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MAIN CHARACTERS: Buck, Chris, Vin
TYPE OF STORY: Slash
UNIVERSE: ATF
PAIRING: Chris/Vin, Buck/Chris implied
Buck slid out of the truck, cradling the bag of breakfast goodies against his chest as he bounced up to the front door of Chris’ house. Twisting the door knob and throwing his shoulder against the door, he was surprised to find it still locked. Usually by this time on Saturday, Chris had already been out to deal with the stock and was settling in at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, his idea of breakfast. Buck, as he had so many times before, had a better idea. Some biscuits and gravy, sausage and scrambled eggs from Rosario’s to start and a day spent with his old friend. Time with the horses, maybe tinker around on the old car in the barn, a few beers and steak on the grill later in the day. Who knew where that would lead? Buck had his ideas and it probably wouldn’t take much to convince Chris. After all, it’d been a few weeks since they’d been together.Juggling the bag and its Styrofoam containers carefully onto his left arm, Buck dug his keys out and opened the door. Moving quietly to the kitchen table, he deposited his largess carefully and looked around. Paper was on the table, fresh coffee in the pot… where was Chris? He started to check the head, but what he saw when he glanced out the door to the deck stopped him in his tracks.
It was Chris, clad only in the gray jersey pants Buck had given him for Christmas years ago, leaning his back against the railing of the deck. He was turned just enough toward the house that Buck could see his lips were buried against the neck of the man he held in his arms. Vin Tanner was bare-chested and bare-footed too, leaning back into Chris’ arms, tilting his head away from Chris to give him better access and laughing.
Stunned, Buck stood speechless, watching as Vin turned his face to the man holding him, his left hand caressing Chris’ jaw and pulling him in for a kiss. A slow, languid kiss... a kiss full of heat and tenderness.
The intimacy of the moment struck Buck like a splash of cold water and he stumbled away from the sight. Trying to process what he’d seen and what it meant, he headed to Chris’ room, anxiety building in his gut but not over-riding his need for physical proof of what he knew in his heart.
And there it was. Chris’ king-sized bed, sheets rumpled, covers askew and the scent of sex heavy in the air. Buck knew the signs – black jeans and faded blue ones tangled on the floor spoke of rushed passion, pillows piled into a nest at the head of the bed meant post-sex conversation and closeness. Evidence of a meal on the bedside table made it obvious Vin had stayed all night. The only reason Chris would leave dirty dishes in the bedroom was if he was too busy or too tired to get up and clean up. So it must’ve been a marathon session. Condom wrappers, an open bottle of slick, drying stains on the sheets - so much more than Buck had wanted to see. But without the visual evidence, he knew he would have tried to convince himself, somehow, that he hadn’t seen what he’d seen through the window. And this was one truth he had to face.
So he stood, taking in the evidence of Chris making love to someone other than him, in the bed he considered theirs. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear voices coming closer but he couldn’t look away, couldn’t make himself move.
Then he heard “Shit” in a distinctly, Texan accent voice from the hallway behind him.
Instincts honed in a lifetime of dealing with unpleasant truths brought his lips up in a smile most people would have sworn was real and he raised an eyebrow at the two men standing in the doorway, staring at him. “Well now boys, is there somethin’ you’d like to tell Uncle Buck?”
+ + + + + + +
Chris returned the half-hearted wave from Buck as he drove his red truck away. His hand fell to his hip and his head dropped. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to hit something or... hit something. Damn Buck and his lousy timing - no, in all honesty he couldn’t blame Buck. The man had had a key to every door Chris had lived behind for as long as they’d known each other. And it was common for him to just drop by. It was just bad, bad timing. He and Vin had talked about how to tell the team about them and they had agreed that Buck had to be the first to know. Chris just hadn’t worked out exactly what to say and how. This was important, and truth be told, he was unsure of what Buck’s reaction would be. So, of course, he’d gotten defensive and everything had come out wrong.
He and Vin had been headed back to the bed, both hard and ready when Vin’s softly voiced “Shit” had stopped him. There, in his bedroom, stood Buck, silently surveying the mess he and Vin had made of the room. Then Buck had turned, a blatantly fake smile plastered under his moustache and blue eyes conveying the truth his loud “Well now boys” tried to hide.
Buck had brushed past them on his way toward the kitchen. Vin had tried to be invisible, mumbling something about “cleanin’ up in here” before he slipped into the bedroom. Chris had tried to sooth him with a touch to his arm but Vin had looked at him warily, pointing with his chin to the rest of the house … and Buck. “I’m all right. You better go talk to him.”
