Wild Night: Rushed

Rushed. A total rush. If there was anything Vin Tanner missed about bounty hunting, it was this. The pure adrenaline rush that was so close to being drugged, it could almost be the next extreme sport. There was fear too -- all part of it; just the low sing of anxiety that passed like lightning through his blood. A different kind of fear than when he'd been on his own, knowing he had to keep an eye to his back as well as in front, but no more and that fear fled like a guilty shadow, leaving only the pure rush of anticipation and exhilaration in its wake. His back was covered and not only by the damp brick of the alley and the fluid shadows of evening.

Chris was there, almost close enough to touch, silent and solid and more cautious than Vin felt which was probably a good thing because he was having way more fun than he should be watching a two-bit hood with a loyalty problem. One last minute break before the weekend on a case stalled for months and he and Chris Larabee the only ones in the office to get the call. Vin thought, maybe, he should be grumbling about losing the start of his weekend this way, but he couldn't. He hadn't offered even a squeak of complaint when Chris had asked him if he was up to a little dog and pace on Ignacio Garza instead of the beer Vin had been anticipating.

They'd blown out of the office so fast, Vin had barely had time to let the predatory gleam in Chris' eyes settle enough to be filed away. It wasn't a look Chris often got, playing behind the lines so much, and Vin had been as caught up in Chris' anticipation of a little free rein and unplanned field work as in his own excitement at coming closer to closing the case.

Even the neighborhood hadn't dimmed his enthusiasm, although it had brought Chris' caution up a notch. Still, when Vin looked back, he saw the wolfish grin on his boss' face and met it with one of his own. Garza was in the bar across the street, the third he'd hit in the area in the last two hours, moving in and out of places like a delivery boy -- save he wasn't. Picking up payments, more like, and at the end of his run, maybe something they could use when they figured out who he was playing revenue agent for. But he'd been in this bar longer and Vin found himself bouncing on the balls of his feet a little. There was a lot of movement on the street -- especially after dark. Denver's seedier side coming to life at sunset and the same hookers and hunters vanishing when the dawn broke. Vin was half afraid Garza had slipped out the back.

Vin shifted back, eyes still on the bar until his shoulder connected with Chris'. "I'm movin' in. See if c'n spot Ignacio before he slithers away."

Chris caught his arm, clasping it near the elbow to pull him back a little, and Vin turned enough to see Chris' face, the flickering light at the front of the building offering enough illumination to show that breathless anticipation was back on Larabee's face. Green eyes gleamed like a cat's, the white teeth flashing and Chris' hand warm and firm on his skin like an anchor, or a lifeline. Vin returned the grip. "Won't be long," he promised, laugher bubbling up at the pair of them, unable to deny the feeling that they were doing something illicit and not likely to get caught. Maybe...it was half the fun.

Chris' voice was a low rumble against Vin's ear but with enough volume to send warm air across his skin and cheek. "I've got your back," Chris said only, as if it needed to be to be said at all and Vin met his gaze, raising an eyebrow as if there could be any doubt and returned the grin that got wider on Chris' face. Then he was moving before he did laugh -- and had to explain it. Who needed to jump off a bridge with an elastic cord around your ankle when you did this for a living?

He was snickering though, as he crossed the street, knowing Chris would move closer to the head of the alley, just so he could watch Vin's back. And that fact, solid and real and safe-feeling, made Vin feel a little more reckless, high spirits probably just enough to make him act like a junkie after a fix.

The bar was too crowded and too dark for Vin to risk going in right off, but he might be able to see something as the ebb and flow of people moved in and out and around him. The pattern of movement pulsed like blood to the steady bass beat coming from the bar's speakers. The bar wasn't that large and Vin put his back to a telephone pole, testing the feel of the crowd. Upbeat and single minded, as near as he could tell. Business was good.

Vin saw the slim hipped young man before he actually moved in, that glance enough of an invitation for the slender blond to feel bold enough to come forward. His arm slipped around Vin's shoulder and Vin didn't push him off, not wanting to make a scene and it was as good a cover as any. "Look like you're waiting for someone, sugar. Might be me?" The offer was accompanied by the press of the prostitute's warm body against Vin's. He couldn't be more than twenty, and maybe not as far gone into drugs or debt as some. Vin only smiled, and tried to ignore the natural but distracting reaction of his body to the suggestive press and slide of the other man's crotch against his own. "Eager are we?" the prostitute said, looking pretty pleased with the results of his efforts and Vin laughed.

"Maybe, but still waiting fer someone else...like the look but a little older," Vin said and then felt his face flush, wondering where that had come from. It worked though, the prostitute backing off with a flirty glance.

"Your loss," the other man said with a shrug and traced a finger along Vin's jaw with a smile before moving off down the street.

