God, it's hot in here. And crowded. Vin Tanner wondered why he'd never
noticed how small this room was before. It seemed hardly big enough for
one person, let alone two. He listened to the soft voice reading over his
shoulder. Now he couldn't breathe. Squirming desperately in the hard, unforgiving
chair, Vin felt warm breath caress the back of his neck. He couldn't stand
much more of this. He needed to get out of this room. Away from that voice.
He needed some air. He...
He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Even through his layers of clothing, Vin could feel the heat of that slight
touch all the way down to his toes.
"Vin? Is something wrong? You're wriggling worse than a fish on a hook."
The voice was carefully neutral, but Vin could hear the mingled amusement
and exasperation underlying it.
"Nothin's wrong. I'm just a little hot is all." Vin stared fixedly at
the desk in front of him as he spoke. He was afraid of what the blonde
standing just behind him might see on his face if he turned around.
"It ain't that hot in here, Vin. Take the coat off and you should be
fine."
A reasonable suggestion, except for one thing. Vin thought with grim
amusement. If I take off this coat, there won't be anything hidin' this
embarassin', and damn inconvenient, erection I got. How in the hell would
I explain *that* to Chris?
He risked a glance back and found the blonde staring down at him with
a thoughtful frown. The hand was still in place, fingers unconsciously
kneading his shoulder as their owner stood there, entirely unaware of the
effect it was having on Vin. His pants were starting to feel painfully
tight in a certain area and if he didn't do somethin' real quick, he was
goin' to lose all semblance of control and *really* embarass himself.
"Uh...maybe some water would help?" Vin croaked desperately.
The fingers stilled and then the hand was removed altogether. Vin heaved
a sigh of relief. Leaning back in his chair, he tried to relax. Only 7
more days of this, Tanner he told himself. You're halfway there. It ain't
like you're gettin' shot at or havin' to track some outlaw across the hot,
barren desert. It's just readin'. A little poetry won't hurt ya none.
He'd had this same talk with himself every day for the last week. It never
did any good. Because to Vin Tanner, sittin' in this room and listenin'
to that voice read him poetry was worse torture than bein' staked out over
an anthill, worse than bein' shot and definitely worse than trackin' some
outlaw.
"Here you go." A cup of water was offered along with the words and Vin
took it gratefully. He watched warily as his companion took a seat on the
edge of the bed a few feet away.
"Are you sure you're ok with this, Vin? I know you agreed to continue
your reading lessons with me while Mary's visiting her in-laws, but you
seem awful uncomfortable. You don't need to feel ashamed. You've been doing
fine. I know I'm not the teacher Mary is, but it appears to me you've learned
quite a bit this last week."
With this uncharacteristically long speech out of the way, Chris Larabee
propped his feet up on a footstool near the bed and moved back til he was
able to lean against the wall.
Staring at those long legs stretched out just a few feet from him, Vin
swallowed hard. He'd learned a lot this past week. That was for *damn*
sure. He'd learned that long legs in tight black denim were about to drive
him wild with desire. He'd learned that he wanted his best friend in ways
he'd never imagined. He'd learned exactly why poetry was called the language
of love. Although, hearin' Chris wrap that soft, smooth voice of his around
the words had Vin thinkin' less of love and more of..., well anyway, he
reckoned that he ought to have known better. The people who said book learnin'
brought a man nothin' but trouble sure knew what they were talkin' about.
Vin sat there, lost in thought, staring at Chris' denim clad legs, until
a soft sound from his friend made him realize that the blonde gunslinger
was still waiting for him to say something.
"No. I appreciate what you're doin'. Takin' the time to help me and
all. It's just that the poetry... It's...I would prefer..." Vin trailed
off, unable to think of a way to explain his sudden aversion to poetry.
"I thought you liked poetry, Vin." Chris was eyeing him strangely.
"I do. It's just...Aww hell. Never mind." Vin gave up any attempt at
explanation. He'd just have to endure the next seven days somehow. Then
Mary would be back to take over his lessons and maybe things could go back
to normal. He'd be able to look at his best friend without tryin' to imagine
what that icy gaze would look like filled with passion instead of anger.
Or what the smooth skin on Chris' back felt like when you touched it. Or
what that full lower lip would feel like if it touched *him*. Maybe things
would go back to normal. But he doubted it.
"I've got some things need takin' care of. You mind if we finish the
rest tomorrow?" Vin jumped to his feet as he spoke and began inching nervously
towards the door leading out of Chris' room. He hoped Chris wouldn't ask
him any questions, because he didn't really have anything that needed doin'
and he knew he wouldn't be able to make up a convincing story right now.
His thoughts were too muddled with the feelings he was tryin' so hard to
escape.
"Sure, Vin. See you later at the saloon, maybe."
"Yeah. Maybe." Vin agreed hurriedly as he fled the room.
Chris Larabee watched the normally unflappable tracker run out the door
as if all the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels. A wide grin spread
across his face, softening the severe features and turning them into a
breathtaking sight.
I never knew poetry could be such fun. It sure wasn't like this in
school.Chris knew he was being cruel, but he couldn't help himself. Watching
Vin squirm around like his pants were on fire was too much fun. Besides,
he figured the tracker was getting off easy. Chris had suffered months
of agony when he'd started having feelings towards Vin. Feelings that had
formerly only been directed towards women. He'd been certain that there
was no possibility Vin would ever return those kinds of feelings. It wasn't
until they'd started reading the book of poetry Mary had left for the lessons
that Chris had begun to hope. And then to be sure. He had Vin Tanner right
where he wanted him. Another week of poetry wouldn't kill the ex-bounty
hunter. Smiling wickedly, Chris began flipping through the book, planning
tomorrow's lesson.
This is the last day. A flood of pain accompanied that thought. Despite
the anguish and discomfort, this time with Chris had become the highlight
of his day. The highlight of his life, if you wanted to get down to the
nitty gritty. He only wished Chris felt the same way. Glancing at his companion,
Vin saw that Chris looked as cool and collected as always Completely in
control. Unlike a certain tracker who was *this close* to grabbing his
friend and...
And ruinin' the best thing in my life. Vin concluded glumly. He sighed
and Chris looked up from the book he was reading.
"We're almost done, Vin. There's just one more I think you should read.
Actually, I'll read it first and then you can try."
Vin nodded in agreement, hoping it was a long poem. A *really* long
poem.
"Close your eyes." ordered the gunslinger.
"It'll help you concentrate." added Chris, forestalling Vin's question.
Vin shut his eyes. If he concentrated any harder on Chris, he'd explode,
Vin thought wryly.
"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways."
Vin felt the words wash over him. He was so carried away by the hypnotic
sound of that silky voice that the accompanying touch almost failed to
register. *Almost.* His eyes flew open and he stared wildly into Chris'
face which was barely an inch away from his own. Chris brushed his lips
gently across Vin's mouth once again. Then he sat back and grinned at the
stunned and sputtering tracker.
"You knew! The whole time! You read that poetry on purpose! You..."
Vin sputtered to a halt as words failed him momentarily.
Before Vin had a chance to get started again, Chris leaned forward with
a devilish gleam in his eye.
"You ever hear of something called poetry in motion?" he asked innocently.
As Vin shook his head, Chris reached out and pulled him close. "Let
me show you how it works."
Turned out, Chris was a much better poetry teacher than anyone would've
given him credit for.
The End
