its way, soothing. "Get away from me."
The words were garbled to the point that even he wondered if he'd said what he thought he had said, but Vin's answer was soft and sure.
"Ain't nothing gonna happen, Chris. I ain't gonna let it. They're all right, that's all that matters."
And for now, it was.
+ 16 months, 16.27 days fusion point.
Buck rolled to one side, trying to ignore the pull of the stitches in his shoulder, the bruises along his ribs and back. Mostly trying to ignore the thunder in his head. Concussion, Mary told him, serious head wound compounded by blood loss from the artery that had been ripped open when the ship had crashed and the frame had folded back on them. He'd been lucky to get out with his leg, luckier still to get out alive.He owed Josiah his life. Again.
"Buck?"
He smiled. Chris.
"You awake? Buck?"
He opened his eyes, working on getting them to focus. It took him a few seconds to acclimate, not so much to the room, which he remembered, but to the memory of why he was looking at his lover on a monitor, not in person.
But the fear and the worry were real enough, shining through that connection. "I'm here, Chris," he mumbled, trying to lift a hand to wave at him.
His vision was blurry, his head still aching, but he saw the relief and joy wash across his lover's face, clear as sunshine. "Scared the fuck out of us this time," Chris said, and even though he tried to make it sound annoyed, Buck heard the fear in it.
"I'll try to do better next time," he mumbled, but smiled. "Everybody else all right?" He had a vague memory of JD and being worried, but it wouldn't quite come to the surface of his mind at the moment.
"Everybody you care about," Chris answered. "JD's in worse shape than you are, but he's gonna be all right."
Something caught in Buck's throat, and he choked out, "JD? How bad?" He was awake now, completely, the adrenalin dulling the pain.
"He's all right," Chris repeated, more slowly. "He's still in intensive care, but Josiah and Nathan are there now, and they both say he's doing fine. Mary says they're going to move him to his own room soon, just as soon as he's coherent for more than an hour."
The thing in his throat eased back a little and he could breathe enough to say, "Gonna heal all right? No major problems?"
Chris did smile then. "No, he's got all his parts and his memory seems to be working. Probably better than yours."
"Wouldn't be hard," Buck admitted, the throb returning as the adrenalin lessened.
"Do you remember what happened?"
He closed his eyes, letting his mind wander, putting together random pieces until he had the images: the fight, the ship being hit, Josiah trying to get it down . . . "Yeah," he sighed, opening his eyes. "I got it."
Chris was silent for so long that Buck actually worked through it all before realizing his lover was still there.
"How bad is it?" Chris asked, his voice soft, and Buck saw the anguish. He closed his eyes.
"The war?" he asked, hurting too much to really think about his answer here. "The Albies are desperate. They're sending in their big ships, now, and if we can knock them out, they'll have to stay out of our way for a while, hopefully long enough to rebuild our own fleet and resources."
"If we can knock them out?" Chris asked, his voice. "Why can't we do that?"
Buck felt the pull of sleep, the drugs rising in his system. "Don't know," he mumbled, just before he slipt into darkness. "Love you."
"Love you, too," he thought Chris said, but it could have been a dream.
+ 16 months, 21.99 days fusion point
Vin waited. And watched. He sat still on the far side of the room, behind the desk and monitor, his arms folded easily over this chest, his eyes half-closed as Chris paced back and forth in front of the door. So he could make a quick exit, Vin knew.He would have smiled, even made some sort of teasing comment, had he not known that Chris would bolt out the door at the first sign of - well, anything that wasn't under Chris' control.
It was a sign of how serious this was, that Chris had come to him, come into his room.
Eventually, Chris sighed, his hands sliding nervously along the outer seam of his uniform pants. He didn't look at Vin, but his words were sharp and clear, his command voice. "I talked to Fowler. The war, they think they could put it in a stalemate if they could knock out the two battle-cruisers. Our intel says that they're the last two that the Albies have operating. If we can knock them out, they'll have to pull back, at least long enough for us to get our fleet back in force."
None of this was news to Vin - well, other than the fact that Chris had actually gone to Fowler for confirmation.
Which meant . . .
His eyes opened wider and he straightened, his stomach knotting. "No," he said softly, and even as the word passed his lips, he was on his feet. "That ain't even funny, Chris, in so many ways."
