No More Tears
Follows Cry for Help and Answering the Cry
Chris stepped out of the boarding house and breathed in deeply of the crisp morning air. He felt happier than he had in weeks. Buck had awoken early with him, and they had spent some time exchanging long, lazy kisses that almost made him abandon his duty in favor of spending the rest of the morning in Buck's bed, burying himself once more in the man's willing embrace. But Vin was waiting to be relieved after a long night and in the end Chris reluctantly rolled out of bed and pulled on his clothes, leaving Buck to burrow deeper under the blankets and drift happily back to sleep.
Hoping that Vin had remembered to keep the coffee brewing, Chris crossed the street and made his way to the jail. Vin was standing in the doorway waiting for him. He nodded a greeting and stepped aside to let Chris pass.
"Good night?" Chris asked
Vin nodded, "Nothing much happened here. You?"
Chris smiled to himself, unaware of how the expression softened his features, "Real good," he said.
Vin watched as Chris poured himself a cup of coffee, grimacing at the first mouthful. "Bucklin coming with us to Nettie's later today?" he asked.
"Said he would," Chris replied, leafing absently through some of the paperwork on the desk.
"I wasn't sure he was up to it. He looked pretty banged up when he came back from the ranch," Vin persisted. "You know anything about what happened to him there?"
Chris looked up and stared hard at the other man. "If you want to talk about Buck's business, I reckon you best take it up with him," he replied neutrally.
Vin snorted. "You know he won't hardly talk about anything that's between the two of you."
"Guess he has his reasons," Chris said, cooly.
"Reckon so. Reckon you have reasons too, for doing what you did to him. Don't make it right, though."
Chris moved out from behind the desk and stepped closer to Vin. "Let it alone, Tanner, " he warned, "cos what's between us sure as hell ain't any of your goddamned business."
By now the two of them stood inches apart, voices raised to carry. "I'm making it my business, Larabee," Vin snapped.
Chris forced himself to stay calm. "Don't try to get in the middle of something you don't understand," he said, voice low and cold.
Vin refused to back down. "I understand enough to know that he went to the ranch with you and came back black and blue," he said. "Maybe Nathan and JD believe that horse shit about falling off Steele, but I know the marks of a beating when I see 'em."
Chris flung his coffee cup across the room. "You try to come between me and Buck and you'll be sorry," he yelled.
Vin snarled back, "If you think you can beat the shit out of me like you do outta him you are sorely mistaken, Larabee. I ain't Buck. I ain't willing to play your whore."
"Vin?"
Both men turned, aware too late that Buck was standing in the doorway, looking from one to the other in confusion and growing dread.
"What's going on?" Buck asked.
"We was just having a discussion," Chris muttered. Vin wouldn't meet his eyes.
"About?" Buck's voice was hard-edged, but both men could hear the quiver in it.
"Nothing that concerns you," Chris said, more sharply than intended. He opened his mouth to soften the impact of the words, but he could see that the damage was done. Buck was looking at him with such hurt that Chris' stomach clenched.
"It's a little late to start lying to me, Chris," Buck said, his voice so soft Larabee could scarcely hear it.
Chris moved across the room and reached out to lay a hand on his old friend's arm. "Buck, I ..."
Buck shook him off angrily. Ignoring Vin, who had retreated to the furthest corner of the room, Buck looked directly into Larabee's eyes. "I trusted you," he whispered in anguish, "with everything I am, everything I was. I thought things could be different, but I'll never get away from it. All I'll ever be is a whore."
Chris flinched as though he had been struck. "Buck, please..." he started, real fear shading his voice.
"I thought I was safe here," Buck's words, no more than a breath, ghosted over him. Chris reached out again, but Buck jerked away, eyes flashing with fury. "You ever lay another fucking hand on me, Larabee and I'll kill ya," he hissed, and slamming the jail door behind him, he stormed out.
Chris slumped into a chair, hanging his head in his hands. "What the hell have I done?" he moaned. Vin, knowing the words were not directed at him, was asking himself the same question.
