October 7, 2000
Disclaimer - What do you think? If you believe I own even one drop of Vin's blood (or other bodily fluid...) then I've got some nice swampland in Florida for you... Thanks to my personal beta reader and happy thought sender, Suzy
Another night in the saloon. Another night playing a mindless game of cards. Another night drinking whiskey 'til he was blind."Hey, Vin, I see Miss Adelaide over there makin' eyes at you," Buck whispered into his ear, giving him a knowing smile and an elbow to the ribs.
Vin glanced over toward the bar and Miss Adelaide, saw the woman's gap tooth smile and grimaced. "I think I'll pass, Buck. I may be drunk, but not that drunk."
"Aw, don't let her looks get to ya, pard', she's real sweet," the ladies' man returned.
"Yeah, looks like she's had lots of sweets," Chris added with a smirk.
"Think I'd just as soon have some more of this whiskey before headin' out. Ain't in the mood for company," Vin said.
"Ain't you had enough yet?" Buck asked, concerned.
"Nope."
Buck looked at Chris then. They'd all tried to get Vin to open up a bit, find out what was bothering the young tracker. For almost a week now, it seemed, Vin had been staying up late, getting drunk. Very unusual for the man that rarely drank more than enough to quench his thirst.
"Vin?" Chris called cautiously, ready to ask once again if there was something they could do.
Vin caught the look in Chris's eyes and started to shake his head. "God dammit! Can't a man get drunk once in a while without y'all turnin' into my fathers?" he exclaimed, pushing his chair away from the table. He grabbed the fullest bottle of whiskey and stood up. "Got better company in my wagon," he muttered as he staggered away from the table.
"You gonna stop him?" Buck asked.
"He's only going to his wagon. He'll be fine in the morning. Always is," Chris replied.
Buck looked like he wanted to say something, but held his tongue, instead finishing his own glass of whiskey before deciding to take up with Miss Adelaide. It was a dirty job, but somebody had to do it.
+ + + + + + +
Vin climbed into the wagon, clutching the fragile bottle to his chest. He looked around the small space he called home and sighed. He kicked two empty whiskey bottles from the previous night aside and made room on his bedroll for himself and the full one.
He knew what was bothering him, what made him drink himself into a stupor. And it was definitely not something he could tell the other guys about. Especially Chris. He was having dreams. Strange dreams. Erotic dreams. For the past week he'd been having them. Each and every night. Dreams vivid enough that he'd wake up with a hard on. Or, with wet, sticky pants. The alcohol cured them, though. Deadened his senses, stopped the dreams. Stopped the cravings for the object of his dream desires. Stopped him from calling out Chris Larabee's name in the middle of the night.
And so, Vin Tanner finished off the bottle of whiskey, barely having the strength to throw it off his bedroll to let it roll across the wagon floor and come to rest next to the others.
+ + + + + + +
Fire. All consuming and all encompassing, the heat covered him from head to toe, permeating each and every pore, hair and skin cell. In another place and time, such heat would drive him to water, diving in head first to douse the flames. But now, when it was Chris Larabee igniting the heat and flames in and on him, he did not want a single drop of water to cool him down, to extinguish the fire.
"God, Chris, you feel so good," he murmured, arching his neck, willing Chris's hot tongue to glide its way downward, taste his salty flesh.
He gasped as the other man suckled the tender skin, dragging his mouth down and over it. His hips bucked upward and ground themselves into Chris's, made their cocks rub against each other. He heard and felt the sigh of hot breath on his neck as Chris responded to the touch.
"Yeah, Vin, want you so bad," Chris whispered in reply, moving his touches downward, rubbing Vin's nipples with his callused hands, stroking the taught belly, spreading his fingers through and around the soft curls of hair on his groin.
Vin responded by wrapping his legs around Chris's waist and positioning his ass next to the older man's cock. "Please, I need you," he whispered.
The blonde was only too happy to oblige, and with a little spit and pre-cum, eased his way into the other man, eliciting satisfied groans from both of them.
They pulled and pushed and tugged and ground into and onto each other, stoking the already furious fires, burning them brighter. Mouths met mouths and tongues and skin, seeking, tasting, marking, until both men reached their peaks and crashed.
+ + + + + + +
Vin woke up groggily, winced as the whiskey's aftereffects made his head and stomach spin. He buttoned up his long johns and cursed silently as he felt the wetness on them.
"Shit, one bottle ain't enough anymore," he swore softly, recalling the latest of his dreams and seeing the results.
Squinting against the sunlight creeping into the wagon through the canvas flaps and seams, he grabbed the rest of his clothing and got dressed, ready to meet the day and forget the night.
Buck and Chris were waiting for him outside the restaurant, steaming mugs of coffee already in hand.
"You're sure up bright and early for a man that went to bed as drunk as he did," Buck remarked.
"Fuck you, Buck," Vin replied, pulling his had down further over his eyes before taking the cup of coffee from the ladies' man.
"So you gonna let us know what's been botherin' you yet?" Chris asked, hoping the off-guard question might get an answer as he pulled out a chair for the tracker.
"Ain't nothin' botherin' me," Vin replied angrily. The same answer every morning. "Nothin' I can't handle."
"Well, at least I can see that it ain't for lack of lovin'," Buck snickered, winking at Vin.
The tracker's eyes shot up and open, questioning Buck with them, wondering what he knew or saw. "What are you talkin' about, Buck?" he practically growled.
"Vin, you ol' dog!" the ladies' man replied. "You got love bites runnin' up and all around that neck of yours!" he laughed, reaching out and touching some of the dark marks. "So who's the lucky lady? Miss Adelaide might be jealous!"
Vin's hands went instinctively to his neck. It hadn't been a dream. It wasn't just a drunken binge. He looked quickly at Chris.
The blonde just smiled at him as he took a sip of his coffee before saying, "Well, Vin? You gonna tell Buck who's been getting lucky with you?"
End