DO NOT LINK THIS STORY TO OTHER WEBSITES
This is a sequel to Peggy's story, His Need. Thanks to Peggy for allowing me to write it.
Sleep wouldn't come. It should come, he was exhausted. They'd made love three times, neither one of them able to get enough of the other. And yet, hours after Chris had fallen into a deep sleep he was still awake. He didn't want to be awake; being awake meant thinking. And, it was for damn sure, Vin didn't want to think right now. He couldn't think about the lovemaking, the tender way Chris had held him and kissed him. All he could think about was the way Chris had used him that first time. The way he'd been used his whole life.Vin rolled onto his side, with his back to Chris. Chris wouldn't wake up for hours, he was certain of it. This was the fifth or maybe it was the sixth time, it was getting hard to remember, that Chris had done this. Taken him brutally, painfully and then making love to him tenderly, over and over. And each time, Chris had slept like a dead man for hours afterwards, while Vin lay awake trying not to think about the pain he was in and the callousness his lover had shown. Could Chris love him and treat him this way?
Vin didn't know. He sure the fuck hadn't ever had anybody else say they loved him. He remembered all those lonely times, just wishing there would be someone who gave a shit. He remembered holing up in a shack in the mountains when a freak winter storm had hit at the end of April. There'd been something about the two men he'd been riding with that made the idea of taking refuge from a blizzard with them, damned unnerving. And it hadn't taken long for him to know why. They hadn't been hunkered down in that shack, with the snow blowing fiercely outside, more than 24 hours, when he'd been told to put out or get out. How old had he been that time? Seventeen, eighteen, maybe. He'd lit out of that shack, the minute the weather broke. He'd avoided partners after that. Sometimes need would drive him to accept one of the offers he got from the hard men he met on the trail. A couple of times he'd refused, only to be overpowered and used anyway.
And the thing that Vin didn't want to think on, was that he didn't feel much different right now, than he'd felt those times.
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"Vin?" Chris called very softly.
Vin lay very still and tried to keep his breathing calm. He hoped Chris would think he was sleeping and leave him alone. His emotions were too close to the surface right now and if Chris tried to talk to him, he didn't think he'd be able to keep from saying something stupid. He'd gotten through the other times ok and he'd get through tonight ok too - if Chris would just leave him alone long enough so that he could get himself under control.
"Vin?" a little louder and more demanding this time.
The tracker didn't move and suddenly Chris was pulling him into his arms. An involuntary gasp of pain escaped the younger man, when his body was turned towards Chris.
"Vin, what's wrong?" Chris demanded in a concerned voice.
"Nothin'," Vin answered flatly, without looking at his lover. He just needed a little more time and he'd be able to push the unwanted thoughts back down in that place where he kept the ugly things he didn't want to think about.
Chris frowned. There was definitely something wrong. Vin was hurting, he was sure of it and the tracker didn't want to tell him why. Letting the stubborn Texan go, Chris climbed out of bed and found the matches on the night stand and lit the lamp. Vin had turned onto his side with his back to Chris again and Chris put a hand on his shoulder and was shocked at the tenseness he found there. Something caught his eye and he leaned away from Vin and the bed to pick up the rag Vin had cleaned himself with from the floor. Blood, dried brown, stained the material and Chris felt his heart sink. Shit! Vin was hurting because of him.
Chris took a closer look at his lover. He couldn't see Vin's face, but he could see the traces of blood on Vin's ass and thighs. And, he could see the smears of blood on the bed. The little grunts and moans from Vin, when he took him that first time hadn't been from pleasure, but pain. He'd taken Vin that same way a few other times, Chris recalled and the tracker had never given him any hint that it had hurt. But now, seeing the blood and hearing that little gasp, the gunslinger realized that he'd hurt Vin every time he'd taken him hard and fast like that.
But, Chris mused, why hadn't Vin said anything? He had to know, maybe not the first time or two that Chris had taken him like that, but for sure the other times, that it would hurt. And, yet, when Chris had told him to roll over, he'd done it, without a word of protest. Why? Why would Vin let himself be hurt without lifting a finger or opening his mouth to stop it? There was a hell of a lot going on here, that Chris didn't understand, but he was damned sure going to figure it out. And the only way to do that, was to get Vin to open up to him. Chris smiled, he had just the thing to loosen Vin Tanner's notoriously silent tongue.
Chris spared a glance at his lover as he carefully unwrapped the bottle of Rye he'd stowed inside his saddlebag. He had no glasses, only a couple of battered tin coffee cups, but they'd do. Gathering up the cups and the bottle, Chris padded silently over to the bed and sat down on the edge. Vin, he noticed, still hadn't moved. He sat the cups down and opened the bottle and poured the amber liquid into them until they were nearly full.
