Adult OW, Main Characters: C/V

Comments: A birthday fic for BJ, who requested some Vin hurt and Chris comfort. Don't ask me what possessed me to write a winter fic in the dead of summer (must be heat stroke). I think I just wanted an excuse for Chris and Vin to do lots of cuddling and talking and uh, some other stuff. Special thanks to Laramee for the awesome picture!

"I don't like it,' Buck growled in a harsh whisper. "We can't just leave 'em here."

Nathan's reply was equally soft, but Chris was only ten feet away and it didn't take much effort to hear it. "I don't like it, either. But that storm's movin' in. And if Vin's got any chance at all, he can't be moved. What are we gonna do?"

"We can all stay," Ezra suggested.

Chris was surprised that Standish would be the one to make the offer, and apparently so were the others, judging by the astonished looks on their faces.

Josiah was the voice of reason, of course. "There's not nearly enough supplies here for seven men. And we have an obligation to protect the town. At least some of us have to go back."

All of them had to go back, Chris thought, but he'd said that already and obviously no one was listening.

"What - what are they - arguin' about?" Vin's ragged words were nearly smothered in the thick tension of the room.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it." Chris stooped next to the bed and reinforced his statement with a gentle squeeze of Vin's shoulder.

Vin frowned, but it was apparently too much effort to speak again, so he only sighed and closed his eyes.

Chris stood up and approached his men. "You're all going back. Now."

"I can't, Chris. I can't leave you here like this," Buck stated, louder now that Chris had joined their conversation.

"And I can't leave Vin," Nathan said.

Ignoring Buck for the time being, Chris focused on Nathan. "There are others who will need you in the coming weeks, Nathan. It's not fair to them. Vin would hate that; you know he would. And what can you do for him now that I can't?"

With a look of defeat, Nathan sighed, "Not a damn thing, I guess."

"It could be months, not weeks, Chris," Josiah said solemnly, as if Chris might not realize what he was signing up for.

"I know. That's exactly why you all have to go back. I can make our supplies stretch until spring, if need be."

"Chris-"

"No, Buck. I appreciate the offer, but Vin and I will fare better if it's just the two of us."

All of the men looked down or away at that. Cowards, he thought - they couldn't even look him in the eye and say it. "Well, hell," he said bitterly, "why don't you all just bury Vin now and save me the trouble?"

There was dead silence, until a feeble voice from across the room broke the stillness. "Chris? What's wrong?"

Ashamed at his outburst - and mortified that Vin might have heard his words - Chris remained rooted where he stood.

But Nathan quickly moved to the bedside. "It's alright, Vin," he said. "Don't worry. Just lay still alright?"

"I'm hurtin', Nathan," Vin moaned, the sound cutting through Chris like a knife. And he had to wonder if the others weren't right. Could he stand being locked up there alone with Vin like he was? What if he lost him? Could he lay Vin's body out in the cold? Could he go on without him?

"I know, I know, just try t' rest now. It'll be alright." Nathan's calm, gentle voice sounded absurdly loud in the confines of the old cabin.

They were lucky they'd found the place. A long pursuit of a particularly violent gang of outlaws had drawn them high up into the mountains. It had went well, though - for them if not for the now dead gunslingers. They were heading back to Four Corners when they stumbled upon the cabin, tucked miles away from civilization. It seemed like a godsend at the time; there was even enough space for all seven of them to get in out of the cold.

But Vin had cautioned that they could only spend one night there. A storm was moving in - snow, he'd said, and a lot of it. No one ever questioned Vin's ability to predict the weather or his judgment when it came to surviving in the wilderness. Besides, it was mid-November, too late in the year - and they were too high up - to doubt that the cabin might soon be cut off.

It would have been fine. They could have gotten a good night's rest, headed down the mountain and been home before the first snowflake hit the ground. Would have been . . . could have been . . .

Chris swallowed the lump in his throat and turned to watch as Nathan tended to Vin. Lines of pain were etched on Vin's face, and his fingers trembled as he clutched feebly at the straw mattress on which he lay. It was too soon to give him any more of the precious laudanum, so Nathan gently took hold of Vin's hands and repeated in a soft, soothing voice, "Easy now, easy."

Nausea swept over him like a rising stream in a rain storm, and Chris ran for the door. The rush of cool air swiftly settled his stomach, but it didn't stop the slow spread of wetness across his cheeks. Damn it, he thought, this couldn't be happening. Not now. Not like this.

The wind howled in the tall pine trees, echoing the raging grief in his heart, but he still heard the sound of the heavy door being opened and the footsteps that followed him out onto the porch. He knew instinctively that it was Buck.

"Let me stay, Chris," Buck said over his shoulder.

Shaking his head, Chris whispered his response, "No."

"We've been through it all together, Pard. We can weather this, too. You're gonna need me. And not just t' cut wood and hunt."

"I can't worry about you and the town, too, Buck. I need t' know that the rest of you are safe and taking care of things."

Buck was silent for a long moment, but then he moved to face Chris. "I know about you and Vin," he said very softly.

It shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. And he shouldn't have tried to deny it, but he did. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come on, Chris. We been ridin' together too long. I know, alright? I know. Can't say I understand it, but hell, this ain't the first time and won't be the last that you and I don't see things the same way."

Chris felt like the air had been sucked out of his chest as the emotions warred within him: disbelief that he and Vin apparently hadn't been as discreet as they'd thought, relief that he could finally tell someone how he felt, and terror that he would lose it all. "I can't," he gasped, "I can't -"

Buck gripped his shoulder. "I know. That's why I need t' stay with you."

It took a few minutes, but Chris finally pulled himself together enough to ask, "The others?"

"Nah," Buck replied with a quick shake of his head. "They don't know. And they won't know, I promise you that."

The oath was unnecessary. Chris knew that Buck would no sooner endanger his and Vin's lives than his own. And if the word got out about Vin and him, there was no doubt their lives would be in jeopardy - Vin being wanted would quickly become the least of their problems.

"Please, Chris, let me stay with you."

It was tempting. He could take care of Vin while Buck took care of everything else. But Nathan's words rang in his ears, "He's bleeding inside . . . there's nothing I can do for him." If it was true - if Vin died - no one could be with him and Vin when it happened. No one could see. He couldn't trust himself not to go completely insane. Hell, he might even kill Buck in his rage.

And if Vin survived, if Nathan was wrong - dear God, let Nathan be wrong - he'd never be able to hide his feelings. Didn't want to have to try to hide his feelings.

No, he needed to be alone with Vin, no matter which way it went. The fact that there really weren't enough supplies to hold even one man through a long winter helped him make his point once again. "I have a better chance-" he gulped and restated, "we have a better chance alone." He finally lifted his head and met Buck's eyes as he added, "That's the way I want it, Buck."

Buck always did know when it was pointless to argue with him, and now was no different. "Alright," he reluctantly agreed, "but I'll be back up here at the first break in the weather. And there's nothing you can say t' stop me."

His voice cracking, Chris replied, "I don't wanna stop you. By then, maybe Vin will be ready t' come home."

"Yeah. Maybe so," Buck said, but he couldn't look Chris in the eye when he said it.

By the time they went back inside, Chris could see that plans were already in motion. JD - silent and grim ever since the accident - was counting out bullets, while Josiah stacked wood near the fireplace. As Ezra unloaded food from their saddle bags, Nathan rifled through his sparse medical supplies.

It was Josiah who spoke first. "Should be enough timber here for several weeks, Chris, if you use it sparingly. I'll cut up another -"

"No. There's no time," Chris snapped. "You all need to get going."

To his relief, Buck agreed. "Chris is right. If we don't leave now, we won't make it down the mountain. Leave everything, Ezra. We can go without."

"No," Chris said again. "You've still got a day and a half's ride. And if you get caught-"

"We'll take only what we need to get by," Josiah cut in. "JD? Can you saddle the horses?"

Buck glared at Josiah, as if he couldn't believe Sanchez would have the nerve to make such a suggestion, but JD didn't say a word. Buck followed his friend out, presumably to help him, while Nathan cleared his throat and said, "Chris? I'm leaving the bandages - not that he'll need 'em but - and the herbs for tea - the laudanum. There ain't enough, but - well - just, keep him as quiet as you can - keep him still."

Chris nodded but said nothing, his gaze fixed on Vin, who appeared to have drifted off to sleep in the short time he'd been outside with Buck.

Nathan came up behind him and added in his ear, "I just gave him another swallow. He was - he was - I couldn't leave him like that. I reckon he'll sleep for a while now."

"Alright," Chris mumbled, or thought he did. He was having a hard time coordinating his thoughts with his mouth, it seemed.

And apparently he wasn't the only one. Chris watched as Nathan reached out and barely brushed Vin's hand. The man struggled for a moment, his throat working though no sound came out, before hanging his head and walking out without another word.

Josiah and Ezra also turned and gave their injured teammate one last look, as well; Josiah's gaze lingered, but Ezra quickly swallowed and turned away. Neither man said anything as they followed Nathan out the door.

As Chris stood on the old porch and watched his friends mount up, a dozen words stuck in his throat. But he only managed to get out three, "Watch your backs."

"You, too, Chris," Josiah said. "And tell Vin . . ."

Josiah didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't need to. Chris knew what was in their hearts by the moisture in their eyes, and he nodded, though he couldn't imagine actually having that conversation with Vin.

As the other men rode off, Buck pulled back on the reins. "I'll be back," he promised. His eyes said that Chris had damn well better be there when he came, but he left the words unsaid as he turned his horse around and followed the others.

Chris watched his friends disappear into the landscape, his stomach churning as the distance stretched between them.

