Disclaimer: The characters from The Magnificent 7 don't belong to me, they belong to MGM, Mirisch, and Trilogy. I'm not making any money off them. If you'd like to sue, you'll have to take a number behind the student loan people, Visa, and the car loan people. Rating: NC-17 for explicit m/m sex
Notes: Thanks so much to my wonderful betas: Judy for her enthusiasm, and TrishA for her extra-fine-toothed beta's comb. This is my first slash fic.
Feedback: Please, but something I learned from Creative Writing classes: If you're going to tell me it sucks, at least tell me why.
Prologue
The fire burned low. Two men watched it silently, the only sound the occasional pop of wood and the soft snicker of horses behind them. "Probably shouldn't let that go out," Vin Tanner said quietly."Probably not." When Chris Larabee made no move to replenish the fire, Tanner stood and went for more wood. He tossed it on the low flame, then sat back down.
Several more minutes passed in silence.
"Them girls at that saloon back in Langdon were mighty scrawny," Tanner said.
Larabee looked at him. Vin felt it, but he couldn't see Chris's eyes in the darkness where he sat outside the scope of the fire. "You're mighty talkative tonight," Larabee said.
Vin shrugged. "Just sayin'."
After a few more minutes of silence, Larabee said, "They were scrawny. Couldn't see paying good money for skin and bones."
Vin nodded. "Me neither. Be like humpin' kindling."
Chris smiled slightly. "You know that from experience, Vin?"
"Shit. Man gets lonely enough, anything sits still for too long looks invitin'."
Chris could see Vin's grin through the shadows caused by the fire. "I'll take your word on the kindling," he said. He changed his sitting position, stretched one dark-clad leg closer to the fire. "Girls back in town aren't much better," he added.
"Agree with ya there."
The night grew later; stars rose higher in the black sky. Again the fire grew low, and again Vin added a few more sticks to increase the flame. He felt Chris's eyes on him still. When he sat back down, he moved closer to the fire. Shadows and orange light played across his face as he stared into the flames.
Crickets and frogs sounded in the distance. There was a slight rustle as one of the horses nudged a bush. Vin waited. He'd once out waited a Comanche renegade hiding in the mountains; he could wait for this. When the flames lowered a third time, Vin let them die out. He heard Chris change positions again, the slight rustle of his duster against the dirt.
"So, you wanna?" Chris said finally.
Vin paused. "I reckon can't hurt none." He stayed seated. Chris rose and walked toward him. "Beats the hell out of firewood."
Chris didn't answer. Clouds hid the moon. The only light came from a few stars that managed to break through and the fire's dying embers. Vin watched Chris's silhouette before him remove the long coat and hat. Chris unbuckled his gun belt and set it near and started on his pants. Vin followed suit, leaving on his coat because of the slight chill, but placing his gun within inches of his hand.
"What're we gonna use?" Vin asked before undoing his pants.
"You're the expert."
Vin paused. "You ever done this before, cowboy? Cause I don't fancy the idea of riding all the way back to town with something busted."
"Once or twice," Chris said. "Didn't bust nothing, far as I know."
"All right, then grab that tub of grease from my saddle bag." He finished undoing his pants, and turned around on his hands and knees. His fingers brushed the barrel of his gun. He heard Chris kneel behind him, and shivered.
"You cold? I got my coat here," Chris said.
"Nah, I'm fine. Hopefully be warm in a second." He slid his pants down, and waited. Chris rested one hand on Vin's naked hip, and dipped the other in the grease. He slathered it on the crack of Vin's ass. "Shit, that's cold!" Vin said, bucking a little.
Chris grinned. "Sorry, pard." Watching Vin's ass jump and spreading the grease around his hole got a slight rise out of Chris's cock; he used his hand to stroke it harder. He saw Vin raise one hand to stroke his own and Chris rubbed the grease inside the hole. Vin tensed, and Chris waited until he relaxed, then inserted another finger.
"Think I'm about ready, cowboy," Vin said. Chris removed his fingers and pressed his cock to the entrance, rubbing more grease around it. Then with one swift stroke he plunged in. Vin arched his back, his hand falling away from his cock to balance himself on the ground. "Jesus, Larabee, warn a guy first." He lowered his head and took a few deep breaths, willing himself to relax.
"You said you were ready," Chris responded. He waited again until he felt the muscles surrounding his cock loosen, although it took all his control not to just start pumping. "You ready now?" he asked.
"Reckon."
"You sure?"
"Just go, for Christ's sake." At that, Chris did start pumping, the friction making him swell inside Vin. He closed his eyes and grabbed Vin's hips, thrusting in and out as fast and hard as he could. The grease made the passage warmer than the last time he had done this, and he let himself enjoy the warmth.
Vin braced himself against the ground as Chris thrust into him. His own cock, which had gone limp when Chris first entered him, started to swell again slightly as Chris filled him and pulled out. Vin wanted something, something he could almost feel, something very close, but he didn't know what it was. It was so close, and Vin really wanted it. "Chris!" He called out.
"Chris!"
Chris stopped pumping him. "What? You hurt?"
Vin's shoulders slumped, and he hung his head, panting. "No, I ain't hurt."
"Then what?"
"Nothing. Keep going, just like you're doing."
Chris hesitated a second, then started again. He was so close to coming, he didn't know if he could stop again.
