WHERE  HEROES  LIE by C.V. Puerro
Be noble! and the nobleness that lies In other men, sleeping but never dead, Will rise in majesty to meet thine own. Sonnet iv - James Russell Lowell. 1819-1891.

It had been a long, hard ride and it was good to be back in town, Vin Tanner thought to himself as he brushed down his gelding. He remembered having to tend the horses when he was a boy and hating it, but now he found it rather soothing after days on the trail, and he suspected that the old feller liked it as well. Vin ducked under the horse's head, then gave him an affectionate pat on his white blaze before moving his mane aside to brush down his muscular neck where the dark hair was stiff with frothy sweat.

Vin peered over his horse's shoulder when the barn door opened, then closed with a crash. It was the kid, JD — Sheriff Dunne, though no one had yet paid that title much mind. JD crossed to the tack shelves, fists and shoulders clenched tight. He pulled down his saddle and bridle, and then moved towards the stall where his horse was boarded. Halfway there, his foot connected with a wayward bucket and JD fell hard to the stable floor.

"Gawd dammit!" he blared before picking up the offending bucket and heaving it into the nearest wall, causing the horse in the stall on the other side to whinny and skitter at the sudden noise.

Vin stepped out of his own horse's stall and stared at JD for a moment. The kid looked like a fish out of water sprawled on the hay-covered floor wearing his ever-present candy-assed suit and stupid derby-hat. Bat Masterson or no Bat Masterson, JD would never fit in around here dressed like that. A good buckskin coat and a pair of chaps would do wonders for the kid's image, Vin thought. Not that Vin cared what other people thought, but he knew that JD most certainly did. Geez, even a bandanna around his neck would help!

"Ya planned on spookin' the horses when ya came in here?" Vin finally asked, as he ran his fingers through his light-brown hair before sliding his hat on.

The boy narrowed his eyes at the man, staring him down, though Vin hardly paid the glare any mind. JD then sighed as he glanced over at the horse he'd startled. "Sorry," he quietly apologized to the young gelding.

Vin grabbed his saddlebags off the floor, slinging them over one shoulder, before coming over to where the kid was still sitting. "What's wrong?"

The greenhorn merely shook his head.

Ya wouldn't understand, Vin figured JD was thinking. "Nobody takin' ya seriously, kid?" he asked.

JD shook his head again, though not as vigorously, then shrugged.

Getting closer, Vin thought, but then asked aloud, "Women ain't takin' ya seriously?"

No response. Bingo!

"Aw, it ain't that bad, kid." A small, tired smile barely broke over Vin's lips. "They're only trouble once ya git tangled up with 'em anyway. Take it from an old hand like me. Never come across one that was really worth it in the end."

"Sure. That's easy for you to say," JD finally replied, scowling up at Vin. "You've been there. You've done that."

The older man had a hard time suppressing his laughter. Vin had no idea how young the kid was — either much younger than his years or simply much younger than he looked — but Vin knew he had at least a half-decade on JD and Youth always tried to give Experience a run for its money.

"Come on, kid. I'll buy ya a drink while ya spill yer guts. It'll make ya feel better." He held his hand out to JD, who made no move to rise. "Come on," Vin coaxed.

Finally, the kid clasped his friend's hand and allowed himself to be hoisted back to his feet. "Thanks, Vin. I guess I can always take that ride later ... if yer wrong and talkin' doesn't help."

"Yeah, if I'm wrong," the older man said, smiling to himself again, knowing he wasn't. Vin reached down, scooping up the lost saddle as JD dug through the hay for the tossed bridle. Once retrieved, the items were returned to the tack area before the pair headed out.

As they entered the saloon, Vin noticed the local girls turning away, suppressing giggles. Then he noticed JD. Uncharacteristically, the kid was staring at nothing but his own shoes, so hard, in fact, that Vin wondered if JD might just keep on walking until he ran smack into the bar. Vin was beginning to feel just a tad bit sorry for the boy. JD did try, so very hard. Of course, that was the problem, but you still hated to fault him for it.

Somehow, JD managed to stop before the edge of the bar broke a rib. He looked up and caught the bartender's eye. A few moments later, the paunchy, ginger-haired man came over, looking to Vin instead of JD.

"Two beers," JD said, suddenly insisting on being noticed.

But Vin shook his head, quietly changing the request. "Whiskey."

The ginger-haired bartender nodded to the older man, then pulled two shot glasses and a half-empty bottle from behind the bar. He poured the boys a couple of fingers of the amber liquid, but, before he could return the alcohol to its place on the shelf, Vin said, "Leave the bottle." Then asked, "How much fer a room?"

"Same as always, unless you'll be wantin' two girls instead of just the one," the bartender almost snickered.

Vin shook his head slightly. "Just a room ... and a bath. No girls."

"Didn't think so," the paunchy man muttered with a sly glance in JD's direction, though, luckily, the kid did not seem to notice. Then the bartender answered the previous question. "Three bucks. You be wantin' that room now?"

Vin raised an eyebrow at the price, three dollars and no girl? Baths were an expensive commodity when you didn't want to enjoy them communally at the local bathhouse. With an inaudible sigh, the one-time bounty hunter nodded, accepting the price.

"I'll have the hot water sent up," the bartender informed him. "It'll be a few minutes."

Vin nodded again as he took a sip from his shot glass.

"I guess I'll be takin' that ride after all," JD mumbled dejectedly, half to himself and half to his friend, before slamming back the entire contents of his own glass, then grimacing as he suppressed a cough.

