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SIX
"Vin! Stop!" Chris pulled firmly on his wrists, trying to pry the hands down, trying to make Vin look at him. The young man put up a struggle, but the larger, healthier one prevailed and Vin finally lay as still as death on the bed except for the rapid expansion and contraction of his chest. Chris relaxed his grip on the wrists and stared hard at the tortured face that in peace was the essence of perfection. He leaned down to talk in a low, harsh voice right next to the tracker's face. "You hear me and you hear me good," he said between clenched teeth. "What happened to you and J.D. has absolutely nothing to do with your skills or ability or sloppiness or anything that you had control over. They laid a trap, you were outnumbered, and they preyed on you. You-are-not-to-blame," he paced out each word for emphasis.
"I gotta be responsible fer my actions," Vin choked out. "What she said, about me and J.D., she said we was... she thought we was... ya know . . ."
"What the hell you talkin' about, Vin?"
"Sweet. She called us sweet' boys." The size and depth of color of Vin's blue eyes seemingly doubled, as he stared at Chris, imploring him to understand his pitiful attempt at explanation. "She said we was an abomination. Was she right? Chris, could this be some kinda . . . punishment?"
"For what?" Chris began to sound agitated.
"Fer doin' what ain't, ya know, natural?"
"What the... ?!" Chris stood abruptly and stared, mouth agape, in disbelief at the forlorn figure on the bed. "You aren't serious. You honestly think you're being punished for lovin' me? Oh my ..." Chris massaged his suddenly throbbing temples and stalked to the window.
"Why else would somethin' like this happen?" Vin asked in a small voice.
His back to the bed, Chris pounded the windowsill. "Damn shitty luck? Being in the wrong place at the wrong time? I dunno, Vin. Maybe it's your fate to have met up with them fucking witches. All's I know is, it's not your fault, and I'm kinda at a loss here fer figuring out how you think it has to do with us." He exhaled loudly and shook his head. "Are ya feeling that guilty about lovin' me?" he asked
At the sound of the bed creaking, Chris turned around. Vin was halfway across the room coming toward him on wobbly legs. Tears brimmed at the edges of his wide eyes. "I can't seem to do nothin' right, these days, Pard." Blink. Twin tears forged tracks down the chiseled cheeks. "What the fuck's wrong with me?" He got to within a few feet of the older man and his knees buckled.
Chris lunged, catching the slight man under the arms and helped him back to the bed. "Lie down, and don't say a word," he commanded. Turning his head away and sniffling, Vin did as he was told. Chris began removing Vin's clothes, talking all the while, whether for his own benefit or Vin's, the tracker wasn't sure. "That's some of the stupidest damn shit I ever heard, Vin Tanner." Off came boots and socks. "And I'm mad as hell, you'd even think of such a thing, specially as it means... " Chris grunted in indignation, but his gentle touch betrayed his true feelings as he lifted Vin to a sitting position and eased the shirt off his shoulders and arms, and his voice softened to a whisper "... that there's something wrong with me, too." A calloused hand pushed carefull against Vin's shoulder , making him lie down again. His voice roughened again. "And by God, I'm not fallin' into any such crap... " he unbuttoned Vin's pants, "-- about moral and immoral, right and wrong--" Chris went to the end of the bed and tugged at both pants legs, purposeful and determined, but mindful of Vin's still healing body, until finally he whisked the garment away like a magician's cape."-- natural or unnatural,'" he spat out the last word in disgust.
A sigh escaped Chris Larabee's lips as he paused to take a long look at the vulnerable nude stretched out before him on the bed. "'Cause," he continued, his voice just shy of reverential, "this is the most God-inspired piece of nature I ever have had the good fortune to witness. I don't care what anybody says, I love ya and I want you more 'n I can ever tell ya."
Unable to so easily shake off his guilt, Vin squirmed self-consciously. His hand slid down his belly, coming to rest on the place where he had been branded by the demons in the woods. "I ain't . . . like I used ta be, Chris," he said sadly. "Not . . . the same."
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