But Vin knew, and to his credit, Chris Larabee wasn't a coward. He stopped, swallowed, and looked up. His eyes were stark and desperate. "There are people dying out there, Vin, our people. Next time, Buck and JD might not be so lucky. We can do something to stop this. And we're the only two who can."
Vin stared at him, his mouth dry. The argument made sense, too much. He'd been trying not to think on it himself.
Trying not to remember how it had felt to have Chris' hands on him. To have someone, anyone, touch him.
"Vin," Chris said, his desperation hanging in the air between them, "you know how much I hate Fowler. But this . . . this is bigger than him. Bigger than us."
A small part of him, the part that wasn't shocked and maybe even terrified, wondered if Chris would be arguing so hard if someone other than Buck had been hurt in that battle. Maybe it wasn't important right now, but he was still angry about being blamed for everything that had happened before, and especially for Chris' rejection of him.
Angry for thinking about what they had done and wanting it again.
"Vin?" Chris asked, and he had the nerve to take a step closer. "Fowler can explain it to you, if you want, or Mary, or -"
"I ain't stupid," he heard himself say, even as that strange thrum started somewhere low in his belly and his skin prickled slightly. "You're just barely speaking to me now, Chris. What the hell are you gonna be like if we do it again? And Buck - I don't look to be on the wrong end of his temper, he's my friend too and we ain't got too many of those right now."
"At least he'll be alive to be pissed," Chris said softly. "Him and JD and Josiah and Nathan and Ezra - Vin, they need to knock out two Albie battle-cruisers. Under other circumstances, the three laser cannons wouldn't make a dent, but Fowler says that the Albies don't think we've got the power, and truth be told, we don't. Only you and I can do it, Vin. When we were together," he hesitated, swallowing, then rushed on, "the combination of the energy from us coming together seemed to . . . well, grow. Did Fowler talk to you about what happened?"
Vin shivered, partly at the words and partly at the way Chris was looking at him. At what he was suggesting. "Did you talk to Buck?" he countered, trying to step away. The wall was behind him, though, and he angled, working to keep the desk between them. The strange tension was coiling through him, the part that was not him but the radiation. It vibrated like an itch but more, not quite hurting but not feeling good. He had to get away from Chris before it took over, controlling his body more surely than he himself did. Like it had on the treadmill.
Chris stopped, and from the look on his face Vin knew it was the mention of Buck's name. He forced himself to talk now, hoping to give them both time to think. "I know what Fowler thinks, that our energies are just different enough to feed each other, and with the intensity of the . . . charge, I guess, from gettin' off, the two energies were at their best and just multiplied. Which is why if we do it together, and get off about the same time, then yeah, we could do a lot more than what we do when it's just one of us."
"Synergy," Chris said softly. "That's what he calls it." He took a step behind the desk.
"So why hasn't he been pushing this?" Vin asked, moving another step away. "If they think it's the only way, why isn't he the one in here demanding that I let you . . . " He stopped, unable to finish the thought. He wasn't interested in sex with Chris, or with any man.
He wasn't.
This thing that was beginning to stir in his groin was something else entirely, fucking radiation.
Chris took a deep breath. "He will be, in about three days," he said quietly. "And it'll be on their terms. He'll flood the vents with drugs to make us horny, lower our defenses, probably lace your food with something to lower your inhibitions, give me something to make me more aggressive. He says he didn't do that before, didn't do anything to bring about what happened last time. He might not have then. But he will soon, Vin. He said it."
Vin couldn't breathe, had to turn away. He didn't doubt Chris, not for an instant.
Nausea roiled through his gut, curbing the tension building lower, but not a lot.
"No," Chris said, his voice still soft, "I haven't talked to Buck, he's barely conscious, heavily medicated, still sleeping most of the time. He may never forgive me. But I can't go through this again, Vin, not if I have the power to stop it. I lost Sarah and Adam, and I almost lost Buck. This time - this time I can stop it. I can provide the means to save him, and maybe everybody else we give a damn about it. And you and me are the only two who can. So even if he never speaks to me again, at least he'll be alive to be angry at me."
At us, Vin amended in his head, one less person he cared about. Out loud, he said, "And if I don't want to?"