"Vin?" the blond called softly. The tracker didn't move and Chris put a hand on his shoulder and felt that unnatural tenseness again. "I know you ain't asleep pard, so you might as well turn over and have some of this whiskey I poured for you," Chris suggested.
God, that was just what he needed, Vin thought and shifted, careful to keep that blank look on his face. It hurt, but he could manage when he was just lying in bed. It was tomorrow, getting on his horse that Vin was really worried about. He'd have to make sure he was up and out before Chris woke up tomorrow. If Chris saw him mount up tomorrow, there'd be no hiding his pain. Vin moved until he was stretched out on the bed, with his head resting on the wall behind it. Chris handed him a drink and he took it gratefully. Whiskey would dull the pain enough, so that he could sleep. A good night's rest and he'd head back to town and hide out in his wagon for a couple of days.
Vin took a few sips of the fiery liquid and felt it's warmth burn it's way down to his belly and then radiate from his middle down to his toes and out to his fingers. Yep, a little whiskey was just what he needed right now. Pretty soon he'd be able to fall asleep.
And then Chris turned to face him and handed him the scrap of blue material he'd used to wipe away the evidence of his pain, before Chris could see it. Vin gave a choked little cry and struggled to get up out of the bed, only to have Chris take his cup and set it down on the stand beside Chris's own cup. The older man held Vin in place with one hand and used the other to turn the tracker's face toward his.
"We gotta talk pard," Chris said firmly and searched the blue eyes. He saw love and pain and confusion and fear. What in hell was it about this talk that Vin was afraid of? Chris added it to the growing list of things he was going to find out about tonight.
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Chris let go of Vin and turned and picked up both cups of whiskey and handed Vin his. Both men sat drinking for a time, until Chris finally broke the silence.
"Why?" he asked quietly.
Vin didn't pretend he didn't know what Chris was talking about. "Ain't a big deal," he said simply.
Vin was lying and they both knew it. Chris's green eyes were piercing as he brought them up to meet Vin's again. "You're hurtin' and bleedin' and all you got to say about it is "ain't a big deal?"
The Texan took another long drink of the burning liquid and closed his eyes. Chris watched him carefully. He could see the pulse beating wildly in Vin's neck, belying his calm demeanor.
"Chris, I'm real tired," Vin tried to deflect his lover's concern. "How 'bout we talk about all o' this in the mornin?" The tracker was trying like hell to keep all of the shit from spilling out, but it was too soon after, for him to get it all sorted out and filed away and he didn't know how much of Chris's badgering he could take without everything dumping out all over the two of them. And if that happened -- Shit. He couldn't, no, he wouldn't let it happen. He wasn't going to drive the only person who'd ever cared about him away, with complaints and accusations. The only thing he needed was just a little more time. Why the hell wouldn't Chris just leave him be tonight?
"Uh huh, and come mornin', you'll be spoutin' that I'm fine shit and closin' yourself off again. No way, pard. We're gonna settle this tonight, so have another damned drink and then you're gonna tell me why," Chris informed him in that don't fuck with me tone he had. He poured another generous drink into both of their cups and drained his and set the bottle and his cup on the night stand and waited for Vin to finish his.
Vin drank the burning liquid and tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do. Chris was like a goddamned bloodhound worrying a trail and he wasn't gonna let up until Vin spilled his guts. What the hell? he thought to himself, as he drained his drink. Chris was askin', it was his own damned fault if he didn't like the answers.
"What do ya wanta know?" Vin asked calmly and handed Chris his empty cup.
"Why'd you let me take you like that knowin' it would hurt?" Chris asked bluntly. He wasn't a man to dance around unpleasantness.
"You wanted it," Vin answered evenly. He kept his eyes fixed on his coat hanging on a peg across the room. Maybe it was the whiskey or maybe he was just tired of hiding the truth. He wouldn't volunteer anything, but whatever Chris asked him, he'd answer.
"I wanted it?" Chris's asked incredulously. "You think I wanted to fuck you so bad, I'd hurt you to do it?"
"I think you didn't give hurtin' me or not any consideration at all," Vin said carefully.
Shit Vin, why the hell didn't you just tell me to slow down?" Chris demanded indignantly.
Vin's head jerked up at that and his blue eyes seemed to bore into Chris's. "I told ya to get the goddamned oil, but you just spit on your fuckin' fingers and wiped it on your dick and shoved it in my ass," the tracker accused bitterly and rolled over with his back to Chris.
