by Kim
This follows Green Light in the M7-SoA crossover A/U. Thanks again to Nancy and Marnie.
Immediately following Green Light
Chris wasn't sure how much time had passed when he was startled out of his thoughts by a knock on his office door. "Come in," he called.
The door opened and Chris was struck by how quiet it was. Party must be over, he thought. Confirmation in the form of Vin stepped into the office. He was wearing jeans and nothing else. "Close the door," Chris told him.
Vin complied and turned back to him. "Josiah told me you wanted me," Vin said. "You want your turn?" he asked already unzipping his jeans. His voice was flat and emotionless.
Chris shook his head. "Sit down," he said. He got a glass, poured a generous amount of whiskey into it, and handed it to Vin.
Vin took the whiskey and sat carefully in the chair opposite of Chris. Fuck! His hands were shaking. He sat the whiskey down on the corner of Chris's desk put his hands in his lap to hide the tremors from Chris. "You don't want to fuck me, what do you want?" he asked. He was tired. Whatever Chris wanted, he just wanted to give it to him and go to bed. Fuck, where was he going to sleep? He'd been sleeping in one of the upstairs bedrooms for the past two weeks, but anyone could come in and claim his ass or his mouth. After the past few hours, Vin just wanted someplace to sleep where he wouldn't be bothered.
Chris studied Vin before he answered. Vin's hair was a tangled mess. He was moving stiffly. He looked pale and he reeked of sex, but there was no other indication of how he'd spent the past few hours. "You OK?" he asked quietly.
Vin's mouth dropped open. "Sure, Chris." His bitter voice lost its emotionless tone. "One minute I'm stocking the bar, the next minute I'm takin' on a dozen guys two at a time. Why wouldn't I be OK?" He grabbed the whiskey, needing it more than he didn't want Chris to see his hands shaking. He tossed it back. "Fuck!" he said "I'm gonna be sick." He looked around desperately for someplace to throw up the contents of his suddenly heaving stomach. Chris thrust a small trashcan from under his desk in front of Vin just in time. Vin lost the whiskey and everything else in his stomach. Chris held his hair out of the way until Vin stopped heaving. "Fuck," Vin moaned and leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed. "Guess cum and Jack don't mix," he muttered.
"Guess not," Chris replied.
"Why?" Vin asked. He couldn't keep a note of hurt out of his voice. "You knew what was gonna go down."
"Club rules." Chris knew the lame explanation wouldn't fly even as he said it.
Vin picked up the empty glass and threw it against the door. "You're a fucking liar!" he scoffed. "That shit had nothin' to do with club rules. You painted a target on my ass, and pointed their dicks at it and you're too much of a pussy to tell me why. Well, fuck you and your whole goddamned club!"
Vin was halfway to the back door before Chris realized his intentions. Chris rushed over and slammed the door shut before Vin could get it open more than a few inches. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" he demanded. "You don't even have your goddamned boots!"
"None of your fucking business!" Vin snarled. He tried to pull the door open again, only to have Chris slam it again. "Get outta my way!" he demanded.
"Can't do that," Chris retorted. "Don't want to," he added in a softer voice.
"I don't give a shit what you want!" Vin snarled, frustration evident in the higher pitch of his voice and the white knuckles gripping the doorknob. His other hand was clenched into a tight fist. The muscles along his shoulders were high and tight. "Just let me go," he said his voice close to breaking. "I'll be out of this town before morning."
"You know I can't do that," Chris said softly. Vin flinched away from the hand Chris put on his shoulder. "Didn't want to do it that way," he said.
Vin's mouth dropped open and his brow furrowed. He laughed soft and bitter. His mouth twisted into a cynical grimace. He shook his head. "My mistake," he said sarcastically. "I shoulda got that when you told 'em to have fun and went back in your goddamned office." He pushed Chris out of the way and dropped heavily back into the chair. He tried to hide the wince when his ass hit the cushion. "Just tell me why you wanted me so I can get the hell out of here," he said, his voice rough with exhaustion and emotion.
