Vin took a long pull from the bottle of whiskey, then stretched back out in the tub. It felt good to just lay there, lazily watching the clouds of steam rise up around him, listening to the soft slap of the water as it lapped gently around his glistening body. He closed his eyes as the whiskey burned its way down his throat, savoring the feel of the searing heat, welcoming it, as it took his mind off his troubles, for the moment at least.He jerked awake at the sound of raucous laughter coming from the curtained-off partition next to his. "Buck," he said under his breath, immediately recognizing the boisterous voice of the mustached gunslinger. 'Must be washin' off the trail dust, too,' he thought to himself with a shake of his head. It had been a hard week on the trail for Josiah, him and Buck, searching every piss ant little town for Ella, never stopping for more than a couple hours of rest at a time. He was bone weary, and knew the others were too.
He got out of the tub, now filled with cooling, grimy water and dried off hurriedly, then dressed in the clean change of clothes he had brought with him to the bath house. He walked outside into the crisp fall air, looking around at the bustling town he had come to know so well. Stepping into the dusty street, he headed for his wagon, deciding to by-pass the saloon. After all that time on the trail with Buck and Josiah, he just wanted to be alone. Glad not to run into any other members of the seven, he slipped into the cool darkness of his covered wagon to rest and think about his next move.
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Chris stared at the white-washed ceiling of Nathan's room at the clinic, trying to make sense of the jumble of thoughts whirling through his head. Had it only been a week since he'd been at Ella's, ready to settle down with her? It already seemed like a life-time ago.
He closed his eyes, trying to block out the scattered images, but it didn't help. They flashed in front of him, burning like a brush fire. He saw Mary, standing on the boardwalk, handing him Ella's letter, looking so hurt, so lost. He'd looked at her sadly, wishing he could say something, offer her some measure of comfort. But he had nothing to give to the pretty blond widow. He'd just sat on that boardwalk, feeling like a worn, dried up piece of leather. Seeing everything with agonizing clarity, but feeling nothing. Nothing that is, until Vin had ridden back into town, back to him. He'd stared at the tracker grimly, fearing his first words. Would he condemn Chris, curse him for shutting him out and turning his back on him and the rest of the seven? Or would he say nothing, just eye him with contempt, then continue on his way down the walkway, loping with that easy gait of his?
But instead, he'd done something that surprised Chris. He'd talked to him, told him about Ella, sounding just like he had, everyday, in the two years he had known him. Just like nothing had changed between the two of them. But then, something had passed over his face, closing it off. He'd looked like he had wanted to say something to Chris, but then he had turned and walked away. It got fuzzy then, like when he had been on that weekend bender in Purgatorio right before Buck and JD had come for him. He'd stared at Vin's retreating back, feeling so sad, so much pain, the like of which he hadn't experienced since riding up to his burned out ranch house all those years ago. And that feeling had something to do with Vin, when he had turned to walk away from him.
Now, here he was, laying in the clinic, trying to figure out just what is was that was drawing him to Vin. Sure, he'd had feelings for the sharpshooter, just like he cared about the rest of the six men that he had come to know over the last few years. Friendship. Kinship, maybe even a special bond.
'Quit bullshittin' yourself Larabee!' he cursed. 'It's somethin' more and you know it! Now if we were talkin' about Buck, that would be friendship. But it's always been a little different with Vin.' And that was it, exactly. There was something different about the sturdy, yet shy tracker. He cared more about Vin than he did about any living person, and it scared the hell out of him to admit it to himself like he just did. He opened his eyes and stared out the window. The sun was setting, and he knew Vin would be back at the clinic, to talk to him, just like he'd promised. What the hell was he supposed to say to him?
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Vin walked to Nathan's clinic, booted feet hitting the steps as the last few rays of the sun fell behind the horizon. He stood in front of the door, hand on the knob, hesitating before he went in. 'What am I doin' here?' He asked himself that question plenty of times today, but he'd never been able to come up with an answer. But still he was here, because he'd promised Chris he would. And Tanners always kept their word.
Just as he worked up the courage to push open the door, it suddenly swung open from the other side, emitting the startled face of Nathan Jackson.
