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ON CHRISTMAS DAY
by C.V. Puerro |
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ON CHRISTMAS DAY
by C.V. Puerro |
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Continued...
Vin, what's this about?""Git in the wagon," Vin said; there was a discomforting edge to his low voice.
"Huh?"
"Keep yer voice down and git in the wagon," Vin insisted.
An uneasy feeling was growing in Chris's stomach; it was an instinct he didn't normally ignore, but this was Vin Tanner. He trusted the man, as much as he would allow himself to trust anyone. Still, Chris didn't like the sensation buzzing around inside of him. It made him nervous, and he could feel it right down to the tips of his fingers on his shooting hand.
Chris climbed onto the tailgate of the wagon anyway, pushed aside the canvas, and crawled inside. It was dark, but Chris could feel that there were boxes and variously shaped articles piled along each side; in the center was a thin ticking mattress, covered by a wool blanket.
He felt Vin's hand against his ass, pushing him further inside. Chris still had no clue what in the hell was going on, and the complete darkness inside the wagon was doing nothing to alleviate his unease. When he reached the far end of the wagon's bed, he stopped. He wasn't sure if he should turn around or not, so he just waited for Vin to let him know.
A moment later, Vin was crawling in behind him and Chris heard the tailgate being raised and secured. Chris was kneeling and he felt Vin's hand come to rest on his shoulder.
"Not a sound," Vin whispered in his ear, which caused every hair on the back of Chris's neck to stand on end.
Chris didn't like this, not one bit, but Vin had yet to do anything to really cause such suspicion. Vin hadn't pulled his gun, not that Chris was aware; he hadn't made any moves to try to restrain him; and, Chris knew he could fight his way past Vin and out of the wagon if he had to. Still, Vin had been angry and upset when they'd last they'd parted....
The uneasy feeling in Chris's gut was feeding the curiosity in his mind. He wanted to know what Vin had planned here. He wanted to know if Vin was giving him cause to end all their troubles in a pool of blood — wouldn't be the ideal way of handling things, but Chris had learned a long time ago that sometimes it seemed the only way.
"Vin—" Chris began, but Vin's hand came up quickly to cover his mouth.
"I said, quiet. And I meant it."
Chris jerked his head to the side, ridding himself of Vin's stifling hand. He was quickly losing patience with all of this, but his curiosity kept him from acting.
An instant later, he felt Vin's hands on his waist, slipping around to undo his gun belt. Vin was disarming him, and that's when his heart began to race. Chris turned then, intent on getting the hell out of the damn wagon, even if that meant tearing right through the canvas covering.
However, as soon as Chris turned around, he was caught in Vin's embrace as the man pressed his lips to his. Chris's head spun for a moment, from both the intensity and the unexpectedness of the contact. Then he melted against Vin; the sudden relief from the tension left him feeling nearly boneless. His arms came up to encircle Vin, to move over his back, to tangle in his hair. He really had thought he might never hold him this way again.
"Vin," he mumbled through their kiss, but Vin stilled his words with a gentle hand alongside his cheek.
He felt Vin's hands on his gun belt again, this time realizing what the man intended. Chris stopped him. "Not here," he whispered.
"Whole town's at the party," Vin quietly reminded him.
Chris realized it was true. They hadn't seen a single soul as they'd made their way through town to the back alley where Vin currently had his wagon parked. Still... "It's too risky."
"I know you want this," was Vin's whispered reply, so close to Chris's ear that the man's warm breath sent a small shiver down his spine.
"We can't."
"I know you need this," came Vin's hushed response, this time accompanied by a firm, yet gentle hand on the bulge inside Chris's trousers.
"We shouldn't."
"We have to."
God, he loved this man. He loved Vin Tanner. What Chris had said to JD earlier, it had been true, but he hadn't realized how much until this moment. Vin made him feel all the things Sarah had made him feel, and all the things Buck had made him feel; things he hadn't felt in years.
Simply, Vin made him feel again. And it hurt, like being caught in a flash flood, tumbling over and over through the water, not being able to find footing. Chris wrapped his hands tightly around Vin and held on. He did need this; he'd been unhappy and nearly dead inside for too long.