Chris didn't answer, and after a few seconds, the silence was answer enough. Vin pulled his arms more tightly around himself, willing his stomach to be stable.
"I won't hurt you," Chris murmured, "You can just lie there, with your eyes closed. Hell, Buck taught me everything I know, it'll be so good you won't know that it's not a woman -"
"Shut up," he spat, "just shut up." The shivering was worse now, a tremble that grew stronger as he heard Chris move closer, the tugging in his belly and balls more warning than the sounds.
He started to turn, to keep distance between them, but Chris was already there. His fingers were tight on Vin's shoulders, his breath warm against Vin's cheek, his chest strong against Vin's back. The simple contact shot a jolt through him, a current that reached deep into his body and his mind, scattering his resistance. He barely made out Chris' words, the pounding in his head, the thrum of the electricity and atomic karma between them driving out his ability to concentrate.
"Let me do this," he whispered, "let me do this for all of us."
It was too late, the need sparking through his body at the points where Chris was touching him, the vibration in his groin building to a true desire. But his rational mind held on for just a few more seconds, fighting this perverse want.
"Don't," he tried to pull away, to escape the contact. "Chris, please, don't -"
But a hand was already sliding down his chest, slow and easy, one thumb stroking over a nipple, then one practiced fingertip slipping into his belly button, swirling slowly inside it. Current shot through him in flashes of tantalizing sensation, stirring things that not even Charlotte had reached. At the same time, Chris pushed against him, and it was impossible to mistake the hard length of his erection bruising Vin's ass. There as no mistaking who he was with. Chris could talk the game all he wanted, but Vin knew that there would never be a chance for him to think that the person in his bed was anything other than a man, and that that man was Chris Larabee.
The thought repulsed him, made his ass clench and his hands want to rub at his hip, to wipe away the imprint of another man's cock on him.
But no matter what his mind wanted, his own body was still pulsing, blood flowing to all the wrong places, as if following the trail Chris was blazing.
The trail that was drifting slowly past the waistband of his sweatpants, toward the erection that was rising to meet it.
No. No no no - he managed to push away, pull himself free, and move out of reach long enough to turn to face the other man. He was breathing hard, harder than he should have been, and his head was clouded as if he were drugged already.
"Three days?" he said, his voice unfamiliar to his own ears, low and throaty with need. "You sure he ain't, or you ain't already set this game into play?"
"The radiation," Chris said, his eyes flaring with streaks of gold. "Whatever it is inside us wants this, just like it did before." His voice was low, warm as it twisted around in his head. "You want it," he looked down at Vin's groin, his gaze caressing. "You want me to touch you, to make you come."
Just the sound of those words alone almost did it, and his found himself gripping the edge of the desk to hold himself up. "Don't," he said, or tried to; it was so garbled that it came out as a moan.
Chris moved fast, and even though Vin moved, trying to dodge, he stumbled and found himself pressed up against the wall, Chris pinning him with his body. The full contact broke the last of his control, and he was barely able to hold his thoughts together.
Just like last time, the voice drifted through his mind, but it was faint and growing fainter as Chris hands pushed at his waistband, one hand closing on his cock.
"No," he said, thought he said, tried to say, "not again," but his mouth not longer worked for speech, too busy trying to keep air in his lungs. His own hands clutched Chris' biceps to try to stop this - until Chris' dick was against his, one of Chris' hands working them both at the same time, pressing them together and it was one of the best things he'd ever felt.
He gasped and panted, barely able to hear Chris' own terse words, "That's it, come on, Vin, let it happen, let it happen." His hips jerked with the rhythm Chris set, and he was barely aware of Chris' free hand sliding down his back and pushing his sweat pants down as those knowing fingers stroked his ass, barely aware of the kneading at his flexing muscle, barely aware of anything except the building orgasm - until two of those fingers slipped into the cleft and started downward.
He arched back, trying to draw out of reach of the exploration, but the angle gave him more sensation in the front, bringing him closer to release.
"Shhhh," Chris murmured against his ear, "not gonna hurt you, almost there," and while he might have been talking about release, he might also have meant the spare second before he brushed over the small opening that drew tight defensively. "You're gonna come so hard," he promised, "like nothing you ever felt before."
