Follows Claimed
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Trilogy, MGM, Mirisch etc and were used without permission. No copyright infringement was intended and no money was made.
English spelling has been used in this story.
Vin heard the key turn with an ominous click as Buck departed. He sank despondently back into the bed. Buck was wrong. He was bound to be wrong. There was no way that Chris Larabee was jealous. He was just disgusted that Vin could lie with another man. That was all.All? It was enough to destroy Vin's world and the tracker with it.
Yet if Chris was appalled by the idea of two men having sex together then why was he not mad with Buck as well? But perhaps he was and Vin had just been the unlucky one of the pair who received the back of Larabee's hand.
It was all so confusing. Desperate hopes and debilitating fears commingled in wild confusion. He wished his damned head would stop pounding so he could think. It was like being caught up in a huge whirlpool. If the damned thing was going to suck him to his death he just wished it would hurry up because he felt absolutely wretched.
Again, he thought about bolting. Buck had taken his trousers and boots, but he could grab a pair of Buck's pants and go barefoot. Well, in theory he could, but those treacherous legs of the previous night still seemed unwilling to support him and his head was spinning so much he doubted he could stand. Why in hell had he broken his rule and drunk so much?
He heard footsteps on the stairs. 'It's only Buck,' he told himself, knowing it to be a lie. He would know Larabee's tread anywhere.
He rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow. 'Yer a wimp, Tanner,' he told himself, but he could not bear to face the gunslinger. 'He's probably just come back to yell at me anyway. Iffen he thinks I'm asleep he might go,' he thought.
The footsteps stopped outside. Vin tensed. The waiting was unbearable. 'Go away! Please go away! I want you to come in, but I can't face ya, Chris. Please go,' he begged silently.
For his part, Chris Larabee was feeling unusually awkward. Everything was happening too fast. It did not seem real. Until a few minutes ago he had never realized that he wanted Vin Tanner and now he knew he needed him with an intensity he had never felt for anyone else. Even the love he had had for his late wife, strong though it had been, paled in comparison with the feelings currently rocking his equilibrium.
He found himself breathing hard. 'Damned stairs!' he thought, but knew that was not true. It was the overwhelming confusion caused by the sudden discovery that he was one of the 'funny cowboys' he and Buck had joked about in the past.
The moment he had laid eyes on the lithe tracker his world had shifted on its axis, but he had not completely understood the nature of that change, though he had recognized was that he had found his other half, someone he trusted absolutely, someone that belonged at his side.
Even his subconscious choice of the expression 'other half' had not warned him. Sure he had occasionally vaguely wondered why a good looking woman like Mary Travis, who clearly was more than a little interested in him, had failed to stir stronger feelings than those of friendship. He had thought that perhaps the love he felt for his dead wife was behind this, but now he knew differently. No, his heart had been taken the moment he looked into a pair of beautiful sky-blue eyes. He had known they had taken his soul, but how could he have been blind to the fact that they had gently purloined his heart as well.
Well, there was no going back now and yet ... and yet what if they were making a mistake. Society said they were, even called it a crime. 'Hell, what did I ever care about what others' thought?' he asked himself, starting to turn the key.
Then he paused again, as another thought assailed him. 'But what about Vin? Does he really understand what he's lettin' himself in for? I don't want to hurt him and yet I could do it so very easily. Buck's told me often enough I ain't easy to live with. Perhaps it'd be better for him if I just walked away and pretended it didn't happen.'
He started to turn away, but knew he could not. No, he and Vin had to at least talk. They could not go on with this issue hanging over them. 'Don't be a damned coward, Larabee,' he admonished himself, 'open the damned door and get it over with.' He reached for the key again.
Tanner heard the movement. 'What the hell is Larabee doing out there?' he wondered.
The key seemed to take an eternity and then the door opened. Chris stepped into the room and looked down at the disordered bed. All that could be seen of the sharpshooter was a mass of disordered curls and a piece of surprisingly creamy shoulder.
"Vin?" Larabee asked tentatively.
