Adjusting The Tension by Giselle

Vin leaned against the doorframe and waited for Chris to look up from his computer. When tired green eyes finally drifted away from the screen and settled on him, he offered his familiar greeting.

"Hey, cowboy."

"Hey, Vin," Chris replied. "I was just getting ready to go meet you guys."

"Well, no rush. The boys have all gone home," Vin said.

Chris furrowed his brows. "Really? It's still--" He glanced at his watch and whistled softly. Smiling at Vin he asked, "Where does the time go?"

Vin shrugged one shoulder. "Reckon the week dragged by slow enough. Everybody's beat," he said.

Chris blinked and nodded thoughtfully. They had barely wrapped up one case Tuesday when they'd been plunged full-speed ahead into another. "Yeah. But I could have really used a drink."

"You're welcome to stay at my place. We can have a quick drink on the corner and call it a night," Vin offered.

Chris understood that the corner Vin referred to was a bar on the same street as his apartment building. They'd gone there several times when trying to lay low. Chris loved the members of his team like brothers but sometimes he just needed a break from all the bantering and boasting. He'd known without ever actually asking that Vin pretty much felt the same way. Since Vin already considered Mariposa's a refuge of sorts, it had made sense that they would hide out there when the need arose. It was quiet and comfortable, and unlike Inez's, remote from the office building and neighborhood where they spent so much of their time. Chris liked it.

"Sounds good," Chris said. "Gimme ten minutes to finish up here and we'll go."

Vin leaned back in his chair and surveyed the small crowd in the bar. He was relaxed and close to home but still he kept his eyes open, alert to any potential trouble. This wasn't the kind of place that generally attracted trouble though, most people knowing about the baseball bat Fernando Sandoval kept behind the bar and the Golden Glove title he once owned. That was one of the reasons Vin came here. He saw enough trouble everyday without having it in his face when he was kicking back.

The other reason he frequented this place was that he cared deeply for, and felt indebted to, its owners. Fernando and Mariposa had befriended Vin when he was a teenager, in town for a year or so and one step away from doing anything he had to do in order to survive. A half step, maybe. Fernando was the weekend bartender back then and the place was called Caliente. Vin had seen him locking up one cold night and in a moment borne of desperation, hunger, and exhaustion had offered to suck his dick for five bucks.

"How far do you think five dollars will get you, boy?" Fernando had asked.

Before Vin could answer, Fernando had him by the scruff of his neck. He thought for sure he was a goner but they only went about ten feet. Fernando unlocked a worn black door and practically dragged Vin up the narrow staircase.

In a small, warm apartment Vin met Mariposa, drank hot chocolate and ate a sandwich. He slept on the couch and in the morning, was woken up by their only child, Ricky, pounding on his head with a toy bat.

The Sandovals fed him again and took him to their parish priest, who secured Vin a place in a local youth home. Vin had fled just such a place in Texas. However, his time on the streets had taught him perseverance with a situation that wasn't perfect but far better than begging, stealing, and almost selling himself. Eventually, he enrolled in school and struggled to earn his diploma. Mariposa tutored him in her home after he did odd jobs around the bar for spending money.

While Vin was in the army, Fernando had bought the bar, renovated it, and having named it for his wife, reopened it. He wrote Vin to say that an apartment had become available in a building down the street and that he had put a down payment on it. Vin paid him back in full and still lived in the apartment Fernando had scoped out all those years ago.

Now Fernando and Mariposa lived in a nice, modest Federal-style house a few blocks away. Ricky was pre-med at CU-Denver and living in the apartment he'd grown up in one flight up and directly overhead.

The Sandovals were saving to buy the entire four-story building. They took excellent care of the bar but otherwise the building was in a state of disrepair. They did what they could but ultimately they were at the mercy of their absentee landlord and disinterested super.

"Sure ya don't need a hand?" Vin asked as Ricky, buckets in hands, made his third trip past the table where he and Chris were sitting.

"Nah, I got it. Thanks," Ricky answered.

Inwardly, Vin was glad his offer had been refused. He and Chris had come in for one drink. That was a couple of hours and several beers ago. Vin was tipsy and more than ready for bed. He was just too tired to get himself there.

Mariposa slammed the beers down on the table. Vin narrowed his eyes. Had they ordered another round?

"That's the second time this month the basement has flooded. The water main needs cleaning," she groused. "That lousy bastard doesn't take care of anything. We haven't paid Ricky's rent in three months and still he does nothing." Whether she was talking about the owner of the building or the super, she was clearly glaring at Chris. With a snort, she turned on her heel and retreated to the bar, taking a seat at the end near her husband, who was working on the books in the dimly lit corner.

Vin saw Chris's shoulders stiffen. "What's up?" he asked his suddenly tense friend.

"Did I do something? She's acting like I'm the one neglecting things around here," Chris said, turning ever so slightly to see if Mariposa's eyes were on him. He swiveled back around quickly when he saw they were.

Vin chuckled softly. "If I didn't know better, Larabee, I'd say you were afraid," he said.

Chris shook his head. "I just might be," he mumbled.

Vin understood. Mariposa was a formidable woman. Heart of gold, like her husband. But in Purgatorio, you got nothing for appearing soft. And if someone irked you, you found a way to let him know.

Taking a sip of the fresh, ice-cold beer, Vin leaned in over the table, signaling for Chris to do the same. When Chris got real close, Vin explained.

"Way I see it, she thinks I like you and you don't like me. So, right now, you're Public Enemy Number Two," he said. He glanced over at the bar, saw Mariposa's scowl. "Might make it to Number One after tonight. It'll depend on how bad the flood is, probably."

Chris sat back, resting his folded hands on his belt buckle. "It's not that I haven't thought about it," he began tentatively.

Vin was still leaning forward. He waited for Chris to meet his gaze. "Thought about what?"

"But there are too many good reasons not to do anything about it," Chris said.

"About what?" Vin asked again, more for clarity than out of any urge to be coy.

"About this," Chris said, waving his hand before letting it rejoin its mate on his lap. "About us being attracted to each other."

Vin smiled crookedly. "Speak for yourself, Larabee."

"Okay, I will," Chris said, a serious lilt to his voice. "I'm attracted to you and I've never been attracted to a man before. Under other circumstances, I might be willing to pursue it. But I'm too old to start exploring. I'm also your boss. We're part of a good, solid team and sleeping together could jeopardize that. Plus, I'm your friend and your friendship is important to me. Not gonna risk it just to try and sort out some confusing feelings that are probably better left unsorted."

"So you're saying it would be messy?" Vin asked as he settled back in the hard wooden chair.

"Yeah," Chris said softly. "And I haven't got room in my life for messy."

"Neither do I," Vin said, unsure of whether or not he meant it.

"Good. Then we're agreed. No mess," Chris said, his eyes touching Vin's.

Vin thought he might have detected a note of uncertainty but he was too tired, too intoxicated and too mixed up to read anything in Chris's eyes or expression. In the span of a few minutes he'd learned that Chris Larabee was attracted to him, had thought about being with him and had decided against it. Sound reasons for making that decision to be sure, and Vin found himself agreeing to Chris's chosen course of action. Or inaction.

"Agreed," Vin said quietly. "No mess." He immediately wondered how he had managed to interject so much disappointment into so few words. Especially when he hadn't even had a chance to admit to himself that he was disappointed.

If Chris noticed the crestfallen tone, he gave no indication. He stood and pulled out his wallet. Dropping a couple of twenties on the table, he waved over to the Sandovals. "Let's call it a night, okay?" he said.

"Okay," Vin mumbled. He swung by the bar to say good night, politely ignoring Mariposa when she sucked her teeth at Chris's departing form.

It was a routine bust and Vin was glad of it. He had taken up a position around the back of the once-impressive but now rundown Victorian house out of which their suspects were operating. Two guys had burst through the back door and scrambled across the porch but when Josiah had yelled freeze, they froze. Vin had assisted in handcuffing them and then participated in a full sweep of the premises. He'd been there in the nick of time to pull a perp off Ezra, who'd done some reconnaissance with the gang and was the prime candidate for the title rat when the feds showed up unannounced.