Vin shook his head. "Just didn't think ya'd feel very comfortable spillin' yer guts down here," he said softly, with a slight glance over at the saloon girls who were carefully avoiding both JD and himself at the moment. "Okay?"

JD nodded as he poured himself another two fingers of whiskey, this time only gulping half the volume. He'd be ready for another in a few minutes, and maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing, Vin thought to himself. For once, it just might help the kid out. Vin had seen the kid plastered once before — after JD's first shoot-out at the Seminole village — but now he wondered if this was becoming a habit. It was bad enough that the town thought him too young and inexperienced to be sheriff, but being a drunken young-and-inexperienced-sheriff would only be asking for trouble. But that was a problem for another time. Tonight Vin would let him get pissed, if he wanted.

When the bartender finally brought the room key, Vin put the cork back in the bottle of alcohol before grabbing it and heading for the stairs. Apparently lost in thought, it took JD a moment to realize that his partner had gone, then another moment to gulp the last dregs from his glass before he followed up the staircase.

The sparse room contained a large, wrought-iron bed, a chair, a small bureau topped with a washbasin and jug, and a claw-foot tub. Vin crossed to the only window to look out over the backfield, watching the last rays of the sun fade behind the distant trees, before he pulled the shade down. The room was bathed in the dim, soft glow of a single oil-lamp ensconced on the wall beside the door; Vin did not even think to increase the length of the taper, as he knew talking about these things was often easier in low light.

"So, what happened?" Vin asked as he dropped his saddlebags to the floor, tossed his hat over the post of the chair, and then removed his gun belt, slinging it over the other post.

JD shrugged again, letting his coat drop to the floor, followed by his hat and holsters. Then he moved to the bed, falling, face up, across the width of the feather mattress; he landed with his legs, bent at the knees, hanging over the side — his feet not even touching the floor — and his head barely reaching the far edge.

The older man opened the bottle of whiskey, took a small swig, then re-corked it and tossed it onto the bed next to the kid. JD turned his head to stare at the bottle for just a moment before he sat up. With one swift, fluid motion, the kid removed the cork and brought the bottle to his lips, gulping the liquid.

Vin sat on the chair and pulled his dusty boots off, and then his grimy socks. He would let the kid — who seemed pretty intent on just drinking right at the moment — talk when he was ready. There was something really up with JD, Vin could tell. He was being far too quiet, too down. Something had happened, and it wasn't good. The loner didn't quite know why he cared ... but the fact of the matter was, JD and the others had all grown on Vin, more than he'd realized before this. They were all good men who did what they could to help and protect those in need — not such a common commodity in the often-unforgiving western territories.

The older man peeled off his deerskin jacket, and then dropped his suspenders before stripping off his shirt, which he threw into a pile next to the chair. Then off came the cream-colored pants, now brown from all the road dirt worn into them. Had Vin been thinking, he would have grabbed some clean clothes from his wagon before stopping at the saloon, but all he had in his saddlebags was a spare shirt. Oh, well — helping others usually came with some price.

JD, bottle in hand and no longer to his lips, finally looked up at his companion. His hazel eyes grew wide at the sight of the taller man standing casually in front of him, clad only in dingy long johns. JD took another hard pull from the bottle, his eyes never leaving Vin, who smiled lazily for a moment before reaching out to retrieve the whiskey.

He held the bottle up to the dim light flickering on the far wall, the amber liquid filled only a third of the bottle now. Vin took a slow sip, then a larger swallow before handing it back to JD, who still had not stopped staring, mouth almost agape. Vin then untied the brown bandanna at his neck, tossing it onto the bed next to the kid, before he slowly undid each of the eight, small buttons down the narrow, front placket of his underwear. He shrugged his left shoulder free of the cloth, then his right, before finally drawing his arms out of the sleeves.

With the fabric bunched loosely at his waist, barely supported by his slender hips, Vin looked back at JD. The kid continued to stare, a small drop of alcohol collecting at the corner of his thin lips. Vin lifted his light eyebrows, wondering what the boy's problem could possibly be. Was it time to prompt him again?

No, not just yet.

Vin smiled, causing JD to swallow hard before raising the bottle to his moist lips again. The alcohol was now nearly half gone. The kid could hold his liquor, which was something to be said in his favor. Vin turned his back, pushed the long johns down over his hips, down his legs, to the floor, then stepped out of them. Another step brought him to the edge of the steaming tub-of-water, and a final step, up over the high rim, left him standing calf deep in the soothingly hot, clear liquid. He closed his brilliant blue eyes as his skin became accustomed to the elevated temperature of the water, then, with each hand on an opposite rim, Vin slowly lowered himself into the tub, pausing only for a moment when the tender skin of his behind first came in contact with the hot water.

He let out a deep sigh as the warmth infused his road-weary muscles and bones. With eyes still closed, Vin sank down until his stubbled chin met the water and his knees were forced up above the surface. He groaned again in sheer pleasure before opening his eyes and glancing over at JD, finally prompting him: "So?"

It took a moment for JD's plain, guileless expression to change to confusedly furrowed brows. "Huh?" he finally managed.

"What happened?" The patience in the older man's voice was obvious, almost unintentional.

"Oh." JD's head sunk, just low enough for him to notice the bottle of whiskey he held in his hand that lay dangling, forgotten, between his legs. He took another drink, this one slow and not quite as full as the others had been, before he answered with a shrug.

This was getting old, Vin thought. Real fast. "Okay, so don't tell me. But, could ya at least hand me that bar of soap and that rag?" Vin pointed to the items that lay next to the basin on the bureau against the far wall. JD nodded, then slowly slid from the bed to retrieve the two bathing implements his friend had requested. "Thanks," Vin said as he took the articles, inadvertently wetting JD's not-yet-callused hands in the process.