Alright, he'd gotten his wish. He and Vin were alone. Pulling his coat tighter against the rising wind, he squared his shoulders and headed back inside.

+++++++

JD was glad that the path was narrow and the wind was cold. Buck wouldn't have the opportunity or the inclination to ride along side of him and bother the hell out of him.

When was the man going to catch on that there was nothing anyone could do or say? He just wanted to be left alone.

Of course, the only problem with being left alone was that he had time to think and to remember. Every word that had been said the previous night continued to spin around and around in his head.

"Wanna help me bed down the horses, JD?"

"Sure thing, Vin."

Why hadn't he said no? Why hadn't Buck picked that moment to torment him about something senseless and stupid so he'd have forgotten and let Vin take care of the horses alone?

"Did you hear that, Vin? What is -"

"It's a mountain lion! Get away from the horses, JD!"

He'd tried, hadn't he? But it all happened so fast. Chaucer bucked and Peso reared up, and soon all of the horses were panicking.

"JD! You're gonna get trampled! JD!"

He didn't get trampled, though, because Vin pushed him out of the way.

JD didn't realize what had happened at first, he had no idea that Vin had been hurt. He'd quickly rolled away from the flying hooves, then picked himself up off the ground, brushed the dirt off his jeans, and hollered at Vin . . .

"Damn it, Vin! You didn't have to push me so hard! Damn lion's already run off, I think."

It was a long time, it seemed, before he caught on that Vin wasn't getting up with him; that Vin was lying oddly and he was making a funny sound. The horses had calmed as soon as the cat took off, and JD didn't realize, didn't know.

"Vin? What's wrong?"

Vin didn't answer him and he still didn't move, either. All he did was open his mouth like he was going to yell or maybe scream, but he couldn't even do that. Nothing happened, nothing came out. Vin's face was white, but his eyes were wide open and JD didn't see any blood anywhere, so it couldn't be too bad, right? So he leaned down and caught Vin's eye.

"Let me help you up, Vin."

"N-n-no - don't - touch - me."

And that was when he knew that something was really, really wrong. It seemed like his stomach climbed up into his throat, and he couldn't think what to do except to yell at the top of his lungs.

"Chris! Chris! Nathan, come quick! Buck! Buck, where are you?"

"What the hell happened?"

"Did he get hit, JD? Where? His chest? His back? Did you see it?"

"You hurt, too, JD?"

"Vin? Vin?"

"What do you need us to do, Nathan?"

"Nothin' yet. Let me look at him. He ain't breathin' right. Can you hear me, Vin? Can you tell me where you hurt?"

"Come on, JD. I said, come on!"

Buck had pulled him away then, his arm wrapped tight around his shoulders. JD had tried to look back towards the horses, but Buck kept tugging him in the opposite direction.

"Look at me, JD! Look at me. Now tell me what happened."

"I don't know. There was a lion . . . And the horses got upset. And Vin told me t' move and I did. But he . . . he pushed me to the ground. I didn't see it, Buck. I heard it, I think. I mean, it sounded like . . . But I didn't see it. I'm not sure. God, Buck - what happened? Is Vin gonna be alright?"

"Sure he is, Kid. You know Vin. Few ornery horses won't take him down. Might slow him up some, but he'll be fine."

"But the storm - the snow. Vin said we gotta ride out tomorrow. What if he can't?"

"We'll worry about that tomorrow."

Well, it was tomorrow, wasn't it? And they were riding out - without Vin. And Chris.

Buck hadn't let him go into the cabin while Nathan was examining Vin. He could hear him, though, from where he stood on the porch with Buck; Vin was making a terrible, whimpering sound that JD had never heard from any man, let alone one of these men.

"He must be hurt bad, Buck - listen to him."

"I'm sure it does hurt, Kid. But Nathan will fix him up good as new."

JD angrily kicked his horse into a trot as he remembered Buck's words. He'd taken comfort in them because as nuts as Buck made him, he was nearly always right. It had happened so fast - and there wasn't any blood, not a drop - so it had to be so. Vin couldn't have been hurt that bad.

But Buck was wrong, damn it, Buck was wrong. He knew it the moment that Nathan led all of the men out on the porch to talk to them. It had to be bad.

"Nathan?"

"I'm sorry, Chris. I wish I could tell you he's gonna be fine, but I - I don't think so. Not this time."

"Oh come on, Nathan. He got knocked down by a horse - how bad could it be?"

"Bad, Buck. Real bad. His ribs are broke and -"

"This isn't the first time our friend has suffered that particular injury."

"I know that, Ezra, but . . . but this time . . ."

"Just tell us, Nathan. What's wrong with him?"

"It ain't that easy, Josiah."

"For God's sake, Nathan!"

"He took solid blows to his chest and his belly. He - he's bleedin' inside . . And there's nothin' I can do for him."

JD felt like the air was being squeezed out of his lungs at those words, and he wondered if that was what it was like for Vin when the hooves rained down on him. Had Vin felt every deadly blow? Of course he had, because the horses spared his head - Nathan said that was the only reason he was still alive. But for how long? And how much pain would he endure before it was over?

It could have been him - it should've been him. If he'd thought quicker, moved quicker, Vin wouldn't have had to put himself in harm's way to save him. No one said as much, but JD knew they were all thinking it. Chris - who couldn't even look at him - was surely thinking it.

He didn't want to go back in the cabin after Nathan talked to them, didn't want to face any of his friends, but Buck literally pushed him inside and forced him to lay down on his bed roll. It was an endless night. No one slept as the darkness echoed Vin's soft moans, Chris's hushed murmurs, and Nathan's calm assurances that everything would be alright.

JD kept his eyes on the trail ahead of him, doing his best to block out the vision of Vin's pale face when he'd last seen him that morning. It wasn't alright - it would never be alright again.

+++++++

Even the loud pop of cracking wood in the fire and the angry howl of the wind outside the window could not hide the soft moans of pain that reverberated in the stillness of the old cabin. Only ten hours gone since his friends had left, and already Chris thought he might go crazy from the sounds of Vin's agony. He stared longingly at the laudanum, but if Vin survived for any length of time, he'd have to make it last.

If Vin survived . . .

No, he would survive. This wasn't like his family - he was here this time, and he'd hold on with everything he had, and surely that would make the difference. That thought spurred him to do what he'd been yearning to do ever since he'd seen Vin lying broken on the ground the previous night. Slowly, carefully, he laid on the narrow bed next to his injured lover and eased his arm under Vin's neck and shoulders.

Vin's soft moan ended in a sigh as he turned his head into Chris's embrace. "Chris? They'll see," he breathed.

Chris let his head rest on Vin's and replied, "No, they're gone, remember? It's just me and you."

"Can you - can you hold me then?"

"I don't wanna hurt you," Chris answered as he tried in vain to figure out how to pull Vin tighter against him without aggravating his injuries. Awful blue-black bruising spread down the left side of Vin's chest and across his lean belly, and he was afraid to touch him. Nathan had said there was a chance if Vin stayed still and quiet, that the bleeding could stop on its own. But it would take a long time for his insides to heal, and Vin would be in almost constant pain in the meantime.

"Can't hurt no more than I already do. Please, Chris."

He'd stayed strong for going on twenty-four hours, but hearing Vin beg for his touch, for his comfort, almost did him in. Swallowing the sob that seemed to have taken up all the space in his chest, he wrapped his other arm loosely over Vin's shoulders and whispered in his ear, "Rest easy now. I've got you."

Vin shuddered, and his breath was hot against his neck when he mumbled, "I don't wanna leave you."

"Then don't." It sounded so simple when he said it like that. Like Vin had a choice in the matter, and maybe saying it made it so. Just don't, Vin, just don't leave me.

"It hurts so bad, Chris. Can't hardly stand it."

He had to stand it, he had to. And Chris reminded him why. "You know how much I need you."

"I know," Vin said, his voice breaking. It was as if that knowledge hurt more than any wound ever could. "I'm tryin'."

"I know," Chris choked. "I know you are."

And he did know, for he'd seen Vin's iron-willed determination to keep on breathing when a lesser man would have given in. There was that terrible moment when Vin was lying on the ground trying so hard to find his breath - that moment when Chris knew that Vin knew how badly he was injured and how difficult the fight would be. But he'd held Vin's eyes and told him without words that he needed him too badly, loved him too much to give him up.

It had taken four of them to carry Vin inside, and Tanner had remained stubbornly, mercilessly lucid and aware the entire time. As he had since then, except for the brief moments when the laudanum took effect and he'd drifted off into a restless slumber.

Chris offered him that relief now. "You can have more of the medicine - it's time."

But Vin weakly shook his head. "I'm afraid I won't wake up," he admitted. Though he quickly added, "I ain't afraid t' die. Just don't - don't wanna leave you," he said again.

Chris didn't want to say that he was terrified of exactly the same thing, so he pulled Vin as close to him as he could, and tried to forget where they were and why. If he tried hard enough, maybe he could pretend this was one of those rare and wonderful moments when he and Vin were free to openly share their feelings for each other.

But Vin moaned softly then as hot tears escaped from his tightly closed eyes, and Chris couldn't forget the reality of the situation for even a second. His lips ghosted against Vin's pale skin as he whispered words of encouragement. Long minutes later, Vin sighed and relaxed in his arms, and in spite of his fear, he slept.

The reprieve from pain would be brief, but Chris took comfort in the knowledge that his touch alone had given Vin that respite, and he vowed to keep stroking his lover until winter passed, or until they both died in that bed - whichever came first. For he knew now that he would die if Vin did. He just wouldn't have the energy or the will that would be required to live out the long winter months alone.