The build-up to today hadn't been a particularly arduous operation but Vin had found it grueling and wasn't sorry to see it end. The case had involved a lot of surveillance and he'd done much of it with Chris. When he wasn't watching Ezra's back or listening in on the petty squabbles and fractured plans of some low-life gun dealers, he was reflecting on the brief, less than satisfying conversation he'd had with Chris the month before.

Intellectually, he knew Chris was right. Things would get messy if they explored their attraction to one another. There was just no way for two people whose lives were intertwined as much as his and Chris's were to get involved without it getting messy. Yet, emotionally, he longed for the chance to at least try it and see how it played out. He longed for Chris pure and simple, his physical desire for his friend slamming him on a daily basis. And none of it had been helped one bit by all the time they had spent in the cramped quarters of their purposefully nondescript van.

Vin had wondered but never asked why Chris personally took so many surveillance shifts. Mostly he left such routine tasks to the Team. Vin flirted with the idea that Chris just wanted to be close to him. Which might be true, except he'd done just as many shifts with Buck and Josiah. So maybe he was merely being fair, one extra body meaning all bodies got stuck sitting less often. That, or Chris was feeling attracted to Buck and Josiah, as well. Vin didn't give that theory much credence, though.

Thankfully now it was all over. A clean bust, everybody in one piece. Even better, it was Friday. All the members of Team Seven had hurried through their paperwork in order to make the most of the evening, all the while looking forward to an entire weekend free and clear. No crummy van, no undercover Ezra, no worries.

"Vin? You still with us?" Buck asked. He shook Vin's shoulder in the hopes of breaking him out of his reverie.

"Yeah," Vin said, returning to the present. "I'm just on Valerie's side in this. Why should she go out with ya again after catching ya with her roommate?"

Buck smiled broadly and shook his head. "How do you do that, Vin?" He turned to Chris. "How does he do that? Looks like he's a million miles away but he hears every word."

Chris shrugged. "Years of practice, I expect."

It was a pretty typical night with the boys and when it was done, Vin finally acknowledged to himself that Chris really was right. He had found a home with Team Seven that fit him in a way nothing had before. Not the Army, or the Marshals, or even the Sandovals, whom he cared for but were their own family, however accepting they were of him. He had blended effortlessly with the boys, they trusted him and he trusted them. Professionally and just as importantly, personally. Early on he had informed them he was gay and to a man they had taken it in stride. They were his family, formed around him and with him. He still made sure he knew where all the exits were every time he entered a new place. Old habits died hard. Relationships were no different. He never got in so deep that he couldn't get out. If he got involved with Chris, that might change. And he was already in deep enough with the boys -- and totally okay with that -- to risk it for what might turn out to be only a moment's pleasure.

Still, Vin sucked in a breath when Chris shook his hand in the parking lot.

"G'night, Vin. Take it easy," Chris said. He squeezed Vin's hand. "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow, if you feel like coming out to the ranch." His eyes were bright and his voice so thick and sweet like honey Vin could almost taste it.

Vin only blinked and silently watched Chris walk away. He half expected to find Chris at his apartment when he got home, ready to make good on the promise the timbre of his voice had held.

His apartment was dark. Empty. "Fucking Larabee," Vin mumbled as he made his way to the bathroom.

Chris gently brushed his lips over Vin's. Vin reached up, trying to catch his face. He wanted Chris to kiss him deeply. One of those tonsil-sucking, mind-blowing kisses that left you bereft of air and reason. He'd always known kissing Chris would be like that and he wanted to experience it at long last, after so much time spent pretending otherwise.

The good part about Chris not kissing his mouth was that he was trailing fiery kisses down Vin's chest and abdomen. Vin squeezed his eyes shut and dared not hope for more.

Then there was more, Chris licking the length of his hardening sex. Mouthing the purplish head and tasting with an eager tongue the clear liquid that seeped from it.

Vin moaned.

His eyes flew open. The first rays of sunlight were gently bathing his room in a soft glow. He felt the flush on his cheeks and it only burned deeper when he realized he'd come in his boxer shorts, his right hand wrapped around his cock and Chris nowhere in sight.

Sighing, Vin released his hold and untangled his legs from the top sheet and blanket. He could still see Chris's face the way it had looked last night, still hear the honey in his voice. It would be so like Chris to want to change the rules right when Vin was finally accepting them.

Shimmying out of his damp boxers and tossing them off the side of the bed, Vin reminded himself that Chris had not come over last night. He wasn't changing the rules, just being a pain in the ass. He was so adept at it he probably didn't even realize he was doing it.

Which left Vin wondering what he should do with his day. With no other plans, he would normally head out to the ranch. There was always work that needed doing there, or he'd take his horse out or, less frequently, he would just do nothing. Lay around and watch satellite television.

Even after their mostly one-sided conversation in the bar that night, they'd been able to hang together without any strain or unease. Would today be the same?

Sadly it would, Vin thought. He knew Chris well enough to know that. Chris had made up his mind and while he was generally open to discussing things with Vin, this particular subject seemed closed.

Vin's musings were interrupted by a deep, rumbling vibration which made his bed shake. His first thought was earthquake. In Denver? Then he heard a loud cracking noise. He scrambled out of bed and dressed quickly in clean shorts, jeans, a T-shirt and his hiking boots. He left his apartment unlocked and raced down the stairs.

When Vin hit the sunny street, people were running towards the corner where Mariposa's stood. He ran too, covering the short distance in only a minute. He stopped, amazed at what he saw.

Half of the corner building had collapsed, exposing the ruined apartments to the light of day. Residents clad only in their pajamas or less were peering over the side, stunned expressions on their sleepy faces. Vin wanted to yell to them to get back but he saw movement in the pile of rubble. A woman was standing up and dusting herself off.

Vin and a couple of other men climbed onto the pile of furniture, sheet rock, bricks, and cement and assisted the woman, who appeared to be uninjured. They saw several other people and helped them to safety. None of them seemed to have any serious injuries. Cuts and bruises, maybe a broken bone or two. A few were in shock.

As Vin was easing an older gentleman onto the curb, he heard Mariposa's panicked voice. He looked up and saw her coming towards him, a grocery bag open on the ground with lemons and limes spilling out.

"Vin!" she shrieked. "Ricky's in there! There was another flood! He was in the basement!"

Vin grabbed her upper arms. "Okay, calm down. Let's make sure he's not on the street anywhere," he said.

Mariposa twisted in Vin's grasp and called her son's name. There was no response. She looked back at him, her face contorted by fear, her eyes wide and tear-filled.

Vin could hear the sirens but he didn't wait. Mariposa couldn't wait and if one of them was going to start poking around in that rubble, he knew it had to be him. He hesitated only long enough to tie his shoelaces tighter and scan the debris for the most likely spot to start searching for Ricky.

The water main was in the rear of the basement and Vin went partly around the corner before attempting to once more scale the mound of rubble. When he was standing in what felt like a secure spot, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the sounds around him. He heard something and squatted down, trying to focus in on it amid the confusion.

He heard it again. Someone was calling for help.

Vin saw an opening in the debris not ten feet in front of him. He took a deep breath. No lover of small, confined spaces, he lacked the desire to get on his belly and crawl through that hole. But he told himself Ricky's life might depend on it.

Knowing Mariposa had followed him he pointed to the opening. "Tell the fireman, I'll need their help getting him out," he said with a confidence he didn't totally feel.

Mariposa nodded, her lips moving in silent prayer.

Vin moved slowly, aware that any sudden movement could jar the still settling pile. His hands were stretched out in front of him as entered the dark space headfirst.

"Ricky?" Vin called as loud as he believed permissible, though he had no way to judge. "Ricky? It's Vin."

"I'm here!" Ricky called back.