The younger man then sank to the floor, turned, and leaned his back against the outside wall of the tub. JD wiped his now-wet hands over his nose and mouth — sucking in a bit of air between his fingers — then moved them across his cheeks, before allowing them to drop back down, limp, into his lap.

"She led me on." That was all JD said. If he was waiting for some comment from Vin, he wouldn't be getting one. Don't interrupt a man when he's spilling his guts, that was rule number two. Rule number one being get him drunk first. Finally, as Vin knew he would, the dark-haired, young man continued, "Then she dumped me. Right there in the middle of town. She said I ... I couldn't satisfy a goat if I had a handful of barley." The words almost caught in the kid's throat and it tore at Vin's heart. Still, he did not understand what the problem was. JD had been dished out worse and by better people. What made this one time so different? Vin would have to wait to find out.

"They laughed at me — everyone there on the street. No one's ever laughed at me before."

Yeah, they have, Vin thought sadly. Ya just never noticed.

"And she laughed hardest of all. But all I could do was stand there." JD ran his hands up to his ears, as if he could still hear the taunting voices, as if he could possibly block out the sound which was now only in his head. He sighed again, hard, and dropped his hands in frustration. "I really ... liked her, ya know? I thought she was different." The young man's voice grew dreamy as he continued, "She was new in town, with pretty clothes like I used ta see women wear when I lived back East, and she smelled of lilacs...." Then the kid fell silent again.

The older man glanced at the top of JD's black hair as he lathered the soap against the rough hand-cloth, then began scrubbing his face, running his soapy fingers over the bristly growth along his jaw and deciding that he would treat himself to a shave tonight as well.

"Do they all look at me that way, Vin? Like she did? I couldn't bring myself to look at those ladies when we were downstairs. I never noticed before.... I ... guess I never wanted to." There was a definite edge to the young man's voice. A pain, a sorrow, a resentment. Maybe it was the liquor talking, Vin thought, but he doubted it. The kid was finally wising up, the hard way.

Suddenly, JD swung his arm, slamming his fist back against the wall of the tub, startling Vin into dropping the soap. Vin had to fish through the now soap-and-grime murked water, groping along the smooth bottom before he finally came across the slippery bar. Once retrieved, he continued with his thorough washing, moving on to his shoulders and chest — kneading the muscles. He could still feel the tension from his long ride that day; one of those girls downstairs would know exactly what to do to ease away the knots. He glanced over at JD again, as the inkling of an ideal began to form in his head. Maybe there was a way he could help the kid, since talking didn't appear to be helping all that much.

"Make yerself useful," Vin said, dropping the dripping-wet cloth onto the young man's head.

"Hey!" the kid protested, yanking the offending towel away as he spun up onto his knees to face Vin. He glared at his assailant, and then threw the soapy cloth down hard into the water, splashing both Vin and himself in the process.

Vin then watched as the scowl faded from JD's face and his dark eyes became clouded. The alcohol — all that whiskey — was just starting to take effect. Vin retrieved the towel, then held it up to JD, smiling in request: "Scrub my back?"

"Why sshould I?" His speech was barely slurred even now.

"'Cuz women kin smell inexperience ... like a cougar kin smell fear. Scrub."

JD tried to glare again, but quickly gave up and grabbed the wet cloth from Vin. Still on his knees, the young man scooted around the tub. Vin leaned forward, his elbows crossed over his knees for support, and waited. JD dipped the towel into the pool of water between Vin's back and the tub wall, then dragged it slowly out, up along the older man's grime-streaked back. The rivulets of warm water that began to run down Vin's spine accompanied an equal amount of soothing tingles. The young man then applied the cloth to Vin's shoulders, his touch was hesitant at first, but soon he began scrubbing away quite vigorously, probably unaware that he was easing Vin's tightened muscles in the process. Vin stretched slightly, arching his back against JD's sweeping motions. It felt so good. And the tracker allowed his head to lull slightly to the side, as he closed his eyes.

But soon, the young man was scrubbing harder, faster, and Vin guessed that anger was rising up inside him again. It felt as if JD was intent on rubbing the skin clean off his back. The older man bit his lip against the stinging, scraping pain, but a low gasp still managed to escape.

Instantly, JD stopped scrubbing.

Vin took a deep breath before breaking the silence that hung in the air like the steam rising off the water in the tub. "Good. That's yer first lesson. Mind how the other person reacts. Even if yer payin' a girl, yer not gonna have any fun if she's havin' a lousy time. Git it?"

There was no reply, but Vin was sure JD had understood as soon as he felt the cloth on his back again, more gentle this time. The younger man now moved the towel slowly across Vin's sinewy shoulders, letting the water trickle over the top and down his chest, then down his left arm, slipping over the well-defined biceps, then back up, across, and down his right arm, repeating the motion over the muscles there, lingering for only a brief moment longer. Back up to the shoulders, then lightly all the way down his spine. Vin heard the splashing, and felt the glancing touch of both cotton and skin against his butt, as the towel was swirled around in the water.

Up came the towel again, but this time JD plied it against Vin's ribs, starting at the middle of his back and working out to the one side and around to the front, where Vin felt knuckles rub against the light-brown hairs which covered his chest before the direction was changed and JD pulled the towel back around, across his spine, then over to the other side, but not managing to reach quite as far around. Still, Vin was enjoying this. All those spots which were so difficult to reach ... it was rare that he ever had anyone to reach them for him.