Then they were both fumbling with their gun belts and their trousers, pushing the fabric down their legs. Chris suddenly wondered how in the hell were they going to do this. Even if they had the space, which they didn't, they couldn't risk stripping; and they certainly couldn't be making any noise, not if they hoped to remain undetected.
"Vin...?" he began to ask, but another kiss from the tracker stopped his words.
Then Vin pulled back, but not far. Chris could still feel the man's soft breath on his face as Vin whispered, "You need to take me. Here. Now."
Vin turned around, pressing his bare ass against Chris's equally bare crotch. Immediately, Chris's hands were on Vin's hips, caressing the soft skin. His cock began to ache with the thought of driving his shaft deeply into Vin.
He'd never taken Vin, though he suddenly realized it was the one thing he wanted more than anything. Vin had been riding roughshod over him for weeks, months; no matter where they did it or how, Chris would always relinquish control to Vin. Even now. This was Vin's arrangement, Vin's wagon, Vin's rules.
However, Chris was determined to finally have things his way. That really was the problem, wasn't it? He'd been waiting for others to decide what they wanted, what they felt, what they were going to do. He was tired of waiting and he was going to take what he wanted, now.
Chris stuck his finger into his mouth, slathering it with spit, and then he slid his hand down Vin's backside, found the crack, and moved his finger between Vin's firm cheeks. He knew what Vin was feeling at this moment, trying to stay relaxed, trying to fight the tension, but losing as the anticipation built.
He found Vin's tight ring of muscle and slowly move the tip of his finger over it, then he pressed forward, shoving his finger inside. Vin clenched around the invading digit, but Chris pushed forward. Then he pulled back and shoved a second finger deep. Vin groaned and Chris felt it more than heard it as the vibration traveled through Vin's body, through Chris's fingers and up his arm.
Then he pulled his hand free and the sound of Vin panting for breath filled the small space of the covered wagon. Chris spit into his hand, not knowing what else to use and not wanting to stop long enough to rummage through the unseen clutter contained inside the wagon to find something more useful. Vin turned then, just enough to press something round and cold into Chris's hands.
By feel, Chris thought he knew what it might be. There was a small lid that Chris removed and then he dipped just the tip of his finger inside to determine what it contained. It was a little pot of lanolin, just like the one he had at the cabin; no, he was suddenly sure, this was the very same pot they'd used just that morning.
"Dammit, Vin," he breathed. Chris was frustrated that Vin was still directing this, despite his seemingly submissive posture. However, Chris knew that without the lanolin, with only spit, this wouldn't be as pleasant, for either of them. Unless....
Chris tossed the pot aside and it landed with a small thud against something that sounded wooden.
"Chris?"
He didn't answer except to quietly shushed Vin before spitting into his hand again. He leaned forward against Vin's ass, pressing the hard length of his cock between Vin's cheeks. Chris reached around Vin's waist, his hand snaking down his flat belly, down through the patch of curly hairs, until he was able to wrap his fingers around Vin's thick, warm flesh.
Chris began to stroke over the hard length, moving his hand slowly at first, teasing the tip with his thumb, caressing under and around the head, tracing each rope-like bulge that ran the length of his cock. Chris moved his other hand between them, between Vin's legs in order to capture his sac. He rolled the balls between his fingers — kneading, squeezing — until he felt a shudder race up Vin's back.
Vin let out a small groan, which prompted Chris to lean forward. "Quiet," he whispered in Vin's ear, but this produced a soft gasp from the tracker. "Not a sound," Chris said, using the words Vin had uttered to him.
He felt Vin's body move slightly and guessed it was from a nod; it was good enough for the moment. If they were going to do this, if Vin were going to give himself over to this, then Chris was determined to have his way, entirely.
He continued to stroke Vin, continued to ease him toward pleasant discomfort. Another shiver raced over Vin, and Chris smiled in the darkness. He squeezed Vin's balls one last time before releasing them. Then he moved his hand underneath Vin's shirt, up his stomach to his chest, seeking and quickly finding a small, soft nub.