Chris closed his eyes and leaned heavily against the door for several seconds. Buck had been right, as usual. He couldn't make this right. Right now, not making it worse seemed pretty damned impossible, too. He took the time to grab a flannel shirt hanging off a hook by the back door that he sometimes wore. He dropped the shirt into Vin's lap. "Put that on," he said.
Vin did so without a word.
"The club's got rules. I broke 'em." Chris admitted. "The members were getting pissed. Even the club president has to follow the rules. If I didn't take the red light off, it could have gotten a lot uglier than that was."
Vin's face reflected the incredulity in his voice. "You wanna tell me how it gets uglier than that?"
"I don't take the red light off, maybe they take it off themselves," Chris said. "Maybe four or five of them maybe more take you someplace nice and private and have themselves a party, without anyone playing traffic cop. No holds barred," he said. He gave Vin a minute to digest that, and then asked quietly. "Anybody hit you out there?"
"No," Vin answered.
"Anybody get rough?" Chris asked.
"Eli Joe tried," Vin admitted. "Josiah stopped 'im."
"That's why," Chris said. "I took the red light off, let them at you here, so it was controlled. I know it wasn't fun, but Josiah and Buck made sure nobody got out of line."
"Guess I should thank you, then," Vin said flatly. "Thanks for not lettin' 'em beat the shit out of me."
"No! You shouldn't thank me," Chris retorted. "It shouldn't have happened at all. I fucked up the first time I didn't let Eli Joe fuck you when he wanted to! I fucked up every day after that, when I was bringing you in this office and not letting anyone else try you out!"
"I didn't ask for that," Vin reminded him. "I know the score. Any member, anytime. That was the deal."
"It was the deal," Chris agreed, "until I changed it. The club was paying your bills and your debt and I was the only one getting any ass. Can't be like that."
"Didn't expect it to be like that," Vin said. "Never asked for it." His voice was getting rougher with every word. "I been whoring for a long time. I worked out of bars, on the streets, had myself a few sugar daddies and more than a few pimps. And, I never felt like trash before." His voice broke and he stood up abruptly and turned away from Chris.
Chris closed his eyes and swallowed hard to keep his own emotions under control. He got up and went to stand behind Vin. He moved until he could put his hands on Vin's shoulders and leaned forward, until he could whisper in Vin's ear. "You aren't trash." He slid his arms around Vin's body and pulled him closer. "You aren't trash," he repeated. "I fucked up and you had to pay for it. I'm sorry," he told him. "I wish I could make it different."
"Can't make it different," Vin whispered. "Just - just don't make it worse," he said. "Fuck!" he hissed as pain lanced through his ass. He shifted out of Chris's hold, trying to find a comfortable position.
Chris was alarmed. "You need a doctor?" he asked.
"No, I don't need a doctor," Vin said. "It's just sore. I need to get a hot shower and then sleep for about a week. Can I go now?" he asked. "Just to bed," he added. "Ain't gonna run out on my debt."
Chris nodded. "I didn't think you would, if you were thinking straight. If I'd let you go earlier, what happened tonight would have looked like a Sunday school picnic compared to what they would have done when they caught up to you. The club isn't going to let anybody off the hook for thirty grand. Hang on a minute," he said. He picked up the phone. "Come in here and bring his boots," he said into the mouthpiece.
A single tap on the door and Josiah came in, carrying Vin's socks and boots. "Here you go," he said and handed them to Vin.
"He needs a couple of days to heal up, someplace to sleep for a couple of days." Chris said, "If he stays here, he's not gonna get much sleep. He can't stay with me."
"I'd be pleased to have you," Josiah said, "if you'd like to stay."
Vin nodded, too tired and sore to care where he was staying, as long as he got there soon.
NEXT: A Hand To Hold On To