Menage A... Not by Cattraine

Vin Tanner stood in the bedroom doorway, hands clenched into fists, jealousy and something akin to grief twisting his chest. Chris smirked at him from the big king sized bed; Buck sprawled naked beside him, and brought his bottle up for a long swig.

“You coming or going, pard?” he asked, a wicked grin on his handsome face, as he leaned back against the headboard.

Buck winked at him as well, one big hand running lazily along Larabee’s bare thigh. The room stank of male musk and sex.

Vin took a deep breath as he felt something like hope die inside and give way to grief and a simmering anger. He had thought that Chris cared for him, had thought they were simpatico. He had thought Chris had invited him over for something more than a quick fuck. He was wrong, as usual. He swallowed down his anger and squared his shoulders.

He should have known better than to have fallen in love with the man. He lifted his chin proudly, face hot and met Larabee’s gaze squarely. Vin was not, and had never been, a whore, to be passed around like a party favor. He watched Chris’ smirk die into a curious frown as Larabee tilted his head, puzzled by Vin’s silence.

“I’m gone,” Vin answered simply and he turned and walked away, head high.

He pretended he didn’t see the consternation that crossed Larabee’s face as he left. He let the screen door slam behind him and as he walked to his jeep he took deep calming breaths of the cool night air. He looked up at the sea of bright stars over his head, blinked and swallowed hard, forcing the pain down. It was stupid to hurt for a man who did not give a damn. Larabee had his bottle, Buck and Mary Travis anytime he wanted them; he sure as hell wasn’t going to add Vin to his harem.

But still, he had hoped, had had dreams fueled by long hours of seamlessly working together, of fitting into a team for the first time in his life, of weekends spent riding and camping together, of quiet talks. Despite himself he had fallen hard for the laconic blond. Well, that was done now. Time to shake the dust off his boots. Six months at one job was six months too long anyway. Time to move on. He couldn’t stand to stay now anyway now that his pride was hurt and he felt like a damned fool. He wouldn’t be able to work with either Chris or Buck again without wanting to punch their grinning, fool faces in anyway, couldn’t look at either of them without remembering the way he felt seeing them laying there together.

He would leave his resignation on Travis’ desk on his way out of town. He climbed into his battered jeep and burned rubber and spewed gravel pulling out of the drive. He kept his eyes on the road and pretended he hadn’t seen the blond man, clad only in black jeans, who stepped out barefoot on the porch and called after him. He had a long way to go before morning.

END

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