Vin's vehement words shocked Chris -- at first. Then the gunslinger flushed as shame washed over him. He vaguely remembered hearing Vin say something about the oil, but he'd been so damned horny and he'd missed Vin so much, that reason had left him the minute he'd caught sight of that slender body. Not just reason, but your goddamned compassion and humanity, Chris castigated himself. Shit, how could he have treated Vin that way? And, goddammit, he still didn't know why Vin had let him. He scrubbed his hand through his short blond locks a couple of times, and took a deep breath to calm his suddenly frazzled nerves.
Chris sat up and turned to look at Vin. He wasn't sure what he was going to say to the younger man, but he knew that he'd fucked up badly and he had to make it right.
"Vin," he began softly. "Turn around and look at me please." His plea got no response and Chris put a gentle hand on his lover's shoulder and tried again. "I'm sorry pard, just talk to me." He could feel how tense Vin's body was under his hand. The gunslinger tried to think of something else he could say to Vin, but how did you make someone understand something, when you didn't understand it yourself?
Vin was beginning to wish Chris hadn't come home last night, no not last night, this morning. Shit, he couldn't even keep the time straight. Maybe, he'd just drink the rest of Chris's bottle and get so drunk he'd pass out and not have to listen to Chris's bullshit. No, that wouldn't work. Chris wasn't the type to sit by and let someone else drink all his whiskey. Goddammit, why couldn't Chris just leave him the hell alone? he thought, not for the first time tonight.
But Chris wouldn't and he knew it, so feeling like he was a hundred years old, Vin rolled over and looked at him.
Vin finally turned over and faced him and Chris blanched at the sight of his lover's face. Vin looked defeated; that was the only word Chris could think of to describe him. Those blue eyes that twinkled with mischief or turned dark with passion, looked as old as any eyes Chris had ever seen. There was an air of weariness about him that was as foreign to Vin as one of Ezra's suits would be.
Chris took another deep breath and tried to say the right words this time. "I was too fucking selfish to listen to you before, but I'm listening now. Why'd you let me do it?"
Vin looked at him with those ancient eyes and shrugged. "Told ya, I missed ya. Figured, I'd take what I could get," he drawled quietly.
Chris was truly puzzled by that. Why would Vin figure that was all he could get from him? Reaching out, he caressed the sharpshooter's cheek. "Vin, the way I treated you, it wasn't right and I'm sorrier than I know how to tell you."
Vin closed his eyes and spoke so quietly, that Chris had trouble hearing him. "Don't matter none. Ain't like I'm some kid never been done like that b'fore."
"Never been done -- Jesus Vin, you mean, I ain't the only one who's treated you that way?" Chris couldn't keep the anger he was feeling at whoever had hurt his lover out of his voice.
Shit! Vin cursed himself silently. Couldn't keep your goddamned mouth shut, could ya Tanner? Now Chris knows ya been used like a cheap whore b'fore. He ain't gonna want nothing to do with ya. The young Texan was determined to get out of there with the tattered remains of his dignity. He wasn't gonna wait for Chris to throw him out.
Chris was startled when Vin abruptly sat. The young Texan winced in pain at the hasty movement and then swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for his pants. "Vin, where the hell you goin'?" Chris demanded.
"Thought I'd skip the been fun and see ya 'round speech," Vin answered tiredly and continued putting his pants on.
"Whatta ya mean, see ya 'round, Vin?" Chris couldn't believe what he was hearing. Did Vin really think that Chris was gonna say get lost now? What kind of bastard did Vin think he was? Shit Larabee, that's a stupid fucking question, Chris snorted derisively at the thought. He thinks you're exactly the same kind o' bastard as whoever did him that way before.
Chris forced himself to speak calmly, when what he really wanted to do was pull Vin into his arms and kiss the hell out of him. Doing what he wanted to do, without considering Vin's feelings were what had started this fucking shit in the first place. "Don't go," he spoke quietly and watched his lover button his pants and begin putting on his shirt, without giving any sign that he'd even heard Chris. "Please," Chris added pleadingly.
"Please." That got Vin's attention. Chris was asking him not to go. Not ordering him to stay, asking. But why? Vin wondered. It was over, wasn't it? Chris would never want him now. Not after what he'd revealed.
Chris saw the uncertainty in Vin's eyes and he held his hand out to the younger man. "Please stay," he whispered imploringly.