"Oh, Lord," Vin breathed, closing his eyes only briefly and refusing to look back at Chris until his treacherous body could be brought to heel. Now he was jazzed *and* hard. Laughter escaped him again and he opened his eyes, then turned away, cursing softly, his laughter stopped mid chuckle. Garza was coming out but he wasn't alone, and the man accompanying him would certainly know Vin if he got a good look. Louis Richmond was hired muscle from further south, and Vin had brought him in not once, but twice when he was still tracking bail jumpers. There was no way to wait for them to pass without being seen -- they were coming right past him and if Richmond saw him -- the good mood on this street could turn ugly really fast. Vin groaned softly as he dropped his head, jeans still lingeringly tight and likely to get worse but he had to move. God, Larabee was going to never let him live this down and Vin wished he were wearing baggier clothes.

No time and he rolled his shoulders to the left, trotting back across the street and into the alley. He tried not to think of the fact that Chris was going to tease him for his condition, only to suddenly catch a glimpse of Chris' face as he checked the south side of the street. Blond, slim, ...older: the resemblance not really having settled in Vin's mind until he caught Chris in half light, lean and commanding even while he tried his best to blend into the background. Larabee had about as much luck with that as these folks ignoring a lion walking amongst them. Seeing Chris there, alert and coiled, ready for anything, his tight black jeans and shirt making him all shadow until you got to the paler, proud face and the startling gleam of green eyes and the glint of light off of the thick blond hair didn't help the constriction in Vin's jeans at all. Whatever resemblance might have been between Chris and Vin's would-be suitor vanished. Then Vin had to laugh at what Chris would think about being compared to an underweight male prostitute.

He hit the shadows and turned, checking behind him and coming up on Chris faster than he meant to until he almost backed the other man into the wall, trying to get them both out of even the spare reflected light.

A mistake, even as Vin spotted Garza and his friend on the sidewalk, talking. Chris reached out to catch him, to keep himself from being pressed to the wall any more than he was but he was close enough. His broad chest pressed to Vin's back and a warm breath washed across Vin's neck and shoulder as Chris opened his stance a bit to keep them from stumbling, Vin's ass was pulled into the open curve of Chris' pelvis like it was waiting for him. The flash of arousal lanced through him again, sharp and sweetly painful, then again when he felt a heavier pressure on his ass. Before he could even really register that pressure as Chris' swelling cock trying to fill the crack of his ass, he saw Garza and his friend cross the street, heading directly toward them

"Shit," he said softly and shifted, wondering if they could get out without being seen. "Garza--" he whispered to Chris. "And *company*," he said letting Chris know by tone that this was a bad thing. The alley was blind, sealed at one end, and any move they made would bring them into the light and Vin suddenly put his back to the suspect, doing the only thing he could think of. "Sorry about this, cowboy," he said, and pressed Chris back against the wall again and caught his face, covering Chris' mouth with his own before Larabee could even register the surprise.

Vin held them there, hoping, praying, that in this area, Garza nor his friend would even glance at them.

He hadn't expected Chris to start kissing him back though. It took a moment, anxiety not really letting him worry about what he was doing...until *they* were doing it and then he couldn't think at all. Chris' jaw was slightly rough under his hand but his mouth was not. It was soft, warm, moist and Vin shuddered a little as the mobile lips and then a clever tongue moved against his own mouth. He could feel Chris against him from shoulder to knees, the bulge that had fit so oddly but so nicely against his ass now finding an equally comfortable home against the hollow of his hip. He was half braced against Chris, the other man holding him first in surprise but even when he recovered from that, he didn't push Vin away. Chris' hands moved from his shoulders to his hips and then to his ass and suddenly Vin was a lot closer to Chris than he'd intended, even to kiss him, and a whole lot unsteadier on his feet. He felt a little drunk, if not high, the rush still present but building higher at the scent of Chris in his nostrils, the taste of him -- all spice and salt and sweat and nothing of the alley or the streets at all on his skin or in his mouth. Slim, hard hips pressed to his, and he found himself pressed so firmly to Chris' chest, he could feel the sharp uplift of his ribcage, the lift of pecs and sternum when Chris breathed. The muscled thigh pressed between his own was like a promise and Vin found himself sliding against it, even as Chris' hands dug into his ass and pulled him closer. He let his own hands slide upward, into the thick, soft gold of Chris' hair, fingers stroking across the other man's skull as Vin sucked harder on the tongue so desperately looking to change owners.

Garza, Richmond, the point of being here at all, were lost under the pressure of Chris' body against his own and he lifted his head, gasping for air. He'd forgotten how to breathe -- then he forgot all over again seeing those green eyes fixed on his own, a little glazed and unfocused, and Chris' full lips parted and wet. Chris was a little wild eyed and panting too, biting his lip as Vin pressed against him, their cocks nudging each other through denim.