In the kitchen, Buck had been running water in the sink to fill a tall glass. More likely to buy some time, Chris knew. The smile had still been in place when he turned, still as false as it had been in the bedroom. “I brought breakfast. You and Junior can nuke it when you get hungry after while.” He had chugged a good portion of the water before finally looking at Chris. “So, stud, this been goin’ on long?”
Chris had felt the anger under the question and tried to find the right words. As a long time friend and sometime lover, Buck had a right to question him, had a right to know. “No, Buck, not long at all. It just sort of… happened a couple weeks ago.” His words had sounded pathetic, even to himself, and he was irritated that he used them.
And it hadn’t helped when Buck had snorted “Just happened? Don’t shit me, Chris. Jumpin’ in bed with a man you work with don’t “just happen” and we both know it. There’s too much at stake. Careers, reputations, hell, lives! Or at least that’s what you used to tell me about us.” Long fingers had raked through dark hair before clenching in a fist and falling to his side. “You’re already lettin’ him stay the night?” There had been so much pain in the usually velvety voice. “Damn Chris, we’d been getting’ it on for years before you let me stay. And never on the weekend when somebody might show up.”
Buck had drained the glass and carefully placed it in the sink He had searched Chris’ face for what seemed like minutes. Whatever he had seen there seemed to have defeated him. Chris remembered the way the broad shoulders seemed to droop as those dark blue eyes traced over the lines in his face. "Wish you’d told me, Chris. I don’t like to make a fool of m’self, you know that. And I sure didn’t intend to embarrass you or Vin.”
“I’m not embarrassed about bein’ with Vin, Buck. It is a might uncomfortable having you come in on us like this, but it’s nothing I was intending to keep secret from you – or anyone else.” Chris had made a move to close the space between him and Buck but the other man had stepped away, raising a hand as if to ward him off.
Anger and hurt had mixed on Buck’s face then, making it painful to see. “Boy must have a magic ass or something. I’ll have to hand it to him. A couple of weeks after it “just happened” and you’re gonna come right on out of that closet, letting the world know the great straight Chris Larrabee, who has never even looked at another man, has suddenly turned queer and has a sweet little lover boy.”
Despite his best efforts, Chris had felt his anger rise. “Buck, that’s enough.”
“Bullshit, Chris. It ain’t near enough! You and me been hitting it pretty steady for almost 20 years now and you’d hardly admit it to yourself, let alone anybody else. All that time you kept it hidden away, like it was something foul and filthy. And here Junior comes bouncing along and you’re ready to waltz right out in the open with him.” Buck had stopped and laughed, a hard sound that rang in the room. “Guess we’ll have to stop calling him “Junior” – sounds kind of incestuous now that you’re suckin’ his dick, don’t ya think?” Chris’ right fist had impacted across the bottom of his left jaw and left him swaying.
“That’s enough, Buck. I’m not gonna let you run Vin down like that. He hasn’t done anything wrong. Be as mad at me as you wanna, but leave him out of it. And whether or not you approve, he’s here,” hands spreading to encompass the house “to stay.” Chris’ temper had gone from a simmer to medium heat in a flash. He didn’t want to fight with his old friend, but there were limits to what he would take, even knowing Buck was hurt.
The punch had seemed to deflate Buck, who had stood silent in the middle of the floor, the light slowly dying from his eyes. He had looked away from Chris and rubbed his hands down over his face. “You’re right, Chris, you’re right. Apologize to Vin for me, would ya? He means enough to you for you to not hide it, that says a lot.” He had looked away then, shaking his head. “Says a whole lot about a lot of things I should’ve figured out a long time ago.” He had looked at Chris then, one side of his mouth curled in a small, rueful smile. “Sorry for makin’ a scene, stud. Not my style, y’know. Maybe we can chalk it up to the shock of it all. Must be getting’ a little too old for big surprises.”
He had moved toward the door, pausing to gesture at the bag of Styrofoam containers on the table. “Some of that should still be salvageable. Y'all enjoy it. I’m just gonna head on out. See ya at the office on Monday.” Buck had paused at the door and turned around. “Don’t worry. I won’t say nothin’ to none of the boys. That’s for you and Vin to do.” He had locked eyes one last time with Chris before taking a deep, shuddering breath and walking out.
Chris had followed him out of the house and watched him drive away. Now he watched the bright red pickup grow smaller and smaller until it faded out of sight. He felt… he didn’t know how he felt. He didn’t’ have the words for it. He heard a soft footstep on the gravel behind him and turned. There was Vin, patiently, wordlessly, waiting to see what he needed and ready to give it to him.
End