Vin sucked in his breath. Shit, shit, shit, what now? Get the hell out of here, while he still had some self respect? Or give in to those green eyes that looked so -- so -- hurt. Was the thought of Vin Tanner leaving, really painful to Chris? Did he really care that much? Oh, he'd said "I love you, Vin", but that was just 'cause Chris was horny and wanted to get laid, wasn't it? Hell, it was all just so damn confusing. Vin stared solemnly at Chris, trying to make up his mind.
Chris still held an open hand out. "Please," he whispered again.
Vin closed his eyes and slowly, hesitantly reached out and put his hand in Chris's. He felt Chris's hand close around his and he opened his eyes to meet Chris's again. "Still ain't sure about stayin' Chris, but I reckon I owe ya hearin' ya out."
Chris nodded gratefully, he didn't care why Vin had agreed to stay, he was just glad the tracker wasn't leaving. Now, all he had to do, was make his lover believe that things would be different.
*************************
Chris held tightly to the warm hand in his, and caressed the back of it with his thumb. "Vin, I ain't never gonna hurt'cha again, you got my word on that," he began quietly and then continued. Let's have another drink and then you can tell me whatever you want to. I promise, I'll listen to ya and never say a word about it after tonight."
Vin nodded wearily, and sat on the bed, and leaned his head back against the wall the bed stood against. He took the drink Chris offered him and sipped it slowly, thinking about what he wanted to tell his lover. Chris lay beside him, and drank his own whiskey and waited for Vin to tell his story.
After a long time, Vin started talking in his quiet drawl. "I was on my own a long time. Didn't have anybody lookin' out for me, got hooked up with some men I wished I never met. I was about fifteen, first time I ever laid with a man. He didn't force me, can't fault 'im for that, but I sure wasn't wantin' to be with anybody for a long time after that. When I was livin' with the tribes and a few times along the trail after that, I didn't get no say. A few times I had a say and it still wasn't much good. First time it was ever any good was with you. Figured I'd found somebody who cared and most o' the time it was good, so I could take the times it wasn't good."
Vin stopped talking and held his cup out to Chris and waited while the older man refilled it. If he noticed how tight Chris's face had become, he didn't say. Vin leaned his head back with his eyes closed, and the drink Chris had poured for him untouched. Chris knew the tracker had more to say, and so waited silently, his heart heavy from the things Vin had already told him.
When the tracker finally spoke again, his words pierced both their hearts. "Thought havin' someone who cared would be a real good thing and it was. It was as good as I coulda hoped for. And then ya went and used me that way, like them others had done. And, I told myself it didn't matter, that I could take it and that ya loved me and that was more important. And, I told myself that every time ya done me that way. And, I swallowed all the hurt and pushed it away. But, I can't do it no more. I don't wanta do it no more. 'Cause right now, I still love ya. But, I'm real scared Chris, that pretty soon, I ain't gonna love ya no more. And then pretty soon after that, I ain't even gonna like ya, no more. And, it ain't nothin' to go from not likin' to hatin'. I don't wanta hate ya, Chris. I'd rather just go back ta just bein' friends, than end up hatin' ya."
Vin took a ragged breath and a long drink from his cup. He didn't feel sorrow or pain. All he felt was tired. He just wanted to finish this and go off somewhere alone, where he could hear the wind in the mountains and maybe get back some of the peace he found there. All that was left was for Chris to make a nice speech and for Vin to say "no hard feelings" and absolve the older man of guilt. Hell, Chris already carried around a bigger load of guilt then any man he'd ever met. No sense Vin Tanner dumping anymore on him. And, he really was glad they'd been together. At least for a little while, he'd known what it was like to have someone who really cared - - even if it had been a lie.
Chris threw back the rest of his drink and sat the cup on the bedside stand. What could he say to make Vin stay? How could he convince the younger man that he was wrong? He couldn't, Chris realized sadly. All he could do was be honest with his lover and then Vin would stay or he would go. And, Chris would let him.
Scrubbing his hand through his hair, Chris sat and and turned sideways, until he was facing the sharpshooter. The pain he saw in those blue eyes was difficult to accept. It was even harder to accept, that he was responsible for it. Chris reached his hand out and cupped Vin's face. The tracker closed his eyes and leaned into Chris's hand.
"Reckon, I fucked up pretty big this time," Chris admitted ruefully and put his hands over Vin's lips to still the protest he could see his lover trying to voice. "No need pretendin' I ain't acted like a selfish bastard. We both know I did."
"Yeah, ya did," Vin confirmed with a wry grin. "I was gonna tell ya, you were right,"
Chris had to smile at that. Vin had always been honest with him and he should have known the tracker wouldn't pull any punches now. Well, Chris thought, here goes. I gotta be honest with Vin - - and with myself. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Chris tried to explain himself so that Vin would understand.