Chris pinched the flesh and immediately felt the bud harden. Then he rolled it between his fingers, which caused the first droplets to weep from Vin's cock. Chris spread the slippery fluid over the head as he continued to worry Vin's nipple, until Vin was squirming beneath him.
"God..." he heard Vin breathe. Chris pulled his hand free of Vin's shirt, and then reached up to his neck, pulling the ever-present bandana off, over his head. Chris pressed the fabric up against Vin's mouth, using his fingers to force it between his teeth.
"Make another sound and you'll regret it," Chris warned, his voice low, his lips brushing against Vin's ear. So close to him, Chris felt Vin nod his head this time.
With his mouth next to Vin's ear, he flicked his tongue against his lobe, and then traced the delicate outer curve. He moved his mouth down to Vin's neck, gently kissing and suckling, tasting salt where the bandana had rested.
All the while, Chris never stopped moving his hand over Vin's length — squeezing and caressing. He slipped his hand low, tickling Vin's balls for a moment, before stroking slowly up his cock again, up to the slick tip. He wanted to taste the bitter sweetness, wanted to take Vin into his mouth, until Vin was pumping jizz down his throat, but that would have to wait. Next time. Next time, they'd be in Chris's room, or out at the cabin. Next time, this would all be Chris's idea, and he'd make Vin beg for it.
Chris smiled again, and then nipped at Vin's neck. Vin tried to pull away, but Chris locked his arm around his torso, holding him firm. Chris squeezed Vin's cock hard, until Vin reared under him, pressing his ass back, shoving it against Chris's crotch. Then Chris eased his grip to merely feather his fingertips over the hard flesh.
Vin shivered and nearly convulsed. He reached back with his hand to cover Chris's, trying to force more contact, to speed the action, but Chris just withdrew his hand. A moment later, when Chris's hand returned to Vin's cock, he found Vin's hand wrapped around the length, furiously stroking himself. Chris grabbed him, stopping the motion. He twined his fingers with Vin's, and then very slowly began to move up Vin's shaft as he pressed his hips forward, forcing his own cock to slide between Vin's cheeks.
Vin suddenly jerked forward, then his entire body twitched, hitched, and bucked as warm jizz coated their fingers. Chris continued to move their hands along Vin's cock; all the while, Vin remained quiet, as he'd been told.
Then Chris released Vin's hand and his cock and he moved his cum-drenched fingers to his own shaft, coating the length. What residue remained, he slicked between Vin's cheeks, pressing his fingers hastily into Vin's body. Vin shuddered again, then pushed his ass back, driving Chris's fingers deeper.
Chris pulled his hand away and quickly replaced it with the tip of his cock. He pushed against the puckered opening and felt the resistance give. Once inside, he grabbed Vin's hips and pulled himself deep. Vin's back arched, as he leaned forward onto his elbows; Chris felt him slide forward, his shoulders lowering, though his ass remained high. The movement had Chris picturing a sleek mountain lion, stretching, posturing towards its mate.
Chris thrust forward, shoving Vin the rest of the way down, the bed of the wagon just barely long enough to accommodate them both in this position. Chris imagined Vin was now bracing himself with his hands against the raised tailgate to prevent his head from banging into it.
He pushed hard and deep into Vin — his balls slapping against Vin was the only sound inside the wagon. This won't last long, Chris thought, not nearly long enough. He wanted it to last, but he wanted it to be over just as much — over so that they could get the hell out of this damned uncomfortable wagon and do this properly in a bed with blankets and privacy, without trousers knotted around his knees and the heels of Vin's boots pressing painfully against his calves.
Mostly, Chris just wanted this to be over so that they could do it again.
He pressed himself forward, shifting his hips slightly, until he felt Vin's ass clench against him; the man had a sweet spot, the same as he did. Chris thrust again, slower this time, and Vin shivered, taking Chris's shaft deep in small, irregular increments.