~~~~~~~7~~~~~~~
Buck left the jail and staggered blindly across the street. He couldn't believe what he'd just seen, the things he'd heard. The memories from years of hurt, carefully buried, came crashing back - the name calling, the knowing look in the eyes of strangers, the brutality, the constant degradation. And then meeting Chris and rediscovering joy and laughter and the ability to love. He had surrendered himself completely to Chris Larabee - had placed his very being into the man's hands and for all their years of clawing at each other, their arguments, even the blows they had exchanged, Chris had always kept his secrets safe, protected him when darkness threatened to descend.
And now this - Chris and Vin throwing his shame in each other's faces, using his private history as a means to tear at each other. The betrayal was soul-destroying. Unable to face the humiliation he had endured so often in the past, and afraid of what he might do if he saw Larabee again, Buck knew there was only one path open to him. He would have to leave Four Corners.
Stumbling into the boarding house, he gained the relative safety of his room and began to stuff his saddlebags with his meager possessions, surprised at how little space was needed to accommodate a lifetime. Grabbing up his gear, Buck headed to the stable and saddled Steele.
His heart ached to think of leaving without saying goodbye, especially to his youngest friend. But God, what would JD think if he found out? He had heard the disgust in Vin's voice. He shuddered when he remembered the words, "I ain't like Buck. I ain't a whore." He would rather die than see that same disgust in the eyes of the young man he had come to love as a brother.
Mounting up he rode to the edge of town, pausing for a moment to consider where he would go. Without a soul he could turn to for help, he let Steele have his head - one lonely town being just as good as any other.
~~~~~~~7~~~~~~~
When Buck had stormed out of the jail that morning, Chris had persuaded an anxious and remorseful Vin that it was better not to follow him. Despite his own longing to pursue the man and attempt to explain what he thought he'd heard, Chris knew that Buck would not want to talk to either of them right now.
Later in the day he'd learned that Buck had ridden out of town. He tried to keep himself busy while he waited for his friend's return, but began to fret when Buck hadn't reappeared by the end of the day. JD kept asking where Buck had gone, worried by the older man's lengthening absence and by Chris and Vin's increasing moroseness. The other peacekeepers began to express their own misgivings, remembering the bruised and battered man they had so recently tended, each in his own way. Finally, when Chris had exhausted what little patience he possessed, he crossed to the boarding house and climbed the stairs to his old friend's room.
Knocking at the door, his apprehension grew when only silence greeted him. Scrabbling in his pockets, he located the spare key Buck had given him months before and quietly opened the other man's door. The room was absolutely empty - no sign of Buck, no indication that he'd ever even lived there.
Chris stood in the middle of the room, totally lost. He and Buck had separated before in anger, sometimes spending weeks apart over a slight one or other of them had felt. But even as they stormed off, they knew they would eventually return to each other. Drifting back slowly once the hurt had healed, or flinging themselves back into the other's arms when temper had burned itself out and sense once more prevailed. Never before had Buck pulled up stakes so completely and Chris realized, too late, that this time was different. The hurt ran too deep, the perceived betrayal was too devastating. With sudden gut-wrenching clarity, Chris knew that Buck would not return. Overcome for one moment by sheer desperation, Chris pulled himself together quickly. He was not going to let this happen. There was nothing to do but to find the man and straighten things out between them.
Returning to his own room, Chris snatched up a few supplies and packed his own saddlebags. As much as he wanted to begin his search, he knew that he had a responsibility to the town and had to ensure that it was in good hands while he was gone. The other peacekeepers were waiting for him outside the jail to hear him announce that Buck had left Four Corners and that he was leaving too in order to bring their friend back home. JD was stunned, unable to believe that Buck would leave without a goodbye. It was all Chris could do to persuade the boy to stay in town while he was out searching, knowing that the last thing Buck would want when he was tracked down would be to face the accusations of his youngest friend. Extracting a promise from the remaining men to watch over the town, vowing in return that he would not rest until he had found Buck, Chris headed to the stable. He was not surprised when Vin began to follow him. He stopped and faced the other man, head cocked to one side in question.
"I'm going with you," Vin stated flatly. "It's mostly my fault he left."
Chris considered for a moment then shrugged. "Suit yourself," he replied. "Only don't slow me down 'cos I don't aim to stop until I find him."