At the sound of Ricky's voice, Vin unconsciously leaned forward. Before his mind could register that there was nothing under his hands anymore, he was falling.

Vin tumbled down into the basement and hit the floor with a thud. He sat up carefully, mentally taking inventory of his body. Nothing hurt very much and everything moved the way it was supposed to when tested. When he stood, his legs were a little wobbly but fully functional. Except for a shaft of light that extended across the ceiling for about a yard from where he'd just fallen, all was darkness. Sweat broke out on his forehead as droplets of moisture ran down his back. He felt his heart and lungs constrict, fear of being entombed strangling his air supply. He had always been claustrophobic but he told himself he had good cause for alarm now.

Vin closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. Physically he was fine but he would need to get his thoughts under control fast.

That meant pushing away thoughts of suffocating in the blackness and focusing on Ricky. Find Ricky, lead the firemen to him, get the hell out of here.

"Okay," Vin said to himself. "You can do this." He raised his voice a few decibels. "Ricky? Talk to me so I can find ya. Ya hear me?" he said. "Keep talking 'til I reach ya."

"I hear you, Vin. I'm near the bathroom," Ricky said.

Which would be helpful, Vin thought, if he knew where the hell he was standing and where said bathroom was in relation to that. "Keep talking, pard," he said.

Vin made his way through the darkness toward the sound of Ricky's voice. He ran one hand along the wall, feeling his way. It was so damn dark he couldn't see a blessed thing, including his other hand, which he held out in front of him. Letting the familiar voice propel him deeper into the darkness, Vin reluctantly moved away from the wall. As he neared Ricky, the young man sounded less frightened but at the same time, much weaker.

"Where are you, Vin?" Ricky asked so quietly that Vin wouldn't have heard if he hadn't been standing almost on top of him.

As it was, he had to pull himself up short. He dropped to his knees and reached out. "I'm here, Ricky." He ran his hands down Ricky's face and chest. Something was pinning him from his stomach on down.

Ricky grabbed Vin's hand. "Help me, I'm stuck," he said.

Vin touched the dark mass that had Ricky trapped. He guessed it consisted of at least one wooden ceiling beam and a lot of concrete.

"Ow, dammit," Vin cursed. Concrete with nails sticking out of it, judging by the sharp pain along his forearm and the warmth running down to his elbow that had to be blood. He wanted to get a measure of the cut but Ricky was clinging to his hand. "It's okay," he said, patting Ricky's clenched hand. "Help's on the way."

Vin kept blinking but his eyes could not adjust. It was too dark. He began to hyperventilate and maneuvered himself into a better position, flat on his back, legs straight as he could manage. Less work for his heart, he'd breathe easier this way, he told himself. His rational mind fought the hysterical voice in his head that warned about blood loss and oxygen deprivation. It was only a scratch, only a few, inconsequential droplets of blood lost.

"Vin, what's wrong?" Ricky asked in a voice laced with panic.

"Nothing. There's plenty of air," Vin said and willed himself to believe it.

"Air?" Ricky asked.

"Don't worry," Vin said. "They'll find us and get you out."

"You sound funny. Tell me what's wrong," Ricky said.

"Just don't like small spaces, is all. But I'm good," Vin said. The second part didn't even sound convincing to his own ears.

"Don't leave me, Vin. Promise you won't leave me," Ricky said, both hands clinging now to Vin's hand. The fact that Ricky was shaking more than he was gave Vin some relief.

He took a deep breath and held it for a minute, letting it out slowly. This was important, he could do this. "I ain't going anywhere. I promise," he said.

"I don't want to die here. All alone in the dark," Ricky said.

Vin heard the tears in Ricky's voice. "You're not gonna die. And you ain't alone," he said.

"Vin, I can't... I can't feel my legs," Ricky said.

Before Vin could respond, a flashlight beam bounced off the walls and landed on him and Ricky.

"Hello? Denver Fire Department," said a disembodied voice behind the light. "You fellas all right?"

Vin sat up and shielded his eyes. "Vin Tanner. I'm fine. This here's Ricky. He's stuck, obviously."

The fireman lowered his flashlight. "Okay sir, you need to leave him to us," he said. "I'll lead you out while my partner checks him over."

"No!" Ricky cried. "Don't leave me, Vin. You promised!"

"I'm staying, count on it," Vin soothed. He looked up at the fireman and shook his head when the man started to speak. "I know. It's not safe. I still ain't leaving 'til you get him free."

"Boy's mother said you're ATF," the fireman said. After Vin nodded, he continued, "Man with your training ought to have more sense."

"I got sense enough. Still not going anywhere," Vin said.

The fireman shrugged. "There's a rescue squad on the way. I'll tell them to bring you down a helmet. Meantime, my partner is part of the EMT-staff. He'll stay with you," he said.

"Appreciate it," Vin said.

The second fireman kneeled down and reached his hand out to Vin. "Gene Osgood," he said.

Vin shook his hand. "Vin Tanner."

"And you're Ricky?" Osgood asked as he prepared to take Ricky's vitals.

"Yes, sir. Can you get me out of here? I bet my mom's worried sick," Ricky said.

"That she is. Almost took out two good men trying to get down here with you," Osgood said with a wink.

"Don't let her! It's not safe!" Ricky exclaimed.

Osgood put a hand on Ricky's chest, whether to calm him or check his respiration Vin wasn't sure. "She's safe with your dad. We'll do everything we can down here, Ricky. You just try to relax," he said.

Vin shifted so that he was kneeling back on his thighs. He figured he needed to follow Osgood's advice and so took a few deep, long breaths. It was still dark and his nerves were starting to fray but he felt better. Rescue squad would be there any minute and everything would be fine. At least that's what he told himself with forced conviction.

"That arm okay?" Osgood asked him.

With the light from Osgood's flashlight Vin could se the gash on his arm. He could also see more clearly all the shit piled on top of Ricky. "Yeah, it's nothing," he said. Though it stung and was still bleeding, it really was nothing by comparison.

Osgood nodded and began asking Ricky a series of questions. His answers were lucid and from what Vin could tell, correct. He told the EMT about his plans to be a doctor.

"Pediatrician," Ricky said. "I love kids."

"That's great," Osgood said. He prepared an IV for Ricky, explaining that it was just a precaution against dehydration.

As Ricky nodded, Vin wondered if there was more to it than a precaution. He didn't ask, going along with Osgood when he tried to distract Ricky by discussing the Nuggets.

They sat together in the dank, dark basement, talking quietly. Vin figured oxygen wasn't a problem since Osgood had not mentioned that they needed to preserve it. Nevertheless, he was getting increasingly edgy and afraid that Ricky would pick up on it. He closed his eyes and thought about Chris's ranch. About all the wide-open space there and all the long rides they'd taken on horseback together. Chris was largely a silent companion on those rides, which was fine with Vin. He never realized until this moment, though, how comforting that strong silent presence had always been. He wanted Chris here with him now. More than anything he wanted that solid presence at his side.

Vin opened his eyes when Osgood spoke.

"Finally," he said to Ricky and Vin. Standing up, he called, "Over here!"

Feeling cramped, Vin tried to rise also but Ricky gripped his hand. "Hey, it's all right. Just stretching my legs," he said.

"Yeah, okay, sorry," Ricky said in a husky whisper. "Guess I should let you go so you can be safe," he offered lamely.

Vin patted his shoulder. "Ain't going anywhere," he said. Standing, he wriggled his fingers. Ricky's grip had not been as firm as when he had first grabbed Vin's hand but Vin refused to think about that too much.

He shook hands with each of the rescue workers. All but their leader wore jackets and heavy equipment. The boss was a tall, broad-shouldered man whose face said fifty, fifty-five but whose well-toned body looked fifteen years less than that, easily. Name of Brian Peterson. Something about him instantly gave Vin confidence and reminded him some of Chris.

"Tanner, I'm gonna level with you," he said. "They're not going to remove the debris overhead until we're done but that doesn't mean this area will remain stable. We'll do what we can to shore it up from down here but we can't guarantee your safety. You should get out."