There was no mistaking the hardness between Chris's thighs for anything but arousal, the subtle rock and thrust as instinctive as it was inevitable and Vin panted against the coil of sensation building in his groin and belly. Then he groaned as two fingers worked their way through a worn spot on his jeans, just under his ass, callused pads stroking over bare skin.

Vin sucked in air on a gasp, unable to find brain cells enough to speak, leaning into Chris because his legs really were threatening to buckle if he didn't come in his jeans first. He pulled back, not sure what he expected to see on Chris' face but it wasn't the spine melting glimmer of lust -- no matter what they'd been doing. But it was there and unmistakable and Vin felt a little dizzy, breathed too shallowly, but he couldn't help respond to that look, the idea of wanting Chris this badly and this way both startling and not. The desire was not new but it was so barricaded away under the guarded doors of friendship it never occurred to him that Chris might want him as well.

And just as that thought, that possibility, sank in, what light there was scattered across the alley floor was broken and interrupted as their target passed by, shoulder to shoulder with Richmond and neither man even giving them a notice.

They were still on the job and Vin was suddenly ready to take the damn song's advice and shove it, only he couldn't. But he wasn't willing to give up this new hunt altogether. On almost the same heartbeat, he and Chris put just enough space between them to let cool air wash over them, the sudden change in temperature from molten to merely steamy enough to make Vin shiver just slightly but he met Chris' gaze, a brief second of invitation and challenge and then he was grinning at his own daring.

The predator in Chris resurfaced and Vin had a sudden desire to be prey to that hungry look, and planned on it but Chris only smiled darkly at him and shrugged, pushing off from the wall to brush past Vin, deliberately too close, and then headed to the alley mouth.

Vin followed quickly, reaching out to snag a hand around Chris' waist before he could step fully into the light. "Feller with Garza is Louis Richmond. He knows me -- on sight," he warned but glanced down the street to make sure he could still see the two men. He could, but too much longer and they'd lose them.

Chris hesitated only briefly before nodding. "We'll stay back then," he said and then gave Vin a smile of pure wickedness before wrapping his arm around Vin's neck and pulling him onto the side walk, hips bumping together and Vin's arm automatically wrapped around Chris' waist, as they walked. "Lovers out for a night on the town," Chris whispered roughly into his ear, rekindling the heat in Vin's groin. Vin stumbled from the sensation of Chris' teeth biting quick and sharp into his ear. "Relax...I won't let you fall," Chris promised and Vin couldn't find breath or sense enough to tell him it was too late already.

Chris' arm half hid his face and he had to trust Chris not to let him run into anyone. It was a little awkward until Vin finally caught the hand near his face, tangling their fingers and digging the fingers of his other hand into the back pocket of Chris' jeans. Their strides found a rhythm and they moved, following the two men slowly.

At the corner the two men stopped and turned, waiting for the traffic to pause on their side, and Chris' arm suddenly tightened and pulled Vin in, mouth covering his and effectively obscuring Vin's face. Vin sincerely hoped Chris was keeping an eye on the pair because he couldn't. Chris' mouth demanded of his almost brutally, leaving Vin once more gasping for air and barely able to make sense of the whispered, "They're splitting up...Richmond's getting a cab..." Chris said and once more captured Vin's mouth until the man was safely out of the picture.

"Gonna lose Garza," Vin murmured but found himself drawn along once more, Chris' arm around his waist this time. Which was a good thing because Vin was finding it difficult to walk between weak knees and a tight ache in his groin that didn't feel like it was going away anytime soon. The taste of the other man still lingered on his tongue and lips, the scent of him -- sweat and spicy aftershave -- was like an aphrodisiac. Vin was half tempted to just up and shoot Garza if only to end his own frustration.

Chris snugged him tighter against himself, Vin's hand flattening along his back when he realized Chris wasn't any too steady either -- the pair of them almost weaving like drunks and Vin fought back the urge to laugh again, then did when he heard the frustration in Chris' voice. "Garza can go to hell," Chris declared roughly.

The laughter came bubbling up again, as much at their own distraction and crossed purposes as anything, Vin wanting a resolution of one kind or another -- and at the moment, Garza wasn't his best hoped-for answer. "We could shoot him," he offered, eyes dancing and saw the humor of their situation mirrored in Chris' eyes. Vin wasn't even sure they were doing the case any good, dogging after the man and distracted as all hell -- but it was part of it: recognition and denial, following the fine edge of recklessness like walking a high fence line, dancing on a wire...

Chris was a little more pragmatic, or just stubborn, attention drawn back to the street and Vin did his best to stay with the program, eyes narrowing as he saw Garza hesitate at the intersection then make a decision, turning a corner with a quickness that made Vin wonder if he hadn't made them, or if Richmond had and given Garza a warning.