~~~~~~~7~~~~~~~
Buck tossed restlessly, pounding the earth to try and carve out a more comfortable bed. He had wanted to put as much distance as possible between himself and Four Corners and had avoided all the towns within easy reach of the place. Now he found himself miles from anywhere, forced to make camp or fall out of his saddle with exhaustion. But despite his fatigue, sleep proved to be elusive. His thoughts kept drifting back to the events of the morning and it was beginning to dawn on him just how solitary his life was about to become.
Buck had weathered lonely spells before, when he and Chris had fought and one or the other of them had stormed away, needing to put some distance between them. But those separations seldom lasted long. Buck was too good-natured to hold a grudge, and Chris felt the loss of his friend's companionship so deeply that he usually swallowed his pride and sought reconciliation at the earliest opportunity. Their reunions had been sweet and loving, or passionate and intense, filled with awkward apologies and promises rarely kept.
Now Buck faced the fact that for the first time in a dozen years he was going to be truly alone. He already missed Chris, with an ache so fierce it felt like a physical pain. But he also missed the unexpected friendship he had found with the diverse group of men who made up the Four Corners peacekeeping team. Loners, drifters, damaged in a hundred different ways, yet forging a bond so strong that Buck had actually thought of them as family. Now his "brothers" were lost to him, and he once more faced life as an outcast. Buck finally drifted into a troubled sleep, wondering how he would endure life without Chris - the man he had trusted so completely, depended on so desperately, loved so profoundly.
Several miles away, Chris and Vin had established their own camp. Vin had had little trouble following Buck's trail and they had ridden relentlessly in pursuit of their friend. However, increasing darkness had forced them to call a halt and the two were now encamped on a wide stretch of flat ground. Vin wondered why Buck had made no attempt to hide his trail, and realized that he probably didn't expect anybody to follow him. He couldn't understand how a man beloved by so many people could have so little faith in himself. Did Buck really believe that his friends would just let him drift away? Vin shuddered, remembering his own part in driving Buck out of Four Corners. God, he hadn't meant his friend to hear those ugly words. He cursed himself anew for allowing his anger at Larabee to cloud his judgment. For the hundredth time that day, Vin stole a glance at Chris, wondering what the man was thinking. As usual, his body and face gave nothing away. But his dogged pursuit of Buck spoke of his commitment to the man who had been a friend for over a dozen years, and who, Vin had recently discovered, was also his lover.
Chris sat wordlessly, staring into the fire, remembering other camps he and Buck had made during their long years together. Boisterous, noisy nights on the trail - stealing away endlessly to fuck each other. Panting with exertion and the thrill of the illicit, they were so hot and hard and needy that sometimes all it took was a grope and a fumble to bring each other off. Peaceful, easy nights after Chris married Sarah when he and Buck had been away from home to attend a horse fair or a market. Their couplings on those rare occasions were filled with tenderness, easy laughter and an almost boyish sense of fun. Sarah, untroubled, had called it their "fooling around time". Violent, stormy nights after Sarah's death. Drifting between unnamed towns. Usually drunk, often careless, sometimes cruel, the two men had discovered needs they hadn't known existed. They had explored the dark side of each other, finding the place where pleasure and pain were almost one and where memories could be obliterated in white-hot passion. And recently, when a job demanded that they hit the trail together, they had rediscovered their deep joy in one another. With nobody around to stifle their voices or their inventiveness, they had fed needs no other lover would ever satisfy, forged a bond so deep no other partner could ever hope to match it. Could it be possible, Chris wondered, that all those years together would be destroyed by a few misplaced words?
Chris was startled out of his reverie by Vin's voice, echoing his thoughts. "What if he won't come back with us?"
Chris shook his head, "I won't let that happen," he stated firmly.
"Ain't exactly up to you is it?" Vin said gently.
Chris was silent for a moment. "If he won't go back to Four Corners, I won't either," he said softly, glancing at Vin to gauge his reaction. "I go where he goes."
"What if he doesn't want you?" Vin asked, immediately sorry he'd voiced the thought when he saw the stricken look that flashed across his friend's face. "Does he mean that much to you?" he asked softly.