The cloth was removed for a moment, leaving a chilled spot in its absence as a small draft snuck across the room, but then the towel was replaced and Vin could tell by the pressure of it against his skin that JD had changed hands. The young man began moving the cloth over Vin's skin again, following the ribs just around his side before dropping down to his stomach, down beneath the surface of the warm bath-water.

With his forehead resting again on the arms crossed over his knees, Vin peered down into the water to watch as JD swirled the towel around. The movements were less fluid than they had felt previously, and Vin suspected the alcohol was really beginning to wear on the young man. Still, he watched the towel being pulled through the water all the way over until it touched the wall. Then, swooping back around, JD pulled the cloth in the opposite direction, until the arc of his arm brought the towel and his hand bumping into Vin's stomach, causing the sudden release of the cloth, which slowly sank, coming to rest like a hood over Vin's lap.

Neither man moved — Vin not daring to and JD, well, just not. But then the older man heard the younger's shoes scrape against the rug and felt JD's other hand suddenly flat against his back. Another scuff of the shoes, then Vin felt the young man lean his cheek against his shoulder. JD's straight hairs almost tickling Vin's still-damp skin, as the kid's arm reached further around, his hand groping for the lost towel. Just as the young man wrapped his fingers around the cloth and that which it covered, Vin's own hand came protectively around JD's.

The older man straightened up as he gently loosened and removed JD's grip, then felt the younger man's cheek and hand slide easily down his own back until they were gone. A few moments later, Vin glanced over his shoulder and found JD resting his head on one arm on the rim of the tub; the other arm — the one whose hand he had held — was still outstretched, fingertips absently caressing the surface of the water.

Vin smiled gently as he turned back, retrieving the soap from the bottom of the tub again and beginning to scrub his thin, yet muscled, legs. The bar lathered easily against the light-brown hair as he took his time over every inch of skin, beginning with the tops of his thighs and working down.

"Vin?"

"Hmmm?"

"Women. Do they...."

Vin waited for him to continue, but the kid did not. If not for the gentle splashing of the water behind him, Vin would have thought JD had fallen asleep. After a few minutes, he prompted his young friend: "Do they what?"

But still there was no response, except for the cessation of the sound of the gentle splashing, followed by a very audible sigh, then a large thud. Vin looked over the side of the tub to find JD lying on the floor — flat on his back — and staring absently up at the ceiling.

"Kid, it's no big deal," Vin offered.

JD glanced towards the tub, but did not meet the eyes of the older man. He reached out along the carpet and a moment later dragged the mostly-empty bottle of whiskey to his side, clutching it against himself like a child would a favorite toy.

Vin turned away, feeling almost like he was intruding upon JD's private thoughts. He returned to scrubbing his legs, more diligently this time, working his way efficiently down to his feet, which he cleaned well, from heel to toes. Then, once that task was finished, Vin rinsed the towel out in the water before re-lathering it and washing down his arms, his stomach, and finally the saddle-sore muscles of his inner-thighs. He rubbed the cloth into the thick fibers, while kneading deeper with the tips of his fingers.

As he leaned back in the tub, eyes closed with the pleasure of the easing soreness, Vin allowed his thoughts to wander back to the young man lying nearby on the floor. He was going to do this, he realized. And he was going to do it for JD. He saw it every day in the kid — how the west was changing him, maturing him. And no matter how scared JD got, he never backed down. Vin could admire that; he remembered when he had been like that. And Vin knew that nothing but experience, some guidance, and a cool head had kept him alive thus far.

And he knew the kid was headstrong — a good way to get yourself killed way out here in the wilds, but, then, that was the stuff of fireside tales, wasn't it? How many folk-heroes could boast of a perfect life, loved and admired by all? None Vin could think of. No, the men he knew who turned out to be these heroes were often arrogant bastards — or simply crazy — in real life, with few friends.

But JD had potential. The drive to fight for what he believed was right and true. That was the stuff of fiction, of myths and legends, as well, but here he was, lying prostrate on the floor with a bottle of whiskey as his only comfort, all because of some woman, who Vin doubted was even worth a second thought. Potential being shot to hell, and what sort of a man would Vin be if he just sat there and let it happen?

"JD?" Vin asked, glancing over at the kid just long enough to check for movement. "JD!"

"What?" the kid mumbled, still staring blankly off into the ether.

"Git me a towel?"

JD remained where he was, but a closer inspection by Vin showed that the kid's eyes had cleared and it was obvious he was thinking about the older man's request. Finally, JD began to climb back onto his feet. Vin then reached over the opposite edge of the tub and pulled closer the bucket that had been left there. Then he stood, letting the soapy water run down his lean frame, before stooping to pick up the bucket, which he lifted high, dumping the cool contents over his head to rinse away the last remnants of the trail-grime and soap suds. He dropped the bucket back to the floor, then ran his hands over his head, squeezing the excess moisture from his water-darkened hair.

Vin then stretched his arms high, yawning, before turning to face JD, who stood several feet back from the tub, his arm fully extended, with the towel dangling from its edge caught between the kid's firm fingers. JD looked like he wanted to turn away, from either a respect for Vin's privacy or from sheer embarrassment. But, he didn't do either and Vin actually caught JD's side-long stare and held it as he took the towel from the young man.

Vin then dropped his gaze as he concentrated on drying himself off, beginning with a quick rub through his hair, then continuing with his arms, shoulders, and chest. He stepped from the tub — causing JD to shuffle awkwardly back — before drying his legs, first propping one foot upon the rim of the tub, then the other. Task completed, Vin wrapped the towel about his waist, tucking the free end in to secure it. He then turned again to face JD, who was still staring, eyes wide.