There was no response, but Larabee knew Tanner of old. There was little if any chance that the preternaturally aware tracker would remain asleep if someone entered his room. Chris quickly scanned the room to check the location of the mare's leg. It was on the floor by the bed, within the tracker's easy reach. Chris put a boot on it and then reached out and lightly touched the exposed shoulder.
There was no reaction. That convinced the gunslinger that Tanner was awake, as had he been asleep, he would have moved as he woke. "C'mon, Tanner, I know yer awake," he said.
"No, I ain't," Vin muttered, knowing the game was up.
Larabee smiled faintly at that. "Look at me, Tanner," he ordered, his voice carefully neutral.
"Don't got to."
"Yes, you do," Larabee replied, pleased at how firm his voice sounded.
"I-I can't," Vin admitted.
"Why not?" Chris demanded.
"I's shamed," Vin replied, his voice muffled by the pillow.
"No need to be, cowboy. Buck told me what happened."
Chris' voice held no condemnation and that further added to the tracker's confusion. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean ... I didn't ... aw hell." He broke off as he felt the tears welling up.
"Vin, look at me or I'll have to pull ya out of that damned bed," Larabee said, more sharply than he had intended. He had heard the sob in the tracker's voice and was never good with tears.
Slowly Vin complied, rising to his knees and turning in the bed, but keeping his head down to shield his face with his disheveled curls.
Larabee put out a hand and raised his chin. The white and unhappy tear-stained face wrung his heart. "Hell, cowboy, ya look like shit," he said gently.
"F-Feel like it too," Vin confessed. Chris knew for the tracker to make such an admission he had to feel very poorly. Indeed, his white face was actually taking on a green hue as the gunslinger watched. Apprehension, fear and hangover had combined and the sharpshooter's stomach was churning wildly.
"Aw hell! Chris, I think I'm ... I think I'm ..."
Fortunately, Larabee was already grabbing for the basin beside the bed and just managed to get it in time before Vin began to vomit.
He climbed onto the bed beside Vin and supported the heaving shoulders, while rubbing his friend's back comfortingly. At last, an exhausted tracker was reduced to dry retching and then sagged back helplessly against him.
As he held the slight, shaking frame, Larabee was surprised by the wave of commingled protectiveness and possessiveness that flooded over him. Vin Tanner was a deadly shot with a rifle and no slouch with a knife, six-gun or his fists, but the equally lethal gunslinger knew he would dare any odds to safeguard this man. 'He's mine!' he thought exultantly.
Finally, Vin recovered himself enough to whisper, "Th-Thank ya, Chris."
"That's okay, Vin."
"I ain't never goin' to drink whiskey again."
"So it's no use offering you 'the hair of the dog' then?"
"Hell, cowboy, that weren't no dog, it was a fuckin' rabid wolf, I reckon," Vin responded, with a flash of his usual wry humour.
Chris could not help grinning. "Well, whatever it was, it got ya good, cowboy."
A sudden series of sharp raps on a nearby door startled both men. Then a shrill voice called," Chris, it's Billy! Are you in there?"
'Shit! Not now,' Larabee, swore under his breath. He decided to ignore the child.
However, the boy knocked even harder and started to shout, "CHRIS! CHRIS, ARE YOU THERE?"
'Hell, he'll rouse the whole damn corridor,' Chris thought. Apart from that consideration, the lad's voice sounded urgent so he called out reluctantly, "I'm along in Buck's room. What do ya want, Billy?"
"Ma, says to tell you she's ready for church."
'Damn!' Chris thought, 'Why in hell did I let her talk me into goin'?' He reluctantly climbed off the bed and opened the door.
"Ma's got a great dinner cooking for afterwards," Billy enthused, "and I wondered if you'd like to go fishing this afternoon. Ma said I could go if you'd take me."
Well, Larabee knew he had committed himself to church, but neither dinner nor fishing had previously been mentioned. That was Mary Travis all over, she was a mighty fine looking woman, but she was an organizer. Give her an inch and she'd take a mile. And Chris Larabee was not a man to allow anyone to order his life at any time.