"Thanks, but I'm not going anywhere," Vin replied.

"Figured you'd say that," Peterson said with a grin and tossed Vin a safety helmet.

"Much obliged," Vin said. Peterson was probably one of those adrenaline junkies and thought Vin might be a kindred spirit. If only he knew Vin was daydreaming about a quiet ride in an open field with a good friend. Belatedly, he realized there was one member of the crew he hadn't met. A man attending to Ricky. Vin squatted down and held out his hand, once more giving his name.

A small, bespectacled man glanced at him, his hands never leaving Ricky. "Dr. Lawrence Hurley. Trauma surgeon."

Vin nodded and scooted back a bit so that both Osgood and the doctor could work on Ricky. Even without the extra lighting the rescue guys had brought in, Vin had noticed Ricky's color fading. His responses were more sluggish now and he was coughing intermittently, blood mixing with saliva on his chin.

After examining Ricky for a few minutes, Osgood and Hurley stood up.

"Vin? Can I..." Osgood began, tilting his head to one side.

His chest tightening, Vin rose, stealing a glance at Ricky. No need to calm or explain anything, he was barely conscious.

"Look, there's no easy way to say this," Osgood said quietly once they'd stepped away. He looked at the doctor then back at Vin. "Ricky's not going to make it. There's too much internal damage, which means lifting the weight off him won't help. It's probably the only reason he's still alive. But he doesn't have much time. I'm sorry."

Vin didn't need to look to Hurley for confirmation. It was what he had feared, almost from the moment he realized Ricky was trapped. He'd try to reassure his young friend because what else could he do? But there was no way he'd let the other happen. He wouldn't let Ricky die alone in the dark.

"I'm here 'til he... passes," Vin said.

Osgood squeezed his shoulder. "I understand."

Vin looked at the motionless figure lying on the cold floor. "Your radio work down here?" he asked.

"Yeah," Osgood said. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking I'm not going to lie to him. And he's gonna want to say good-bye to his parents," Vin said.

Osgood nodded grimly. "Sure thing."

Vin returned to Ricky's side and sitting down Indian style took his hand.

Ricky's eyes fluttered open. "Vin?"

"I'm here, Ricky," Vin said.

"It's bad, isn't it?" Ricky croaked. As if to make his own point, he launched into another bloody coughing fit.

When he was done, Vin gently wiped his mouth with the corner of a blanket Osgood handed him. He then traded it with Osgood for another to tuck around a now shivering Ricky. An ominous rumbling sound reverberated through the basement and Vin's back stiffened. He had said he wouldn't lie to the kid and now, subconsciously fearing they'd be some of the last words he would ever speak, he needed them to be the truth.

Ricky deserved the truth. Besides, there was no point in pretending. He was smart, pre-med at that. He probably already knew. "It's bad. There gonna arrange it so ya can talk to your folks," Vin said.

"Yes, do that, please. I need to speak with them," Ricky said as he drifted off again.

Vin accepted a bottle of water from one of the rescue workers and drank it straight down. He learned from the guy that there were no other residents unaccounted for and that the most serious injury was to a man who had sustained a concussion and a broken leg.

Peterson came over and tapped his guy on the shoulder. "Everyone's moving out except for me and Osgood," he said. The worker left and Osgood kneeled down in his place and addressed Vin.

"Next time he's awake, we'll make the call to his folks," he said.

Vin wasn't wearing a watch but he guessed it had been an hour or so since Osgood had told him about reaching the Sandovals. He knew Ricky was still breathing, though he slept on fitfully. He had to wonder if he'd ever wake up.

Vin also wondered if he would get out of this alive. The last hour had been filled with several scary sounds and incidents of falling debris. Peterson had again tried to get Vin to leave and he had again refused. He'd accepted an offer of a plastic bottle to relieve himself but nothing else.

The firemen had brought oxygen down with them and each time Ricky sucked air, Vin held the mask to his face. His eyes would fly open, searching. Always they would settle on Vin and he would relax back into sleep. Vin couldn't leave him. He just sat beside him and tried not to think about anything but blue skies and fresh air.

He did involuntarily think about Chris and what he would say to him when he saw him again. His own optimism provided a welcome relief: when, he'd thought. Not if.

After a time, Ricky opened his eyes and appeared alert. Osgood immediately got on the radio. He held it for Ricky since the young man could not marshal the strength to do it himself.

Vin had that uncomfortable feeling of intruding even though he had no choice. Like when someone took a phone call in front of you. And this was such a deeply personal moment. Luckily, Ricky and his parents spoke entirely in Spanish. Vin maybe could have followed if he tried. He didn't try.

He did notice Ricky struggling to hold back the tears and thought he might break down himself. It was just all so sad and so wrong.

The conversation ended when Ricky again passed out.

It was much later, Vin dozing with his chin on his chest, when Ricky spoke to him for the last time.

"Vin?"

Vin's head snapped up at the barely audible whisper. He was instantly alert. "Yeah?"

"Promise me something?" Ricky requested weakly.

"Anything," Vin said, peeling a lock of sweaty hair from Ricky's cheek.

"Make my mom happy. Forget about... the blond guy. Chris?" Ricky said, squinting to try and remember.

Vin smiled. "Yeah, Chris," he said.

"Find someone who loves you. That's what she wants," Ricky said.

"I will, I promise," Vin said.

Ricky struggled for a breath and Osgood held the oxygen mask to his face. After a minute he turned his face away. "Thanks, Vin. You too, sir," he said softly.

Then he was gone.

If Vin had been inclined to feel anything as he emerged from the opening he had crawled into hours before, it would have been disappointment.

There were no blue skies above. Only the harsh glare of large standing lamps with halogen bulbs. Night had fallen but it was brighter than the brightest summer day here on the shattered spot where Vin stood shakily, eyes narrowed against the unearthly glow.

And it was not quiet. Paramedics rushed him as he scuttled down off the building's ruins, grabbing his arm and probing the rest of him. He heard their questions but they didn't register. He shrugged out of their grasp and kept walking. Mariposa and Fernando were waiting for him. So was Chris. He knew it in his heart.

"Vin? Vin?"

Vin glanced sideways at the familiar voice. "Hey Nate," he whispered.

Nathan was gently touching his shoulder, bringing him to an unsteady stop. "You all right?" he asked.

Vin nodded. "I have to--"

Beyond the artificial daylight Vin saw two figures huddled together. As he approached them they opened their arms.

Mariposa pressed her face to the front of his dirty T-shirt and sobbed. Vin put his arms around her but said nothing. He had that terrible feeling again of not being able to breathe and realized it was because Fernando was hugging them so tightly.

They thanked Vin through their tears. He was afraid they would want details, want to know everything Ricky had said or something equally unimaginable at the moment. They didn't. They released him with kisses, wanting only a promise that he would come by and see them tomorrow.

A small nod signaled his agreement. He moved away from them, Nathan walking quietly at his side.

A cop lifted the yellow crime scene tape for him and he scooted under. Reporters were instantly in his face, firing off a volley of questions. He ignored them completely, thankful that the cop was clearing a path through them and across the street.

Vin was vaguely aware of Nathan asking the crowd to give him some space. For the most part, all his attention was focused on the black pick-up parked cattycorner from the collapse, and on the man leaning against it.

The darkness here was cut by the halo shining down from the streetlight. It was the way night was supposed to look. It was a step up from the scene across the street but Vin still found it oppressive. He needed to get the hell out of Dodge.

Chris tossed him a bottle of water. "I've got a sandwich, too," he said.

Vin shook his head. He stared into Chris's eyes for a few seconds. The compassion and concern he saw there were almost his undoing. Looking away, he sipped the water.

"Your building is off limits but I figure you got enough stuff out at my place for the weekend," Chris said. He shrugged one shoulder. "We can buy anything else you need."

Vin didn't respond, only partly because he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand. The horde was closing in. He turned and saw Nate jogging towards him.