A strong pull on his cock distracted him, sweat and precum smearing as they slid together wonderfully, so that he barely had time to register the penetration until Chris' slim finger was pushing into him, sending arcs of repellant pleasure through him.
"No, oh, god, no, Chris," he was babbling, his mouth as far away from his control as the hands doing these things to him, then Chris' mouth was at his throat, sucking and biting, his upper body braced against the wall, supporting them both as he was pushed and pulled between mirror motions until Chris touched something inside and his body seemed to shatter and everything went white.
16 month, 25.34 days fusion point
"I'm all right, Buck," JD said, but it was so soft that Buck leaned closer over the bed. "Today's the day you're getting out of here," JD continued, his eyes bright with the pain killers he was on."Just out of that bed," Buck agreed. "You know I ain't going far away from you, boy, gotta teach you how to treat all these nice people taking care of you."
JD smiled up at him, but then winced. His hands dug into the mattress of the hospital bed as he tried to shift, and Buck reached out quickly, catching his hips.
"Hang on, JD," he said, carefully lifting and easing his friend over a little. "You ain't supposed to be doing that on your own yet."
"Been ten days," JD murmured, but he sighed, slowly relaxing back into the bed. "I'm ready for this to be done."
"I know you are," Buck soothed, one hand lightly patting JD's shoulder as he drew back up. "Rather it were me in that bed."
JD was fading in and out, his eyes blinking as he tried to stay awake and focused. "I'm all right," he repeated, his words slurred. "You worry too much."
Buck grinned, but his voice was soft as he said, "You go on to sleep. I'll check back later this afternoon."
JD made as if to argue, but the drugs finally caught up and he was under, only a sigh passing his lips.
Buck leaned on the railing of the bed, trying not to think about how true his words had been. He would rather have been in JD's place, not just to save the kid the pain of healing after almost dying, but to save himself from a different sort of pain.
'I'll do whatever I have to, Buck, but I'm not going to stand by and do nothing while they hurt the people I care about.'
He hadn't been surprised at the words, not really. The first time he'd heard them, he's been half aware, lost in his own pain-and-drug-induced numbness.
It had taken the third rendering to finally make sense, that and the sadness on Chris' face.
The silence from Vin.
He'd made it almost a day before the pain of it had become too much and he'd reactivated his comm and called Chris. It hadn't taken long for the anger to return, and he'd ended the call with the two of them yelling at each other and Mizo, the night-duty nurse, taking the comm unit out of the room.
They'd given it back, but only under the promise that he would take it easy. He'd talked to Chris since then, short conversations, nothing important said about them or about Vin. It'd been bizarre, this distance between them, this sudden filter on the words that had always come so easily.
Last night, he'd tried to call Vin.
It had been a relief when the other man hadn't answered.
"Buck?"
He looked up to find Josiah standing just inside the door of JD's room, his pale eyes concerned.
"He's sleeping," Buck said softly, adjusting the sheet covering his friend. "Lot of pain."
Josiah stepped farther into the room, looking down at JD as well. "Being alive hurts," the older man said quietly. "I doubt I have to tell you that right now."
Buck knew he wasn't referring only to the bandage wrapped around his head or the cane he'd be using for a while yet. "You talked to Vin lately?" he asked, not looking up from JD.
"Went by last night," Josiah answered. "He's not real sociable right now."
He spoke without thinking, not wanting to feel the sympathy Josiah was trying to force on him. "Guess he's got all the company he could want."
Josiah waited a few seconds, then said, still quietly, "No, he's got all the company you want, Buck. It's far from the company he wants."
It was a mild reminder, but a reminder nonetheless. Buck sighed, shifting his balance. His leg was starting to hurt.
"You ready to get out of here?" Josiah asked.
He was, but the thought of returning to the room that he had shared with Chris was once more unappealing. This was getting old, this whole thing.
"You up for some lunch?" he asked, looking at the other man. "I'm buying."
Josiah grinned at him, reading his mind. "With enough salsa, even the same old rations can be made to taste good."
It was delaying the inevitable, but for the moment, he'd take it.
16 months, 29.37 days fusion point
"Is there a problem, Tanner?"Vin swallowed, staring at the man before him, willing his mouth to work. "What are you doing to me?"