He wanted to tell the boy to relay his apologies to his mother. After all, the very independent Mrs Travis was more than capable of finding her own way to church, as she did every other Sunday morning, but hesitated to do so. Mary would expect, nay demand a reason, and he did not have one, or at least not one that she would accept. If Vin had been in a life or death situation it would have been different, but to stay with the tracker because he had a hangover was asking for trouble. There was no way Mary would see that as reasonable and she would see that the gunslinger's odd behaviour was given a full public airing. He knew only too well that she was a forceful woman who spoke her mind, regardless of the consequences, and that had it not been for her sex, someone would have likely shot her years ago.
"Okay, Billy, tell her I'll be along in a few minutes." He was tempted to add "but say I can't make it to lunch", but knew he ought to make his own excuses.
However, instead of leaving, the boy hovered on the threshold. "Yuk! It stinks in here!" he announced wrinkling his nose. He peered into the room and spotted Vin. "Have you been spewing, Vin? You look awful," he commented candidly.
Larabee hurriedly clasped the boy's shoulders and turned him about. "Get goin', Billy," he ordered. "Vin doesn't feel like visitors at present."
"Why isn't Nathan here? Do you want me to fetch him?" the boy offered helpfully.
"No, thank you, Billy, he's just got a bit of a hangover."
"Has he?" the child responded, full of interest. "My mother says that men who can't hold their liquor ..."
But what the words of wisdom he was about to impart were will never be known, because Larabee gave him a shove and said, "Just go and give your mother my message, Billy." Then he shut the door firmly behind him.
Meanwhile, Vin had been listening unhappily to the exchange. He knew he should be grateful that Chris had even come back to check on him after seeing him with Buck, that apparently he had not completely destroyed their friendship by his stupidity, but all he could feel was helpless jealousy. Surely Mary Travis could spare him Chris for a few minutes when he felt so ... felt so ... "Bowl!" he gasped desperately.
Again, only the quick reflexes of the gunslinger enabled him to get the bowl to his friend in time. He wrapped a supporting arm around Vin once more, but this time, instead of leaning in to him, Vin stiffened and tried to pull away. Even through his nausea, the tracker had determined not to make a fool of himself again and embarrass them both.
Finally, what came up was bile and Vin sighed with relief as his stomach calmed. "'m okay, now," he whispered. "You'd better go. Miz Travis'll be waitin' for ya." Even as he spoke, his heart cried, "Don't go, cowboy. I need ya here. Please don't go," but Tanners do not beg and he managed not to voice his pleas.
"Yeah, I'd better. I'll see ya later, cowboy," the gunslinger replied evenly. Relief and sharp disappointment mixed oddly within him. Perhaps Buck was wrong. Vin did not seem to want him to stay. It was probably for the best, as a relationship of that kind would be difficult in that it would have to be clandestine, but then why the hell did he feel so bad at the tracker's rejection?
Left alone, Vin flopped back onto the bed. He felt absolutely exhausted, wrung out. 'At least ya ain't lost Chris as a friend,' he told himself, but it was not enough and the dashing of the foolish hopes that Buck had aroused hurt so much. Hot tears began to course their way down his cheeks.
Meanwhile a self-satisfied Buck Wilmington had moved out onto one of the boardwalk chairs usually frequented by the tracker and the gunslinger. He felt very pleased with himself and very happy for his two friends. 'This is just what Chris needs,' he thought. 'He might pretend he hasn't got a heart, but he needs someone to care for and Vin loves him.'
He rocked back on the chair and pulled his hat down to shade his eyes from the slowly climbing sun. However, like any of the peacekeepers, he was still alert to his surroundings and did not miss anything going on around him. He was idly contemplating some young ladies, in their Sunday best, hurrying towards the church, and wondering whether he would find favour in the eyes of the pretty red-head if he joined the congregation, when he heard a woman's voice.
"We're going to be late. I hate having to go in once the service has started."
"I'm sorry, Mary."
Chris' voice? Buck's chair came down with a jolt on all four legs. What was Larabee doing with Mrs Travis? Somehow, he managed to tip his hat in greeting, as they hurried past him. Then he lurched to his feet and went quickly in search of the tracker.