He forced himself to put a little space between he and Chris, the two of them tag teaming their prey as Garza led them along the outlying maze of streets and alleys, that were giving way to less occupied and much darker paths. Vin's lust cooled a bit, recognizing the area, and the danger here -- willing to follow Chris to hell and back but not much liking the path he was taking. Garza paused again and headed down an angled narrow dark street between two windowless buildings and Chris was set to follow. Vin found a landmark and swore softly, pulling Chris back into the last doorway that would afford them any cover. "'s a dead end," he hissed softly, glancing back the way they'd come and then down the shadowy road, seeing people moving, but they were warier here and while business might be good here as well, it was mostly like to be of the mugging kind.

The clouds moved in, obscuring even the mild light of moon and stars and Garza seemed to vanish like a ghost into the shadows. Chris squatted low to pull his gun from his boot, then pressed his arm across Vin's chest to let him know who was taking point and Vin made a choked warning sound that brought another feral grin to Chris' face. Before Vin could form a real word of protest, Chris moved from the doorway and Vin crouched to pull his own weapon as well, cursing himself and Chris for good measure. This was not a street they wanted to travel, but Chris was already moving for a better view around battered cars and abandoned ones, and the piles and cans of refuse that clocked the sidewalk and their view.

The crouch to pull his gun was the lucky chance that let Vin see the glimmer of light shifting under the line of cars: low light, blue neon runners casting a ghostly glimmer on the pavement. Vin's head jerked up, feeling disaster lurking as a passing car from the other side left Chris illuminated for a dangerous few moments, Chris not seeing it with his back to the opening of the street. Vin was already moving when he heard the squeal of rubber on wet pavement and the strained revving of an engine. The snap and crack of a gun being fired launched a scream of protest in Vin's brain that never found voice, seeing Chris jerk back and stumble, other shadows on the street ducking for cover. Every ounce of energy and will Vin possessed propelled him forward at a sprint that launched a desperate tackle.

He caught Chris around the waist and chest, twisting his own body to break their fall against the door of a parked car and dropping into the scant protection it offered. Vin wrapped himself around Larabee as the car sped past, headlights off and only the ghostly glow of the neon runners marking its wake. It swerved close enough to scatter gravel and the dank smell of standing water over them before rocking away and taking the curve on two wheels and roaring off into the night.

Chris fought him a little then stopped, head dropping back and Vin shifted, glancing up to make sure Garza wasn't trying for a second pass and to give himself enough room to check Chris for injuries. He could see so little in the darkness, Chris' black clothes not helping and Vin was forced to rely on his sense of touch for wet patches that would indicate blood and be nearly invisible against the black jeans and black shirt. He checked Chris' head first: face and hair and found wetness but it smelled and felt like water and left no stains on his fingers. "Chris! Larabee!" he called, hearing the labored breathing beneath him and fearing there was damage he was missing.

"Chris," he called again, having gotten no response, once more tracing fingers along Chris' face and the back of his head, looking for swelling, cuts, and then felt his lungs constrict for a moment of breathless relief when Chris opened his eyes, blinked and focused on him and grinned. Then started laughing. Vin couldn't even be angry, just glad to see awareness in the shadow darkened eyes, and shifted to finish his examination; knowing they'd hit the ground hard and he had seen Chris falter and stumble without knowing why. "Y' all right," Chris?" he asked, feeling along ribs and arms for bruises, scrapes or breaks and found nothing but a few scratches, the tearing of one sleeve of Chris' shirt but no real wound below.

"Yeah, I'm all right," Chris said but didn't try to get up, still taking deep breaths but slower, and Vin's searching hands stroked to soothe rather than examine, figuring Chris had had the breath knocked out of him if nothing else. His own breathing was less than steady, the adrenaline and fear easing off and Vin once more became aware of Chris' body. Suddenly, viscerally aware of the fact that he was half sprawled across the man, that Chris's muscles were still tensed from their near miss, his body tight and hard and warm against Vin's -- and very, very much alive. The possibility that he could have died, been killed right in front of Vin, to lose this man who had become closer to him and more important to him than anyone Vin had ever known left Vin feeling unbalanced and equal parts scared and grateful.

Too many signals and Vin felt dizzy with it, his body responding to Chris' nearness as if they'd never interrupted their earlier heated teasing. At the same time he was almost afraid to move, to get them off the pavement until he knew, had some kind of indication from Chris other than his single muttered assurance, that he was okay. Even anger at losing Garza would be preferable to the anxiety of not knowing what was going through Chris' mind -- something Vin usually could figure out pretty accurately.