Chris slowly pulled back, until just the tip was buried inside, then he slowly pressing himself forward. He wanted something from Vin and thought he might be able to get it, if he could just force himself to be patient. He pulled back again — still so slowly — his hands on Vin's hips to prevent the man from hurrying things along, then he moved forward. Vin shuddered again; Chris had found the spot once more, so he stopped, then he moved back just a fraction. Again, he felt Vin's body quiver, so he pushed just slightly forward; another shiver, and Chris eased back just a little bit.
A violent shudder raced over Vin's body, from his ass all the way up until it seemed to explode out of his lungs in a throaty rumble. "Move!" Vin pleaded, though the word was mumbled by the bandana.
Chris did, though only slightly — he'd warned Vin to keep quiet — and he felt Vin's legs tremble all the way down to his boots. He pulled free of Vin, and a desperately breathy "no" filled the air around him: Vin begging for contact.
Something snapped inside of Chris then, as if the small sound had woken a hungry animal. He pushed himself deep into Vin, finally thrusting fast and hard. He tightened his grip on Vin's hips as the darkness before his eyes began to churn, like a reflection of the night sky caught in a whirlpool. Chris squeezed his eyes shut, but the darkness continued to move, as the wagon began to creak beneath them.
He thrust harder, faster, needing this, wanting this. Chris gritted his teeth as he clenched his ass, trying to force himself deeper, trying to force the come. Then he heard Vin; a strangled, muffled cry shook his entire body, as if he were coming for a second time.
Chris suddenly exploded, pumping his hot seed into Vin, his hips jerking forward until he was spent, but his body still trembled with need. He clawed his way up Vin's torso, pulling him upright; Chris twisted as he pulled Vin around, burying his face in the man's hair, kissing his neck in blind desperation fed by a frantic energy that danced like a million shooting stars behind his eyelids.
Chris knew he was mumbling words against Vin's skin, but there were so many filling his head, he didn't know which ones had actually formed in his mouth. He didn't care until his lips finally met Vin's.
"I love you," he declared, and then kissed Vin hard, until his lips felt as if they were swelling from the abuse and his lungs burned from the need of air. Then he pulled Vin into a tight embrace as he allowed his lips to move away, off along Vin's jaw, down to his neck. Chris buried his face in the crook of Vin's shoulder until his heart stopped thundering in his ears, until hands stopped shaking and began to grow heavy from exhaustion.
"Where are you?" he hollered. He checked the ground again, but it had been swept clean. No trace of tracks, of any kind. A feeling that he was alone flowed over him like a cold sweat; the fear that he was too late made his heart feel like booming thunder inside his chest.
Then he was running, driven forward by pure instinct. Vin scrambled up the dust-covered shale of the hill, his footing giving out from under him at the worst moments. Eventually, he reached the top. The sun was higher in the sky now, and he could feel the warmth of the rays on his face.
Vin looked down, over the edge of the sheer cliff and into the gorge that ended in a shallow, rock-filled river several hundred feet below.
Two pairs of hands clutched desperately to the unstable rock. Vin threw himself onto his belly and reached over, grasping a wrist in each hand.
"Vin!" they both called to him. "Pull me up! Vin, hurry, I'm slipping!"
He looked from light eyes to dark; he saw the determination on Chris's face and the desperation on JD's.
Vin struggled to pull them up, but he was only one man; they were too heavy for him, and they had no footing to help them in their ascent. Vin's mind raced. There had to be something he could do. He looked around for a rope, a tree branch, anything, but there was nothing, not a single thing on that barren precipice except dirt and rocks and a whole hell of a lot of nothing.
"Vin!" they both called, drawing his attention downward again.
"Help me, Vin," JD pleaded.
"Pull me up, Vin," Chris insisted.
But he couldn't. Their combined weight was slowly dragging him forward, pulling him over the crumbling ledge. Vin struggled to plant his feet, but he could find nothing with which to hold himself securely.
He looked down at JD, stared into his dark eyes. He saw warmth, happiness, and a desire to experience everything in life.
He looked over at Chris and stared into his green eyes, seeing comfort, home, and the appreciation for what it meant to be alive.