Cletus Fowler tilted his head to one side, not smiling but not angry either. He used two fingers to take the cigar from his mouth then said, "Trying to help you," he answered. "Trying to make this easier for you to accept."
"By forcing me?" he asked, or tried to. His mouth was dry, one of the many side effects from the drugs he knew Fowler was giving him. Once he'd realized he what was happening, he had tried not to eat or drink, but Fowler had put the chemicals in the air; when things had gotten progressively worse for them both, he'd told them that if they'd stop fighting - if Vin would stop fighting, since Chris was already completely on board with the plan, then he'd make sure they only got the ones they needed, not a complete range of everything.
"No one's forcing you, not in a literal sense," Fowler said calmly. "I understand that you're not welcoming this with open arms, but the truth of the matter is that it has to be done, and this way seems to be effective for the moment. Larabee doesn't have the stomach for making you do it, and we can't seem to prevail upon your sense of duty or responsibility, so I have authorized a series of measures that will lessen your concerns on the issue."
Vin tried to swallow again, but there was barely enough spit.
"You should drink more water," Fowler said. "The side effects will be more tolerable."
Anger tried to catch in him, a spark at the far back of his mind, but it was like wet tinder trying to take fire, more smoke than heat. It had been the thing he'd held on to, this anger, to try to keep Chris away, to try to hate them for what they were doing to him. It had been the first thing Fowler's drugs had taken.
Fowler studied him for a few seconds. "I don't envy you," he said, rolling his cigar between his fingers. "I imagine this must be quite confusing for you, to find physical pleasure with another man, a close friend even. Perhaps with pharmaceutical assistance, you can have a certain peace of mind."
"Fuck you," he said, but just getting the words out seemed to use all his energy.
"You know, Lieutenant Tanner," Fowler went on after another pause, his voice a little tighter, "the drugs are good, and they're strong, damned strong. Have to be to get through the radiation your bodies are producing. But they can't make you change something as fundamental as sexuality. The radiation itself might have, if you subscribe to the theory that who and what arouses you is tied to your DNA." He put the cigar back in his mouth, his eyes calm as they met Vin's. "Maybe you should stop fighting so hard. You don't have much to enjoy right now, Tanner, but I think if it were me, I'd hang on to what little pleasure I could have."
"Kinda hard to trust a man who gets more out of me gettin' off than I do," he managed to say.
Fowler shook his head. "You say that like I'm personally receiving money or benefits from what the two of you are doing. I'm not, Tanner. The only thing I'm getting is the same thing everybody left on this planet is getting: the possibility of another day of living free of Albie enslavement." He shrugged. "That and the joy of you fighting it every step of the way, of watching you destroy yourself and your friendships with your team members, while ignoring the fact that you and Larabee are the only two people who can offer this planet any hope of survival."
Vin wanted to say something, to find a way to deny it, but even as the words started forming, he thought of his last talk with JD and how he had looked, pale and slender, and wrapped in bandages, barely able to move in the hospital bed. The kid's voice faded in and out as he declared his support of Vin and how horrible it was for him and for Chris, all the while the machines hummed and beeped in the background, keeping him from feeling pain.
Machines that were working because of him, and Chris, and what they did together.
If JD ever made that connection . . .
"Sit down, Tanner," Fowler's voice cut through the haze in his head. "You don't look well."
There was a chime, Chris at the door. Something flipped in his belly, nerves, he had told himself, but it seemed to be more like want, now, more like what it had been when he knew it was Charlotte on the other side.
"Vin?" Chris called, his voice muffled by the walls between them. "You all right?"
He gripped the edge of the table, light-headed. "Leave me alone," he croaked, not sure where he could go.
"Tanner," Fowler's voice sounded sharp in his ears, "take your pleasure where you can get it."
"Vin?" Chris' voice was louder now, and he saw the doors to his room opening, even though he was certain he had locked them.
He looked around, trying to find something to put between them, some way, any way, to keep Chris from touching him. But it was already too late.
"Vin," Chris arms were warm around him, holding him. "It's all right."
He stomach flipped again, flutters following. The attraction, he told himself, the physical one. But even as he tried to convince himself, something else settled in him, his body relaxing against the one behind it.
