A sequel to Nothing More to Say
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. I'm just borrowing the boys. I'll return them when I'm through, good as new.
Comments: Thank you everyone for the kind comments on the first story. I hope this story is enjoyable as well. Feedback is appreciated, as always. Oh, and please forgive the first line. I've always wanted to work that into a story. <g>
This town wasn't big enough for the both of them. Vin Tanner watched in dismay as a tall, blackclad figure entered the saloon and moved purposefully in his direction. Damn. Chris was supposed to be at a meetin' with some local ranchers about the cattle rustlin' that had been goin' on. Not here in the saloon. And especially not lookin' so damn good. The stark black attire he affected made his pale hair seem to glow. Like a damn halo or something. Only, Chris Larabee was no angel."Vin." The gunslinger's greeting was brief. He slid into a chair, saying nothing further. He just looked at Vin with cool green eyes. Nope. Not an angel at all. More like the devil in disguise. Sent here to tempt and torture one Vin Tanner til he lost what was left of his mind.
The silence stretched on, seeming to take on a life of its own. Used to be, the two of 'em could sit all day in companionable silence. Didn't need no words to understand one another. But that was before. Before Vin had fallen into a gaggle of hell spawned cactus and made a complete fool of himself. Before his own body had betrayed him to the gunslinger. Before he'd ruined everything.
"Why aint ya at the meetin'?" Vin wished he could call back the words as he saw the older man's lips tighten in annoyance. He hadn't meant to sound quite so accusing. He was just feelin' slightly panicked at bein' alone with the gunslinger. Where the hell were the other men? Even Ezra was absent from the saloon. He was afraid Chris would try talkin' to him about what had happened on the way back from Nettie's place. The gunslinger had tried bringin' it up on several occasions in the two weeks since, but Vin had rebuffed each attempt. There was nothin' to say about it. Nothin' he wanted to hear about it. Didn't want Chris tellin' him he needed a woman. He knew what he needed. What he wanted. It was sittin' right there across from him, sippin' whiskey and makin' his life a livin' hell.
"Meeting was cancelled. Buck and JD caught the fellows doing it last night. The others are out there at the Coleman's ranch right now, getting everything straightened out." The words "You would've known that if you'd been there" hovered, unspoken, in the air between them.
"Yeah. Well, Miss Nettie's been keepin' me pretty busy." Vin had been out there almost every day for the last two weeks. He'd practically rebuilt the place from the ground up. The gunslinger hadn't offered to accompany him again, though. Not since that last time.
"You going out there today?" Chris' tone was casual, but there were traces of anger in that green gaze. Vin knew the other man had every right to be angry. He'd been avoidin' Chris like the plague. The other fellas were beginnin' to ask questions. Questions that Chris couldn't and Vin wouldn't answer. Not unless he wanted everyone to know about his pitiful emotional state. But he and Chris couldn't go on like this forever. For now though, it would have to do.
"Nope. Thought I'd ride out a ways. Town's startin' to feel a mite crowded." Vin wasn't about to tell the other man that Nettie had flat out told him to go home and not come back til he'd gotten some rest. Had told him he looked worse than a three day old corpse.
Rest? That was a laugh. If only she knew. The nights were the worst. Nothin' to do but think. Of all the things he wanted and would never have. Of pale hair and green eyes. Of the best friend he'd ever had. Of how in the blue blazes he was gonna keep from losin' his mind with thoughts like these.
"That decision wouldn't have anything to do with Nettie telling you not to come back until you quit looking half dead, would it?"
Dammit! Wasn't he entitled to at least some shred of dignity? One last little bit of privacy? Hadn't he exposed enough of himself already? In more ways than one. Vin felt the anger, that seemed to be constantly lurking just under the surface these days, erupt into a volcano of words.
"You checkin' up on me now, Chris? I aint your concern! Just leave me the hell alone!" Vin jumped to his feet as he spoke. Grabbing his hat off the table, he stalked out the door, ignoring the look of surprise on JD's face as he stormed past. The young sheriff had entered the saloon just as Vin was busy makin' a fool out of himself, yet again, because of Chris Larabee.
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The gunslinger sat there for a moment, still slightly stunned at the depths of his friend's fury. He'd known Vin was avoiding him. Had figured it was because the tracker was still embarassed over his body's reaction to Chris' touch. The older man had tried to broach the subject several times these past few weeks. To reassure his friend that the incident hadn't bothered Chris at all. /But that's not exactly true now, is it?/ The traitorous voice whispered in his mind. He'd felt oddly pleased about the tracker's reaction. And that bothered him a little. He'd tried to dismiss it as a result of Vin's being without a woman. But if Chris was honest with himself, that idea was what bothered him most. He wanted Vin's reaction to have been caused by him. Because the tracker had been aroused by his touch. But how did you tell your best friend a thing like that? No. That kind of thinking was just asking for trouble.