"Yes."
"You'd pull up stakes and move on for him?"
"I'd do just about anything for him," Chris said, simply.
Taking a deep breath, prepared to back down if Chris didn't want to discuss it, Vin asked; "How long have you two been lovers?"
Chris looked at him sharply, surprised but not embarrassed. "How do you know?" he asked.
"The way you two are with each other," he said. Then blushing, "and I saw you together, the other night in Buck's room. You were ... er, I mean, you two were..."
"Fucking, Vin. That the word you're looking for?" Chris smiled. Vin nodded.
Chris seemed to consider his answer for a moment. "We've known each other more than twelve years," he began, watching as Vin's face registered surprise. "We tell people we met during the war, but we met a ways before that. Buck .... well, he has some things in his past he ain't so proud of, things he don't care other people to know about...." he trailed off.
"Something to do with what he said this morning?" Vin asked softly.
Chris looked at Vin, torn by conflicting emotions. He absolutely trusted that this man would safeguard Buck's secrets, but he was unwilling to expose his best friend to the possibility of judgment or rejection. Having spent years closely guarding the details of Buck's life and fiercely protecting him from exposure, he was loath to say anything that might jeopardize the fragile peace Buck had worked so hard to attain.
Vin, easily reading his friend's struggle, simply nodded. "You don't need to say anything more," he said, and was rewarded with a grateful smile.
"What about when you were married?" Vin asked, curiosity getting the better of his normal discretion.
"We fucked a lot less," Chris replied, grinning, then turned serious to continue. "Sarah knew what we'd been to each other, she knew he was a big part of my life. Buck and I mostly stayed out of each other's beds - just fooled around a little when we were away from home a time or two. Things changed between us. It became less about screwing all the time, more about making a family together. Sarah was crazy about him. And Adam, well Adam thought the sun rose and set on his Uncle Buck." Chris smiled at the memory, then seemed to crumble, hiding his face in his hands. "God, it was the happiest time of my life, " he whispered. "All the people I loved most in the world."
Vin felt his heart constrict. "We'll find him, Chris. We'll bring him home," he said, hoping he sounded more positive than he felt.
Chris took a deep breath and seemed to collect himself. "We'll ride out at first light," he said. "He can't have gotten too far ahead of us. We'll catch up to him tomorrow and work this out."
By the next afternoon, when Chris and Vin rode wearily into a small trail town, their hope was beginning to fade. Vin had tracked the lone horseman easily, even though he was riding fast and furious. Buck seemed hell-bent on getting as far away as possible from his Four Corners home. Although they had ridden hard all day, Chris was feeling frustrated that they had not gained much time on their friend. He was determined to push on past the small town, but Vin persuaded him to stop for a decent meal and to restock their meager supplies. Riding into the town's only stable, Chris suddenly pulled up short and exclaimed, "He's here."
Vin crowded in behind him, seeing Buck's horse housed in one of the stalls. Barely taking the time to stable their own mounts, Chris and Vin crossed the narrow street to the small saloon. When they found no sign of their friend, they inquired of the saloon owner who confirmed that Buck had arrived a few hours ahead of them and that he was currently renting one of the rooms above. Picking up a bottle of whiskey and three glasses, the two men climbed the stairs and knocked on the door.
~~~~~~~7~~~~~~~
Buck had ridden into town some hours earlier, found a small but clean room in the town's only saloon and made a trip to the bathhouse. Although he had spent years riding the range, he had never gotten used to the filth and grime of a long trail. Feeling happier now that he was clean, he had just decided to seek out a little hot food and a drink or two when he heard a knock at his door. Drawing his gun, he opened his door a crack, startled to see Chris and Vin standing outside.
"What do you want?" he demanded, holstering his weapon.
"Buck, can we come in and talk to ya?" Vin asked.
"Got nothing to say to you," Buck replied. He was about to close the door when Chris stepped forward.
"Please, Buck. Just give us five minutes to explain."
"There's nothing I want to say to you, and nothing I want to hear, either," Buck continued, stubbornly.