Reaching his room, he tapped lightly. "Vin, it's Buck," he warned before entering. He did not want to find himself facing a mare's leg.
The room frankly stunk. Wilmington registered the unemptied bowl on the bedside table, but all his interest was on Vin, who was pale and shaky. "What happened?"
"I's been sick."
"I can see that. But what about Chris? Didn't he come up to see ya?"
"Y-Yeah, but ... but he had to go," Vin replied sadly.
"What?" Wilmington could not believe it. He knew he was right about Chris' feelings for Vin and he had thought he had got through to the stubborn, mule-headed bastard, but apparently not.
Hearing the anger in Buck's voice, Vin hurried to defend Chris. "Ya see he'd promised to go to church with Miz Travis and he's havin' lunch with her and prob'ly goin' fishin' with Billy this afternoon."
"Ya mean he just up and left ya like this?"
"He was nice to me. He got me the bowl and he held onto me when I was bein' sick."
"Yeah, and then he walked out on ya! Damn him!" He felt like storming down to the church and dragging Larabee right back to where he belonged.
"Please don't be mad with him, Buck. I don't want ya fallin' out with him. He don't have to want me."
"Yeah, but he does! I'm sure he does! He just won't admit it. I'm sorry, Vin."
"Ya ain't got anythin' to be sorry for, Buck. Ya tried to help me and I'm grateful. At least he ain't still mad with me and that's the most important thin' really. I s'pose I was stupid. I couldn't really 'spect someone like him to want the likes of me."
Buck sighed. Sure Vin was not looking or feeling his best, but he had never met anyone who undervalued himself so much. Hell, if anyone could tempt to change his sexual orientation, it would be Vin Tanner. The man was beautiful and seemed totally oblivious of that fact. He broke off his musing as he realized that Vin was getting awkwardly off the bed. "Woah, pard," he said, grabbing Vin's arm to steady him, "don't ya think ya'd better rest up a mite longer."
"I's feelin' a bit better now I's been sick, Bucklin. I thought I'd go for a ride and clear my head."
Buck did not attempt to argue. He knew that when Vin Tanner was upset about anything, he always sought solace in the wilds. "I'll walk down to the livery with ya."
A few minutes later, he watched Vin riding out and then turned purposefully away. He was not going to just let this pass. The gunslinger was going to know just what Buck Wilmington thought of his treatment of Vin.
+ + + + + + +
Chris Larabee glanced up at the sun. It was about 4pm by his reckoning. He was hot, tired, hungry and, above all, worried. Where on earth could Vin be? He was all too aware that if Tanner did want to be found he could disappear without trace. He ought to give up. A sensible man would have conceded defeat hours before. 'Yer too damned stubborn for yer own good,' he mentally chided himself.
Then suddenly Larabee's senses all seemed to come inexplicably wide-awake. The late afternoon sun was pleasantly warm on his body. The sweet scent of the grass and wildflowers surrounded him and he heard the tinkling of the nearby stream and the twitter of numerous birds. And before him stood the tracker, looking at him apprehensively with huge sky-blue eyes, set in the most beautiful face the gunslinger had ever seen.
"I've been lookin' for ya," Chris said casually, carefully masking his racing emotions. All he wanted to do was throw the tracker on his back and show him exactly how much he meant to him, but he knew that he had to handle this right. Vin was too emotionally vulnerable for him to risk upsetting him by a precipitous action. He wanted to be certain that Buck was right, that the sharpshooter wanted this as much as he did.
However, Vin did not make it easy for him, for he was every bit as uncertain as Larabee that his affections were returned. So the tracker did not move, did not speak. He waited silently for Chris to continue.
"I've been searchin' for ya since that damned interminable church service finished."
Vin did not know what 'interminable' meant, but he did not care. What mattered to him was that the gunslinger had said since the service finished. His heart leapt. "D-Didn't ya go to Miz Travis' place afterwards?" he asked hesitatingly.