Turning his head towards the window, he noted that he could no longer see the gray sky. There was only white now; white wind, white snow . . . as if the whole world was drained of color, and wasn't that exactly how it should be?

Because a world without Vin would be colorless, lifeless . . . and pointless.

+++++++

Buck poured a capful of whiskey in his coffee, savoring the feel of the hot cup against his cold hands. With a bitter sigh, he glanced towards the window of the saloon. The snow still fell with obstinate determination - the worst storm of the century, gnarly old Rupert Gray had insisted. He supposed it could be true, though only JD believed half of what the old man said.

JD . . . Now there was another problem. The kid was blaming himself for Vin's accident, even though no one else did. It was one of those crazy dumb things that happens sometimes. Although, he couldn't deny that he was grateful to Vin for looking out for JD. It damn near would have killed him to find JD like they'd found Vin.

A twinge of guilt assailed him at that thought, so he added another capful of whiskey to dull the emotion. It wasn't that he valued JD's friendship more than Vin's . . . well hell, yes, he did. No use denying that, and no reason to feel bad about it, either. After all, the same could be said about Chris's feelings for Vin.

Sort of. Not exactly, though. Not anymore, leastwise.

He added more whiskey, pouring directly from the bottle this time.

No, he sure didn't feel the same about JD as Chris did about Vin. And he never, ever would. He couldn't even imagine . . . well, he wasn't going to think about the things Chris and Vin did together.

Except that was all he could think about . . .

He'd gotten suspicious of his two friends a few months before their ill-fated journey into the mountains. It wasn't anything glaringly obvious, rather a series of small observations that led to his discovery. Vin sold his wagon and started spending more time in his room next to Chris's. Chris always seem to head out to his cabin on the nights that Vin took patrol. When the judge asked anybody to do anything, the two men jumped at the chance - and insisted that the two of them alone could handle it.

But it was more than that. It was the way Chris fidgeted and glanced out the saloon doors every time Vin was a few minutes late. Chris never went to Purgatorio anymore, never got drunk, and never, ever looked Mary Travis in the eye. When Buck had sat down and really thought on it, he realized that Chris smiled more, laughed more, and he looked like he slept better and ate better, too.

He'd be damned if Larabee didn't act like he was in love or something. But the only person he spent any time at all with was Vin.

It wasn't right, he knew it wasn't, but it didn't stop him from hiding outside Chris's cabin early one evening. Vin was out on patrol - again - and Chris was working on a barn they'd recently helped him raise. It wasn't even conscious thought - well, not hardly - that led him there that day. He was just curious, that was all.

It wasn't a big surprise when Vin rode up - it didn't necessarily mean anything. But just in case, he'd moved higher up the hill where he could get a good look through Chris's bedroom window. It wasn't even ten minutes later that he saw Chris moving about in the small room, shedding his clothes. Chris wasn't one to retire before the sun, but sure enough, he'd stripped and laid out on the bed before dusk had even gotten a foothold on the evening.

It still didn't mean anything, Buck had told himself, but it was getting harder to believe when he saw Vin enter the small bedroom, as well. Even when Vin's shirt joined Chris' on the floor - and his body joined Chris' on the bed - he denied that anything was going to happen. Chris only had one bed, after all, and both men were probably tired after a long day.

And then Chris moved on top of Vin, and even though Buck was yards away, his view hindered by brush and trees and awkward shadows, he could see the two men's faces come together in what could only be a kiss. "Alright then," he mumbled. "They've got an itch t' scratch. Neither one of 'em get out enough." It still didn't mean anything, he told himself once again.

That was when he really should have left. He wasn't a voyeur, after all - he never got a cheap thrill watching other people have sex. But he had to understand why. So he stayed a little longer and watched as Chris tenderly moved his mouth down Vin's neck and chest, his body instinctively rocking to that age-old rhythm. And suddenly he understood: this wasn't Chris meeting some basic primal need, this was Chris making love.

It was wrong for him to intrude on this most private moment between two men he loved and respected like brothers, so he hurriedly moved back amongst the trees to his horse. All the way back to town, thoughts churned in his head and he yearned to speak to someone - anyone - about what he'd seen so he could sort it all out somehow. Briefly, he considered confiding in Josiah, but he quickly tossed that idea aside. No one could know. He'd be signing his two friends' death warrants if it got out what they did when they were alone. So he'd kept it to himself, not even telling Chris that he knew.

Until that terrible night when Vin got his chest caved in by a horse. Damn bad luck, Buck cursed in his head as he swallowed the last of the coffee. And as he picked up the bottle of liquor to refill the cup, he decided to forego the coffee this time around.

He figured he was well and truly drunk by the time Josiah came in and sat down next to him. But apparently not drunk enough to stop the man from thinking it was a good time to talk to him.

"You gotta stop this, Buck. We didn't have any choice, as you can plainly see," Josiah added, with a tip of his head towards the window.

"Always a choice, Josiah. Just not a good one."

"Chris will survive."

Buck shook his head. "No, he won't."

"He's got enough wood t' keep him from freezing. And you know Chris isn't like me and you - the man could go for a week without eating and hardly notice."

"Ain't talkin' about him freezin' or starvin'," Buck replied. He was too drunk for this conversation, his lips were likely to get away from him. "And you know it," he added.

"Vin might make it," Josiah said softly, hopefully.

"You ever seen a man hurt like that and live?"

"Vin's not any man."

"No, he sure as hell ain't," Buck said, angry now, though he wasn't sure why. "Ain't any man could make Chris Larabee do the things . . . Aw hell, forget it."

Josiah sighed and tried a different track. "JD needs you, Buck. Pull yourself together for him."

"Don't be tellin' me what the Kid needs!" he shouted. "I'm the closest thing t' family he's got."

"Then act like it," Josiah huffed as he stood and walked away.

Sanchez had a lot of nerve, talking to him about JD and family. He knew what family meant and what they did for each other. Why the hell did the man think he was so upset over Chris?

But as he contemplated pouring another glass, it occurred to him that right here, right now, there wasn't a damn thing he could do for Chris. Shoving the bottle to the other side of the table, he stood up on wobbly legs, determined to find JD and make the damn kid see reason.

Even if he himself had no idea anymore what 'reason' looked like.

+++++++

As Chris threw another log onto the fire, he heard Josiah's deep voice in his head, admonishing him for being wasteful. But it couldn't be helped; Vin was freezing, his teeth chattering and his limbs shaking all the time. Although that could have been from the blood loss, he supposed. It didn't matter. After six days, Vin was still alive, and he would do whatever it took to keep him that way, one damn day at a time.

He'd taken to marking those days on a block of wood, knowing he'd quickly lose track in the endless blur of white snow, black nights, and red-stained sheets. Though the stains were darker now, a good sign that the blood Vin's body expelled - via one end or the other - was old blood. He never thought he'd see the day when the color of Vin's vomit was the most important element in his world, and he almost chuckled bitterly at that.

He didn't know if the lack of fresh bleeding was enough to ensure that Vin would live, but he tried to believe it was so. The not knowing was the most frustrating thing about Vin's injures - he couldn't see what was happening. With a bullet or a knife wound, there was evidence that the bleeding had stopped, that the wound had closed, that no infection had set in. But he couldn't see inside Vin's chest or belly, couldn't know if the bones were knitting, the tears mending, the blood clotting.

So he took what he could get and it was enough: Vin was still breathing and most of the time, he was lucid enough to talk to him, to really be with him.

He peered over at the bed and was relieved to see that Vin was still asleep, even without having had any laudanum for almost a day now. They were down to one dose, and that was only because he had slipped the drug to Vin without his knowledge during those first few days. He couldn't take it, he couldn't bear to watch the man suffer. So he'd mixed the laudanum in water, and he'd coaxed Vin to drink it, and at least it appeared to have kept his friend quiet enough to allow him to heal.

Glancing out the window at the drifts of snow, Chris's thoughts turned to his men; he prayed they'd made it back to Four Corners in time. As he pictured the small town that had become home, Buck's words quickly came to mind . . . "I know about you and Vin." How had Buck discovered their secret? What clue, what sign did he see that the others had not? They were so very careful, he and Vin. Even the times when the aching need for the man seemed to burn a hole through him, Chris was sure he'd hid his feelings well. And Vin, well, he knew exactly what Vin was thinking pretty much all the time - which was what made it so damn hard to keep his mind out of his pants. But the others couldn't read his lover so easily, Buck included.

Still, Buck knew somehow. Had he seen them? Chris blushed at the thought. Hell, he wasn't some shy schoolgirl, but he didn't exactly cotton to the idea of Buck getting an eyeful of him and Vin holding each other, touching each other, kissing each other . . . him and Vin pressing their warm, naked bodies together . . . Vin writhing beneath him as he licked his way down . . .

What the hell was wrong with him? Vin was laying there sick as a dog and he was getting hard just thinking about the things they did together.

It had all begun innocently enough. They'd taken a hand to each other one night after two long days on the trail, joking that they needed to find themselves some women and damn quick. The next morning, they did it again. And Chris remembered thinking at the time that for all of Vin's talk about "lively" women, he never seemed to seek one out, never paid for one. Except for Charlotte, he never seemed to pay them any mind at all.

It was a week later when Vin came knocking on his door late one night. "Couldn't sleep," he said. "Thought I'd see if you want t' share a - a drink."

It was clear by Vin's eyes - not to mention the bulge in his jeans barely concealed by the bottle he held in front of him - that he had something other than a drink in mind.

Though he knew it was an incredibly bad idea, Chris had no intention of turning the man down on his offer. He'd been restless and wanting ever since Vin had first touched him.