"Goddamn it, Buck," Chris exploded, "You might be ready to throw away all those years without a fight, but I ain't. Now, you gonna let us in, or do you want the whole saloon to hear our business 'cos I ain't leaving until I said what I come to say?" Knowing that Larabee didn't make idle threats, Buck sighed and stepped aside, allowing the two men to enter.
The small room was simply furnished with a bed, a table and a single chair. Buck stepped over to the window and looked out, turning his back on them and putting himself as far out of their reach as possible in the narrow space. Vin claimed the chair and Chris stood awkwardly beside him, wanting nothing more than to reach out to his oldest friend, but knowing the other man would not allow it. An awkward silence settled on the group, broken finally when all three spoke at once,
"I ain't going back ....."
"Come home with us, Buck ....."
"Let me explain...."
All three stopped. Vin cleared his throat. "Buck, I don't know what you heard when Chris and I were shouting at each other. But what I said .....I didn't mean no disrespect to you."
Buck continued to look out of the window. "Ain't no disrespect in the truth, son"
"I called you... a name .... But I didn't mean what I said," Vin tried again.
Buck laughed, "You called me a whore, Vin," he said, missing the way the word made the younger man wince. Buck turned from the window, "But don't worry none. Didn't Chris tell you? It's what I am."
Chris made a low sound and took a step towards his friend. "Buck, I swear to you, on Sarah and Adam's graves, I didn't tell Vin anything. We were talking about you, I admit to that, but whatever you think you heard, we were not talking about your past."
Buck looked from one to the other, trying to find the truth in their faces. "That name had to come from somewhere," he said. He looked at Vin, pain and confusion etched clearly on his handsome face. "Why'd you call me that, Vin? Is that the way you see me?"
"Christ, no!" Vin exploded.
"Then why?" Buck demanded.
Vin shifted uncomfortably on his chair. "It's what you called yourself, Buck. When you came back from the ranch that day, " he said softly. "You called yourself Larabee's whore."
Dawning comprehension spread slowly across Buck's face. "You came to my room," he said, "You asked me what happened, what he'd done to me." Vin nodded. " I called myself that - Larabee's whore? I must have been pretty messed up."
"You were." Vin risked a glance at Chris, who was so focused on Buck that he didn't seem to notice.
For the first time since they'd arrived, Buck looked directly at Chris. "So, you didn't tell him?" he asked softly. Chris shook his head. Buck closed his eyes briefly, feeling the heavy load of sorrow, loneliness and betrayal melt away.
"I heard that word - whore," he said. "I've been called that so many times, I didn't think I could stand to hear it all over again, not from you Vin, not from a friend."
"I'm real sorry, Bucklin," Vin said. "I swear I didn't mean anything by it."
Buck waved him off. "Not your fault, son. I ain't never told you much about my past, you weren't to know that name carries a lot of pain for me."
"Buck, I never wanted to hurt you...."
"Hell, boy, I know that. Buck smiled at him and for the first time in days Vin felt as though he might be able to forgive himself for the hurt he had caused. He hung his head in his hands, thankful that his friend had been restored back to them.
Chris took a step closer to Buck, leaning in to murmur, "Vin knows about us."
Buck looked startled. "You told him?"
"No," Chris assured. "He saw us together. Couple of nights ago when we were fucking in your room."
Buck winced a little. "He okay?"
Chris nodded. "Seems to be." He paused. "Look, Buck. I reckon he knows something about your past too. Not the details, but I think he figgered out why you were so upset when you heard him say what he did."
Buck ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that always tugged at Chris' heart. He longed to gather the other man up into his arms, but this was not the time or place for that.
"You think I should tell him?" Buck asked.
Chris shrugged. "I don't want to see you get hurt..." he began.
"I don't think Vin would do that, Chris."
"It ain't an easy thing for people to hear," Chris said gently. "But if it's what you want to do."
Buck could hear the anxiety in his friend's voice. He glanced at Vin. "It'll be alright," he said.
"It's your decision," Chris replied. "Whatever you think is best."
"Will you stay with me while I tell him?" Buck asked.
Chris did reach out then, to brush a hand gently down the other man's cheek.
"Just try to keep me away," he whispered.