"Vin!" he shouted in surprise. "I was just on my way to meet up with Josiah and get some supper. Chris wants to go back to his room, and I said it was okay. Can you help him out?"
"Yeah, you go on, Nate," Vin said. "I'll help him over there."
"Thanks Vin, see you later," Nathan said and disappeared rapidly down the steps.
Vin stepped into the room, his bright eyes finding Chris immediately.
"Hey," Chris said, looking up from the book he was reading, capturing Vin in a piercing aqua gaze. "Thanks for comin'."
Vin shrugged, trying to appear much more casual than he was feeling about being alone in the small room with Chris. Close quarters with Chris had never bothered him before, but now, it was almost stifling in the room with Chris. His breath was coming in quick spurts and he was anxious to put some space between the gunslinger and himself.
"Nathan said you want to go back to your room?" he asked, thinking only about getting outside, into the open air and away from this room.
"Yeah," Chris replied as he folded back a corner of the page and shut the volume. He set the tiny book aside and eased off his black clad legs off the bed.
"Need some help?" Vin asked, coming around to steady Chris as he stood.
"Thanks pard," Chris said as he struggled to his feet. Though he was recovering quickly, the healing gunshot wound still left him a little woozy and weak. He took a tentative step toward to door, pleased when he did not falter. Confident that he was stronger than just a few hours before, he walked toward the door. Vin stayed a step behind, sure that Chris could hear the hammering of his heart that the closeness with the older man had brought on. He was confused and even a little scared about the reaction, but he faithfully followed behind the injured man, determined that he would make it to his room at the boardinghouse unscathed.
Chris was breathing hard by the time the two men entered Chris's room. Vin began to regret his anxiousness to get out of Nathan's clinic with Chris, when he realized that Chris's room was even smaller and now the gunslinger would want to continue their discussion from earlier today in the narrow confines of the room. He needed whiskey if he was ever going to get through this.
As if reading his mind, Chris pulled out an almost full bottle of the liquor from underneath his wash basin. "Medicinal purposes," he said slyly, grinning at Vin ferally as he uncorked the bottle and drank thirstily from it. He thrust the bottle toward Vin, sliding down onto the bed as he watched the tracker take a long swallow of the fiery liquid.
"Tastes good, don't it?" he asked roughly.
"Yeah, it does," Vin agreed.
"Sit down Vin, I wanta talk to you," Chris said, reaching for the bottle again.
"All right," Vin said warily, easing down into the chair near the window.
"Pretty far, ain't ya?" Chris intoned flatly. "Hell, I ain't gonna bite ya Vin," he chortled
"Didn't figure you would, Larabee," Vin answered back. "But I'm just fine over here."
"Gonna make passin' this bottle back and forth a little hard with you all the way over there Vin," Chris reasoned. "My aim's a little off," he said wryly, gesturing at the bandage that covered a large portion of his upper body.
"Hell," Vin muttered under his breath. 'Don't know what the big deal is,' he said to himself. He got up and dragged the chair over near Chris and reseated himself, reaching for the bottle.
He swallowed the whiskey and got comfortable in the chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. On the surface, it looked like any other day. Two friends, relaxing over a bottle of whiskey and some conversation. But Vin knew different, and so did Chris. What the two men said to each other would affect the future of the seven. And there was nothing normal or relaxed about that.
Chris took the bottle from Vin's hand and gulped down two big swallows, then leaned back onto the bed, back resting against the two plump pillows, propped against the wooden headboard. He stared straight ahead, quiet for so long that Vin began to think he'd forgotten he was in the room with him. But then he spoke.
"She killed 'em Vin."
"I know," he answered back sorrowfully.
The gunslinger pulled his knees up to his chest suddenly, crushing his chest toward them, burying his face in the space between his bent legs. "What kind of a man am I Vin?" he choked out in an anguished voice.
"I slept with the woman that killed my family! She had their blood on her hands and I was gonna live at her ranch like some prize stud!" His hands, clenched into fists at his side, moved up quickly and clutched at his short, blond hair. "God Vin, how could I have been so blind?" he moaned piteously.
Vin walked over to Chris's side, wanting to offer the man comfort, but unsure of what to do. This was new territory for him and he didn't want to say or do the wrong thing. He perched one hip onto the mattress, sitting lightly near the distraught man, and reached out a hand, touching Chris's forearm.