Vin very slowly moved towards him, causing the kid to take another wobbly step back, bringing him in contact with the edge of the bed.

"Women kin smell fear, too, JD," he said quietly as he reached out to the young man — who was then, with a slight upward tilt of his chin, standing his ground — and carefully touched the brown fabric of JD's vest. Vin ran his fingers slowly over the polished-wood buttons, upwards until he reached the top edge.

"I've seen ya take the lead before, in a fight. It's in ya, kid." Vin twisted the top button on the young man's vest, until it slid from the hole. "It should be no different with a woman. They don't wanna be in charge, JD." The second button was turned until it came free. "Decide where ya wanna go — whether it's on a trail or in a bed — and they will follow." He glanced up from the vest to find JD's eyes hard upon him; deep down, Vin thought he saw a tinge of fear and apprehension, but he doubted anyone else would have noticed. This was a good sign.

Vin eased another button from its hole, and then slipped his hand between the layers of fabric. He felt the muscles of JD's chest tense beneath the cotton shirt, but he could detect no other reaction. Vin then pulled his long fingers free to undo another button.

JD's hand came up to stop him. "Vin. I'm not sure 'bout this...."

The older man nodded slightly to let JD know that he respected his decision to stop now, before things went too far. Vin walked away to the chair, bending over to pick up his discarded saddlebags from the floor. He then rummaged inside for his spare shirt.

"Just thought I could help. No one oughta be laughing at ya." Vin heard the bottle of whiskey being opened again, followed by the sound of several deep swallows. Bad idea, or bad approach? Vin wasn't sure, but it didn't matter anymore. He sighed to himself as he unfolded the blue shirt, but before he could pull a sleeve on, Vin felt a cool hand on his back.

"Thanks," JD said, in a tone more pensive than he had ever heard from the kid before. Then the hand was gone, and Vin waited patiently for the sound of the door opening and closing. But the sound never came.

Finally, he turned and found JD standing beside the bed again, the kid's one hand fidgeting with the bottom hem of his shirt, which now hung loose over his shoulders, unbuttoned; the vest Vin had given so much attention to lay discarded on the mattress next to the his cast-off bandanna.

"How much have ya learned since ya came west, JD?" he asked, almost casually.

The young man looked over at Vin with furrowed brows. He shrugged. "A lot, I guess. I ... I'd never killed nobody before. And I'd never been shot at." The small gasp of a frustrated laugh escaped JD's lips.

"So, how'd ya git up the guts ta take on the job of sheriff?" Vin really did want to know. It was a big job even for an experienced man, and they both knew how green JD was the day he hopped off that stagecoach, his head full of nothing but the glories and romance of the Untamed West.

"They needed someone." His answer was so simple, and Vin then knew that JD had never thought any more on the matter. "You were around; you saw what'd been happenin'. I just couldn't stand by and let the town go unprotected."

Not a single thought about the consequences, the dangers. "Kid, ya coulda been killed. Ya still might be."

JD dropped his eyes to the floor, for just a moment, before looking up again. His dark eyes were focused, clear and serious. "It's worth the risk."

Vin smiled to himself, knowing that, if he lived, someday this kid would make one hell of a hero. "So's this, JD."

The young man nodded slowly, nervously. Only then did Vin reach out and undo the buttons on JD's trousers, easing them down just past his hips. Vin placed a gentle hand on the kid's shoulder and coaxed him down onto the bed. Squatting before him, Vin took one of JD's shoes in his hands and pulled it free, the woolen sock quickly followed. Vin ran his hand firmly over the exposed skin, feeling the coarse, dark hairs that ended at the boy's pale ankle. He could hear the short, quick breaths JD was now taking, so Vin plied his thumbnail to the sole of the kid's foot, sending him into peels of laughter.

As the squeals died, Vin could hear the deep intakes of air and could feel the relaxing of the muscles as he grasped JD's other leg. Once removed, the second shoe and sock joined the first near Vin's own pile of clothing beside the chair. He then grasped the hems of the brown pants and pulled them off JD's legs. What remained behind was a pair of worn, faded-red leggings.

Vin looked up at the kid and found him looking back, a tipsy smile gracing his fine lips. JD shrugged off his shirt, and then pulled his undershirt awkwardly over his head, which caused him to list backwards, falling flat onto the mattress with his arms and head still stuck inside the shirt. He struggled for a moment, but he could neither sit up nor wriggle free of the constraining material.

Smiling broadly, Vin waited to see if JD would ask for help — he didn't. When he finally heard sobs of laughter, Vin knew it was time to lend a hand. He rose, and then moved around to the other side of the bed. Grasping the shirt near the shoulders, Vin eased it over JD's head, only briefly snagging it on the tip of the kid's puckish nose, before sliding it off his arms.

JD leaned his head back to look up at Vin, who towered above him; he grinned in thanks, but when Vin laughed, the kid narrowed his eyes and reached up, vindictively grabbing the towel from about Vin's narrow waist.

Silence crashed over the room like a violent thunderstorm as JD gaped at the sight now plainly visible above his face and Vin tried desperately to remember where the bottle of whiskey had gotten to.

Then JD reached up again, placing his hands on the outside of Vin's well-muscled thighs. Vin was suddenly very aware of the physical response his body was having to JD's touch, and it was obvious from the look on his face that JD was well aware of it, too. Slowly, the young man's hands moved up to Vin's hips, then forward over the coarse, curly hairs until his fingertips were finally able to caress the silken skin of Vin's penis.