They kissed for the first time that night; slow and hesitant at first, and then like neither one could be happy until he'd climbed inside the mouth of the other. He knew then that he loved Vin - probably had for a long time.

It wasn't a problem for him, Vin being a man and his best friend to boot. No, the problem was that he quickly developed a physical dependence on him. He took to being with Vin like some men take to drink; he wanted to be with him every night and every morning - and there were many afternoons that his thoughts took a decidedly indecent turn, too.

Chris sat back on his heels, the fire forgotten as he became lost in memories. That first moment when he saw Vin's face on the boardwalk - he'd known even then that there was something between them. That first kiss that both took his breath away, and taught to him to breathe again after three long years of grief. And there were other firsts that night when Vin came to him: it was the first time he tasted Vin's skin, heard his heartbeat, felt his warm sigh in his ear as he came.

"What are you thinkin' on so hard, Cowboy?"

Vin's weak voice pulled him to his feet. He squatted down next to the bed and lightly touched Vin's cheek with two fingers. "You. Us," he said. "And how much I love you."

So easily said now, though he'd fought it for months. It wasn't until the evening after the men had left that Chris had verbalized his feelings. Up until that point, he'd believed that Vin not only didn't need to hear 'sweet talk', as Sarah had put it, he didn't want to hear it. But as Chris held Vin close that night and sought to ease away his pain, he'd mumbled in his ear, "You know how I feel about you, don't you?"

"Yeah," Vin had sighed. "But if you want t' say it . . ."

Chris had raised his brows in surprise. "You need me t' say it?" he'd asked.

"Not really. Just ain't heard it all that often is all," Vin replied softly.

Chris realized then what a fool he'd been. Vin's life was nothing like his, it was possible that no one had told Vin he was loved since his beloved mother, who had died so long ago.

So he told him that night and every night since - and every morning and a hundred times in between. "I love you," was the first thing Vin heard when he opened his eyes and the last thing he heard when he closed them.

"You love me enough t' - t' climb up here - and - keep - keep me warm?" Vin said now, his teeth chattering.

"I reckon I could be persuaded," Chris replied with a tight smile as he complied with Vin's request. They'd learned how to comfortably position themselves, with Vin lying on his right side and Chris wrapping around him like a glove.

"You're gettin' b-bony, Larabee. You eatin' at all?"

"Yeah. And look who's talkin' about bein' bony."

"You should go out at daybreak and - get - get a deer."

"Uh-huh." He wasn't about to leave Vin alone, but he wasn't going to tell him that, knowing he'd get an argument. "Got enough to eat for now. Don't worry." It wasn't true. He'd made do with the what little rations the boys had left behind, but they hadn't come prepared to spend more than few days in the mountains.

"I promise not t' die while you're gone," Vin declared, his voice hoarse.

Chris pulled Vin tighter against him and nuzzled his neck. "I can't leave you yet. It's too soon. I'll be alright."

Vin turned his face enough to meet Chris's eyes. "Not sure I'll be alright, Chris - I'm so cold all the time."

Vin was getting by on even less than he was; mostly broth made from beef jerky steeped in boiling water. He needed fresh red meat to build up his blood and his strength, and that was reason enough for Chris to reconsider the suggestion that he go hunting. But just the thought of leaving Vin for even a few minutes was unimaginable.

"In a few days I'll go," Chris reluctantly agreed. "We can get by until then."

"No. Tomorrow. Sky'll be clear tomorrow. Another front comin' in after that."

He didn't ask how Vin knew that, focusing instead on how he'd make himself get up in the morning and leave this man. It seemed impossible, and he fell asleep holding Vin tighter than ever.

But he did get up in the morning, and he did leave. He acted like he was just heading next door for a drink; kissing Vin and tossing out, "I'll see you in a bit", like it was nothing - like he wasn't leaving his very life behind, lying in a cold bed alone. Vin was so weak, he could hardly hold up his head if he got sick. And what if the fire went out? But he pushed those thoughts aside and ignored the stinging in his eyes as he stomped through the heavy snow to the lean-to where's Vin ornery horse awaited him.

Peso was fairing pretty well, considering the circumstances, which was why he was chosen to stay behind. Damn mule was too stubborn to let icy wind and low rations do him in. But Chris had a hard time climbing on his back, knowing as he did that Peso was the reason Vin was in the shape he was in. JD hadn't seen it, and Vin hadn't said, but he knew the obstinate creature was touchy as hell, and he was sure the hoof-shaped bruises on Vin's chest matched his own horse.

It didn't matter now, he thought, as he turned his back on the small cabin and headed out into the wilderness. Vin was right about the weather; the sky was clear for a change, and the wind virtually non-existent, so he'd be able to follow his own tracks back.

After a few hours, he realized that he truly was hungry for the first time in a week. That fact - along with the vision of Vin's gaunt face - gave him enough motivation to continue when his heart tugged at him to turn back. And as much as he hated to admit it, the clear, cold air felt good on his skin. It was easy to forget out there on the rugged slopes, the snow glistening in easy silence, what awaited him on his return. The endless hours of watching, waiting, and worrying . . .

It was late afternoon by the time he returned, but his hunt had been successful. The doe was small, and he almost felt guilty taking the young life, but at least he wouldn't have to go out again for several weeks or maybe longer.

Or maybe never, he thought with a vicious chill when he entered the old cabin. The fire was out, or as good as, and Vin was lying ominously still beneath the pile of blankets, his eyes closed. Rushing to his side, Chris took Vin's cold face between his hands and choked, "Vin? Vin, I'm back."

There was no response; he couldn't hear Vin breathing, couldn't detect any motion at all in his lover's cold body. The pain that sliced through his head and chest dropped him to his knees. Vin had promised he wouldn't die, and he reminded him of that as he gripped his shoulders and shouted, "Vin! Vin, wake up! You promised!"

There was still no sign that Vin had heard, that he had any life in him at all. Except there, beneath his fingers, a slow, steady pulse on Vin's neck. Chris tried to maneuver his shaking limbs to action - build a fire, he told himself, do it now. It seemed to take everything he had, every ounce of energy he could muster, to move away from the bedside. Had he imagined the pulse? Vin was so still, so cold . . .

He should never have left him; he knew Vin couldn't take care of himself if he got sick, couldn't get up to add another log to the fire, could hardly raise a glass to his lips if he got thirsty. But he'd gone anyway. The dead doe lay with accusing eyes at the door. Too soon, she seemed to say; but he'd put a bullet in the young animal's hide because he was hungry - and he'd left Vin behind to do it.

Too soon but not too late, he assured himself as he hastily stoked the fire to life. He put a kettle on to boil, adding the herbs Nathan had left for him to make tea. When it was good and hot, he moved back to Vin, pulled him into his arms, and dribbled the warm liquid in his mouth. "Come on, come on, Vin," he pleaded. "You know I can't do this without you."

It might have been the heat of the warm cup against his lips or the hot liquid on his tongue, or maybe it was the warmth of Chris's own body that roused him, but after several long minutes, Vin moaned softly and swallowed.

And as he pulled Vin tighter to his chest, the sob Chris had held in for what seemed like an eternity finally broke loose.

+++++++

"Please don't do this, Buck. It's too soon."

"Too soon? I think all that time holed up in that church has made you plumb loco, Josiah."

"It's only December."

"Now I know I ain't as smart as the rest of you boys, but my ma did teach me how to read a calendar."

Josiah shook his head and threw up his hands. "Fine. Kill yourself trying to get up that mountain. But you're not taking JD with you."

"No, I'm not," Buck agreed solemnly, though he'd wanted to - badly. He figured the best way to help JD put the incident behind him would be to do something to help Chris. But on the other hand, he didn't want to ride up there and have the first thing JD see be Vin's body, wrapped up like a mummy, lying in the cold snow. "Takin' Ezra," he informed Sanchez.

"Ezra? He agreed to this madness?"

"Yep. Actually, he offered."

Josiah must have known that there was little to be gained in arguing with him, because he sighed resignedly and said, "Alright. I'll help you pack up." But he gripped Buck's shoulder and looked him steadily in the eye as he added, "Just promise me you'll come back if it gets rough out there."

Touched by his concern, but no less determined, Buck replied lightly, "What are you worried about? I got Ezra t' keep me sensible."

Josiah cringed. "That's supposed to make me feel better?"

It had been four weeks since they'd rode away from Chris and Vin. Most of the snow had finally melted after a week of abnormally warm temperatures. Contrary to Josiah's opinion, Buck wasn't a fool, and he knew that the warm weather wasn't likely to last. He also knew he could find conditions completely different in the mountains. But he had to try. And with a little luck, he'd have Chris home by Christmas.

He'd already turned to saddle his horse when he heard Nathan's voice behind him. "It's too soon for Vin to ride. I mean, if - well -"

Buck stopped what he was doing; it hadn't even occurred to him that Vin's condition might play into matters. In his mind, Vin had been dead for weeks, and though he grieved for that loss, it was Chris's welfare that was driving him now. He turned to Nathan. "You think there's a chance? Because up there in that cabin, you pretty much told us Vin was as good as dead. If Vin is alive, that changes everything."

Hands on his hips, Nathan spat angrily, "I told you there was nothin' I could do for him. And don't sound so damn disappointed that he just might not be dead."

The shock of Nathan's words hit him like a fist to his gut. Would he be disappointed if Vin was alive? Did a part of him want Chris back? The Chris he used to know and understand? The Chris that found the soft curves of a woman far more preferable to the hard planes of a man?