"I love you," Vin said, and he meant it, as he let go of Chris and watched him fall.
Now, with both hands, Vin grabbed firmly onto JD and began to haul him up to safety. Vin pulled and struggled, the muscles of his arms, back, and legs burning with the effort. Finally, JD crawled over the ledge and into Vin's arms. Vin held the kid, rocked him, knowing how close he'd come to losing him.
Eventually they stood. Vin took a step toward the edge of the cliff and peered over, needing to see where Chris had fallen and hoping he wasn't down there suffering.
"You love him?" JD asked and Vin nodded as tears brimmed in his eyes.
Suddenly, JD's hands were on Vin's back, a gentle caress that turned into a violent shove, pushing Vin off the cliff.
"Then be with him!"
Vin opened his mouth, screaming JD's name as he fell.
Striking the bottom of the canyon woke Vin from the dream.
He suddenly found himself trashing about on the floor, struggling to free himself from the bed sheets that were tangled about his flailing limbs.
Chris was by his side a moment later. "Vin ... Vin! You're okay. It's just a dream. Vin...." Chris slipped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close, reaching around with his other hand to stroke the back of Vin's head.
It was meant to be a comfort, Vin knew that, but it wasn't. He felt trapped, smothered. He pushed Chris away with all the strength he could muster in his still-trembling arms. He looked about the room. They were in Chris's cabin. He remembered now. They'd never gone back to the party. They'd saddled their horses and they'd headed out of town, out to the cabin, just the two of them.
It had seemed the right thing to do at the time, the only thing. But, suddenly, Vin was filled with uncertainty.
As Vin stood, he pushed the sweat-damp hair from his face; he scanned the room, squinting into the darkness, searching. Only when he caught sight of his boots beside the door did he realize what he'd been looking for. Vin moved toward them, almost tripping on the bed sheets beneath his feet. He slipped the boots on, and then grabbed his coat, pulling it on over his long johns.
"Vin, where you going?" Chris asked, still on the floor, just watching, looking worried, as if he thought Vin had suddenly lost his mind.
Vin shook his head. "Stay here," he said as he grabbed his gun belt and headed out the door.
Chris had dressed. He'd saddled his horse. And, he'd ridden down the road Vin had taken. He'd ridden toward town, because he knew where Vin was headed.
The cold night air seeped in through the seams of his clothing, adding to his discomfort, but he kept on. Knowing he would never catch up with Vin in time to stop him, Chris knew he still had to try. It was the thinnest thread of hope, but it was all that he had.
The ride seemed to last an eternity, yet too soon, before he was truly prepared for the confrontation he was rushing toward, Chris dismounted his horse, hitching him to the railing outside the livery. To his left was the flight of stairs leading to Nathan's clinic. As numb as the cold had made his extremities, it was nothing compared to what the thought of climbing those steps was doing to his innards.
Nevertheless, Chris mounted the stairs, concentrating hard on lifting his feet, propelling himself forward and up. Then he was on the walkway, forcing himself on until he stood before the clinic door. Suddenly and without thought, Chris found himself banging on the wood. He kept banging until the door was jerked open.
"Chris? What the—" The look on Nathan's face flashed quickly from concern to annoyance to anger. "If you aren't wounded, I swear I'll shoot you myself!"
"Is Vin here?" Chris asked, the words sounding far too desperate to his own ears. "I have to talk to him. Is he in there with JD?" He was almost begging Nathan to tell him, but when the man didn't answer quickly enough, Chris stepped forward, pushing Nathan aside.
The lantern hanging just outside the door cast enough light into the small room for Chris to see that the bed was empty.
"Where's JD?" he demanded.
"I sent him back to his own room" — Nathan sounded almost sad, as if he were telling Chris that a patient of his had died — "right after the party."
Chris continued to stare at the empty bed.
JD wasn't here.
Vin wasn't here.
"Chris..." Nathan said.
He nearly jumped when he felt Nathan's hand on his arm. Chris stared at him, not knowing what to say or what to do.
Vin wasn't here.