"Sorry, they want a piece of you bad, Vin," he said. "As long as you're okay, you might want to get outta here."

Chris went around and opened the passenger door of his truck. Vin followed and climbed in. He picked up the sandwich wrapped in white deli paper and studied it. His stomach was growling, he was definitely hungry. But if he ate, he would puke. He tossed it over his shoulder into the backseat.

Chris and Nate were conferring outside the Ram, Chris pushing the microphones away from his face without ever making eye contact with any of the reporters. Vin wished he could just walk to Chris's but the ghoulish crowd would probably follow him the entire way.

He was relieved beyond measure when Chris finally got in the truck and drove him away from the hell his street had become.

They arrived at the ranch after a circuitous trip through Denver. Vin had hardly been aware of what Chris was doing until it had occurred to him that it was taking way too long to get out of the city.

When it had clicked, he had silently appreciated the effort to lose the news vans following them. Wasn't sure it was worth the effort since more than likely the press knew who Chris was and where he lived by now. But still appreciated. He was almost surprised when he didn't see any vans on Chris's lawn.

The vehicles he did see parked in the drive did not surprise him at all.

"Sorry. Told them to stay home," Chris said.

Vin was quiet for a minute. Then he said, "It's okay."

"I could take you somewhere else. A hotel?" Chris said.

"Nah. They're just concerned," Vin said. He looked at Chris and smiled what felt like a real smile. "Think it's kind of sweet."

Chris flicked his eyebrows. "Yeah, right. Sweet."

Vin opened his door and stepped out into the cool air. "Give me a minute?" he asked Chris.

His eyes followed Chris as he went inside. He held his breath, afraid Buck if not all of the boys would come charging out when they realized he was here. The front door stayed closed.

Vin heaved a heavy sigh of relief. He wasn't quite ready to see everyone. He was more ready for a long hot shower, every muscle in his body achy from the unrelenting tension of the day. But first he had to stretch his legs.

He did not walk far. Even with a clear sky, a half moon, and hundreds of stars shining, the night was too dark. Unable to stand it, Vin braced himself and entered Chris's house.

Predictable but ever loveable, Buck greeted him when he was barely inside the door and wrapped him in an affectionate hug.

"Hey Vin. You look like shit," Buck said, his face beaming.

"I concur," Ezra said and made a feeble attempt to pat Vin's shoulder then brushed his hands together. "Please tell me you postponed all interviews until you have had the opportunity to clean up and dress appropriately."

Vin smiled and shook Josiah's hand, leaning into the half hug the big man offered.

"That's Ezra for you. Priorities always in order," Josiah joked.

JD was the last to greet Vin. "Buck's got porn, Vin. Thinks that's gonna make you feel better," he said with a roll of his eyes.

Buck nodded enthusiastically. "Boy on boy for you. Girl on girl for us," he said. To his friends' astonished expressions he responded, "What? Fair is fair."

Vin chuckled. "Start with the girlie stuff. I need a shower," he said.

He followed Chris down the hallway to the master bedroom.

"I'm guessing the boys are here for the night. You can bunk in with me," Chris said.

Vin had smelled alcohol on each of the guys' breath and assumed Chris was right. He'd also smelled food and though he was experiencing hunger pains he still had no real appetite.

Chris pointed out the clean clothes on the bed. "Your toothbrush is in the bathroom. There's aspirin in the medicine cabinet and mercurochrome in the first-aid kit," he said. Taking in Vin's frown he said, "I promised Nathan I'd look after that cut."

Vin snorted. "I'll clean it good," he said.

Chris nodded. "Need anything else?" he asked.

Vin had walked into the bathroom and was staring at himself in the mirror. He did look like shit. He was aware of Chris's eyes on him. He wanted his hands on him, badly. Anywhere. Nothing sexual, necessarily. Though sex would be good. Closing his eyes and clenching his fists against such wayward thoughts he answered Chris's question.

"No." He couldn't manage any more than that.

"Okay. Take your time," Chris said.

Vin popped a couple of aspirin and let the water get really hot before he stepped into the shower. For a long time, he just stood under the pounding stream and waited for the tension in his muscles to abate. Then he started to sway, a combination of fatigue, hunger, and the almost scalding water wearing him down. He washed his body, paying careful attention to the gash on his arm, then washed his hair quickly and got out.

The mirror in the bathroom was completely fogged over. Vin used his hand to wipe a clear circle. He still looked like shit, only he was shiny and red. At least he felt a little better. He had even managed to forget for a minute there that Ricky was dead.

Vin sighed deeply. Opening the medicine cabinet he saw the aspirin and Chris's razor. Something else caught his eye but he pushed his recognition of it aside. He took care of his cut first, then brushed his teeth, shaved, scrubbed a towel over his hair and went into the bedroom.

There was a beer on the nightstand, accompanied by a plain roll. The beer would not help his headache but Vin wanted it. He drank it slowly, letting the cold liquid slide down his throat and fill him up with something other than abject desolation.

An hour or so later, Vin sat at the foot of the lounge chair on the back deck. If he had thought the darkness was bad, trying to act naturally around his friends had been far worse.

They meant well, his friends. They carried on over what Vin was glad to see was merely a soccer game. He just could not abide the usual bickering or keep up with their boozing. Without a word, he had passed through the sliding door out into the night.

He thought about strolling down to the barn to visit his horse. But this weird lethargy engulfed him. It was more than just being tired. He felt hollow, like he might crumple if he attempted to move.

It took longer for Chris to join him than Vin had anticipated. He suspected Chris felt torn between wanting to give him breathing room and wanting to offer him some kind of comfort.

Chris straddled the chair behind him and slid his hands under Vin's sweatshirt. Vin leaned forward and covered his face with his hands. Chris gently massaged his shoulders and rubbed his back while he cried it all out.

Eventually, a bandana was pressed against Vin's hands. Chris's other hand was resting lightly on his shoulder blade.

Vin blew his nose and took a deep, shaky breath. He stood up and walked toward the door. "Need sleep," he said without turning around.

In the den, the convertible sofa was pulled out. Josiah was reading. Ezra was curled up next to him, apparently asleep.

Vin briefly contemplated engaging Josiah in conversation but that lethargy was still on him. He mumbled a response to Josiah's salutation and headed for Chris's room.

He stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom again. As much as he wanted to go to sleep and not wake for days, he needed something else entirely. Shrugging off his inertia he opened the medicine chest.

In the bedroom, Chris was pulling off his jeans. Vin waited until he had only his cotton jersey boxers on and was reaching for the drawstring pants he'd wear to bed.

"Here," Vin said and tossed the Vaseline to Chris as he moved across the room. "You'll need this."

Chris caught the plastic jar. "Vin..."

Vin cupped Chris's face in his hands and kissed him hard. Chris's lips parted easily and Vin stabbed his tongue inside. The feeling behind the kiss took Vin's breath away faster than the actual kiss. He pulled back and looked into the depths of Chris's darkened green eyes.

The doubt he saw floating there like a cirrus cloud in the summer sky didn't make sense. It was mutual. It had to be.

"Vin, I don't have a condom," Chris said.

Vin almost laughed. "I don't care, cowboy," he said. And he didn't. Buck probably had protection. They just needed to tap on the guestroom door. If they were so inclined. Vin reasoned they were not.

He undressed quickly and stood waiting for Chris.

Chris removed his underwear and shrugged nervously at Vin.

Nothing to shrug at, Vin thought. Chris's cock was semi-hard and nothing short of beautiful. Vin stroked its head while he kissed Chris again. He considered what was about to happen and his own cock twitched in anticipation.

Vin dropped to his knees and mouthed the head of Chris's shaft. Normally, he enjoyed giving head and prided himself on his talent for pleasuring his partner. But right now it was more of a means to an end. He wanted Chris totally hard so they could get on with the fucking. He needed the fucking, needed Chris to fill the emptiness inside him.