Chris still didn't answer with words, but his hands came up stroking along Vin's back and sides and then lower, an expression halfway between a smile and open curiosity on his face as his hands moved lower. Chris' right hand still curled around the handle of his gun, his knuckles and the hard edge of steel sending a shiver through Vin as Chris rubbed along his back and ribs. Chris' other hand slid open palmed along the same path on the opposite side until the broad hand came to rest underneath his butt. Vin's breath caught as inquisitive but gentle fingers once more found the tear in the denim and slid beneath and within, Chris' fingers probing along the tear where it rode toward Vin's ass, then stroking lightly, the barest brush of fingertips along the inside of his thigh.

That touch and the look on Chris' face sent a rush of heated blood to Vin's loins and he pushed up a little, wanting more, but all too aware of where they were and rapidly heading toward not caring. Chris' eyes were fixed on his, lips parted slightly, Vin not sure if he saw an invitation or a question there and he needed to be sure, knowing there was no way Chris could miss his arousal. "You want a piece of what you've got a hold of there, cowboy?" he asked, breathless and poised, bracing his arms and feeling like maybe he'd gotten some of his own back, when Chris' eyes widened and darkened with surprise and maybe lust. Vin smiled. Served the asshole right for scaring him.

"Hell, this here place's a little more public n' even I like, Larabee. Never knew ya was so bent," he said of the shock on Chris' face. Before Chris could answer he pushed up and twisted to the side, dislodging the fingers that seared his skin without actually tearing the fabric any wider. He rose to his feet, stepping wide and offering his hand to pull the other man up. For just a moment, Chris remained sprawled on his back and Vin sought moisture for his suddenly dry mouth at the sight of him. Sweat and the damp ground had plastered the black shirt to the well defined chest, the black denims were as snug as Vin's own, curving around thigh and hip and nicely and invitingly rounded at the crotch. Vin wanted a taste of something that was dangerously like forbidden knowledge, wondering if the teasing and the baiting they'd been doing for the last forty minutes was all there would ever be. Having had a taste of Chris' mouth and skin, felt the strength of that body and the heat of it, Vin wanted more, preferably now, not willing to think beyond the moment. He refused to wonder what damage might be done if he told his best friend, his boss, how very desperately he wanted to peel those black jeans away and quench both thirst and hunger on the taste of Chris' cock. He was still jazzed and high and scared and riding the rush of adrenaline enough to hope Chris did want a piece of what he'd been holding; what he'd been stroking.

The longing was reinforced when Chris finally clasped his hand, body flexing and uncoiling with a fluid grace and ease of movement that just sent Vin's blood pressure higher. His heart was pounding too fast and hard when Chris didn't release his hand, didn't step back to get his balance but stepped in, standing slightly taller than Vin but not by much, eyes glinting dangerously. A single callused finger came up to rasp along the side of his cheek, tease and challenge in that touch. "You like to do it in public, Vin?" Chris asked him, softly, almost backing Vin to the car that had protected them until Vin felt the unyielding metal behind him. The clouds overhead shifted, sending silvery light down. The lightest of drizzles started cooling Vin's skin but not enough, never enough, when Chris moved in, all but trapping Vin against the car.

Vin licked his lips again, not sure what to say. He was trapped by his own words and suddenly he didn't care if a dozen people were watching; if the street, or the car, or the shadowy brick alley behind them were the place of choice to do it, as long as they did something. "It's not the where, it's the who with," he said feeling both bold and foolish, meeting Chris' gaze and lifting his chin, praying all this had not been just a bit of the devil in Larabee to get out and taste the rush of pursuit and edgy danger. He thought not, but he was so confused and turned around and most of all just overwhelmed by desire and lust and need he couldn't think straight. The truck was too far away, his apartment further and Vin wanted Chris now...

Feeling like he was diving off a cliff he pushed away from the car, upright, and his arms caught Chris at waist and neck. Turning the other man's head, he sealed their mouths together with no warning, his other hand diving beneath the waistband of the black denim at the rear with force enough to give him friction burns across the back of his hand. It was worth it to feel the hot, firm flesh of Chris' ass across his palm, the softer curve where his buttocks parted.

His fingers dug into Chris' hair, holding him, tilting his head to gain better access to Chris' mouth and then breaking away to leave a trail of moist, hard nips and bites along Chris' jaw and throat. Chris' body was tight and stiff but he wasn't pulling away and Vin only prayed he wasn't wrong when he finally met the dark eyes and tossed his head toward the alley. "Semi private room right back there," he said breathlessly. "No waiting."