Chris knew Vin wasn't waiting for him somewhere else.
Vin was with JD.
Chris knew Vin had come to town looking for the kid. He didn't know what Vin had dreamed about, but his mumbled words had sounded frantic and anxious. The only thing Chris had clearly heard had been JD's name as Vin had tumbled out of bed.
Vin had looked around the cabin with both fear and panic in his eyes, like a wild horse that had first been spooked and then cornered. Chris hadn't even been able to react when he'd bolted.
"...Chris," Nathan was saying softly. "Come on inside."
The next thing Chris knew, he was seated on the edge of the bed, and Nathan was setting a match to the lantern on the side table. Chris turned his head away from the sudden flare of light, blinking until his eyes adjusted.
He looked around the room again. Chris didn't know why he expected to find the room somehow changed, but he did; he was disappointed when everything seemed to be in its place.
Chris's eyes fell on Nathan as the man removed a kettle from the small potbelly stove that warmed the room. A few moments later, Nathan was pressing a cup of liquid into his hands: it was too pale to be coffee and far too warm to be whiskey.
"Tea with honey. Drink," Nathan said, taking a seat at the table.
Chris lifted the cup to his lips and sipped. The flavor of the tea was weak, nearly overpowered by the sweetness of the honey. Still, the cup was warming his hands and he was grateful for that.
"So, you wanna tell me what's going on?" Nathan finally asked, setting aside his own cup of tea.
Chris slowly shook his head.
"I'm not blind, Chris. None of us are. Could guess what's going on around here, but I'd rather have the truth than be left to speculate on what all these pieces add up to."
Chris stared down into his cup, watching the small bits of green matter that floated on top of the liquid.
"Don't blame what I know on JD," Nathan said after a few moments. "Weeks ago — back when Buck was so sick — he talked in his sleep. Been noticing things ever since. I don't like where things seem to be heading. I don't like the way I've seen y'all behavin' lately."
"Blame it on the weather ... or the holiday."
"Can't do that, Chris, 'cuz I know it isn't either one — not deep down."
"Vin came here looking for JD," Chris said. He already knew it was true, but he made it a question anyway: "Didn't he?"
"Yeah. Not long before you came knockin'."
"And you told him where JD was," Chris said. His stomach was queasy, despite the tea.
"Had no reason not to."
Chris just nodded. To blame Nathan would be the first step in forcing his friends to choose sides. Chris didn't want things to come to that. He'd leave town before he allowed that to happen; he'd break his promise to Judge Travis, to the townsfolk, and he'd leave. It sounded so easy, and he'd make it look as if it was, but it wouldn't be. Nothing would be more difficult — nothing except staying and watching the friendships he'd formed come apart at the seams.
"So, what is it?" Nathan asked, breaking into Chris's thoughts, but Chris just stared at him, not understanding the question. Nathan raised his eyebrows and gave him a few choices: "Want? Need? What is it?"
Chris shrugged. He didn't know what it was with Vin and JD. A little bit of a lot of things, most likely, starting with too much youthful exuberance. What man their age didn't spend most of his day horny as hell? But a man of Chris's age ... what could explain his own behavior?
"Love," Chris heard himself saying, almost as if someone else had spoken the word.
"Love," Nathan repeated under his breath. It wasn't quite a question, it was almost as if he were testing out the word, trying to see if it fit anything he'd witnessed lately, as if the thought hadn't occurred to him before.
"That's a mighty small word," Nathan said. "Though it's probably the biggest word I know. Certainly can complicate things."
Chris nodded.
"I heard JD tell you he loved Vin."
Chris felt as if a boulder had suddenly become lodged in his throat. He swallowed, but that only made the pain worse.
"Does Vin love JD?"
"He, uh ... a while ago, he said he did."
"But you got reasons not to believe him?"
Thoughts of being with Vin sprung immediately to mind: tonight in the wagon, Christmas morning in the cabin, weeks ago on the roof of the saloon of all places.... Chris almost smiled, though the memory shouldn't have been a happy one; he'd been angry and frustrated with Buck and he'd allowed Vin to fuck him in a moment of desperate need.