Buck took a deep breath and turned to face Vin, who was sitting expectantly, watching the play between his two friends.
"Chris tells me you know about me and him," he began.
Vin cut him off, "I didn't mean to pry into your business, Buck."
Buck shrugged. "I ain't sorry you found out. I'm just sorry I didn't tell you myself."
"Jesus, Buck, you don't own me any apologies," Vin said.
"Yeah, I do. I think of you as a friend. Friends shouldn't hold secrets from each other. I'd like to change that if you'd let me. I'd like to tell you about my past, if you could stand to listen to it."
Vin glanced at Chris, who nodded. "I'd be honored, Buck," he said simply.
Chris stepped up to the table. "Reckon we could all use one of these," he said, pouring a measure of whiskey into each of the three glasses. He pushed a glass across the table towards Vin and handed one to Buck, who hadn't moved away from the window. Sitting on the bed, close enough to reach out to Buck if needed, he waited for his friend to begin.
"You know my ma was a working gal?" Vin nodded. "I spent my childhood wandering the Northern townships from saloon to cathouse to brothel. Whenever things got too hard for her we'd pull up stakes and drift again. There was always a place willing to hire a young, pretty woman and none of 'em minded me tagging along as long as I was willing to contribute. First just washing dishes, chopping wood - all the chores you'd expect in any household. Then later, when I got bigger and stronger, I'd help out if things got too rough - kicking out drunken cowboys when they got mean, rolling those who refused to pay." He paused, tossing down the glass of whisky, holding it out to Vin for a refill, then continued softly. "Came a time I was about 13 years old and my mama got hurt real bad. She had to have her jaw reset when a couple of trail hands took to beating on her. She was in real bad shape, couldn't work for a while. The cathouse owner wasn't exactly full of the milk of human kindness. He threatened to turn us out unless we came up with the money to pay our room and board. We needed medicines and the doctor wanted his fee..." Buck stopped again.
"You don't have to do this, Buck," Vin said, seeing how hard the words were coming.
"Let him," Chris ordered.
Vin shot the man a hard look. "He don't have to do this for my sake," he snapped.
Chris didn't even look at him, his attention was so firmly fixed on Buck. "It ain't for your sake it's for his," he said, and Vin was surprised to see the look of gratitude Buck shot his oldest friend.
"If it's what you want, Buck..." Vin said.
"Need to clear it out of my system, if that's okay with you?" Buck replied.
Vin nodded and the other man took another deep breath and continued; "We needed the money so I started to take on customers. There were plenty who didn't mind going with a boy, especially 'cos the owner didn't charge as much for my services. A lot of 'em were more than willing to teach me what was expected of a whore. When my mamma recovered she put an end to it, but after that, whenever she got sick or hurt I took it back up. It got easier after the first time. By the time she got really ill at the end, I thought nothing of whoring to survive. I sold myself every single day until she died. It took her seven months."
Buck stopped talking, and there was silence in the room for a moment. Vin looked stricken, his heart aching for the man and the boy he had once been. He'd seen plenty of abuse and hardship in his own young life, but he'd never been reduced to selling himself to stay alive.
When Buck continued, his voice was gentle. "Chris came along just before my ma died." He reached out, almost absently and cupped the other man's face briefly. "We've been together ever since."
Quiet settled on the room once more. Buck glanced at Chris, afraid of what Vin's silence might signify. Chris shrugged, unable for once to read the tracker's thoughts.
"Vin?" Buck said, quietly.
Vin looked up. Buck's eyes revealed his emotional state - fear and anxiety, but also a hint of resignation, as if steeling himself for inevitable rejection. How many times, Vin wondered, had this man been betrayed in the past?
Without thinking of the consequences, Vin stood up and went to stand face-to-face with Buck. Wordlessly, he opened his arms and gathered his friend into a fierce hug. Buck's body was rigid in Vin's arms for just a moment, then he heaved a great sigh and relaxed into the embrace, allowing himself to be comforted.
"I'm honored you told me, Bucklin," Vin whispered, "And I'm proud to count you as a friend."
Buck raised his head, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "Glad to have met you, Vin Tanner. A man couldn't ask for a finer friend." Pulling the younger man back into an embrace, Buck held tightly for a moment, trying to collect himself.