The older man jerked slightly at the faint touch, looking up to stare at Vin morosely. "I've been so stupid Vin," he whispered wretchedly. "I thought things could be like they were all those years ago when Ella and I were together. It was so easy, Vin, being with Ella again. Made the hurt go away. Even made me forget about Sarah and Adam for a while." He looked at Vin with pained green eyes.
"I played right into her hands." A bitter chuckle burst from his pursed lips. "Bareback Larabee. God, I get sick even thinkin' about the things I did with that bitch. She must have had a good laugh, me actin' like some stupid kid, fallin' for her like that."
"Chris, you ain't stupid," Vin whispered softly, stroking down his forearm. He grasped his hand unconsciously and squeezed it comfortingly. "Ella wanted ya and she had it all planned out. Fooled lots 'a folks."
"But not you," Chris stated forlornly. "And I treated you real bad, Vin. I was wrong about Ella and I'm sorry for the things I said to you."
"I know ya are cowboy," Vin replied, softening toward the older man at seeing his distress. Now was not the time to go holding a grudge. Chris was hurting too badly, feeling the loss of his family all over again after Ella had reopened those old wounds.
The gunslinger looked down at the mattress, where his hand and Vin's lay entwined. Then he looked back up at Vin, arching an eyebrow at the former bounty hunter in surprise.
"Sorry," Vin said, quickly drawing his hand away in embarrassment.
"No, no, it's all right," Chris reassured, grabbing for Vin's hand, recapturing it in his own. "Felt kinda good." He squeezed the flesh tightly together. "Feels real good, like ya care, Vin." He gazed back at Vin with an unreadable expression on his face. "Do you care Vin?"
The sharpshooter flicked his gaze to Chris, even as he felt the blush shoot up his neck, burning up onto his face. He tried to look away, but Chris pulled on their two hands, and he was thrown slightly off balance, colliding with the hard planes of the gunslinger's chest. He wanted to look away, to push away from the man, but he lay on him, staring into his green eyes, transfixed.
"Vin?" Chris said, more of a breath than a question.
"Yeah?"
"Do you care?"
"I care," Vin said hoarsely, and in the next instant, Chris swooped forward and crushed his lips into Vin's.
The younger man reared back from the kiss as if struck. "What the hell was that for?" he demanded, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. He noticed Chris's was still holding his hand, and he yanked it free, backing away from the bed.
Chris saw he was heading for the door and stumbled off the bed, determined to intercept him. Despite his injury, he took two long strides and got to the door just behind of Vin, reaching out to slam it shut with a heavy hand after the tracker had pulled it open. He stood tall, leaning against the door, effectively blocking the room's only exit.
Vin's blue eyes blazed into Chris's. "Let me outta here! Now!" he yelled.
"No," Chris replied evenly. "Not 'til you've calmed down and we talk about this."
"Ain't nothin' to talk about," Vin shot back, trying to push Chris out of the way. But the older man refused to budge.
"Vin, we can do this the hard way, or the easy way. Just give me a minute, and then, if you still want to, you can go."
Vin made one half-hearted attempt to pry Chris away from the door, then he threw up his hands in disgust. "Fine, you wanna talk to me, go ahead," he said curtly, walking a few paces away. He came to rest against the wall by the window, crossing his arms and looking back at Chris defiantly.
"You willin' to hear me out?" Chris asked, advancing on the younger man slowly.
"Told ya I would," Vin retorted.
"Good," Chris said smoothly, as he moved to stand a hair's breadth away from the tracker. "'Cause I want you to hear every word."
Vin shivered at Chris's silky tone, his heart skipping a beat as the older man licked his lips. Those same lips that had kissed him just minutes ago. Vin's own mouth burned at the memory of that kiss, those full lips pressing so snugly against his. His heart lurched with a strange sensation and he suddenly felt dizzy, as if he wasn't getting enough air. He crumpled against the wall, coming dangerously close to collapsing onto the hardwood floor. But a steadying hand was there to help him.
"You okay Vin?" Chris asked with concern.