Vin closed his eyes and leaned against the bed as JD's feather-soft touch seemed to drain strength from his legs. The older man's head lulled back and a sigh escaped from between his lips as JD's fingers continued to stroke the length of his warm shaft; then Vin almost gasped as the young man slipped one hand beneath to cup his balls, kneading the delicate contents of the sac.

Then the touch was suddenly gone, and Vin wondered if he had fallen asleep in the tub, if it had all been some strangely wonderful dream. He was afraid to open his eyes, afraid of what he might not find if he did, but, just the same, he had to know. But before he could steel his nerves enough to confirm his fears, the touch returned — JD's firm, small hands — accompanied by a soft, moist caress. Vin's eyes flew open and he looked down to find JD on his hands and knees, his tongue running slowly over Vin's now-aching cock. Vin placed his hands on the young man's head, running his fingers through the thick, dark strands, then down to caress his small ears, tracing a finger over the outer curve, down to the earlobe and lingering there.

When the kid hesitated, he slid one hand down to cover JD's fingers; shifting his hips slightly, Vin helped guide his penis into the young man's warm mouth. The sensations that follow both excited and surprised Vin — the kid had either done this before, or he was a natural. The pressure — the sucking — was not too fast, not too hard, yet enough that it was driving him mad and threatening to sap all strength from his legs. Without thinking, Vin heeded the growing urge and thrust his hips forward, forcing his cock deep into JD's mouth until it slammed against the back of his throat. With a gagging noise, the young man quickly pulled away, and then began coughing as he fell onto his side.

Stupid! Vin thought to himself. With that much alcohol in the kid's system, they're both real lucky he wasn't puking his guts out over the edge of the tub right now. The older man sank down onto the bed, sitting behind JD and gently rubbing the kid's back until the coughing fit eased and finally subsided.

JD remained on his side, his breathing still a bit ragged, and pushed his head back, pressing it against his friend's thigh. Vin continued to rub the kid's back and shoulders, moving his hand down only when JD began to relax and breath normally again. Vin closed his eyes as he traced the muscle fibers of JD's arm from shoulder to elbow, and then slipped over to touch the pale skin of the young man's stomach. JD was lean, but surprisingly well muscled, with a small layer of fat that he had yet to grow out of smoothing over the sinewy ripples. In the back of his mind, Vin reassessed the kid's age, placing him right around twenty.

JD rubbed the back of his head against Vin's thigh, apparently enjoying the attention, so Vin eased his hand beneath the waistband of the faded-red leggings, slipping over the smooth skin of JD's belly to the coarse tangle of hair, which Vin readily imagined was pitch black. His fingers moved lower, slowly searching until they came in contact with soft, pliable warmth. Vin wrapped his strong fingers gently around the mostly flaccid member — stroking, kneading, and pulling to encourage a response that was slow in coming.

Vin wondered if it was the alcohol, if maybe he had let the kid drink too much; then he wondered if maybe this was the problem all along. Did JD have to drink to get up enough courage to be with a woman and was he only sabotaging himself when he couldn't then perform? It was an interesting theory, but Vin decided he had more immediate things he needed to concentrate on, so he leaned back on his elbow, and, with his other hand, slid the leggings down over JD thin hips. He saw that the hair, which had been beneath his fingers, was indeed black, almost blacker than the hair on JD's head, and it was as it had felt, not in the least bit curly.

From the smile gracing JD's peaceful face, Vin was sure that his attentions were having a positive effect, but the malleable flesh in the palm of his hand told a different story. The older man scooted over slightly, pulling JD flat onto his back, then bent over and applied his mouth to the young man's tender tissue. He sucked and pulled, plying his tongue firmly to the soft skin, but still the response was minimal. Vin then reached down to tease one of JD's nipples. With his other hand, Vin continued to coax his partner's erection by stroking his testicles, enjoying the sensation himself as the loose skin contracted beneath his fingertips. Soon his attentions were rewarded when JD's penis began to grow — swelling in both width and length — until Vin could no longer comfortably contain the entire length. He drew his mouth back, dragging his teeth gently along the shaft, and then Vin plunged his head down, taking JD as far into his mouth as he could before releasing him again.

It was then that the older man felt a hand moving up his leg, up his thigh, to grasp his penis; hesitantly at first, but then firmly and decisively, JD stroked Vin's burning erection. The younger man shifted his position in order to use both his hands as well as his mouth — stroking, licking, squeezing, sucking — until Vin wanted to scream with agonizing pleasure. He had never been so hard, so ready; he released JD's penis to the air, moaning deeply as his orgasm burst into his partner's mouth. Still JD did not relent, kneading Vin's testicles to milk out every last drop, licking up the cum which escaped from the corner of his mouth to trickle down Vin's waning erection.

The sensations that washed over Vin were incredible. The anticipation in no way neared the reality of what he was feeling; his whole body felt alive, sparked with energy, ablaze with rapture. Vin wanted nothing more at that moment than to share what he had just experienced. Again he took JD's still-erect penis into his hot mouth, all the way down to the base, then slowly — very slowly — drawing back. With his tongue, Vin felt the hard ridges, traced the line of JD's rapid pulse back up to the velvety head, up to the very top, before running the tip of his tongue over the opening of the foreskin, gently sneaking between the protective covering to caress the tender bulb beneath.