A heartbeat passed and Chris' eyes narrowed. Vin swallowed carefully, wondering if he'd pushed too far too fast. Then Chris closed the distance, what little there was. "I've never been too high on waiting," Chris said, voice as rough and low as Vin had ever heard it. One hand slid up the swell of Vin's pectorals, to curl around his shoulder, Chris' other hand sliding over the curve of his ass to find the bared skin there and Vin stopped thinking before Chris could change his mind. Hooking an arm around Chris' waist he slid them sideways, tugging Chris determinedly toward the front of the car and around, the rhythm of their steps easier but almost rushed. Vin felt like they were flying; he was anyway, covering the thirty feet or so to the darkened alley without his feet remembering the ground.

He checked still, cocking his head to listen and studying the shadows. He hadn't forgotten where they were, but he saw nothing, heard nothing except the soft 'susss' of tires on pavement from the cross street, and the distant throbbing beat of music from the bars a few blocks away. He could have laughed at himself, at them both for worrying about it -- since it was the edge of danger that had started all this.

His survey took less than two breaths and he refocused, twisting Chris around into the deeper shadows on their left, taking the near obscuring bulk of the trashcans at the head of the alley into consideration. He heard Chris exhale softly as his back hit the wall and looked up -- there was just enough light for Vin to see the glint of his eyes, the softened paleness of his face and the dark inviting slash of his open mouth.

Vin leaned in, wanting to touch what he had not, open palms sliding from the steady heave of Chris' chest to his waist and around, curling his fingers to tug at the dark fabric of Chris' T-shirt to pull it free. The lift of the fabric exposed more pale flesh, warm and hard, and Vin spread his fingers, ghosting his palms forward and upward, beneath the shirt so the fabric rucked up, over his wrists. He didn't need to see to feel the ripple of ribs under hot, flesh-sheathed muscle, or the swell of Chris' pecs. His fingers were sensitive enough to find the difference between the smooth skin of Chris' chest and the softer pebbled skin of his nipples and just that blind touch was enough for them to harden and rise. The scratch of his fingernails across them had Chris inhaling sharply.

Pulling one hand free Vin's lifted it to trace the curve of Chris' lips as if he were blind, then leaned in, letting Chris' breath wash over his face for just a second before kissing him again. He pinched the nipple he still toyed with and Chris' mouth opened, Vin taking full advantage of the opportunity. He barely noticed when one of Chris' hands found his hair again. The other rubbed along his back and Vin stretched like a cat, pressing the full length of his body to Chris' and pushing up on his toes lightly, grinding their crotches together.

Not that either of them needed a reminder. Cool air washed across his back, his own shirt pulled free. Something cold and hard pressed along his spine and he pulled back, grinning up at Chris. "Easy there, cowboy. I think I surrendered," he said and reached back to catch Chris' arm, pulling it between them and carefully freeing the gun from the tight clasp of Chris' fingers.

Chris made a sound, closer to a growl than words. "I'll put it away," he said and Vin shook his head slightly.

"Naw. Let me," he said, and let his hand trace along Chris' chest to his belly to his waist and then over the swell of his cock as he squatted. It took a little fumbling, but Vin managed to get the gun into the ankle holster, and settled the bottom of Chris jeans back in place, neat as a boy scout.

He took a breath, and let his knees hit the wet pavement of the alley, looking up at Chris and not surprised to find himself being watched. "Since I'm down here, " he rasped softly and pulled at the snap of Chris' jeans, fingers working quickly, driven by his own desire and the rumbling groan Chris let out. Even with a zipper, Vin had to work at it, Chris so swollen there was hardly any give in the fabric and only the thin fabric of his briefs kept Vin from inflicting more pain than pleasure.

And he wanted to pleasure Chris. He was already feeling his own world rocking on its heels -- a heady, euphoric wash of pleasure and anticipation. He pulled and the denim peeled back. Another, gentler, tug and the stretched fabric of Chris' briefs was peeled back as well exposing the flushed erect flag of Chris Larabee's cock. Vin barely registered the harsh, strangled sound from above him, fingers curling around the thick shaft, knuckles brushing across the curled, crinkled hairs surrounding the base of the hard flesh.

Scent washed over him: rich and musky sweet, tanged with sweat and then slicked wet and spiced with the release of precum from the tip. Squeezing lightly, Vin felt Chris jerk, hands reaching blindly for purchase on the wall and in Vin's hair. His own dick throbbed hot and urgent in his jeans. The first press of his lips to the head of Chris cock left a smear of the pale liquid on his lips. He licked it off, savoring the first taste, then licked the tip of Chris' cock, clearing the skin, tasting, teasing, making sure that small slit was taken care of before giving a bit more attention to the rest of the swollen head. It fit just fine in his mouth, his tongue exploring while his hand stroked and soothed, tightened some because Chris was so ready this could be over far more quickly than Vin wanted. And he wanted.