"Y-yeah, think I just need to sit down for a minute," he answered thickly.
"Think that can be arranged," Chris said coyly, as he led the younger man to the chair and gently eased him down onto it. "Stay there, I'll get you some water," Chris ordered.
"Okay," Vin said weakly. 'What the hell's wrong with me?' he wondered in confusion.
Chris returned with a full cup and he drank the water down greedily. "Thanks pard."
"Anytime," Chris answered. ''Feeling better?"
"Yeah, I'll just be leavin' now," Vin said, scrambling up to leave.
"Hold on cowboy, just sit down," Chris commanded, pressing a firm hand to Vin's chest. "Rest for a minute, while I talk to you."
"Okay," Vin sighed, leaning back as his head swam. 'Must be from the whiskey or bein' on the trail too long,' he told himself.
"Vin?"
Chris's voice resonated in his ears, sounding far away. He squinted up at the older man, surprised to find him standing over him.
"Yeah?" he replied uneasily.
"I....," Chris began, and then stopped suddenly, mouth gone dry. He had no idea what to say to the younger man. Hell, he didn't even really remember making the move to kiss him. It had seemed like an unseen force was moving his body, propelling him into the tracker, and the next thing he knew, he was kissing the younger man. Which was strange, but pleasurable, all the same. And now, the only thing he knew was that he didn't want Vin to leave. Ever. And that scared him. Were his feelings for Vin like the ones he'd had for Sarah? For Ella? He was all twisted up inside, but he did know one thing. Being with Vin, right now, alone in his small room, felt pretty damn good. And pretty damned right. He'd have time to sort out his feelings later. But for right now, he wanted to make sure Vin stayed right where he was.
He leaned down over the chair, placing his hands on either side of the arms and bent forward, staring at Vin intently. "Vin?" he whispered.
"What?"
Chris brought his face even closer to Vin's. "Before when I kissed you. Did you like it?"
"Did...I....like it?" Vin echoed back, mind in a fog.
"Yeah, did you like it?" Chris asked again, leaning to whisper the question in the tracker's ear, lips so close he almost touched the sensitive flesh.
Vin shuddered, an unexpected flush of pleasure from the near contact coursing through his body. He held his breath, waiting to see what Chris would do next. When the gunslinger did nothing but wait, Vin knew he would have to answer the man before he said another word.
"Yeah, I liked it," he replied in a husky, gravely voice. And he had. Shocked beyond belief at first, he wanted more, yearned to have those lips touch his again, have those strange sparks flow through him at Chris's touch.
The older man smiled at Vin's response and reached for his hand, pulling him to his feet. He stared into Vin's eyes, the sapphire orbs grown large and round with a cornucopia of emotions. He moved closer to Vin, placing his hands on either side of the handsome face.
"Good," he whispered seductively. "Because I'm gonna kiss you again." Then he brought his eager mouth down to Vin's once again, pressing his lips firmly against the younger man's, teasing them into parting slightly for him. He resisted the urge to explore Vin's mouth with his tongue, instead concentrating on the pleasure of the feel of the tracker's soft lips beneath him, the taste of whiskey clinging to them, mingling with the indescribable sweetness of Vin's lush mouth. He breathed in deeply, taking in the clean, outdoorsy smell that was the essence of Vin Tanner. Like leather, horses, sunshine and desert all rolled into one. He ended the kiss, pulling away slightly from the younger man. Vin swayed a little when the contact was broken and Chris steadied him.
"You okay Vin?" he asked breathlessly.
Vin panted, face flushed, eyes shining with desire. He was unable to speak for several seconds, overwhelmed by the feelings Chris's kiss had aroused in him. He'd been kissed by a man before, when he was younger and living in the Indian Village. He'd lain with a couple of the warriors, when they had initiated it, and Vin, being a young white man, living with the Indians, had been forced to comply. He hadn't enjoyed either of the two encounters, and had shied away from sexual relations since that time. Even when he ran away with Charlotte, he hadn't done anything other than kiss her. His head finally cleared and he was able to answer the older man. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied. "Can we do that again?"
The gunslinger reached out a gentle hand to stroke Vin's hair. "We can do it all night if you want," he replied, then captured Vin's lips with his own once more.