"Of course, not! I hadn't agreed to that. It was bad enough havin' to leave ya to go to that service, but I'd promised and I didn't want to stir Mrs Travis up. After it finished, I went straight to find ya. And ya'd done one of yer damned disappearin' acts."
"But I told Buck I was just goin' for a ride to clear my head. Didn't he tell ya?"
"He told me all right and he told me lots of things I didn't want to hear. Hell, if it had been anyone else I would've shot him."
"And ... And n-now that ya've found me what ... what ..." Vin broke off and flicked his tongue nervously over his dry lips.
That was it. Larabee could resist no longer. He reached for the sharpshooter and pulled him against him. "C-Chris," Vin gasped, caught off-guard by the sudden move. Larabee's lips descended, stifling any further comment. Stunned, the tracker stood unresisting, as Larabee's tongue pushed its way into his mouth and began a teasing investigation of that honeyed cavern.
"Are ya mine, Vin?" the gunslinger murmured.
"R-Reckon," the husky voice replied, sending little shivers down Larabee's spine.
The gunslinger was in ecstasy, as he felt the tracker gradually relaxing against him. This was better than a stuffy room. This was the sort of place the beautiful tracker belonged and this was where he would make him his. He intended to leave the sharpshooter in no doubt about his feelings, by the time Chris Larabee had finished with him, the tracker would be in no doubt that the gunslinger had claimed him for his own.
He hooked a leg behind Vin's and gently lowered him into the long dry grass without breaking the kiss. Straddling Vin's slender hips, he began to unbutton the tracker's shirt. He eased the garment off the creamy shoulders and began to kiss his way down Vin's taut throat.
"Yeah, yer all mine, Tanner," he breathed, between kisses.
He found the sensitive junction of neck and shoulder and began to nibble and suck. Vin started to writhe beneath him. "Hell, c-cowboy, not there! It t-tickles," the tracker gasped.
"Tactical error," Larabee whispered, grinning evilly. "Ya shouldn't have told me that." He redoubled his teasing efforts.
The tracker tried to push him off, but the gunslinger captured both his wrists, pinned them above his tousled head and continued with the tender torment. Vin wriggled against him in a futile attempt to escape and Larabee felt himself growing rock hard.
'Very ticklish!' he thought in delight. The stoic tracker was going to have trouble maintain his usual poise by the time the gunslinger had finished with him. Smiling wickedly to himself as he looked at Vin's straining arms, he flicked his tongue down into an armpit.
Vin giggled involuntarily and arched his back in an attempt to dislodge the larger man. "Uh-huh, cowboy," Chris scolded teasingly, "ya ain't gettin' rid of me, not now, not ever."
He moved his attentions to a small brown nipple, surrounded by a few wisps of hair. He flicked his tongue over it and then sucked. Vin relaxed a little.
Then suddenly releasing Vin's wrists, Chris ran his hands down the tracker's sides. "Ah! No! <giggle> No! <giggle> Don't!" Vin was thrashing around laughing and protesting helplessly, as he tried to bat Chris' hands away.
"Put yer hands back above yer head and I'll stop," Chris said.
"I can't!" Vin protested.
"Yes, ya can! Ya want to please me, don't ya?"
"No! Yes! Just don't tickle."
"Me? Tickle?" Larabee questioned, in a voice of overdone innocence. "I thought ya trusted me, Vin."
"With my life, cowboy, but I ain't so sure about other parts of me."
"Hurry up, Tanner, I ain't got all day."
Vin glared at him, but raised his arms.
Chris immediately put a hand on each of Vin's hips to hold him and inserted his tongue into Vin's belly button.
"An, Chrisssss!" Tanner hissed, bucking his hips.
"Keep still, Vin," Chris ordered, tightening his grip and moving his tongue in a swirling motion.
"Aw hell!" He started to reach for Chris' wrists to push him off.
"Hands!"
"But ..."
"Hands!"
"Ya don't play fair!" Vin complained, raising his arms again nevertheless.
"Good boy," Larabee said irritatingly and patted the tracker's groin.
Vin gasped and pushed against his hand.
The gunslinger began to slowly unbutton the tracker's fly. "Hurry up damn it!" Vin complained.