No, he quickly assured himself. He might not understand this thing - no, not this thing, this love - that had sprung up between Chris and Vin, but he'd never wish Vin harm. And he'd sure as hell never wish more grief for Chris.

Lowering his head, he replied in a slow, deceivingly calm voice to Nathan's accusation. "There's nothin' in this world I'd rather see than Vin still breathin' when we get to that cabin, Nathan. And don't you ever think otherwise. I just hadn't thought about what we'll do is all. Just haven't got that far."

"Well, I have," Ezra cut in.

Buck looked up sharply; he hadn't been aware that Ezra had entered the livery.

"We'll take as much as that pack mule can carry," Ezra continued. "But how long do you advise we wait before attempting to escort our friends home?"

Nathan shook his head. "Hard t' say how long it would take for him t' heal up - ain't like it's a wound you can see. Just the thought of puttin' Vin on a horse - I don't like it. I should go along, I really should."

"How many folks did you see in your clinic this week, Nathan?" Josiah asked softly.

Buck didn't know that answer, but from what he'd seen, it was a lot. Two families with flu, one kid with a broken arm, a new baby . . . and those were just the situations he was aware of. It just wasn't possible for Nathan to leave right then - and by the sober look on the healer's face, he knew it, too.

"Chris will know if Vin's ready," Buck said confidently.

The uncomfortable silence that greeted his statement made him pause. Did the others suspect the true relationship between the two men? Or were they all thinking about Vin's sorry state when they'd left him behind?

Ezra finally spoke up. "Speculation is rarely beneficial, Gentlemen. Buck, I suggest we set out while the weather is cooperating and deal with the situation that awaits us if and when we arrive."

With that said, farewells were quickly exchanged and the two men took off. They'd only been traveling a few hours when Buck determined that conditions were, in fact, much different at the higher altitudes. After only a few hours, the wind had picked up considerably, and the horses were already having a harder time making their way through drifts of snow on the slippery slopes. Stealing a glance at his riding partner, he couldn't help wondering what motivated Ezra to leave the comfort of the saloon to brave the winter chill for a journey that was a long shot, at best.

"Why did you offer to do this, Ezra?"

Ezra took several long moments to answer him, and when he did, his eyes were downcast, as if he wasn't sure how much he should admit to. "I just think whoever finds our missing partners should have a clear understanding of - uh - how things are between them."

Buck stifled a gasp and tried to remain casual when he stated, "Not sure what you're gettin' at."

"Yes, you are. But if it's really necessary, I'll elaborate. I believe we have one of two possible scenarios awaiting us: we either find our friends together in death, or we find them together in bed."

Apparently Buck's uncharacteristic speechlessness prompted Ezra to clarify further. "If Vin has died, I believe Chris will have taken his own life in a way that I don't think our more tenderhearted colleagues - Nathan and JD - need to witness. And if Vin is still alive, which is my fervent prayer," Ezra added, his eyes finally meeting Buck's, "then I would not be surprised to find our friends in a rather compromising position."

"Chris wouldn't do somethin' stupid like that!" Buck argued, ignoring for the moment that Ezra obviously knew far more than he should.

"Not in his right mind, he wouldn't, you are correct. But after four weeks of little food and long nights, perched on the very edge of wrenching loss and heartache, I suspect Chris may be a little less . . . cautious."

"You're wrong," Buck continued to argue - still avoiding the heart of the matter which was how the hell did Ezra know? "First of all, if Vin is alive, he ain't in any condition to be compromisin' nothin'. And secondly, if Chris hears us comin', he'd be more likely to shoot us than get caught lyin' naked with Vin."

Ezra pulled back on the reins sharply and looked at Buck with wide eyes. "So it is true? My God. I'd suspected but . . ."

He'd been bamboozled - hoodwinked - tricked by the best in the business. Worse than that, he'd given away Chris and Vin's secret. Buck shook his head and cursed under his breath. How was he going to keep Ezra quiet?

But before he could think of an adequate response, Ezra quickly assured him. "Relax, Buck. I have no intention of betraying our comrades, I assure you."

Buck took a deep breath and felt his stomach fall back into place. Ezra might be a cheater, but he wasn't a liar - not to his friends, at any rate.

"May I ask, however, how you know for certain?" Ezra asked then.

"I saw 'em," Buck replied. He was both ashamed and relieved at his admission. Finally, he could speak openly about what had been on his mind for months. "At Chris's cabin. They were - uh - well, there wasn't no mistake about what they were doin'."

"I see. My, my, that must have been quite . . . interesting."

"It wasn't like that!" Buck responded hotly. "I wasn't watchin' for sport, Ezra. I just wanted t' know, that's all."

"Know what?"

"What? Well, why of course! Hell, it ain't exactly expected, is it?"

"Actually, it rather is," Ezra returned.

Buck frowned. He hadn't seen that coming, and he wasn't quite certain how to reply. They'd all known, of course, that the two men were close, but surely no one else suspected exactly how close. Or did they?

"Do you think the others -"

"Absolutely not. They are ignorant." Ezra added under his breath, "As usual."

"Well, good. Chris don't need any more trouble. Which is why I wanted t' understand," Buck went on. It seemed absurdly important that he justify himself, although why he gave a damn about Ezra's opinion, he didn't know.

"And do you understand now?"

"Yeah. They love each other. As crazy at it sounds, it's the truth."

Ezra looked at him for a long moment before kicking his horse into a trot and stating, "All the more reason then for us to bring them both home safely."

Buck nodded, grateful for Ezra's understanding, and even more grateful that Ezra's determination matched his own.

But it soon became apparent that determination might not be enough. With increasing frequency, deep drifts of snow blocked their path, causing their horses to stumble. When they were forced off the trail for nearly an hour - and had difficulty finding their way back to it - they were forced to concede defeat. They'd be no good to Chris and Vin if they themselves were lost in the wilderness. So with heavy hearts, they headed back down the mountain, retracing their steps in silence.

+++++++

"You should head down the mountain . . . Come back for me in the spring."

Chuckling, Chris replied, "Damn, Vin, that's the first joke you've made in weeks. It ain't a good one, but it's a start." He knew Vin wasn't really trying to be funny, but it was so damn ridiculous that it was, indeed, funny.

Vin scowled. "Hear me out, Cowboy."

"I'm listenin'," Chris said as he stirred the fire back to life. They were running low on timber, and what they had was wet, but he tried to hide his worry from Vin as he turned to face him.

"You won't do me no good if you starve t' death up here," Vin said seriously.

"I don't plan to starve. Hell, I'll eat that damn mule that knocked you flat before that happens."

"Ain't his fault."

Chris softened at Vin's stricken look. "I know."

It had taken Chris three weeks to go out hunting again after the first time when he'd returned to the cabin and found Vin more dead than alive. He might not have gone out again ever if Vin hadn't gained a spot of color after getting a bit of meat in his belly. But game was scarce, and his other expeditions hadn't been quite as successful.

Chris played down his hunger to Vin, but he thought he might kill for a decent potato, and he'd even had dreams about Inez' biscuits. Worst of all, the coffee was long gone - a fact that had actually brought tears to Vin's eyes, once Chris convinced him that he really didn't have a stash hidden away somewhere for when they got desperate. Hell, they were long past desperate.

And apparently Vin knew it, too, because he tried again. "You should go on. I'll wait for you here."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll just prop you up, leave you a canteen and bit of jerky and move on."

Vin rolled his eyes, but said nothing when Chris moved away from the fire to stand over him. "You know there's no way in hell I'm leaving you - ever. Right?"

"I know," Vin sighed. "Kinda hate that."

"Do you really?"

Now Vin smiled, and if he'd had enough blood in him, Chris was sure he'd have blushed, too. "No," he admitted, "kinda like it."

"Me, too," Chris said, leaning in to kiss Vin's lips.

He started to pull away, but Vin stayed him with his hand. "Don't know why things are how they are between us, but I never want 'em t' change."

Kissing him again, Chris murmured, "Neither do I."

"Stupid, ain't it? Finally got what we wanted - completely alone for weeks on end - and we can't even enjoy it."

"Who says we can't?" Chris argued. He gingerly shifted Vin a bit to make room, and sat down on the bed beside him. Before he could stop himself, he was kissing Vin like he used to, like the whole world started and ended in Vin's mouth. But after several minutes of building passion, he pulled back with a groan. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"Hurt me more if you stop," Vin said, but he was already breathless.

Chris had thought - or hoped anyway - that once the worst was over, Vin would recover quickly. But between the cold, damp air and the lack of decent food, Tanner was still weak as a kitten after nearly six weeks of forced confinement. To add insult to injury, Vin had developed a nagging cough that had him gritting his teeth and holding his ribs every time a spell came on. The fact that Chris could count on two hands the times his normally restless partner had asked for help to get up out of the bed and sit by the fire was testament to how bad the man still felt.

"I almost lost you. I'm not taking any chances, no matter how good it feels."

Vin narrowed his eyes. "I'm worried about you, Larabee. Where you been gettin' your fill?"

"My fill? Of what?"

"You know what. You ain't a man that can go without for very long. Don't like the thought of you gettin' it somewhere else, though I guess I can't blame y' - considering I ain't good for much."

Raising his eyebrows, he stared at Vin in amusement. "Uh, Vin? You do remember where we are, right? Where exactly do you think I'm gonna go?"

Vin had a gleam in his eye, but Chris got the impression that there was a kernel of truth to his statement - that he was looking for something more. A promise, maybe.

"You're good enough for me, Tanner - far more than I ever thought I'd have again and far better than I deserve." He leaned forward and lightly kissed Vin again. "And I'm not going anywhere else to get my fill, you got that? Not now, not ever."