Almost impossibly, JD's penis seemed to grow harder, hotter, until Vin felt small undulations as the young man tried to suppress the instinct to thrust his erection deep into the warm vessel of Vin's mouth. JD's caresses became firmer, almost clinging, as Vin continued to stroke the taut skin surrounding the young man's testicles before allowing his fingers to migrate back, stroking the delicately-smooth skin just behind, then back, further, to touch the puckered surface there.

JD's first response was tension; his legs came together, the muscles in his butt clenched, his hips jerked forward, all combining to thrust both his erection into Vin's willing mouth and Vin's finger into his not-so-willing anus.

Vin did not move. Instead he waited for JD to relax again, which took what seemed like an eternity. But finally Vin felt the tension in the young man's legs ease, so he boldly moved his tongue the merest of fractions across JD's erection and applied the most gentle of sucking pressures, which helped JD to relax even more. Soon Vin felt the young man's hands moving over his thighs again, up to his hips. The older man then raised one knee, exposing himself to JD as JD was exposed to him. Only then did Vin dare to move his index finger inside of JD — gently, slowly — in a small, circular motion.

Vin felt the younger man's hand come hesitantly between his legs, JD's own fingers carefully exploring the new region, gently touching, pressing, until he was able to slip a finger inside, mirroring the movements Vin was making. The older man slowly — very slowly — pushed his finger deeper, then waited for JD to do the same. Then he pulled back slightly before pushing in again — so slowly. Again, JD mimicked the movements and Vin knew that it was time. Carefully, he withdrew his finger as he released JD's captured penis from his mouth.

"Nmmnn?" came a small sound from behind him as he pulled away from JD. He crawled over the young man's legs, and then stretched out to the chair, barely able to reach his saddlebags that he dragged onto the bed. JD took the opportunity to retrieve the whiskey from where he had left it on the floor near the foot of the bed. He downed a large swig, before passing it over to Vin, who absently took a good sip before handing it back.

As Vin began rummaging around inside the one pouch, he felt JD move behind him — a hand on his back and a chin on his shoulder — looking curiously over at what Vin was doing. With a sigh, Vin turned the bags over to reach inside the other pocket, finally finding the item he had been searching for: a bottle of neat's-foot oil, which he had gotten into the habit of carrying to condition the leather of his tack while he was on the trail. He handed the bottle to JD, and then scooted past him to the center of the mattress.

The kid looked up at Vin, confusion tainting his otherwise pleasant features; Vin reached over and retrieved the bottle. He removed the cork, pouring a small amount in the palm of his hand, then slowly reached out to JD, wrapping his fingers around the young man's still-swollen penis.

Slowly, Vin moved his hand up and down the shaft, feeling more blood rush in, warming the skin until it almost burned his palm. With his other hand, he poured a few more droplets of oil onto JD's firm erection as he increased the cadence of his strokes. Then he nudged his friend with the bottle, until JD held open his hand to receive a large dribble of oil. The young man then reached out to Vin as if to follow the older man's example, to again mirror the same motions, but Vin stopped him before he could make contact.

Again JD looked up at him in confusion. Vin merely smiled, then slid onto his side, with knee raised, just as he had been before. JD seemed to understand as he wetted his fingers with the oil; he touched Vin then, starting at the head of his penis, slowly drawing his fingers down the shaft to his testicles, over the loose skin there, and across the small smooth-spot to the puckered entrance of Vin's anus. Here he let his fingertips linger, spreading the oil between the muscles of his partner's butt, then testing again the feel of his finger inside Vin. He pushed again and pulled, until Vin handed him the bottle. JD applied more oil to the area and to his hand before slipping an additional finger inside.

He waited, but JD did no more, so Vin rolled away and eased himself onto his hands and knees. Then, reaching between his legs, Vin grabbed JD's long pike and pulled him closer. He heard an exhale which he somehow knew to mean that JD was smiling, pleased with himself that he understood what Vin wanted him to do next. The older man released his hold on his partner's penis, as he heard more oil being poured. Then Vin heard the sound of skin rubbing quickly against skin, before he felt the young man's slick hands on his hips and JD's penis pressing against his anus. Vin pushed back as the young man pulled himself forward, both men gasping as JD's hard erection was suddenly driven deep inside Vin. He then heard the young man moan as he ground his pelvis against Vin's butt.

Still clutching at Vin's hips for support, JD slowly pulled back, but not out, then carefully, as if savoring the feel of every inch, he drove his cock back inside. So slowly back. So slowly in. JD's hands on Vin's hips pulled and pushed but never changed position.

Finally, Vin, balancing himself with one hand, reached back to take one of JD's hands, drawing it down to his own penis, guiding it over the stiffening tissue. JD took the hint and began to stroke his friend back to a solid erection, while Vin reached far back between his legs, just able to reach the young man's testicles with his fingertips on each inward stroke.

Soon the cadence of JD's deep thrusts began to require all of his concentration. The young man's hand came back up to Vin's hip for support as he drove harder into his partner, with quicker, shorter strokes. JD's fingertips began to dig into Vin's skin and Vin felt the young man tense and heard him moan with the growing anticipation and need for release. Faster he pushed in, pulled out, and then rammed deep. Faster. Harder. Down, back. In. In. Until ... he felt JD shudder, crying out in release.

After a few gentle, final pushes, the pair fell, exhausted, onto the bed — JD still inside Vin. The tracker reached back to caress the young man's sweat-dewed thigh, then felt JD's lips press softly across his shoulders. Though he was loathe to move, to disturb the perfection of the after-glow, Vin reached out to grab the corner of the comforter, pulling it over himself and JD, who then rearranged himself closer against Vin's back, stroking the barely-damp strands of curly hair. But soon the caresses stopped and JD's hand slipped limply onto Vin's shoulder. Vin took the hand in his own, pulling JD's arm down around his waist, hugging it to him, then drifted off to sleep himself.