With a sigh, Chris wondered whether he should go after the tracker or give him some time to cool off. But, dammit! He'd given the other man time enough already. It had been two weeks and things had gone from bad to worse between them. it was time to clear the air once and for all. Chris was determined to find out the reason behind Vin's actions. If the tracker thought there was nothing more to say, then he was in for a rude awakening. He'd talk. Or else.
+ + + + + + +
Well, he'd done it again, Vin thought in disgust. Blown a minor incident into epic proportions. Acted like a bear with a sore paw. He needed to get hold of himself. Ya could only push Chris Larabee so far, and then he'd come lookin' for answers. Or blood. Vin was morbidly certain that if Chris asked, he'd wind up spillin' his guts, figuratively, if not literally. And he'd rather be staked out over an anthill.
He turned at the sound of hoofbeats. Damn. No convenient anthill in sight neither. Well, unless he wanted to keep ridin' and never look back, he'd have to face Chris sooner or later. Might as well get it over with now. He sighed heavily and turned his horse around, intending to wait there for the gunslinger. But his horse had different ideas. His usual mount had a strained tendon, so Vin had been ridin' one of Nettie's half broke mustangs the last few days. This wouldn't normally be a problem, but in his distracted state, the tracker was easy prey for a wily equine brain.
/This can't be happenin' again/, he thought as he and his horse parted company. But it did happen. Hittin' the ground convinced him of that. He sat up, wincing. At least this time there were no cactus to contend with. He struggled to his feet, cursing, as Chris drew his mount to a stop and swung gracefully out of the saddle.
"Better let me take a look at that." The gunslinger's lips were twitching in what could be either amusement, or anger. Vin didn't know or care which one it was. He just knew that there was no way he could bear for Chris to lay hands on him. He'd already had a bellyful of that kind of pain. He didn't need no more. But lord, how he wanted it.
"No." Vin's tone was dangerous. It might've caused another man to think twice, but Chris Larabee was made of sterner stuff than that. Ignoring Vin's protests, he knelt down and began probing gently at the tracker's rapidly swelling ankle.
"I said no, dammit! I don't need your help. Don't want your help!" Vin jerked his leg away and began hobbling towards his horse.
"Get back here, Vin." Chris barked angrily.
When Vin didn't reply, but merely kept walking, Chris Larabee's frustration boiled over. Slinging the tracker over his shoulder, he carried the struggling, cursing young man over to a clear spot under one of the sparse trees and dumped him unceremoniously on the ground. Then, before Vin could react to that, Chris was straddling him, pinning his shoulders to the ground. Vin abruptly stopped his struggles. Oh god. This felt far too good. Far too right.
"Ok. You don't want my help. What the hell do you want?" Chris growled, staring down at Vin intently.
The tracker looked away stubbornly. He wasn't gonna make this easy for the gunslinger.
"I asked you a question." Chris shifted position slightly and Vin could feel his erection spring to life. He knew the gunslinger felt it as well, because Chris froze for a moment, green eyes widening slightly.
"What do you want, Vin?" The other man's voice had become soft, almost gentle.
"Nothin' ya can give me." Vin muttered, still refusing to look at the gunslinger. If Chris wanted it to play out this way, he'd go along. The end result would be the same. The loss of everything that mattered.
"You can do better than that." Chris' voice had dropped til it was barely a whisper.
"There aint nothin' to say." Vin didn't know why the other man was so bent on humiliatin' him. Chris was gonna make him say the words. And Vin knew he would. But he was gonna hold out as long as he could. A man had to have some pride. Although, it was damn little where Chris was concerned.
"Oh, I think there's something to be said. Now are you going to do it willingly, or am I going to have to drag it out of you?" The tone was teasing and the gunslinger deliberately shifted position as he spoke. Vin let out a groan. As easy as that, Chris had won.
"You bastard." Vin gasped. "Ya want to hear about how the biggest fool in the territory spends all his nights and half his days thinkin' about his best friend? About touchin' him. About havin' him touch me? And then ya want to hear about the part where his friend looks at him in disgust and..."
"Vin? You talk too much." Chris Larabee said, just before claiming the tracker's lips in a kiss that said it all. Sometimes actions spoke louder than words.
The End
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