"Me, neither," Vin rasped, his voice low.

"You know," Chris teased, "I'm not the only one who can't seem t' get my fill. You sought me out first - and there's been a whole lot of nights since that first one when you came knockin'."

Vin licked his lips and lowered his eyes. "Just makin' up for lost time, I reckon."

"Lost time, huh?"

"I reckon. It's just that - well, ain't never had - ain't never wanted - ain't never been wanted by anyone like you."

Chris wasn't sure how to respond to the stammered declaration. He'd guessed that he was unique in Vin's life - maybe even the only person he'd ever loved. But hearing it said just made him sad. Vin was so deserving of so much better.

"Don't feel sorry for me." Vin's sharp reproof cut into his thoughts. "I've had a good life. Done a lot, seen a lot. Met some good folks along the way."

"I know," Chris quickly replied. But he lowered his eyes so Vin wouldn't see what he was thinking. If he was the best Vin could do, than Vin's lot was a sorry one, for sure.

"And if I don't make it home," Vin went on, "the only regret I'll have is leavin' you behind. You're all that matters now, Larabee."

His first thought was to argue with him; to tell Vin he was foolish for making him his world and to remind him that he was going home, damn it. But any thoughts of talking at all quickly left his mind when he was swallowed up by the emotion in Vin's eyes.

"Let me love you," Chris whispered. "I need to love you." For a brief moment, the reality of their situation threatened to fill him with despair. They were low on fuel and food, and there seemed to be no end in sight to the frigid weather. This could be the last time . . .

But he let the negative thoughts drift away into the quiet stillness of the winter night as he nibbled hungrily on Vin's ear. He would start here, he thought, and then he would taste and touch and memorize every part of Vin he could get to without moving him too much, without hurting him.

Vin sighed and moaned, but not from pain this time, and Chris continued his gentle exploration with renewed purpose. This wouldn't be like most times, when he and Vin could hardly get deep enough fast enough to satisfy their insatiable hunger for each other. No, this would be something different. He wasn't even sure Vin could - or should - respond with him. But it didn't matter. There was so much pleasure to be gained from the simple acts of touching and tasting, of knowing and pleasing and sharing.

There was nothing in this world finer than the being skin-to-skin with Vin; joined from mouth to groin or sometimes back to chest, their long limbs coiled around each other. But it couldn't be like that now. It was too cold, Vin too fragile to be completely unclothed, though Chris slowly and gently unfastened the buttons of his shirt as he made his way down the cherished body. Vin's ribs were too sharp and prominent, but Chris kissed each one tenderly, rambling incoherent words of love like a love-struck teenager or a silly hero in one of Buck's romance novels. He couldn't imagine how he'd been reduced to this, and he might have laughed outright at himself if he hadn't been mesmerized by the sound of Vin's breathy sighs and whispered pleas.

As he worked his way lower, he recognized the signs of Vin's increasing need, though weaker by far than usual. Vin's grip tightened in his hair and he groaned, and Chris released the tight jeans with a grin - he'd always said Vin would have to be dead not to get it up. But when his still recovering lover bucked beneath his touch, he lightly put a hand to his chest and said, "No, Vin - don't move. Let me do the work this time." Vin complied, though it had to be pure torture for him to stay down; the man was the most energetic lover Chris had ever known.

He figured once he put his mouth on Vin it wouldn't take long, and he knew by the sudden hitch in Vin's breath that he was right. It scared for him a minute when the hitch turned into a whimper that might have been pain, but they were too far gone to turn back now. He couldn't help thinking that healthy and whole, Vin could hold on for hours. The memory of a time when they'd sucked each other off under a waterfall came to the forefront of his mind. It was intense, incredible, the pure wonder of it sparking a round of loving that left them both saddle sore for days. It left Chris with something else, too - guilt because it hadn't ever been that way with anyone before. Even Sarah.

Not this time, though. He'd hardly registered the feel of Vin on the roof of his mouth, the taste of him on his tongue, when Vin shuddered; a weak imitation of his usual reaction, but good enough judging by the contented sigh that left his lips.

Chris inwardly kicked himself for his disappointment, but that didn't last long, either. Lifting his head, he noted how the golden light of the fire caught and held Vin's chiseled features. Vin's eyes were closed and his lips were curved gently upward, as if nothing could ever be better than it was at that very moment. Chris thought things could be considerably better, but surely nothing could be more beautiful than this man at this moment. His heart filled, and without conscious thought or any action at all, his own sudden release shook him, and he collapsed to Vin's chest with a deep groan.

Moments later, he lay his head next to Vin's and bid him goodnight with a gentle kiss to his temple.

But Vin wasn't quite out yet. "You get your fill, Cowboy?" he murmured sleepily.

"Yeah," Chris replied as he wrapped his arm around Vin and pulled him tighter against him.

But it wasn't true; he'd never get enough, he'd never get his fill.

+++++++

"You did all you could, Buck. Quit blamin' yourself."

"Well now, you're a fine one to talk, JD."

"It ain't the same thing. Vin got hurt because I wasn't paying attention. You couldn't have gotten up that mountain no matter how hard you tried."

"You don't get it. I never should have left them in the first place."

"Chris said -"

"T' hell with what Chris said! He needed my help. I knew it and I walked away anyway. Just like - just like last time."

JD frowned as he pondered those words, but suddenly he understood: this wasn't just about Vin, it was about Sarah and Adam, too. Leaning forward, he met Buck's eye and said slowly, "He pushed you away. Just like last time. He didn't give you a choice."

Shaking his head, Buck asked, "But why? I don't understand it. We've been friends a long time. Why won't he let me help him?"

"I don't know. I guess it's his way. He's not - he's not like us. He needs t' do things on his own. Figure stuff out on his own."

Buck looked at him thoughtfully. "When did you get so smart?"

Blushing, JD replied, "Always been smart. You're just too full of yourself t' notice most the time."

As Buck chuckled, JD gathered the courage to ask what had been on his mind for months. "Buck? Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything, JD, you know that."

"Yeah well, this is about Chris. And Vin."

He didn't miss Buck's quick intake of air, like he was bracing himself for whatever was coming. But Buck didn't tell him to shut up, so he kept on. "Is this like the last time? If Chris loses Vin, will it be like when he lost Sarah?"

Lowering his eyes, Buck replied in a hushed whisper, "Be careful what you say, JD. Some folks might not understand what you mean by that."

JD leaned in. "But you understand, don't you?"

Buck bit his lip. "You might know somethin'. You might even understand it. But it can't ever go no further than right here, you hear me, JD? What's between Chris and Vin ain't nobody's business."

Embarrassed and a little hurt by Buck's chastisement, JD replied defensively, "I was just askin' a question."

"And did you get your answer?"

"Yeah. I did. So when are we trying again?"

"You think you can handle it? You ready to face what we might find up on that mountain?"

JD swallowed. "No. I'll never be ready to face one of us dyin'. But I wanna be there when you bring Chris home. And I guess I'm still hopin' Vin will be there, too."

"Me, too, Kid."

"And Buck? What we were talkin' about earlier? If it is that way with Chris and Vin, I don't care. I just want 'em back."

He might have misjudged the look on Buck's face, but he didn't think so. His older friend was looking at him like he'd just saved the entire town by himself, like he was so proud of him he could hardly keep it in. That didn't make a lot of sense, but then 'sense' looked a whole lot different than it had even a few months ago.

"We pack up tonight, we could be gone at first light," Buck said, his eyes lighting up for the first time in weeks.

And for the first time since a mountain lion growled in the darkness, JD had hope. Maybe it would be alright, after all.

+++++++

"Wish I could see the sky."

"Nothin' to see. Trust me. Only comes in two shades anymore: gray and white."

"That ain't true."

"No, Vin, I'm telling you - gray and white, or a mixture of the two sometimes, but that's it. You're not missing anything."

"You just don't know how t' look," Vin huffed.

Amused now, Chris raised his brow. "That right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, the way I see it, you'd have to slap some paint on that winter sky to see something other than-"

"Gray and white, I get it. Someday I'll show you how, Chris. Don't worry on it."

"You'll show me how to paint the sky?"

"Somethin' like that," Vin grinned. But his smile faltered when he continued. "We need t' get out of here. You look like a stiff wind could blow you away."

Chris thought about arguing, but he just didn't have the energy. "I know," he said softly.

They were now seven weeks into the long winter, and Chris was certain they wouldn't make it seven more. He felt fairly confident that Vin's internal injuries had stabilized, but his injured lover just couldn't regain any strength under the current conditions. And he himself was weakening with every passing day.

"Let's go then," Vin pleaded. His eyes were full and his lips trembled, though Chris wasn't sure if it was from desperation or cold. Vin still shivered most of the time, and he couldn't lose the cough. Dragging him out in the winter chill would likely kill him.

"No. We're not that desperate yet," Chris replied.

Vin gripped his arm. "We won't be able t' get out if we wait any longer - neither one of us will have the strength."

That was true. But Chris didn't want to give up even a single day with Vin. And he said so. "We leave now, you'll likely be dead in a day or two. We stay and at least we'll have a few more weeks - maybe longer."

Hooking his arm around Chris's neck, Vin pulled him close and tenderly kissed him. "I'm gonna do everything I can t' stay with you, Larabee," he said softly. "But I'd rather go out fightin' than lay here dyin' piece by piece. It's the only chance we got."

His breath caught in his throat as he returned Vin's kiss. "Alright," Chris finally sighed, giving in. "Alright."