They made their way to the bed, Chris using only one hand to caress and hold Vin as they kissed. In fact, he held the Vaseline so tightly Vin practically had to pry his fingers off.

"It's okay, Chris. Let me handle this," Vin said.

He kissed Chris's neck, the tip of his tongue teasing the soft hollow of Chris's collarbone. Chris moaned softly. Vin liked the sound of that. He smoothed his hands over the well-defined muscles in Chris's chest and stomach, eliciting more moans.

Vin touched Chris's cock. It was hot and hard and ready enough. He coated it with the petroleum jelly, pausing to stretch his lip over his top teeth and mouth Chris's balls. The corresponding moan was a tad louder than its predecessors and Vin liked it even more. The more aroused Chris was the better.

He climbed onto Chris, bending low for another heated kiss before getting down to business. Chris sank his fingers into Vin's hair and kissed him with a passion Vin had never experienced. It was as if Chris wanted to inhabit his body. Vin fought back, drawing Chris's tongue into his mouth and sucking hard. But it was mostly for show, since they both wanted the same thing. When he broke the kiss he idly wondered if his tonsils were still intact.

Vin rotated his hips over Chris's cock, wet at the tip with pre-cum. He got his hole good and moist and started to sink down. Without much preparation, it was bound to hurt some. Vin didn't care. It would temporarily take his mind off the pain in the heart.

Chris grabbed his hands and together they gripped Vin's hips. For a minute their eyes were locked as well. Only for a minute since Vin was unwilling to linger and perhaps be compelled to think about all that was happening between them. This was supposed to be about forgetting. He closed his eyes and with a grunt bore down harder on Chris's sex.

The grunt turned to a groan, Vin rocking to get as much of Chris in him as possible. The pain was exquisite but he didn't mind. He reveled in it. Wanted it. Wanted the oblivion it wrought even more. He could feel Chris swelling inside him and rocked faster. A heated charge raced though his entire body leaving a shock of pleasure in its wake.

Chris was thrusting upward trying to match Vin's rhythm. They were a little off but when he bent his legs for better leverage, Vin cried out. So he straightened them, waited a heartbeat, then bent them again. Vin loved it, twisting his pelvis in pure bliss and letting out a moan each time Chris's cock bumped his special spot.

Dazed and sweating, he moved his hands to Chris's chest and altered their pace. He lifted off the hardness inside him then dropped down, clenching his muscles tightly and grinding before doing it again. He looked down at Chris, purposely avoiding his eyes, and had to smile. Chris's face was a mask of concentration as he followed Vin's lead, fucking him with all his work-mode seriousness. Vin might have told him to lighten up except for the fact that his concentration was paying off in breathtakingly amazing ways.

Truly breathtaking he mused as he heard the blood pounding in his ears, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He sat back again and switched from bouncing to undulating real slowly. Chris's mouth fell open while his eyes snapped shut. He began stroking Vin's penis. His light touch was good but when he fisted it, a visceral thrill blossomed in Vin's belly. Chris began exploring with his other hand, rubbing circles over Vin's hip and ass. He found the place where they were joined and fingered it.

It was almost too much. Convinced he could take Chris in even deeper, Vin lifted his knee and planted his foot on the mattress. He reached backward and latched onto Chris's thighs. Chris instinctively obliged him, curling his upper body towards him and pumping his hand and his hips harder. Faster.

Enraptured, Vin arched his back. He was in ecstasy -- a lengthy, guttural moan forced from his body the proof of that. He continued rocking as he came, still very much aware of Chris's pulsing cock buried deep within him. Needing to bring his lover over with him, Vin squeezed his ass cheeks together one last time.

Chris's climax filled him with welcome warmth. Literally, and that physical sensation was new since he had never let a man come inside him before. But it was more than that. Much, much more. Too much to think about. Luckily his brain was AWOL.

He fell forward onto Chris's chest. Chris hugged him close, soothing his post-coital tremors with tender strokes down his back. They lay quietly for a long while, their fluids and breath mixing, their bodies still joined.

Finally, Vin crawled away from Chris to the other side of the big bed. He hoped he would fall asleep before he became too fully aware of the void he felt without Chris inside him. At least his impersonation of a chocolate Easter bunny with cold air where his innards should be had been suspended for a time.

He could hear Chris moving around. The bed dipped and he felt a warm washcloth at his ass. Chris pushed Vin's legs apart and cleaned away the residue of his own release. Vin squared his shoulders slightly so that Chris could wipe his stomach down then rolled back to his side.

Chris turned off the lamp and drew the covers up, snuggling against Vin as he did.

"That was unbelievable, Vin. Wouldn't have figured you for such a noisemaker when you made love," Chris said in a softly hoarse voice.

"Yeah, well, I had a lot of tension to work off," Vin said defensively.

Chris kissed his ear. "I'm sorry about Ricky. Wish I could do more than just make you forget for a while," he whispered.

Vin waited until he'd regained his composure before answering. "Forgettin's good," he said.

Chris maybe took that as an invitation. Vin didn't resist when he eased him onto his back, opening his legs so Chris could rest comfortably between them.

This kiss was languid. Music to Vin's ears and raw sugar on his tongue. Much less combative than the others they had shared that night. Vin opened to it, too tired to fight everything it meant.

His hips acted of their own accord, thrusting against Chris. He was awash in emotions he had never felt before. It made the kissing sweeter and his cock harden. As the kiss deepened Chris starting rocking his hips, too.

"Don't," Vin gasped when they parted for air.

"Don't?" Chris asked.

"Don't stop," Vin murmured. "Don't stop."

Chris pushed the covers off them then patted the bed.

"Floor," Vin said knowing what Chris was looking for and where it was.

He watched in the darkness as Chris went to the edge of the bed and leaned over to snatch the Vaseline up. He thought for a second that Chris was about to go ass over teacup and chuckled softly to himself.

Nothing wrong with Chris's balance, though. He applied more lubricant to his penis and once more settled between Vin's parted thighs.

The second time around was much more restrained, driven more by feelings than other needs or painful yearnings. Still, Vin could not keep from moaning continuously as Chris pumped in and out of him with long, deliberate thrusts.

Vin touched himself in time with those thrusts. They came together, the tiny starbursts behind Vin's eyelids growing brighter and more colorful as Chris's teeth sank into his shoulder.

The clean up wasn't as thorough this time. Chris used the now clammy washcloth then tossed it onto the floor and lay down. Vin fumbled for the covers, pulling them up to his shoulder. He rested his head on Chris's hot, damp stomach. Even without the comforting strokes of Chris's fingers through his hair or the soothing rise and fall of Chris's belly he would have been asleep in seconds.

Vin awoke with a start. He had been dreaming about the basement. Panting softly, he sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face. Chris mumbled something, his right arm waving, searching.

Vin leaned down and caressed his cheek with curled fingers. "Shh," he whispered as he pressed his lips to Chris's forehead.

He waited until he was sure Chris wouldn't stir again and slipped out of bed, padding quietly to the bathroom. When he was done, he picked his sweats up off the floor and stepped into them. He grabbed Chris's T-shirt off the chair in the corner and left the room, easing the door closed behind him.

Vin noticed with some interest that the guestroom door was open and the bed made. Noticed there was coffee in the kitchen. He hesitated by the coffeemaker, tempted. But his stomach was too empty. He'd had nothing but a roll in over twenty-four hours. Breakfast would have to precede coffee. But that took a back seat to checking on Chris's other guests.

The convertible was still open in the den but unoccupied. Folks were up and about awful early, Vin thought as he went outside.

Ezra was sitting on a deck chair at the head of the picnic table, sipping his coffee. Vin sat on the picnic bench and swung one leg over, wincing slightly at the pull he felt.

Ezra looked up at him, a sly smile lifting one corner of his mouth more than the other.

Vin sighed, deep and dejected. "You heard," he said.

"I believe the good citizens of the next county heard," Ezra said with a smirk.

"Great," Vin mumbled.

