Main Characters: Vin Tanner, Chris Larabee, Chris/Vin

Category: Slash (explicit)

Author's Notes: Thanks so much to Spikedluv and Sassyinkpen for the betas! Y'all were great!! And extra special big squeezy hugs to both of you for being with me in this new obsession. ::hugs::

Voices in the hall, a man and a woman, woke Vin out of the light doze he'd fallen into. He held his breath, keeping still until they passed.

He hadn't spent enough nights here in Chris's room to know what the boarding house sounded like at night. Until he knew what would catch an ear, he had to be careful not to make any noise at all. He couldn't risk attracting anyone's ear here, where he hadn't ought to be. They couldn't afford for anyone to know about what they got up to in Chris's room late at night. Couldn't afford to lose the influence they'd fought so hard to gain over the men and women of the town.

And there was no doubt they would lose their place in the town, if word got out that they preferred each other's company to that of any of the women.

It ain't anybody else's lookout anyway, Vin thought, feeling mulish. Where a man finds comfort and peace ain't nobody's business but his own. But that's just not the way things work. Not in this world.

If he were with a woman...Vin snorted softly at the thought. The noise disturbed Chris's sleep and Vin gentled him back into it with a soft touch to his side. If Chris were to entertain a woman--that thought sat better in his mind--they could make all the noise they liked. Shouting and moaning. Thumping the bed against the wall. There'd be no care for what folks in the hall or the next room might think. The worst that would come of it would be some teasing from Buck the next morning. Vin could picture Buck standing there in the saloon, hat pushed back on his head, big grin splitting his face. Could almost hear the laughter and Buck's voice, "Chris, you old dog, you damn near brought the roof down on me last night."

He could also picture the reaction if he was found out in Chris's bed. Stony silence at best. The wrong end of someone's gun, maybe even Buck's, more likely.

So when he and Chris were together they had to be quiet. Quieter than mice. No bed rocking. Not a single grunt or groan to give them away.

Vin sighed. His arm was going to carry a bruise next day from where he'd bit it to keep in the noises he wanted to make when Chris rode him, long and slow and strong. Rubbing their two cocks together like they was made to be next to each other. It was the best feeling he'd ever known. He'd been with women before, paid for their time, and had never known anything could feel as good as Chris over him, cock to cock, muscles in his arms and chest bunched and tight as he thrust.

It felt so good Vin wanted to cry out, needed to. He'd always been good at keeping in pain. Pain he could hide inside until it was so deep folks just thought it were a natural part of him. But pleasure, the joy of feeling Chris over him hard and strong, rubbing against him, was too good to hide. That rapture wanted to come out of him in moans and shouts. It wanted to fly right up to the sky and circle there with the hawks.

So to keep it in he'd bite down on the pillow or, if he couldn't reach it, his arm. Anything to keep from making a noise that would give them away.

Chris never did seem to have any trouble keeping the pleasure in. Oh, it was there, Vin knew it. It was written all on his face, writing even Vin could read, but he kept his mouth tight. Maybe Chris needed to hold onto all the happiness he could find to fill up the painful, empty places inside.

Vin snorted again. Stupid, the thinking a man could get up to in the middle of the night when he was too spent to be useful but too awake to sleep.

Chris stirred against him and stroked a hand up Vin's back. Vin felt his skin ripple with the pleasure of it and he shivered. "Time for me to go, pard," he whispered in Chris's ear, then started to roll off their pallet on the floor. But Chris held on to him with an arm around his waist. Vin settled back. As long as he didn't fall asleep, he could stay a while longer.

"How's your arm?" Chris asked, his voice so soft Vin could barely make it out. He rested his hand over the bruise on Vin's arm and stroked gently.

"'S okay," Vin whispered after a moment. Damn, he'd have laid money down that Chris's eyes were shut as tight as his mouth. He'd been watching Chris's face these weeks, reading the pleasure there, but didn't know he was being watched too. Just a mite distracted, he supposed. After more footsteps passed by in the hall, he went on in a breath of whisper, "You ain't so good I'm gonna bite it off on accident or anything, Larabee."

Chris chuckled, then his face got serious. "One of these days, Vin Tanner, I'm going to take you out into the desert, just the two of us. And I'll finally be able to know how good I'm making you feel." His voice was as faint as the distant drift of noise from the saloon.

Vin looked away, grateful the darkness covered the burning of his cheeks. There was so much Vin wished he could say to that, praise and thanks first among them, but the night was listening, so he just murmured, "You know it's good, Chris, you been watching me."

Chris rolled them so that he was over Vin and rocked his hips down. Vin's cock rose up stiff, and he could feel Chris's just as hard against him. Vin pushed up, joy rising in his chest as they rubbed together so good. He reached to pull the pillow out from under his head, but Chris stopped him. "I want to see your face," he said, softly, "here." He slid two of his fingers into Vin's mouth and the feel of them, thick and rough and tasting of sweat and Chris, made Vin want to moan.

He started to bite down, to muffle himself, but those were Chris's fingers and he couldn't help but lick and taste. When he swiped his tongue down the length of them, Chris shuddered and his cock jumped. Vin gripped Chris's hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh of ass and groin, and thrust up hard. Earlier it had been slow and sweet, but not this time. Vin was already about gone, the feeling between them moving in fast and strong, unstoppable as a storm. Chris must have felt the same way, because he was thrusting short and quick, jabs of pleasure that made Vin feel like he was hit by lightning.

After a few more strokes, Vin bit down on Chris's fingers, holding them in his mouth while his cock throbbed and pulsed and his heart played rapture in silence. Held on until the urge to shout his joy had passed. Chris, over him, pressed his lips together in concentration and closed his eyes, eyelashes a smudge on his cheeks.

Vin ran his hand through the mess on his belly then took Chris's cock in a good strong grip, rubbing the tip of it with his slick thumb. Chris thrust one more time then came with a sigh Vin could see but not hear. Vin wiped off his stomach and hand with his bandana, then pulled Chris down next to him, keeping an arm around his back.

After a moment, Chris brought his hand into the moonlight and moved his fingers, still glistening with spit, in time with the faint sound of the saloon piano. He said, very softly, "You damn near took my fingers off, Vin. Guess I am that good after all."

Vin stifled a laugh that would have been almost as damning as the shouts he'd wanted to make a moment ago. "Reckon you are, cowboy."

**End**

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