If it was just him, there'd be no thought about it. He'd fight his way down the mountain, just as Vin said. And looking at Vin then, fiery determination lighting up the blue eyes, he had to concede that he could expect nothing less from his partner. Wasn't that partly what drew him to Vin in the first place?

The decision made, it took them less than thirty minutes to gather their meager belongings and leave the secluded cabin behind. Chris had left Peso un-tethered for weeks so the animal could scrounge for food, but the ornery horse was standing there waiting for them, as if even he knew that the time for action had come.

The drab sky provided proof of Chris's assertion that the view wasn't worth the effort of lifting one's eyes to see it, but at least it wasn't snowing.

Leave it to Vin to be contrary, however. "Look at that," he said, his head tilting skyward. "Sure is good t' see somethin' other than that old brown wood. Ain't it a pretty sight?"

Raising a dubious eyebrow, Chris moved on to the work at hand. "Let's get you up on your mule, Pard."

Once mounted, Vin reached out and scratched Peso's neck fondly. "Thanks for takin' care of him, Chris."

Swinging up behind him, Chris muttered, "Took care of himself."

"Yeah? Well, at least you didn't eat him. There were a couple of times when you gave me stuff that - well, I wasn't too sure what I was eatin'. Got a bit nervous."

Chris laughed as he wrapped his arms around Vin's waist and nudged Peso's ribs.

As they left the little cabin behind, Chris couldn't help feeling bittersweet. For seven weeks, he and Vin had at least been free to touch each other, to hold each other, to love each other whenever and however they chose. If they made it back to town, they would have to go back to stealing glances, stealing touches, stealing time to be together.

"Gonna miss bein' with you," Vin rasped, apparently sharing Chris's thoughts.

"Yeah." Suddenly overcome with emotion, the one word was all Chris could manage.

"Wish it could be different."

The wistful tone in Vin's voice was so unlike him; the man might have a romantic side to him, but he was generally practical and deliberate almost to a fault.

"Me, too," Chris replied. And as Vin settled back against him, he began to think of ways it could be different. Surely if he and Vin could survive for weeks on the carcasses of dead animals, if they could fight their way down a mountain through snow drifts and bitter cold, surely they could find a way to be together.

But as the icy wind whipped beneath their scarves and hats, and as Vin began to sag in his arms, he realized those were big 'ifs'. He was already weak and tired and cold, and his head just wasn't as clear as it needed to be. But he straightened his back and tightened his grip and reminded himself of Vin's words: they'd go out fighting.

And they'd go out together.

+++++++

Buck wasn't sure how or why they were able to plow through the drifts this time around. It could have been that the snow was more packed, or there just might have been less of it. After a rough week at the end of December, the weather had calmed somewhat. It was still cold, but relatively dry. The gray sky didn't ease his worries, though. Things could likely change at any moment, and something told him they had no moments to spare.

He couldn't put words to his sense of urgency, but fortunately, he didn't need to because JD felt it, too. The Kid was taking the lead, in fact, pushing his mare along the trail like it was a dry summer's day in August instead of wet, wintry January.

They were halfway up the mountain when they spotted a horse and rider in the distance, and Buck's first thought was God bless Peso, anyway. Damn stubborn mule caused more trouble than he was worth most of the time, but he always came through in the end. This time was no different - the horse was guiding himself along the snow covered trail like he'd done it every day of his life.

His second thought, however, was that Peso had to guide himself because Chris wasn't able to do it. His old friend appeared to be slumped over the horse's neck, a black smudge against the gray sky and white mountain.

JD pulled up short ahead of him and turned back to face him. "Do you see Vin?" he asked, his voice low and strained.

Poor kid really believed Vin would survive, Buck thought sadly as he shook his head in response to JD's question. This was one time when he'd prayed he'd be wrong, but he knew for certain that Chris would never have left Vin alone in that cabin if he were still alive.

Tears filled the younger man's eyes, but he turned back around and forged on ahead, and for the second time in two days, Buck's heart swelled with pride. His young friend didn't seem all that young anymore. In fact, with his easy acceptance of Chris and Vin's relationship, JD had proven he was wiser than most men that were twice his age. Still, Buck knew that JD would carry Vin's death in his heart for a long time, maybe forever.

It seemed to take hours to reach the lone black horse, and Buck felt his stomach clench when he noted that even with their approach, Chris had not lifted his head, had not moved at all.

"Look, Buck!" JD suddenly exclaimed. "Look! Vin's with him!"

Buck figured the kid's eyes were playing tricks on him, but then he saw them too - a pair of legs on each side of the saddle. A few steps closer, and he could see that Chris had completely enveloped his smaller friend, the black duster covering both men. Whether either man was alive was impossible to determine.

"Damn," he muttered, both in fear and disbelief. Vin had to have been alive when they started out, at least. But neither of his friends appeared to be moving at the moment.

Although it seemed JD was too excited to notice. He jumped off his mount and rushed towards Peso, talking a mile a minute. "Sure am glad t' see you two!" he gushed. "Me and Buck been riding hard since early this morning. Didn't have no trouble, though. Bet you're cold, huh? Don't worry - Nathan's got us loaded down with supplies."

"Hold on now, JD," Buck ordered. "Let me talk t' Chris first." If Chris was dead, he needed to be the one to find out. And if he wasn't, something told him that his old friend just might need a calm, steady hand and a familiar voice to anchor him to the here and now. It was anyone's guess, after all, how long they'd been wondering around in the cold. "We got y', Chris," he said softly as he approached.

Buck thought he'd never seen a more precious sight than those green eyes peering back at him. Chris still didn't move; he remained bent over Vin like he didn't have the strength to even lift his head.

"Come on now, old son," Buck said gently. "Let's get you down from here. Get you warmed up and fed."

But Chris pulled against him when he reached up and took his arm. "No!" he yelled. "Vin's cold."

"I know, I know. We'll take care of him, too, just as soon as we get you down."

He could see the moment Chris realized where he was and who he was talking to.

"Buck?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"We home? Did we make it?"

"Not quite. But we'll get you the rest of the way, don't worry. Come on now, let me help you-"

"No. Vin can't take another night out here. We have t' keep moving."

Buck slanted his eyes towards Vin's still form. He wasn't sure the man was still with them, but Chris was clearly on edge, and he had a feeling he'd never get his old friend off that mountain if he found out that Vin was already gone. It would be dark in a few hours though, and he reminded Chris of that. "Not much daylight left. Don't need you tumblin' down a mountain now you've made it this far."

"Full moon. My cabin's closer. We gotta keep going."

Buck peered up at the gray clouds doubtfully. "I don't know, Chris - that sky don't look like it's of a mind to cooperate right now."

Chris closed his eyes for a moment and mumbled, "You just don't know how to look." And then, in spite of his obvious exhaustion, he pulled himself up and kneed Peso in the ribs.

JD came up next to him and asked, "Buck? Is Vin alright? What was Chris talkin' about? We gonna keep going?"

"Yeah, we're moving. You go on up ahead of him, JD. I'm gonna ride behind and make sure he don't fall on his face." He didn't answer JD's other questions because he didn't know.

He didn't think it was wise to continue on through the night, but as usual, Chris made up his own mind. Made him half mad, but as Buck mounted up and trailed along behind his friend, he had to shake his head and smile. Stubborn cuss, Larabee was, which was probably why he'd survived as long as he had. And most likely, he had just ordered Vin not to die, and Vin had gone along with him like they all did.

They rode on without incident, and Buck decided that Chris must be made out of iron to hold onto Vin like that when he had to be exhausted and starving. Or maybe it was just plain love that gave Chris the strength he needed to go on. Now that was something to ponder on. Buck had always imagined himself to be the expert on loving, but he couldn't rightly say that he'd ever cared enough for anyone to hold out and hold on like Chris had obviously done for the last seven weeks. It seemed that love came in all kinds of shapes and configurations, he concluded, as the image of his two friends locked together on Chris's bed came to mind.

Those thoughts kept Buck occupied until the sky darkened, though Chris was right about the full moon. The soft white light did little to ease his mind as they made their way down the slippery slopes, but fortunately, it wasn't long before they came to Larabee's weathered old cabin. It took Buck several minutes to convince Chris that they were really there and he could finally let go of Vin. But once it sunk in, his old friend collapsed in his arms before JD hardly had the cabin door open.

Once they had Chris settled on the couch, Buck turned to JD. "Go on and make a fire," he instructed the younger man.

"I'm gettin' Vin first," JD argued, one foot already out the door.

"No. I'll get him. You get some heat in here before we freeze to death."

JD looked at him with a mixture of frustration and uncertainty, and Buck had to acknowledge how hard it must have been for the younger man to make that long ride down the mountain without really knowing if Vin was alive or dead.

But he was determined to spare JD as much as he could for as long as he could. "I'll get him," he repeated.

Tanner was still slumped over the neck of his horse when he hurried back outside. Looked like he was frozen solid in that position, and Buck prepared himself as best as he could for that very possibility. But as he got closer, he saw that Vin's eyes were open and that a small puff of white vapor floated from his parted lips.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Buck whispered, "You sure are a sight for sore eyes, Vin Tanner."

To his astonishment, Vin half smiled and mumbled, "More like - I make - yer eyes hurt, Bucklin."

There was some truth in that. Vin's color was plum awful and his face was almost skeletal, but he still had enough spit and vinegar for sarcasm, so he just might be alright.

"Buck?" JD's fear-filled voice floated from behind him.

"Help me get him inside, JD. Then you go on to town and fetch Nathan. Tell him we got two men need tendin' to."

JD's eyes were wide as he bit his lip. "So you think -?"

"I think he's gonna be just fine, once we get him warmed up and fattened up."