Chris was talking, his voice loud and irritated but Vin couldn't make out words, only the short, even cadence of Fowler's voice and a long snarl that was unmistakably from Chris. Then there was silence except for whispers against his hair and the rushing of blood through his veins as his body heated up. Eventually, as the radiation took control, drawn to Chris like air into a vacuum, some of his senses cleared. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see, but he couldn't stop his brain from finally understanding the plea.
" . . . Buck hasn't called me. I can't do it, not by myself, Vin, you've got to help me, please, just... please . . . "
He didn't open his eyes, just leaned against Chris more. "Fowler's drugging us, Chris, he's making us do this."
"Don't matter right now," Chris said, one of his hands rubbing over Vin's belly through the thin cloth of his under shirt. "We only got to do it a little longer, until the war's over. But it's got to be good this time, Vin, got to be stronger. I can't do it all. You got to want it, got to help me."
The press of a hard cock against his hip didn't suggest that Chris needed help, but Vin knew that last time had been less successful, for Chris, anyway. Vin had been as helpless as he always was when Chris focused his sexual attention on him, unable to stop his body from doing exactly what Chris wanted.
But Chris hadn't been as excited, and it had taken him longer to reach orgasm. Too long. Their combined energy hadn't been nearly enough, so they were having to do it again.
Vin had lost count of how many times they had had to 'do it again', but then he'd lost track of time now what with all the drugs.
Chris' hand was slipping lower now, going straight to the growing swell of Vin's groin.
"Help me," Chris said into Vin's neck, "help me make this good for both of us."
'Make this good'.
He wanted it to be good... wanted it to be the last time... wanted not to fear this man. The flutters in his stomach would go away, the want for Chris would go away, it had to.
He wanted not to live in this mire of confusion and desperation and self-doubt.
He didn't say anything, but Chris knew. His hand pressed harder, drawing Vin's erection to fullness as his own dug deeper into Vin's hip.
The need was building, fast and deep like it always did, so that he lost himself to it, giving himself over to Chris. But that wasn't enough, not this time. Chris' groan pulled him out of the acceptance just before the hand pulling at him was gone, leaving behind an ache that went bone-deep.
"You're close," Chris panted in his ear, "but I'm not, and we need it to be together."
"What do you want?" Vin asked, his head clearing now that his blood was boiling. He reached back, moving his hand between them to grip the cock he knew almost as well as his own; strange that the thought no longer scared him as much as it had just days - or was it minutes? - before.
Chris' breath caught at the touch and he gave a little noise. Then one of Chris' hands caught Vin's, pulling and guiding him past the loose cloth of the workout pants and down to bare skin.
The heat rose higher between them, bare skin to bare skin bringing Chris closer, but almost putting Vin over the edge. Chris guided the play, and while he put his hand back to its own work on Vin, he kept the boundary of Vin's clothes between them. 'Like a firecracker,' Chris had said, and until now, Vin had been glad that his body was so fast in this, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.
But it wasn't the way Chris needed it, not if they were to end this forced relationship, and Chris was walking the line between keeping Vin going but not going too far.
A handjob alone wasn't going to do it either, Vin realized when it was clear that Chris' desire had reached a plateau.
"You're close," Chris whispered; it wasn't a question. "Come here."
He turned Vin, drawing his hand away and his arm from its awkward angle. Vin hardly had time to register the relief of it before he was bent backwards, his lower body trapped between his damnable, useless desk, and this man who had become his reluctant lover.
His hands framed Vin's face, keeping his lips parted and his jaw braced open by the pressure of Chris' thumbs at the hinges. Chris stared into his eyes, willing him to submission, to surrender his control.
"Suck me," Chris ordered, the words blowing over Vin's face. "Won't take much, probably just your tongue on it will put me right over, it's been so long. Need to feel something other than your hand, Vin, please."
It wasn't what Vin had been expecting and it surprised him. Before he could get his mind on it, Chris was on top of him, biting at his throat, marking him, his hands guiding Vin's head where he wanted so he could claim the flesh he'd already bruised.
Vin struggled, trying to get his arms between them, to push Chris off, but Chris pulled back again, staring straight into his eyes. "Won't take much," he repeated, his hands even tighter around Vin's head, the muscles of his forearms tensing, "just a few licks, take it in your mouth, you got a pretty mouth, almost as sexy as Buck's"
Chris rambled on, but Vin wasn't listening, his concentration beginning to fray so that all he could focus on was the idea of putting another man's dick in his mouth.