"Yeah, I have reasons," Chris finally said.
"And where does Buck figure into all of this?"
Chris did laugh now, though the sound struck his ears with a bitter tone.
Buck. None of this was really his fault, yet he'd gotten as tangled up in things as a stray calf in a roll of barbed wire. He was cut and bleeding, and still trying to extricate himself. Some of it was Chris's fault: he'd left the pasture gate open far too long, waiting to see what Buck would do. Some of it was Buck's own doing: wanting something he probably wasn't ready for, might never be ready for. And some of the blame had to be laid on Vin, and even JD: they'd inadvertently stirred a hornet's nest with their tireless energy.
Things had been so calm between himself and Vin — they'd come together when they had the need, the desire — but there hadn't been this desperation, not until Vin had slept with JD. That's when everything had changed. It wasn't necessarily the kid's fault; he couldn't have intended things to end up this way, but the fact of the matter was they had.
If it had been anyone else, anyone but JD, Chris had to believe things would have turned out differently. Buck, for one, wouldn't have been nearly so afflicted had he caught Vin being sucked off by, say, Ezra or ... well, or anyone. But it had been JD. Sweet, innocent, annoying, energetic, persistent, lovable JD who was like the little brother Buck had never had. Anyone else and things surely would have been different.
But that didn't answer Nathan's question. Not really. And Chris had too many of his own that still needed answering. Too many he couldn't even begin to answer.
He set his cup aside and buried his tired face in his hands. It was too late to be thinking about this, and he was too old, too worn. He wished he had all the answers, like everyone expected, but he didn't. Maybe it was time he admitted it.
"I don't know, Nathan," Chris finally said. "I just don't know."
JD hated him; he had every right to. Vin knew it was entirely his fault as well. He could blame Chris as much as he wanted for all of this, but it didn't change the facts: Vin had done this to JD, he'd pushed him away and on Christmas day no less. No one forced him; no one held a gun to his head. He could have just walked away, but he'd done what Chris had told him to do.
Because the man had made sense to him — this was tearing them apart. Nathan's reaction when he'd knocked on the clinic door, looking for JD, verified that they were all now involved. In one way or another, this was affecting each of them.
Only, Vin didn't know how it had gotten to this point. Why couldn't Chris have been happy with the way things had been? What was wrong with him sharing a little comfort with Chris and having a little fun with JD? Why did this have to end up being all about Chris? What Chris wanted? What Chris needed?
If the man wanted loyalty, he had it from all of them. But if he wanted fidelity, Vin wasn't the guy ... and, come to think of it, Buck probably wasn't either, not given his history with women. Buck would bed an available woman once, but an unavailable one as many times as she'd let him.
If Chris wanted one person to be there for him, to stand by him, to look to no one else for comfort and support, love and affection ... well, maybe he ought to just start courting Mary Travis. She wasn't his beloved Sarah, but Vin was fairly certain Mary was as close as Chris was going to come to that dream of hearth and home.
Vin reached out and turned the knob; he honestly wasn't sure if JD would let him in if he knocked, and he couldn't take that chance, not right now.
"JD," he whispered as he eased the door open.
On the bureau was a small lantern that illuminated the room, and Vin's mouth dropped open at what he saw. On the bed was JD, curled up in Buck's arms. JD's splinted arm was resting across Buck's slowly rising and falling chest, his leg was thrown over Buck's thigh, and his head was resting against Buck's shoulder. At least they were fully clothed, lying on top of the covers.
Vin stood there, with not a single thought in his head. It was the last thing he'd expected to find. And Vin wasn't sure what it meant, not after what had happened between him and Buck the night before.
Suddenly Buck's eyes came open and he sat up, waking JD in the process. The kid groaned and Vin was sure that Buck had jostled his arm, inadvertently hurting him.
"Git away from him," Vin demanded in a low voice. He was speaking to Buck, but it was JD who pulled away.
Buck slid off the bed and crossed the room in a few heavy steps, to stand in front of Vin, blocking his view of JD on the bed.