The grin on the young man's face made his heart even lighter. So alright then, everything was working out after all. He'd come for Chris as promised and brought him home; JD no longer had reason for his chin to be dragging on the ground; and best of all, not only was Chris spared grief, but he'd found love again. Maybe not where or how Buck would have chosen for him, but that just wasn't important anymore.

He'd learned his lesson alright - love came in all kinds of packages. Now if only the rest of the world could see it that way, Chris and Vin would have no worries at all. But since that wasn't likely to happen, he'd best figure out another way to keep the two lovers safe.

+++++++

The brown ceiling seemed familiar, yet different somehow. Chris blinked and took a deep breath, willing his foggy head to clear into some semblance of order. Gradually the pieces fell back into place, and he remembered where he was. Another cabin - his cabin - Buck and JD had brought them back. He vaguely recalled Buck pulling him off his horse and almost carrying him inside. Anything after that was lost in a black haze. He didn't even know if they'd taken care of Vin . . .

"Vin? Vin!" his throat was so dry, he wasn't sure he made any sound at all.

But he must have, because Buck quickly rushed to his side. "He's here. It's alright. Nathan's with him."

Pulling himself up on his elbows, he quickly surmised that he was on a pallet on the floor, and Vin was lying on his bed in the next room. He was about to push himself up and go to him, when Nathan turned towards him.

"Now just stay down," Nathan warned as he came to his side. "I'll tell you everything you wanna know."

Knowing wasn't enough, Chris thought, but they were back where they'd started - where he was just Vin's friend and nothing more. Wouldn't do for him to crawl up on the bed and wrap Vin in his arms, though that was exactly what he ached to do. Instead, he slumped back to the mat and waited for Nathan to fill him in.

"He needs heat, food, and rest. Same as you," Nathan said. It sounded simple enough, but the dark face was grim.

"So he's gonna be okay?"

"I think so. He's got a bit of a cough, but it's not too bad, considerin'. You're both way too thin - and neither one of y' ever had much to spare. But half the ladies in town have already sent food, so I reckon that won't be a problem much longer."

"Then why so grim, Nathan? What aren't you telling me?"

Nathan shifted uncomfortably. "You mind takin' a walk outside, Buck?"

Buck looked puzzled, but he replied, "I reckon I could stand some fresh air."

Once he was gone, Nathan sat down on the floor next to him. "Vin's been a bit out of his head, Chris. He's been, uh, sayin' some things. Things I don't think others need t' hear."

Chris felt the blood rise to his face, but he held Nathan's gaze. "Like what?"

"Like how he doesn't wanna leave you. Like how much he -he loves you."

It was bound to happen sooner or later. Buck knew, now Nathan; it wouldn't be long until they all knew. No point in denying it. "I feel the same about him, Nathan. Just so you know."

"Figured as much," Nathan replied. "Can't say I understand it, but it ain't up t' me to judge. But others might not feel the same, so I think it'd be best if it was just us-"

"Buck already knows."

That information seemed to surprise Nathan more than the news that he and Vin were lovers. "He does? He was sleepin' when Vin said those things . . . Well, alright then. But we need t' keep it between us."

Chris nodded and slowly pushed himself to his feet. If Nathan knew, there was no reason for him to lie on that hard mat alone.

"Where do you think you're goin'?" Nathan asked.

"Where I belong." Climbing on the bed next to Vin, he whispered in his ear, "I'm here, Vin."

He didn't expect a response and he didn't get one. But just knowing Vin had survived the trip home was enough. He wrapped one hand around Vin's arm, and before he knew it, he was dreaming of pink skies and waterfalls and coffee.

And in fact, it was the aroma of coffee that woke him hours later. Josiah was sitting next to the bed, a steaming mug in his hands. "God bless you, Josiah," he said as he gratefully reached for the cup.

Josiah grinned ear-to-ear. "I believe he already has, brother. Just having you and Vin home safe and sound is about the finest blessing I can think of."

Only just remembering that he'd fallen asleep in bed with Vin, Chris quickly moved to get to his feet.

"It's alright," Josiah soothed, holding him down with a strong hand to his arm. "I know, Chris. You don't need to hide anything from me."

"But - how?"

"I've known for a long time. Just didn't think it was my place to say anything. Fact is," he went on, "we all know. Talked about it some last night."

Chris pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the bed and took a long swallow of hot coffee so he could think a little longer on his words. He meant to sound gruff, but it came out more like desperate when he finally stated, "We can leave if it bothers anyone. I've thought about doing that anyway."

"Where you gonna go that two men loving each other will be accepted?" Josiah asked. "Seems to me, you're better off here with five friends who will go to their graves to protect your secret and keep you both safe."

"He's right, Chris," Buck said, barging into the room as well as the conversation.

He was right, but Chris wasn't ready to make that call just yet. Besides, it was Vin's decision, too. "We'll think on it."

"Think on something else, too. Ain't no reason for you and Vin t' come back t' town 'till spring. Maybe not even then," Buck said, his eyes holding Chris's.

"What are you saying, Buck?"

"I'm saying that me and the boys can keep you two well-supplied while you recover. And you two can have all the time - and the privacy - you need."

"That's true, Chris," Josiah agreed. "We've been looking after things in town these last two months, and we can do it for a few more."

Chris thought they'd both lost their minds. "You know we can't - how would - ? What would -? Hell, people would talk if we stay out here together indefinitely."

Buck nodded. "I reckon they would. But let's worry about that come spring. Right now, everyone knows Vin was hurt bad, and they know you damn near starved takin' care of him. So that's enough for now, ain't it? Unless you don't want more time alone?"

There was a twinkle in Buck's eye when he added the last question, and Chris had to grin in return. "I reckon we could handle a few more months on our own," he said.

A wide grin split Josiah's face. "It's settled then."

"You leavin' me here with a man who don't even share his coffee?" A muffled voice sounded from under the pile of blankets.

"Vin?" Chris's heart leapt as he pulled the covers back to reveal Vin's thin face. If Tanner's sense of humor was intact, he'd survived the journey far better than he had dared to hope.

"Don't look so surprised, Larabee," Vin rasped. "Told you I wasn't leavin' you."

Unable to stop himself from touching in spite of the presence of the others in the room, Chris put his hand to Vin's jaw and held his gaze. Yeah, they could use some more time alone. He finally looked away to ask, "Is that biscuits I smell? Or am I dreamin' again?"

Nathan chuckled as he walked through the door carrying a tray loaded down with more food than Chris had seen in months. "If this is a dream - it's a good one!" Nathan exclaimed.

"A damn good one," Buck agreed. "I'm starvin'!" he added as he reached for a biscuit.

Nathan slapped his hand. "You just wait your turn. These here are for Chris and Vin."

"But Nathan, I rode all night t' bring these boys home!"

The good-natured squabbling continued, but Chris had turned back to Vin. "They know about us, Pard - and they don't care," he said softly, the wonder of that still fresh in his mind.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Vin reached up and brushed a finger over Chris's lips. "Good," he said. "That's good."

Chris gripped Vin's hand and lightly kissed his fingers, mindless of the laughing and bickering that continued on behind his back.

With a soft sigh, Vin said, "Love you, Cowboy. But I just might have t' kill you if you don't give me that coffee."

+++++++

It seemed like it had been forever since they'd loved like this. A cool, spring breeze kissed their warm, naked bodies, and Chris moaned as he emptied his seed into Vin for the second time in as many hours.

"Damn, Larabee, I think you were purrin' like a fat cat," Vin teased.

Chris wiped the smug grin off his partner's face with a sloppy kiss. "I didn't hear you complainin'."

"You're right about that," Vin agreed. "Feels so good to be well again, to feel you inside me. I think we might should lay out here all day long - make sure we get our fill before we have t' head back t' town."

Chris rolled onto his back and groaned. "Let's not talk about that. It's still early in the season - we can wait a few more weeks."

"I reckon."

Vin sighed then, but by the look on his face, it was a sigh of contentment. His blue eyes reflected the sky above them, and Chris thought he could lay there all day long, could look at Vin all day long, could love Vin all day long, and still not get his fill.

"You see it now, Chris?" Vin asked dreamily, his gaze still turned towards the sky.

He didn't want to look away from Vin, but he turned his head anyway and looked upward. "Looks like a blue sky t' me, Pard."

"That all you see?"

He saw Vin's eyes in that sky, but he figured that talk might be a little too sweet for Vin, so he answered, "Yeah. What should I see?"

"Right there - that spot of pink, just behind that pure white cloud hittin' the top of the mountain. And over there, see how the sun is bouncin' off the trees, makin' that pretty green haze? Damn, that's nice. Now if you look yonder, you'll see just a hint of red - that's my favorite part. I ever tell you I like red?"

Chris grinned, thinking how enticing Vin always looked in his red shirt. "Yeah, you did."

"Bit of orange mixed in, too. Practically got a rainbow up there today."

Narrowing his eyes, Chris focused harder, and sure enough, he saw all the colors Vin had just described. "Well damn, Vin, you're right."

"Told you I'd teach you how t' paint the sky."

The sky, the land, the air - his life - everything in the world held more color with Vin in it. "I learned my lesson," Chris said softly.

"Yeah? Well, good. 'Cause I got a few other things I've been meanin' to show you," Vin mumbled as he turned towards him and started nibbling on his ear.

"That right?" Chris breathed, but the sigh turned into a groan when Vin's teeth found a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. And as Vin's talented mouth worked its way down his body, his gaze drifted upward again and the heavens exploded into a kaleidoscope of color.

He'd painted the sky. And he could only imagine what Vin might teach him next.

The End

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