He sucked and licked, opened mouth and throat and took Chris further in, slowly, teasing, able to feel the barely restrained tension and strength in Chris' body that kept him from just thrusting his cock into Vin's mouth. Fingers tightened in his hair, and he heard Chris say his name, the sound as sweet as the taste and feel of this man in his mouth. He felt Chris buck and tightened his grip on the base of Chris' cock, pulling his mouth free and rubbing the hard length against his cheek. The fine tremors in Chris' body telegraphed themselves in his shaky breath in the quivering of the powerful thighs then passed, Vin easing his grip. He reached between his own legs, easing the pressure there, rocking back on his heels a little to pull his own cock free and looked up.

He should have been left a seared pile of ash on the ground at that look. Chris' jaw was set and hard, eyes dark enough to be black in the shadows. There was no room left to push. Vin surged forward, to take Chris in his mouth again, just once, briefly leaving him wet and trembling again and then rose up, shoving his jeans down, past his hips. This could be the only chance he got at this and he wanted it all. Chris' hands gripped his arms, holding him, something dark and dangerous there and Vin pressed close, not resisting, ignoring the near painful grip on his arms. "You still want that piece of m'ass, Chris?" he asked and didn't wait for an answer, only let his lips ghost across the hard thin line of Chris' mouth and pushed his jeans down further, shifting to the side. Chris released one arm, watching him, eyes wide again.

Vin had to brace one arm against the wall or he'd fall, closing his eyes once out of the reach of Chris' eyes. For the first time he wondered what Chris would think of this, of him, folding his arm to rest his forehead on it, spreading his legs wider, what he offered obvious. His ass was cold, his cock hot and hard and he risked a glance over his shoulder, wondering if he wouldn't see disgust there or anger. Wondering if those age old signals of male submission and domination wouldn't be misread.

He wasn't quite prepared for the soft nuzzle against his throat, Chris' body pressing close behind him, warming his skin, the hard length of him nudging between his ass. His whole body quivered when hands roamed across his belly and hip, rough and sure, barely brushed his cock and Vin groaned, felt Chris nudge him again and he relaxed a little. "Think you can find your way in the dark?" he whispered and heard the chuckle against his ear.

"Ain't never gotten lost." Chris stroked him again, and Vin bit his lip, the surge of blood in his veins once more feeling like a rush of drugs through his system: cocaine, hash, heroin -- Chris touch was all of that and far more addictive. He tensed again, fingers pressing between his ass cheeks just briefly, Chris hissing when he found easy entrance, and still hesitated.

"Just do it, Chris," Vin said, softly. "I want you to fuck me...and I am more than ready for you," he offered: assurance, reassurance.

"Vin..." Chris' voice was just a breath, uncertain but the need in that one syllable was all the reassurance Vin needed and he pushed back, rubbing his ass against Chris' cock.

Another groan and the briefest of fumblings and Vin let out the breath he'd been holding as the hard nub of Chris' cock found his ass and pushed in. Fingers dug into the thin skin over his hip bone and Vin pushed back, mouth clamped shut against the sudden pressure, the brief flare of pain and friction -- the first sound of pain and Chris would stop, Vin knew, and he didn't want Chris to stop. His body was opened, muscles pushed apart, heat flooding him again so sharp and burning that he couldn't keep the sound in. "Yesss...." was what came out as Chris pushed harder and deeper, instinct taking over from caution and uncertainty.

The pain eased, Vin sighing out in pleasure as Chris moved, bracing his forearms on the wall to give them some leverage. Chris covered him, held him, rocked into him and out, breath harsh and ragged against Vin's throat. It was like being hypnotized -- the sharp flare of pleasure when Chris hit his prostate pulling another moan from him, making his cock jerk and twitch, wanting attention of its own. Vin could do nothing, the ache growing sharper and sweeter as Chris found a rhythm and a pace that drove the breath from Vin's lungs.

He was held tighter, the thrusts harder and faster and Vin could only go with it, the unsteady, hard pace bringing him up to the edge without a hand touching him. Then Chris' hand did touch, brushing from his belly to his cock on its way to brace Chris against the wall as well, and it was enough. The low burn of sensation in his belly erupted, exploded outward as his body clenched and jerked, semen rushing hot and hard through his cock, seeking a way out. His arms gave way and he collapsed against the wall, the sudden movement driving Chris deeper and a different flood of sensation filled Vin, the low sound Chris made washing through him, liquid heat to hear the loss of control in that sound.

Neither of them moved for long moments. Vin wasn't sure he could move or wanted to. He felt warm and replete, his bones had melted along with his brain cells, intentions and concerns washed away and lost somewhere along the way. The only thing he could feel, smell, taste, or see was Chris and all of it was fuzzy and softened in the drowning sensations and endorphins in his blood and the steady patter of a light rain falling on them.

Lips pressed to his shoulder, to his neck, easing the shocking sense of loss when Chris body separated from his own. "You all right?" Chris asked him, murmured words against his skin, the concern there real.