"God, I need another drink!" Chris exclaimed. Buck and Vin laughed and released each other. Buck swiped quickly at his eyes and held out his glass for a refill and the three men drank gratefully.
Buck finally moved away from the window and sat beside Chris on the bed. Vin smiled to see how Chris' whole body yearned towards his friend. Knowing these two had a lot to sort out, he quickly downed his drink. "I reckon you two need to talk." Chris shot him a look of pure gratitude. "Why don't you come down a little later, see if we can't find a decent meal in this place?"
"We'll be down in a bit," Buck said. As Vin opened the door Buck called out, "Thanks, for everything, pard."
Vin smiled, tipped his hat to the two men and left, closing the door behind him.
For a moment neither man spoke, then Buck said softly, "Guess I owe you an apology."
Chris waved him off. "You don't owe me anything. Just come home with us, Buck. Let's get things back to where they were."
He reached out a hand, but Buck pulled away.
"Can't do that, Chris," he said softly. "I can't go back to that."
And Chris felt his whole world shatter.
~~~~~~~7~~~~~~~
Buck stood up and refilled his glass, tossing the contents off quickly. He held the bottle out to Chris, who shook him off impatiently. Shrugging, Buck set the bottle and glass back down and returned to the window, steeling himself for what was about to come.
"Why, Buck?" Chris finally asked. "Why can't you come home with us?"
"Like I said to Vin, friends shouldn't allow lies and secrets to come between them," Buck replied.
Chris' voice shook with anger, "I ain't never lied to you, Buck," he said, "And there ain't a thing I ever kept from you. What the hell are you talking about?"
Buck turned to face his friend. "I went back to it, Chris. To whoring."
Larabee's head jerked in shock. A feeling of dread slowly spread through him. "When?" he whispered.
"After Sarah and Adam died, when we were drifting together. You were awful sick. We needed to eat but you couldn't work and I was afraid to leave you alone too long 'cos you could hardly look after yourself and I thought you might try to ...." his voice trailed off. "We needed to eat," he stopped again, unhappy with the plaintive note that had crept into his voice. He took a deep breath and started again, his voice stronger this time. "We needed to eat so I peddled my ass again."
Chris tried to push down the nausea rising in him. He swallowed several times before he managed to choke out, "You sold yourself - to keep me in whiskey?" his voice rose in incredulity, "Because I was too goddamned useless to make it on my own?"
"That's not the way it was, Chris," Buck said sharply. "You were sick."
"I was drunk," Chris cut in.
Buck waved him off. "You had your reasons."
"Yeah. I had reasons. But there ain't a reason in the world worth what you did for me," Chris said.
"That was my damn decision, not yours," Buck snapped. "I did what was needed. It's over."
"You worked so hard to put that all behind you," Chris whispered. "I was supposed to protect you. Instead I turned you back into a whore."
Buck stepped towards him and lifted his chin. "You don't understand do you?" he asked, softly. "What I did to keep my ma alive, to keep you alive, I ain't ashamed of that. I did what was needed for the people I loved." He slid both hands to cup the other man's face. "The only time it hurts, Chris, is when you want me to be a whore for you."
Chris stiffened in outrage and opened his mouth to speak but Buck cut him off. "I know you don't want to see it that way but I lived that life. I saw the men coming in stinking of whiskey because they didn't have the balls to do what they wanted while they were sober. I've been forced to do what somebody else wanted, to have that person take out his rage and frustration on me just because he paid for it. You do that, Chris, when you take me to the ranch. You take out your anger on my body, and I don't even know what I've done to piss you off. You do what you want to me 'cos you know I won't stop you and you hide behind a whiskey bottle just like they did. You make me feel worthless, like I mean nothing to you. You turn me back into a whore and its destroying me, Chris. It's gonna destroy us."
Chris pulled away, furious, and scrambled to his feet. Buck took a step back but held his ground, refusing to let the other man back him down. "You said you never lied to me, Chris, but that's horse shit. Pretending you don't know what I mean, that's the same as a lie."