"Whadda you want?" Buck demanded, towering over Vin in a way Vin knew was intentional posturing.
"Come to talk to JD," he said, as calmly as he could.
"I think you've done enough talking to JD." Buck was standing his ground, with a look on his face like anger carved into stone.
"I need to talk to him," Vin said.
"I think you gave up that right this afternoon," Buck said, not budging.
"It's okay, Buck," JD said quietly from the bed. "I'll talk to him."
Vin didn't smile, but he wanted to, just to piss Buck off. "You can close the door on yer way out, Buck."
Buck didn't move for a full minute. He just kept glaring down at Vin. Then, finally, he spoke. "What you said to me after church this morning, I know you meant it, so know that I mean this: if you ever touch JD again, I'll kill you."
"Don't reckon it's any of yer business," Vin replied, though he could tell Buck wasn't bluffing.
"Then you reckon wrong," Buck warned. He stepped to the door, paused just long enough to look back at JD, and then quietly shut the door behind him.
Vin reached over and slid the bolt quietly into place. Then he crossed to the bed and boldly sat down on the edge.
"JD, about what happened today—"
"You're with Chris now?"
"I was. I have been. This whole time. Since before I was with you. You know that. I ain't never lied to you 'bout it."
"But you never told me you couldn't be with me anymore because of it."
Vin just nodded. When he'd told the kid that, he'd thought it was over between all of them.
"I know. I thought ... I thought this could be fixed, that we could all just go back to bein' friends. But, I guess it can't work that way. I care about you too much, and about Chris."
"And I care about Buck," JD said, which surprised the hell out of Vin. "No, not like that," the kid amended. "But I care. He means a lot to me and I don't want you two fighting."
"We weren't fightin' 'bout you. Buck didn't tell you?"
JD shook his head.
"Look, I don't know what's goin' on with Buck, but he ... he got drunk last night — bad — and he tried to ... force me to do somethin' I ain't got no want to do."
"Buck ain't like that!" JD said, leaping to his friend's defense; Vin just had to love him for his unwavering loyalty. "Buck would never do that: not to you, not to anyone."
"He did, JD. I ain't makin' it up. Wish it weren't true, but it is."
"That's why you threatened to kill him? That's why you were so mad this morning?"
"Yeah."
"So, why'd you yell at me?"
Vin stared down at his hands. He really didn't have an answer for the kid. He'd been all worked up because of Buck, but JD had nothing to do with that. It was just....
"Was it because of your ma — because she died on Christmas?"
Vin looked at JD, stunned. "How'd you know that?"
"I know you think I'm young, but do you think I'm stupid, as well? You shoulda told me. I'd have understood. Maybe better than anyone. I don't like thinking about the day my mama died, and it wasn't even a holiday. Must be hard for you — everyone happy, celebrating with their families...."
Vin just shrugged.
"You shoulda told me."
Vin just hung his head again. Maybe he should have. Maybe none of this would have happened if he'd just been able to share that one bit of his past with JD. But the kid was right: he had feared that JD would make the day harder for him, reminding him of things he didn't like thinking about. But, more than that, Vin feared that his dislike of the day would ruin Christmas for JD, by making the kid feel that he ought not to celebrate it, for Vin's sake.
Vin had been wrong. And he'd ruined things anyway.
"Yeah, I shoulda told you. I will next time. Promise."
The kid nodded, his smile soft in the light cast by the lantern. JD scooted over on the bed, then tentatively reached out his good arm. Vin reached out, too, slipping his arms around JD. Then they both leaned back against the pillows. Vin rested his head against the kid's shoulder as JD began to gently stroke his hair.
Vin didn't think anyone in this world could make him feel safe and secure, not anyone except Chris. Turns out, he'd been wrong about that, too.
"Vin?"
"Yeah, JD?"
"I still need to give you your Christmas present."
"You already have."
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!Please do NOT repost this story anywhere outside of the Blackraptor Fiction Website.
Special thanks to my beta reader for her help at such a busy time of year.
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.
December 2002