"Ain't been anyone before or since Sarah, made me feel the way she did. Not 'til you," Chris spoke almost harshly. "I wanted you more than I'd wanted anyone but her. And it scared the hell outta me. You're my best friend and you're a man and I wanted you so goddamned bad, it hurt. But, that's not what scared me. I'd go crazy at the thought of losing you, like I lost her. I'd think about some bounty hunter comin' after you for the reward or some two bit gun hand killin' you by mistake and it made me crazy inside. And then I'd see you lyin' in my bed and I'd need to hold you and fuck you and make you mine all over again." Chris paused and closed his eyes and wiped his hand over his face
Ignoring the cup on the night stand, Chris picked up the nearly empty bottle of rye and drained it. Swallowing, he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and began speaking shakily, "Thing is, when I'd feel that way, I'd forget all about what you needed. All I could think of was, I might lose you, like I lost her. Shit, I'm sorry Vin. I shouldn't have done you like that, just because I was scared. Bein' scared is part o' life. But, what I did, ain't. That was me being a selfish fuck. I love you. If you stay, I swear to you, I'll never touch you like that again. It wasn't right and I'm sorrier than I can ever tell you." Chris's voice broke and he turned away from Vin to hide the pain.
Vin's head was reeling. Chris loved him. He'd said it, and not just because he was horny and lookin' to get laid. For the first time in his life, Vin Tanner had someone that he knew loved him. Someone he loved back. Chris loved him, really loved him. All of the bad stuff, the tracker could put aside. He'd never forget it, but it would be like all those other things in his life that he'd endured and left behind. And, he'd seen it in Chris's eyes. The gunslinger meant it when he said, he'd never touch Vin like that again. For the first time since Chris had told him to roll over, his heart didn't hurt.
Reaching out, Vin touched Chris's hand. It was a hesitant feather light touch, but Chris felt it instantly and caught the tracker's hand in his. Still holding tightly to Vin's hand, Chris turned to meet Vin's eyes. "I'm sorry," he said simply.
"Reckon, I shoulda stopped ya the first time," Vin admitted.
Chris let go of Vin's hand and caressed his face. "Yeah, you should've. Vin, you don't deserve to be treated the way I treated you. Don't ever forget that. Looking into Vin's tired eyes, Chris smiled and spoke softly. "Would you get undressed and come back to bed now?"
Vin looked at Chris disbelievingly. After all the bullshit, Chris just wanted to fuck him again? How could he even think of that right now?
Chris knew right away that Vin was angry. The tracker's whole body had stiffened and Chris had seen him blanch and then his face hardened into stone. What had made him angry, Chris was bewildered. "Vin, what's wrong now?" he demanded.
"Yer a real bastard ain'tcha, Larabee?" Vin asked maliciously. "All that shit ya fed me. And, I believed ya. I gotta be the stupidest fuckin' man ever set foot in these parts." Vin struggled to get to his feet, but Chris's strong arms held him in the bed.
"Dammit Vin, what the hell's wrong with you? I thought we were OK, and now you're madder than a cornered bear. What did I do?" Chris's confusion was plain in his voice.
"All you want is me to spread my legs for ya. Well, it ain't gonna happen. Not tonight, not ever again. So go to hell and let me go," Vin demanded angrily.
Chris couldn't believe what he was hearing. Why the hell did Vin think he wanted - - Shit! Chris realized what had happened. Vin had misunderstood him. He had to make it right. He only hoped Vin could hear him. Holding firmly to his lover, Chris tried to soothe the angry man. "Vin, you got it all wrong. I don't wanta fuck you - - well, I do, but not now. I wanted you to take your clothes off, because I wanta hold you. I want to feel your body against mine while we sleep. I just want to be able to feel you. Please Vin, just calm down. I love you and I need you. Please - -"
Chris's words were cut off by a joyful kiss from Vin. The tracker realized how foolish he'd been, the minute he heard Chris's explanation. Larabee eased his hold on the slender arms and let his hands wander in a tender caress of the lithe body in his arms. There was no passion in the kiss they shared or in their wandering hands. There was instead, a mutual tenderness and sharing of love and friendship. Vin allowed Chris to remove his shirt and unbutton his pants. He hastily removed them and Chris pulled his weary lover down into his arms. Vin's head lay on Chris's chest and Chris had both arms wrapped around him.
Arm in arm, they slept, their needs satisfied at last.
THE END