Vin couldn't help it. He felt the laughter rise up, struggled to keep it within and lost. "Ain't never been righter," he said, still breathless and feeling high, feeling as if it would all vanish in a moment if he didn't hold onto it. He found the strength to turn, hand sliding up to catch Chris by the back of the neck to kiss him, to let him know the laughter wasn't at him or about him. The light rain had turned Chris' hair dark, his skin sheened with a combination of sweat and water. "Hell of a way to end a surveillance, Larabee. Think we could maybe make it SOP?" he asked, both to lighten the mood and at the same time, meaning it on some level. His fingers stroked along the back of Chris' neck for a moment before he let his hands slide down the muscled arms, along Chris' chest to his waist and lower, lifting the damp ends of denim and cotton up over Chris' hips. "Damn, Larabee. You're gonna cut off the circulation to some mighty vital parts if ya don't loosen these up." He got a half smile from Chris, a game one, but Larabee's eyes dropped to the pavement as he secured his jeans, and suddenly Vin needed to know if there was regret there, or something worse. He didn't dare hope for better. "I'm good, Chris ... maybe I should ask you? You all right?" He pulled his own jeans up and fastened them, shoulders to the brick ready to shrug off whatever was coming -- at least for now. But he wouldn't apologize or regret and he fixed his gaze to Chris' when the other man lifted his head.

The laughter bubbling up from deep within Chris reassured him as nothing else could. Even if there was never any more than this one wild night, it wouldn't break what had lain between them before. "Pretty damn sure of yourself, aren't you?" Chris said and met his gaze directly, Vin almost certain he still saw banked heat there. Chris looked up, face to the rain and Vin held that image in his head and stored it away. "Yeah, I'm all right, Vin. C'mon, partner. Let's get outta here before we both get pneumonia."

Blocks back and both of them soaked, walking close but only barely touching, shoulder to shoulder. The streets had cleared some with the rain, making Vin feel he'd walked out of one world and back into one entirely different and knowing there was some truth to that. He kept his silence and respected Chris' while they walked, once they got into the truck and out of the rain. Vin traded his T-shirt for the flannel he'd left there and Chris found a sweatshirt to change into, using the damp scrap of his T-shirt to dry his hair before flinging it at Vin with a grin and cranking the engine.

The shirt soaked up most of the water from Vin's hair and he pulled the tangles out with his fingers as the heater in the truck finished the job. The warmth felt good but it left him more aware of the dampness of his jeans, of aches and bruises forgotten in the blind rush of passion they'd found in the alley. His back ached where he'd hit the car and there was a sweeter ache in his ass. A glance at Chris showed the other man holding himself a little stiffly, rolling his shoulder to work out stiffness there.

Vin didn't ask again, knowing it was no more than bruising and strain, but half wishing he knew more clearly how Chris felt about what had happened, what they'd done. Any other night and he might have offered Chris a quick massage, between friends, offered the use of his shower to ease those tight muscles. He half opened his mouth to offer anyway, fighting to keep what they had and trusting Chris not to misread the offer.

Except either way, there was no way it could be misread. Offered either way would be honest. Ease of pain, stay the night -- do you want to do this again, would you? Would it mean something different? Could it?

God, how Vin wanted it too but he was a cautious man -- usually. He said nothing, settling back in the seat and trying not to be too obvious in his glances at Chris, studying the line of his body, the sharp perfection of his profile as light flickered over it from the streetlights.

Chris slowed the truck on a yellow light the last cross street before they headed back to the office so Vin could pick up his jeep. There seemed to be more traffic than usual, or the rain was snarling it. Chris glanced over at Vin and caught him looking. Chris' mouth curved into a slightly wolfish smile, humor there too, and Vin grinned at him.

"Wild night," Chris said and the laughter was back again.

Vin chuckled and leaned his head back as the traffic crawled forward. "Yeah..." he said and rolled his head to look at Chris again, grin fading to a smile, unable to keep from asking. "You sorry it's over?"

Chris didn't answer immediately and Vin felt like he was back once more at the edge of that alley, falling over and down. "Doesn't have to be," Chris said at last, low and soft, not smiling but the heat Vin thought he saw earlier was there.

The rush was back, the recklessness, and Vin met that gaze as the light turned red again and they came to a stop. "In that case," he said softly, "m apartment's thataway. He jerked his head to the right and Chris looked at him long and hard. A quick glance in the rearview and he pulled the truck out, across three lanes to cut into the turn lane.

They had to wait for traffic to move and Chris reached over, fingers digging into Vin's hair and the nape of his neck. Vin met his gaze and saw an answer there he hadn't really hoped for, and leaned across to capture Chris' mouth with his own, and moaned softly.

The promise in that kiss left him breathless.

The End