"Language!" Larabee reprimanded primly, in his best school marm voice.
Vin could cheerfully have swatted him one. The gunslinger was exhibiting an unexpectedly playful side and the sharpshooter was getting desperate at the teasing.
Smiling to see, Vin was clad only in a loose breechclout beneath his trousers, Larabee pushed the material gently aside, freeing Vin's straining penis. Chris lightly flicked his fingers across the tip. "Someone's in too much of a hurry," he observed casually, before turning his attention to peeling Vin's trousers down to his knees.
He lowered his head again and ran his tongue ever so lightly up Vin's shaft. The tracker writhed and gasped. "Damn ya, Larabee, yer killin' me," he groaned.
"Not yet, but I'm about to. Onto yer stomach, Tanner!"
Apprehensively, Vin obeyed. Chris could see the tenseness in his back muscles. He began to massage the tracker's back, gradually working his way down to the enticingly rounded buttocks.
He ran a finger lightly along Vin's cleft, eliciting a moan from the tracker. "I want to take ya, Vin. Are ya okay with that?"
Vin swallowed convulsively. "Guess so," he ventured nervously.
"Don't worry, Vin. Buck gave me somethin' he said would help." He did not bother to add that Wilmington had also gone on to say scathingly that he doubted Larabee would ever have the sense or guts to get the tracker into a position where he would need to use it.
Vin gave a startled yelp as something surprisingly cold landed on his skin and an intruding finger began to push its way into him. "Try to relax, Vin," Larabee admonished gently. "It'll hurt more if ya don't."
Vin did not like the sound of that. 'Tanners ain't cowards,' he reminded himself, but he could not help feeling that one of them seemed to be. He bit down on his right forearm and willed himself to keep still.
Chris eased the finger in and out and then added a second, murmuring reassurances to the tracker and allowing him time to adjust. Then he added a third finger. "Are ya ready, Vin?" he asked, his voice tight as he struggled to keep himself under control.
Vin's mind screamed, 'NO!' However, somehow, he managed to rasp, "Yeah." 'Hell yer stupid, Tanner,' he thought disparagingly. 'Ya wanted Larabee, but ya didn't really think about what that would involve, did ya?'
Then there was pain as Chris pushed past the ring of muscle. Vin bit down hard on his arm and tasted blood as he fought to stifle a scream of pain.
"Okay, cowboy?"
Vin could hear the concern in Larabee's voice and knew that if he asked Chris would stop. Sure he would find it difficult, but he would stop. However, Tanner could not do that to him.
Chris settled into a gentle rhythm, gradually picking up the pace and going deeper. To Vin's relief, he found the pain subsiding a bit. It was still there, but manageable. 'I s'pose I could get used to this,' he thought doubtfully. Hell, if it meant pleasing Chris he was sure he could.
Then Larabee gave a harder thrust and Vin was engulfed in a rush of pleasure/pain the likes of which he had never experienced before. He ejaculated hard. "God, cowboy, what the hell was that?" he gasped, as soon as he had breath to speak.
"The spot I was lookin' for," an equally breathless gunslinger replied.
Both lay quietly for a few minutes, recovering and thinking about what had happened.
Vin could not remember ever feeling so happy. It had been wonderful. Sure that damned Larabee had teased him until he was aching with need and the actual penetration had hurt, but then ... Wow! When Chris had hit whatever that spot inside him was ... Well, he did not have words to describe it. And, now even better, he was snuggled against Chris' chest. He had not realized how nice it could be to lie in someone's arms. No, not 'someone's', Chris' Larabee's arms. Hell, he could recall only too vividly, the shock he had had that morning when he awoke to find an unknown man holding him.
That thought unsettled him. How could he have behaved like that? And now here he was letting Chris do whatever he wanted! He remembered Chris calling him a slut. 'Oh, God, what if Chris only wanted someone easy for a bit of fun? Where in hell does that leave our friendship now?' he thought unhappily.
He opened his eyes. Larabee was frowning down at him. Vin's heart missed a beat. He loved Chris so much, but it appeared that the gunslinger did not return the sentiment. "Ch-Chris? What's wrong?"