"Am I to judge from your demeanor that it was not as earth shattering as it sounded?" Ezra inquired. When Vin didn't answer he added, "That, perhaps, is a good thing. For the Team, I mean. If it was half as good as it sounded I was prepared to beat a path to Mr. Larabee's bedroom door at the first opportunity. Things could have gotten rather messy then."

Vin let that one slide, too, though the messy echoed in his brain. "Buck and JD?" he asked.

"They left," Ezra said. "Claimed they would be in the way if they tarried."

"Fuck," Vin said softly.

"Yes, you did. And you are being awfully stingy with the details," Ezra complained.

"Shut up, Ez," Vin said.

Ezra pretended to be taken aback. "My, but aren't we cranky for someone who got laid last night," he said and blew on his coffee. Just before he sipped it he murmured, "Twice."

Vin just shook his head and glanced over to the barn. Josiah was walking the path from there up to the house. He waved.

An encouraging sign, no doubt, that the status quo still reigned somewhere. Vin waved back.

Josiah ambled up the steps, pausing with one foot on the deck, hand on his knee. "Good morning, Vin," he said.

"Mornin', Josiah," Vin said.

"Mr. Tanner did not enjoy his romp with Mr. Larabee," Ezra said, one eyebrow raised skeptically. "Hard to believe, really."

Josiah held up his hands. "I know nothing. I think even less," he said.

"Oh, please," Ezra said, his other eyebrow arching as he rolled his eyes.

"We did turn off the phone, thought you could use the rest. Media was calling until all hours last night," Josiah said.

"Thought they might be camped out here, actually," Vin said as he looked over his shoulder towards the front of the house.

"There were some. Mr. Wilmington managed to scare them off before he departed," Ezra said. "He was really quite menacing. Impersonating our esteemed leader, or so he alleged."

Vin didn't want to think too long on the reason why Buck was able to sum up so much menace. Mainly because he had a feeling it had to do with more than a burning desire to protect Vin's privacy.

"We were thinking about breakfast. We're pretty hungry -- you must be starving. Join us?" Josiah asked, seemingly all too aware that Vin's thoughts were troubled and trying to change the subject.

Vin shook his head. "I need to get dressed. Gotta get back to town," he said.

Ezra started singing softly as Vin rose off the picnic bench. "Yellow is the color of my true love's hair..."

Vin gave him the finger before going inside.

Vin stopped by the guestroom to gather his clothing. He had two pairs of jeans in the dresser drawer. He picked the less worn of the two and grabbed a pair of clean underwear. All of his T-shirts were rumpled, faded, or both. It was too warm even for him for flannel and his denim button down had a hole. He decided to borrow Chris's long sleeve navy blue T-shirt.

He went back to Chris's room without even thinking. He could have easily showered in the guest bathroom and gotten the shirt later. But once in the room, he knew he'd stay.

Chris was asleep on his stomach. He looked different somehow and Vin realized he'd never seen Chris look so peaceful. Lost in a sweet dream, maybe, and completely at ease. Or just plain worn out.

Earth shattering sex could do that to you. No question Ezra's initial perception had been right.

Telling himself it was only for a minute, Vin lay down gently next to Chris. Folding his arms behind his head, he closed his eyes and listened to the soft snores emanating from the other pillow. He only jumped a little when a firm hand rubbed across his belly.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake ya," Vin said. He settled one hand on Chris's arm as it slowly glided across his stomach.

"It's okay," Chris said.

"Josiah and Ezra are hungry. Buck and JD left," Vin said.

Chris pulled his arm out from under and turned Vin's forearm out. "There's plenty of food in the kitchen. Think you need a tetanus shot?" he said in a voice hoarse from sleep and the other stuff.

"Don't rightly know. Maybe, between this and the chunk ya took outta my shoulder," Vin said. He honestly didn't mind about the love bite yet his tone was a bit chilly. His glare was downright icy. Both were owing to Chris's refusal to acknowledge Buck and JD's hasty departure.

Sighing, Chris said, "I heard you. I'll deal with Buck later."

"Deal with him how? Tell him it was a one-shot deal?" Vin asked.

Chris leaned up on his elbow. "Why? Is that what you want?" he asked.

Vin shrugged, aware that Chris was holding his wrist pretty tightly. "Ya had a lot of good reasons for us not gettin' together," he said.

"Yeah," Chris agreed, "I did. But I overlooked the one reason in favor of it. Kind of trumps all the others." As he spoke, his grip eased. With infinite tenderness, he began stroking Vin's inner arm just alongside the reddened broken skin.

"Buck..."

"You let me worry about Buck," Chris said.

"Look, I needed you last night. That's all it was supposed to be," Vin said softly, his eyelids growing heavy.

Chris sat all the way up. His fingers moved the entire time he spoke but his gaze was set on Vin's drained face. "Doesn't matter why we did it, Vin. The genie's out of the bottle. Do you really want to stuff it back in? I'm not sure I can, even if I wanted to."

Vin bit his bottom lip. So many thoughts and emotions were vying for supremacy in his mind but he was too exhausted to pinpoint any one in particular and respond.

Chris wasn't helping. "I've always tried to avoid confronting what I feel for you. I can't avoid it now. Not after we made love like we did last night," he said. "Any two people can get naked and fuck. To get off, to try and forget. Whatever, and it doesn't mean a thing. It's rare to be so completely exposed when you make love and know in your heart that it's okay. That you and your lover can't hold anything back from each other and it's okay. Trust me, Vin. It doesn't happen everyday."

Vin closed his eyes. It wasn't solely a matter of trusting Chris, he knew from experience that his words were true. But this was all wrong. Ricky was dead and here he was negotiating a relationship. He needed to get dressed and go see Mariposa and Fernando. He needed to eat something. He needed to think. He fought for clarity, the feather light caress of Chris's fingertips along his skin making it more and more elusive.

"Town," he mumbled.

Chris ghosted one kiss across Vin's lips, another over his temple. "Later," he whispered.

Hunger pains drew Vin from the deep, dreamless netherworld he had been inhabiting. He wished immediately to return there but that desire was accompanied by an unsettling feeling. Something was wrong.

He blinked himself the rest of the way awake.

Ricky.

Vin stared at the alarm clock for a few seconds before the time registered. It was after one. He had to get a move on.

He bypassed the kitchen though his stomach protested vehemently. He went looking for Chris in the den. He found him, clad only in his black jeans, watching the news.

Trying to ignore the expanse of tantalizingly smooth, bare flesh that extended to an undone button and partially open zipper, Vin sat. He put his feet up on the coffee table. There was no sign of Ezra or Josiah. He was happy to be rid of the former.

Chris rubbed Vin's knee. "Years of water damage weakened the foundation, caused the collapse," he said.

"Figured as much," Vin said. The story currently being reported was about something different. He didn't really care what.

"Structural engineer says the other buildings on the block are sound," Chris said.

"That's good," Vin said without much interest. He was less than anxious to go back home, despite knowing what he had to do. "Promised the Sandovals I'd come by."

Chris stood and stepped over his legs. "Uh-huh," he said succinctly and left the room.

Vin tilted his head back. He heard the refrigerator being opened and the microwave turning on. A deep growl in the pit of his stomach indicated how much food would be appreciated.

"Hold your horses," he snarled at his noisy gut.

He sat up when Chris set a plate of food down. Meatballs and spaghetti.

"Not Josiah's," Vin asked hesitantly, afraid to risk disappointment. Josiah had some secret ingredient that made his meatballs distinctly delicious.

"Yep. He made 'em just for you," Chris said as he followed the plate with silverware and a glass.

"Milk?" Vin asked incredulously.

"Well, you ain't getting a beer this early," Chris said.

"Who are you, the liquor authority?" Vin groused. "You sure as hell ain't my father."

Chris acted as if he hadn't heard. "I'm gonna grab a shower. You want to borrow a shirt?"

Vin took a small bite of meatball and waited. It tasted like heaven but he wasn't totally convinced his stomach wouldn't protest, despite all the noise it had been making. He took another bite and swallowed. "Yeah, your blue long-sleeved one," he said around a mouthful of spaghetti.