Chris stepped closer, till they were almost touching. "You want honesty?" he growled, "Then listen up!" Grabbing the other man by the shirt he pulled him close and whispered furiously into his ear. "It ain't about turning you into a whore. It's about showing you that you are mine." Buck stiffened but did not try to pull away. "I see you with the rest of them - JD, Ezra, Vin, hell, even the working gals think they own you. But none of them know anything about you."
Before Buck realized what was happening, Chris had pushed him down to sit on the edge of the bed. Standing between his legs, Chris tangled his hands in Buck's thick, dark hair, pulling his head back savagely. "You were a whore once and anybody could have you - but I'm the only one who owns you now. God, do you know what it feels like to watch you kneel to me, to see you surrender all you are to me? Do you know what it is to see my mark on you and know you'll never let another living soul touch you like that again? Do you have any idea how it feels to know I can do what I want to you because you fucking belong to me. You are everything to me. Sometimes I have to remind you of that."
Flinging himself away, Chris stumbled to the table, his whole body trembling. Buck didn't move for a moment, stunned by the revelation. He watched as Chris took a long pull from the whiskey bottle, and took his turn at the window, his back to the room. "Was that fucking honest enough for you?" Chris asked, his voice shaking with emotion.
Buck rose from the bed. Approaching Chris a little warily he slid his arms around the other man's waist, feeling him stiffen slightly in surprise. Pulling Chris up tightly against his body he whispered, "Don't you know I'll always belong to you? Body, heart and soul - they're yours. Have been since the day we met, will be 'till the day we die." Buck bent to nuzzle a kiss into Chris' neck. "I'll do anything you want me to, you don't need whisky, you don't need force. I'm yours. I surrendered myself to you years ago."
Chris turned in the sheltering circle of the other man's arms. He looked at Buck and felt a surge of feeling - emotions so mixed he could scarcely untangle them. Overpowering lust, deep protectiveness, fierce joy, and, despite the catharsis of his confession, he still detected the threads of possessiveness, the compulsion to dominate and control.
"When was the last time I told you how much I love you?" he asked. Buck looked startled. "Have I ever told you how much you mean to me? How I can't imagine my life without you?" he continued.
"You don't need to say those things. You show me every day," Buck said.
Chris reached up to stroke a finger gently over the man's cheek - still bruised from the last time he had submitted himself to Chris at the ranch. "You mean like this?" he asked, in disgust. "How can you stand to be touched by me again, after what I just told you?"
Buck smiled, so playfully that Chris felt a jolt of lust surge through him. Leaning in, Buck kissed him slowly, deeply, then pulled away, leaving Chris breathless and painfully aroused.
"I love you, Chris," he said simply.
Then, moving so quickly that Chris couldn't react, Buck slammed him up against the wall, grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head. Eyes flashing, he covered Chris' body with his own, pressing their groins together. He leaned in and hissed into the other man's ear, "Do you know what it feels like to have Chris Larabee on his knees in front of you while you slowly push your cock down his throat? Do you know what it's like to throw him over a table and fuck him so hard that he can't even catch his breath?"
Chris gasped and jerked in surprise, but Buck only held him tighter. He ground his aching cock against Chris and continued to whisper fiercely in his ear.
"And do you know what it feels like to watch the man thrash around on your bed and moan out your name? To work him until you make him beg?" Buck dropped a hand to free the other man's cock, stroking until Chris groaned and thrust up against his hand. "You're gonna beg for me soon, Larabee," he murmured.
Chris arched in frustration, pinned in place by Buck's superior strength and the force of his own desire. Buck swiped a tongue along his throat, burrowing his head in the man's neck and sucking so hard that Chris didn't know if the jolt that shot through him was pleasure or pain. Unable to stop himself, he moaned out loud.
Buck grabbed his face, forcing Chris to look at him. "And do you understand what it feels like to know that you're the only man who'll ever do any of those things to him? That he'd kill anybody else who tried?"
Chris collapsed as Buck suddenly let him go and stepped back. He shuddered when Buck reached out to gently trace a finger over his lips.
"I want you to kneel for me now, Chris," he ordered softly.
And without hesitation Chris sank to his knees.
The End
*Author is deceased