"I was just wonderin' about somethin'," Larabee said, his voice serious.
"What?" the tracker asked apprehensively.
"Well, Buck's got quite a reputation as a lover, at least by his own account, and I was wonderin' how I compared to him."
Vin's heart sank. How could he make Chris understand that what had happened with Buck, whatever it was, meant nothing? Larabee had his whole heart and had done from the moment they first locked eyes as they went to save Nathan. But how could he convince Chris of that? He pictured himself explaining, 'Chris, I love ya. I don't know how I ended up in Buck's bed and I can't even remember what we did.' Hell, Chris would not believe that. It sounded damned ridiculous.
However, he knew he had to say something. Chris was clearly waiting for him to speak. Taking a deep breath, Tanner stammered, "I wish ... I wish I hadn't ... I didn't mean to sleep with Buck. I didn't want ... but I must have said yes. It wasn't his fault. It was mine," he added hurriedly lest Larabee be come angry with Wilmington.
He hung his head unhappily, unwilling to watch Larabee's reaction. He felt a tear trickling down his face and raised a hand to scrub it away.
Chris looked at the tracker. He felt a twinge of guilt. Never having taken a man before, and hoping that doing so had not harmed his all-important friendship with the tracker, he had felt somewhat awkward about how to treat Vin after what they had enjoyed. In asking his question, he had hoped to lighten the situation, so that if Vin chose, they could both treat what had happened as a good joke and never allude to it again. Not that Larabee wanted it to be the last time they had sex, for as far as he was concerned he loved Vin, but he had to give Vin the chance to cry off gracefully if the sharpshooter so wished.
When he posed the question, he had expected the tracker to retort cheekily that he would never rival Buck Wilmington, but clearly he had hit a nerve and he realized Vin was most upset.
He reached out and put a hand on Vin's shoulder. "Vin, as ya say ya slept with Buck, but he told me that's all ya did."
"Huh?" Vin raised swimming eyes and looked at him in confusion.
"Ya only slept with him. Ya didn't have sex."
"But he said ... This mornin', he said somethin' about ... about ... my havin' enough. It sounded like we ... We must have," he finished regretfully.
"Buck said you didn't and he doesn't lie to me, Vin, at least not on anythin' important," he hurriedly amended, knowing he could be easily challenged on such a sweeping statement.
"But ..."
"Vin, he set us both up and I suppose we should be mad at him, but I for one feel grateful towards him. He knew me better than I knew myself. I don't know how I could have been so blind as not to realize that I love ya."
"Ya love me?" Vin whispered disbelievingly.
"Of course, I do! Hell, I reckon I fell for ya the moment I saw ya." He grinned and added, "I dunno what that says about my taste, but yer stuck with me, cowboy, if ya want me."
"If! Vin could not trust himself to speak. He flung himself into Chris arms and clung to him as if there was no tomorrow.
+ + + + + + +
Some hours later, the pair had just finished stabling and feeding their horses. "What do ya want to do now, Chris?" Vin asked. He did not care where they went as long as he could be with the gunslinger, but knew that Larabee had not eaten since breakfast.
"This!" Larabee replied and pulled him into his arms, seeking his lips. Vin melted against him. Both were so preoccupied that neither heard a soft footfall.
They broke apart suddenly, as a voice said casually, "So old Uncle Buck was right, wasn't he?" There was Buck Wilmington grinning from ear to ear.
"Guess he has to be occasionally," Larabee drawled.
"Well, I'm ready for that bottle of whiskey now," Buck announced briskly, "and I guess ya've got a little celebratin' to do."
"I ain't drinkin' that rot gut no more," Vin said, "but I guess we owe ya."
"Ya certainly do, pard, and I'm ready for payment in full. C'mon! And later ya can tell me all about yer day."
With that the scoundrel grabbed the startled tracker by the arm and headed out of the livery, jerking Vin after him. A grinning Chris Larabee followed. "Yeah, I'm sure I'll end up shootin' ya one day, Wilmington, but I guess yer safe today, he said.
The End
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