Chris left with a small nod and Vin polished off his lunch in near record time. He finished the milk Chris gave him and poured himself another glass in the kitchen.

After rinsing his plate, he went down the hall to Chris's room. They moved between the shared space of sink, toilet, and shower with an easy harmony, like they'd been doing that dance forever. Vin noticed it but didn't comment. He did let Chris kiss him before he got dressed. It was a good kiss and Vin was glad they did not have time for more. As much as he wanted it, doubt and maybe a little guilt swirled in his brain like a leaf caught in a whirlpool.

They stopped at a bakery in Purgatorio for Mexican bread pudding and banderillas before going to the Sandovals' home.

The street where they lived was crowded with vehicles. Cars were double-parked, parked on the lawn in front of their house, and parked two or three in a driveway, the last car in line blocking the sidewalk. That was just the kind of people the Sandovals were. Anyone arriving on foot to pay their respects essentially zigzagged their way to the house of mourning. Chris opted to park in front of Vin's building. They could walk the short distance in no time. He'd save himself some aggravation and give Vin an extra couple of minutes to steel himself.

There was a news van among the multitude of vehicles on the Sandovals' street. As Chris and Vin neared their destination, a camera was trained on them and a well-dressed attractive woman approached them, microphone extended.

Vin felt Chris tense beside him. "It's all right. Gotta say something sometime so they leave me alone," he said. He had to wonder how slow a news day it could possibly be that the press was even still interested in him.

He spoke briefly, denying that he was a hero and asserting that Fernando and Mariposa had a right to grieve free from the intrusion of strangers.

"Hero," Vin grumbled as he walked away. "Real heroic to sit and watch a boy die."

"Not everybody could have done what you did, Vin," Chris said quietly. He looked at Vin for a moment then looked away. "I mean, stay down there like that."

Vin didn't argue. Chris had a far away look in his eyes and Vin easily sensed it had something to do with Adam. Had it been more or less bearable for Chris because he had not witnessed his son's death? He sort of knew there had been a time when Chris wished he'd been there and died with his family. Having survived, was he at least consoled by the fact that he didn't see his wife or son draw their last breath? Or did he wish he'd had the opportunity to say one final good-bye?

Such speculation led Vin to consider the future, to where he and Chris were going in the aftermath of last night. Chris wanted to go to that near mythical place of total union, where you shared your most intimate dreams and hopes with each other. Where you shared your most blistering sorrows. He wanted it, too. Had wanted it for so long that he couldn't trust it was really going to happen.

Not to mention, he thought as he walked through the front door and picked up the doleful sounds that signified Mariposa's grief, the circumstances were entirely all wrong.

Vin left the Sandovals' just after sunset. He would not be able to avoid his corner forever and he preferred his first pass to be made in the daylight. However fading, it was less daunting than the prospect of confronting his searing memories of the day before in the heavy specter of night.

Chris had only stayed long enough to pay his respects. He had planned to drop in on Buck while he was in the city. And he had been keenly aware of Mariposa's disapproval at seeing him with Vin. She had accepted his condolences in an appropriate manner but managed through her tears and distress to convey her anger at his reticence toward someone she cared so much about.

Recollecting the scene had brought a smile to Vin's face as he walked home. Until he spotted the wrecked building and the makeshift wall that had been thrown up in a hurry around it. He stopped on the corner, near the memorial that had been planted in Ricky's honor.

Vin studied the pictures on the poster board. In each one Ricky sported a dazzling smile. Vin felt a ghostly hand capture his heart in a vice-like grip. His breath came in shallow and stuttered gasps. His vision blurred as he observed the burning candles, bouquets of mixed flowers, and the personal notes he couldn't quite read and didn't want to anyway. He just stood transfixed.

It was there that Chris found him twenty or so minutes later. He stood close to Vin and took his hand, twining their fingers. A bold move for those parts but Vin didn't pull away. Chris squeezed his hand reassuringly and Vin squeezed back.

They dropped hands to walk the distance to Vin's building. Chris waited downstairs while Vin threw a few things together to take out to the ranch.

Vin's mouth watered in the cab of Chris's truck. The sweet aroma of the bakery bread lingered even with the windows open. The driver filled him with a different kind of hunger.

"How was it after I left?" Chris asked.

Vin shrugged. "Bout the same." He was quiet for a long time. Then he said, "It ain't gonna be easy."

"I know," Chris said.

"I meant for Fernando and Mariposa," Vin said, turning his head toward Chris.

Chris met his eyes. "I know."

Later, Vin lay on his stomach in Chris's bed. They'd exchanged very few words since leaving town, each man lost in thought. Each man knowing they would share those thoughts, once they ordered them. They had crossed the line and whatever Vin's concerns, there was no going back. Not after Vin had sealed the deal by coming out to the ranch that night.

Chris massaged Vin's bare shoulders and neck. Vin cringed, his knotted muscles groaning in protest.

"Unhunch, Vin," Chris said quietly.

"I'm trying," Vin said.

He was trying. Chris's fingers were sinking in deep and it hurt. Vin wanted nothing more than to be able to relax and let go of the tension that held his upper body prisoner. It just wasn't happening.

Chris slid off him and lay on his side. He rested his hand on Vin's hip and watched him with worried eyes. Vin watched him right back, reluctant to resume their earlier conversation. To make it official. But the silence only conspired to bring the matter forth.

"How'd it go with Buck?" Vin asked at last.

Chris snorted. "He's a little put out," he said.

"Reckon that's putting it mildly," Vin said.

"He said some harsh things," Chris conceded. "Told him they were pretty funny coming from a guy who bought gay porn."

"Two strange guys gettin' it on in a stroke film ain't the same thing as your oldest friend suddenly fucking his best friend," Vin said.

"That's what he said," Chris said with a low chuckle.

Vin's expression showed his irritation at how lightly Chris was taking this.

"Don't frown, Vin. I've done a lot worse things than sleep with my best friend and Buck hasn't walked away from me yet. He's not going to do it over us becoming lovers. Not when he knows how much I want it, how important it is to me."

"It ain't gonna be easy for us either," Vin said.

"I know," Chris said.

Vin did not doubt Chris's sincerity. Nor did he doubt his own feelings. He might still check for an exit here and there but it would be more out of habit than any need to escape. He wanted this to work out for him and Chris more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. Still something nagged at him.

A broken image of Ricky's ashen face wavered before Vin's eyes. "Funeral's Wednesday," he said softly.

Chris didn't blink at the shift in the conversation. "I have a meeting but I can reschedule," he said.

Vin felt a pang of guilt. Chris was offering him everything and it kind of made him feel like he was somehow profiting from Ricky's tragic death. "You better mean it, Chris, or else Mariposa will have your balls on a platter," he teased without much enthusiasm.

Grinning, Chris said, "I mean it, Vin. I want to be there for you. I want to be with you always."

Vin tasted the honey in Chris's voice again and rolled over before Chris could say any more.

Chris embraced him from behind, his arm sliding over Vin's hip and gently pressing on his stomach. Vin covered Chris's hand, their fingers once more entwining.

Chris kissed the back of Vin's neck. "I love you, Vin," he said.

Vin saw Ricky's face again. That face would follow him into his dreams, maybe into a nightmare or two or twenty. And while it would haunt Vin with the pain of Ricky's senseless death, it would never haunt him with recriminations. He had done no wrong but rather, had kept his promise. He had found someone who loved him. The fact that it was Chris wouldn't bother Ricky or Mariposa for that matter. He believed they would be thrilled to know his feelings were returned.

Vin took a breath so deep his back cracked. The weekend had brought a couple of the most difficult days of his life. For the first time since it began with Chris's suggestive behavior in the parking lot of the Saloon, Vin felt like his body was free of tension and confusion.

He brushed his thumb over the back of Chris's hand. "I love you too, cowboy."

THE END