Living With It

By Tiffiny

Chris Larabee sat at a table by himself in the saloon, staring moodily down at the nearly empty glass in front of him. Without looking up, he reached out and grabbed the bottle of whiskey that was sitting next to the glass. Tilting it over said glass, he gave a muttered curse as he realized the contents were gone. He was debating the wisdom of ordering another bottle, when a shadow fell across the table. He glanced up to see Buck Wilmington staring down at him in concern.

"You ok there, pard?" Buck questioned softly.

"I'm fine, Buck." Chris replied shortly, hoping Buck would get the hint and go away.

Instead, his friend pulled up a chair and sat down across from him. "Where's Vin?" Buck asked, looking around for the tracker who was never far from Chris' side.

Chris tightened his fingers around the glass in front of him and took a deep breath before answering.

"Don't know. Probably sleepin'. Like the rest of us should be." He realized how snappish he sounded and rushed on before his friend could reply. "Look Buck, I know you mean well, but I just got some thinkin' to do and I'd appreciate bein' left alone for awhile."

"Sure Chris. I'll be around if ya need me."

The gunslinger didn't miss the flash of hurt in his friend's eyes as Buck got up and walked away, but he didn't call him back. He really did have some thinking to do, like he'd told Buck.

With a sigh, Chris leaned back in his chair. He'd lied to his friend. He knew exactly where Vin was. He wasn't sleeping. He was waiting an answer from Chris. An answer Chris wasn't sure he could give.

Feelings of shame and confusion roiled through his body as he thought about the tracker. Closing his eyes, he replayed their last conversation for the hundredth time that evening.

He'd been working on his house late that afternoon, trying to repair some of the latest damage, when he saw Vin come riding up. As the tracker dismounted, Chris' greeting froze on his lips.

"What's wrong?" he'd demanded fearfully, motioning his friend inside. Vin's face was one of grim resolve. As if he'd steeled himself to some task and was determined to see it through, come hell or high water. Chris had never seen him look so serious.

"Nothin's wrong exactly." Vin took a deep breath. "It's just, there's somethin' that needs sayin' between us."

The tracker stood silently for a minute after he finished speaking and Chris felt his heart begin beating painfully against his chest. He had a horrible feeling that he knew where this was leading and he didn't want to go there. Was afraid to go there.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything that would end this conversation before it began. But the tracker recovered his composure faster than Chris.

"I wasn't gonna say anything, at first, the quiet voice continued. Figured I had about as much of a chance as a long tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs." For a brief moment, Vin's lips quirked in a familiar smile. But it faded quickly as he continued speaking.

"But lately, I've been gettin' this feelin. Ever since that day when you thought I got caught in that rockslide. It seems like you... I thought maybe...Awww hell! I aint sayin' this right. " Vin removed his hat and ran his fingers nervously through his hair. He looked up at Chris, who stood frozen in the center of the room, and caught the gunslinger's green gaze with his own blue one.

"I need to know if you feel the same way about me as I do about you. I need to know if you want me the way I want you." The quiet intensity of the tracker's voice was too much for Chris. He tore his gaze away, striving to subdue the myriad emotions Vin's speech had stirred in him.

"Of course. I consider you my best friend, Vin." Chris deliberately pretended to misunderstand the younger man. He knew it was unworthy of him even as he spoke. And as he watched the spasm of hurt flash briefly across the tracker's face, he wished he could call back the words. Vin deserved better than that.

"That aint what I meant and you know it." Vin's quiet reply caused Chris' gut to tighten. He did know. He just didn't want to admit it. Shame flooded through him as he stood there looking at Vin. Wanting to touch him. Wanting to run his fingers through the long brown hair. Wanting to feel that smooth skin under his hands.

Abruptly Chris began to get angry. Damn Vin for makin' Chris think he was dead in that rockslide and causing emotions buried so deeply he hadn't even been aware of them, to come rushing to the surface. Damn him for having a body that haunted his dreams night and day. But most of all, damn him for having the courage to speak up and force Chris to confront all these painful emotions.

He glared at the tracker. "Dammit it, Vin! I don't wanna know. It aint right." Chris saw Vin's involuntary flinch and the anger drained out of him as abruptly as it had come.

"I'm sorry, Vin. I..." Chris trailed off as his friend shook his head, ignoring Chris' outstretched hand.

"Naw...I'm sorry. Vin's voice was barely audible. I shoulda just left town like I was plannin'. You don't need some worthless ex bounty hunter laying more burdens on ya."

The ache Chris felt as he heard the pain in Vin's voice was nothing compared to the sensation he felt when Vin mentioned leaving town. He felt like somebody had taken a two by four and knocked all the breath out of him. He couldn't stand to lose Vin. He'd barely survived losing his wife and child. He couldn't take another loss like that.

"Take care of yourself, cowboy." Vin turned to leave.

"Wait!" the deperate cry that tore from Chris' throat surprised him as well as Vin.

The tracker turned slowly around, wariness warring with renewed hope in those blue eyes.

"I...I need to think about...I don't know if I can...At least give me until morning." The blackclad man's disjointed plea caused a fleeting smile to cross the other man's lips.

"All right. I reckon it can wait til morning, the tracker agreed softly. You know where to find me."

Chris watched in silence as Vin mounted his horse and rode away.

Now the night was half over and he was no closer to an answer. He didn't even know why he'd come to the saloon except that he had thought he'd go crazy in all that silence after Vin's departure. He didn't want to talk to anyone, but he didn't want to be completely alone with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company either. He gave a short humorless chuckle. Knowing what he wanted was not the problem. He wanted Vin. Every glorious inch of him. Living with that knowledge was the problem.

He felt that he'd betrayed Sarah and Adam. Had that life been nothing but illusion? Had he been using them to hide his true nature even from himself? No. He couldn't believe that. He'd loved them both, heart and soul. He still did. But then why was he feeling this way towards another man? His best friend? Panic gripped him. Was he gonna start having these kinds of thoughts about his other friends? Glancing in their direction, he was horrified at the prospect. Vin was the only man he'd ever contemplated in that fashion. But maybe that was just because he had never allowed himself to think about it before.

He looked again at the table where Buck and JD were playing cards with Ezra. It looked like Ezra was winning, as usual. As he stared at his friends assessingly, he was mortally glad that they couldn't know what he was thinking. He didn't even want to imagine what Buck would say if he knew Chris was trying to picture the two of them together. He'd have been mighty relieved to find that Chris couldn't do it. Chris was mighty relieved himself. His gaze slid over JD and Ezra. They were even more impossible to imagine than Buck. All Josiah brought to mind was whisky and a shared fondness for questions with no answers. He considered Nathan then. As a healer, Nathan had touched every part of Chris at one time or another. But his hands had never lit a fire in Chris like the most casual of touches from Vin was capable of igniting.

It seemed that only Vin was able to call forth this response. It all came back to him. Vin Tanner. Could Chris live with that? Pushing back his chair, Chris got to his feet. He had a certain blue eyed tracker he needed to see.

THE END

Living With It (Sequel)