Vin woke first, not having drunk nearly as much as JD had. He gently slipped out of the young man's arms, not even considering the possibility of accidentally waking his partner. He found the cloth from his bath hours before and used the now-cold water in the tub to quickly sponge off his face, his chest, his crotch, and finally his ass, before discarding the towel and retrieving his clothes.

It took him only a few moments to slip back into his long johns and his pants. He then sat down on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots. Before he stood again, he ran a hand down the length of JD's side, almost hoping the young man would wake just long enough to smile up at him, but JD did not stir. With a smile on his own lips, Vin got up and reached for his shirt, which he pulled on, leaving it loose and unbuttoned, then shrugged into his jacket before he strapped on his gun-belt. Vin packed up the contents of his saddlebags, and then checked quickly about the room in case he had forgotten anything before finally letting his eyes fall once more on JD.

He was a good kid. And he deserved better than most people gave him. Vin wished that someday JD would earn the respect of the others and they would stop resenting him for what the harsh realities of the west had slowly stolen from them: enthusiasm, idealism, dreams, and hope.

Vin grabbed his hat, then crossed to the door, pausing just long enough for one last, quick glance over his shoulder at the sleeping young man.

"See ya 'round, JD." He smiled before opening the door and leaving. A sense of sadness filled him as he strode further away, though he knew that he could not turn back: could not return to finish the night in JD's tender embrace, could not allow JD to wake up next to him, sober. It would be difficult enough for the kid as it was, no need to make things harder.

Then Vin began to wonder. Did things really have to be complicated for JD? He had drunk quite a bit.... Maybe ... just maybe....

Vin paused when he reached the top of the stairs, surveying the now-bustling saloon. With the raise of an eyebrow, he smiled to himself again, then descended the staircase and made his way through the crowd until he found one of the working girls. As soon as she noticed him coming over, she smiled brightly in encouragement. As Vin looked her over, from head to toe, she reached out to stroke his arm. He took a step back before she could touch him and shook his head. Then he moved on to another girl, looking her over and finally asking for her name.

"Isabelle, honey," she simpered, and again Vin shook his head before moving on.

Four girls later, he found one he rather liked the looks of: thin and tall, just an inch or so shorter than himself, with curly, light-brown hair. She smiled sweetly but made no move to touch him or proposition him. "What's yer name?" he finally inquired.

"Gwyneth." And still she made no move to entice him.

"Gwyneth. Gwyn," he muttered to himself, before asking, "How long ya been here in town?"

This time she furrowed her pale brows slightly before answering, "A few months."

Vin nodded as he took her hand, then led her to the stairs. When they reached the top landing, he pointed down the hallway. "Go take a nap."

"Excuse me?" Gwyneth's brows furrowed again as she stared curiously at Vin.

He held out the room key. "My friend, JD, is sleeping off a little too much alcohol. And I want him to wake up next to you."

"That's it? You just want me to lay there and wait fer him to wake up?" She raised a delicate eyebrow at Vin, obviously wondering at that moment about his sanity.

Vin nodded. "And don't say anythin'. Let him think whatever he wants ta think about ya bein' there. Okay?"

"I suppose..." she replied hesitantly, still not sure about this odd situation.

Vin pulled some bills from his pocket and held them out in front of the girl, a few dollars on the sly that her boss need never know about. "If he asks, tell him yer name is Gwyn. And if he wants ta do anythin', ya just play along. Got it?"

"Sure. Anythin' he wants," she replied as she took both the room key and the money he had offered her. As Gwyn brushed passed him, Vin caught her arm. He smiled sweetly as he brought his lips to her hair, close to her ear, and whispered, "Remember what I told ya."

She nodded, and then twisted her arm free. Vin watched as she sauntered down the hall to JD's room. Gwyn placed the key in the lock, slowly turning it, then twisted the handle and pushed the door open. She glanced back at Vin, nodding again in assurance, before stepping inside.

When the door closed, Vin forced himself to turn and leave. He slowly made his way down the staircase, rubbing the stubble still on his cheeks and smiling at the memories of the unplanned turn of events that had forestalled his thoughts of a shave that evening. He paused only for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, tempted to look back, wondering if JD was still sleeping and, if so, what he might be dreaming about.

Then, silently, he crossed to the bar and squared his account — which included the whiskey, the room, the bath, and, now, the girl — with the ginger-haired barkeep. Money well spent, Vin thought to himself, as he laid the bills down on the counter. The evening should have done wonders for JD's confidence, and if that girl did her job right it should do wonders for his reputation, as well. At the very least, should JD have regrets, he need not remember things exactly as they happened, if that was easier for him.

As he headed outside, Vin put a hand to his neck, missing the bandanna that usually hung there. He was not used to the cool, night air on the bare skin of his neck, but in a way it felt pleasant, refreshing. Stepping into the street, Vin glanced up at the countless stars scattered across the sky and wondered if they actually were brighter than they had been the night before.

Please do NOT repost this story anywhere outside of the Blackraptor Fiction Website.

Special thanks to my beta readers for all of their wonderful help and encouragement!

Characters from "The Magnificent Seven," were used without permission and this story in no way signifies support of or affiliation with The Mirisch Group, MGM, Trilogy Entertainment, or CBS Worldwide, Inc. The story itself and any non-Magnificent Seven characters belong to the author. This story will not be sold for any reason.

1998

Historical Note: this was the first slash story written and posted in the M7 fandom.