Chris', a little voice rang out, it's Chris', but the flutter in his stomach had turned to nausea, bile crawling up his throat to his mouth.
Chris was backing away, drawing him up but just as quickly pushing him down, wanting him on his knees, wanting him to -
"No," he finally managed to say, "not that, no - wait, Chris!" He pushed at Chris' chest, trying to stop the demand, trying to break the hold. It didn't work; the drugs made him weak, Chris' touch made him weak, but something in the sound of his voice must have gotten through the single-mindedness in Chris, because he stopped pushing.
"Vin," he said, his voice as thin as Vin's, "I gotta have something, I can't - "
"I know," Vin cut him off, closing his eyes. "I know, just, not, not that." He tried to think, but it was useless; his own need was hurting, not just in his groin but in his very skin, the attraction between them craving the connection with Chris, his physical body on the sharp edge between two different kinds of pain.
Chris shifted, his fingers flexing as if he would push again, and Vin swallowed. His hands shook as he moved them to his waistband; even through his eyelids, he could see the green and gold flash of Chris' gaze as he tracked the movement.
Chris went completely still, not even breathing, when he realized what Vin was offering. But the low-level hum that vibrated through the space between them, palpable in the gathering of lust, grew louder in Vin's head.
He managed to slip the pants down to his thighs, his erection bouncing against his belly and temporarily curbed by the exposure to the cooler air.
"You sure?" Chris asked, one of his hands already moving to the pocket of his pants, fumbling for something.
No, he wasn't sure, he didn't want any of it, but the protest died before his mouth, 'almost as sexy as Buck's,' could form it, lost in the fingers Chris shoved past his teeth.
"Swallow," Chris commanded, and even as he wondered what in the hell this was about, he did as he was bid, wondering if this was what Chris planned to do to slick him. He shivered, sweat growing cold at the idea of what was about to happen, then felt something sliding down his throat.
Chris's fingers were already gone. "Make it easier," he said, "won't take long." His hands settled on Vin's upper arms before he was turned again, and bent over his own desk.
It didn't take long; lethargy spread from his belly out, his muscles relaxing to the point that his arms folded under him, not bearing his weight against the force of Chris' wish. Chris placed him, head down and turned with the right side of his face against the cool metal of the uncluttered desk top, his back curved so that his ass rose into the air.
"God," Chris murmured, his hands stroking over Vin's body, pushing the shirt up to his shoulders then the workout pants down to the floor. Exposing him, he thought, and he knew he should feel shame or fear or anger, but nothing came. Not only was his body no longer his, neither was his mind.
From there, the pieces of himself scattered more. He had flashes of awareness, of Chris stroking him, the grip strong and demanding, of something wet and thick dripping onto his back and oozing into the virgin space between his legs, of Chris touching him in his most private place, fingers sliding in as they had before, but deeper and wider, stretching.
Of pain as something wide and big pushed against him, trying to get in. He twisted, tried to, but his body was heavy and dull, the effort doing little more than shifting the invader upward, so that it slid burningly along the cleft of his ass. The pain was distant but distracting enough to turn the tide on his own need, so that the rough pulling on his cock lost its influence, his erection fading.
"Dammit," he heard Chris grunt, "come on, Vin," but the more Chris tried, the less Vin's body responded.
Not that it stopped the strange currents of energy pulling between them, but it did seem to slow them.
Chris drew back, shifting even as his hand moved more pleasantly over Vin's groin. The thrill started building again, but it was slower and weaker now, not with the intensity of before - any of the times before. The drugs, he thought, with a certain vindictive pleasure.
When the orgasm came, it washed through him like a tide, a release that wasn't so much a climax as a relief. He felt the energy expulsion, heard Chris whimper and curse. The grinding against him intensified, knocking him against his desk. He knew he'd have bruises in the morning and be sore from this, but not in the way he feared most, as Chris had never managed the penetration.
Chris grunted, pushed hard against him again, then locked, his body rigid. The air around them rippled, his skin buzzed, and his insides grated, like sand between two rocks.
But the sound of one word hung in the air, stabbing deep into his mind as it echoed through him, Chris' voice rich with bitterness: "Buck!"