Vin still couldn't name what it was he wanted, so he reached up and began pumping his own cock wildly, the rough treatment easing him somewhat. He felt Chris's balls slap against his, and he pumped harder and faster, then bucked again as he came in his hand, the liquid squirting through his fingers into the dirt. As Vin came, he tightened his ass around Chris's cock, and Chris came too, shooting his seed into Vin and still pumping, trying to get out every drop. When he was finished, he slumped slightly against Vin's back, both men breathing hard. Then Chris pulled out, wiping himself down with a bandanna. Vin did the same. They straightened their clothes, and each sat down on his bedroll. Vin pulled his coat tighter around him, shivering slightly.
"You sure you don't want my coat?" Chris asked him.
"No," Vin answered. Chris shrugged and lay down on the blanket, placing his hat over his face. Vin sat before the low embers of the fire for a few minutes. He still had that feeling he couldn't quite place, like there was something he wanted and almost had, but he'd missed it. He tried to shake it off, watching Chris's easy slumber. How the hell could he want something if he didn't even know what it was? Finally his shivering calmed enough so he could get some sleep.
Two months later...
The noon stage was due any minute. It was a tribute to how bored several of the town's peacekeepers were that they braved the sweltering heat just to see whoever got off the stage. Buck Wilmington, his normal exuberance drained somewhat by the heat, still managed to keep up a conversation, which was more than the other men at the table were willing to do. "I hope a really pretty lady gets off the stage--maybe a singer for the saloon or a schoolteacher. This town really needs a schoolteacher, with long blonde hair and big blue eyes. That's what this town is missing," he said."This town is missing many of the accoutrements of civilization," Ezra Standish replied. He shuffled a deck of cards in his hand, occasionally stopping to pull out the ace of spades.
"We got that new electric lamp in the hotel," JD Dunne said. "That's civilized."
Standish glanced at him. "Thank you for illustrating my point," he said.
For all appearances, Vin Tanner appeared to be asleep under the brim of his hat. But he softly drawled, "Stage coming," seconds before the stage sped down the middle of town, halting right in front of the table where the four men sat. The door opened and the passengers began to disembark.
"Yep, my prayers have been answered. Thank you, Lord!" said Buck. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go welcome our newest resident." He stepped into the street and greeted a young lady gathering her luggage with an exaggerated flourish.
"What are you guys going to do?" JD asked.
"I can't speak for Mr. Tanner, but I have been assigned to patrol in this infernal heat, so I think I'll go prepare myself for that useless enterprise." Ezra stood and pocketed his cards, and stepped into the street. Vin watched him for a minute, then stood and followed him to the livery. He found Ezra readying his horse.
"Hey, Ezra, you got extra water? It's real hot today."
"Is it, Mr. Tanner? I hadn't noticed."
"You might wanna think about changin' that jacket too."
Ezra brushed an invisible piece of lint from the sleeve of his purple coat. "While I do appreciate your concern, I am at a loss to explain this sudden interest in my welfare."
"Just don't want ya passin' out from heat stroke," Vin said.
Ezra tightened the cinches on his saddle. "If you are really that concerned, you are welcome to take this patrol for me."
Vin shook his head. "No thanks, it's too damn hot," he said, grinning.
Ezra led his chestnut out of the livery and prepared to saddle up.
"Um, Ezra, one more thing..." Vin said.
"I have plenty of water, and I intend to watch for ruffians from the sanctity of the shade, Mr. Tanner," Ezra said, mounting his horse.
"No, I was just wonderin' which way you're headed?"
Ezra pointed south.
Vin looked in that direction, leaning against the doorway. "So you'll be near Chris's place?" he asked.
"In the general vicinity, " Ezra replied. "Why?"
"Maybe you could stop by there and give him this." Vin reached into his coat and pulled out a wrapped package. He tossed it to Ezra, who caught it deftly.
"May I inquire as to its contents?" he asked.
"Don't know. Stuff from the judge, I guess," Vin answered, looking back out toward the road. "Mary asked me to give it to Chris."
Ezra looked at him, his curiosity piqued. "Then why don't you deliver it?"
"Because you're headed that way."
"You could have done it earlier," Ezra said.
"Didn't want to go out in this heat," Vin replied.
"Ah, I see," Ezra said, and placed the packet inside his jacket.
Vin looked at him sharply. "You see what?"
"Nothing. It's just that you and our fearless leader have both seemed out of sorts lately, and not much in each other's company. I'm sure it's none of my business, but..."
"Damn straight it ain't none of your business," Vin said. "And there ain't no business, because nothin' happened 'tween me and Chris. It's hot, and that makes folks ornery."
Ezra stared at him.
"What?" Vin asked.
"I don't think I've ever heard you employ that many words at one time."
"Shut up, Ezra."
Ezra nodded and rode off in the direction of Chris's shack. Vin watched him disappear around a bend, then shook his head slightly as he headed back to the saloon.
Ezra slowed as he approached Chris's shack. Chris sat on the porch, his legs resting on the railing. He was barefoot, and his shirt was unbuttoned and hung open. He didn't move as Ezra approached, which struck him as odd, and a bit disconcerting.
"Mr. Larabee?" he called out. Chris still didn't move. Ezra hesitated. He didn't want to startle him, and end up looking down the barrel of Chris's gun. But Chris could also be injured and in need of assistance. Ezra nudged his horse forward, hoping Larabee wasn't armed.
He tied up his horse and climbed the steps to the porch, then saw the cause of Chris's slumber. An empty bottle of whiskey rested beneath his chair. Ezra sighed and called out again. "Mr. Larabee?" Chris still didn't move. Ezra tried a different tactic. "Wake up, you drunken ill-tempered barbaric cowboy." Again, Chris didn't move. Finally, Ezra shoved his feet from the railing. Chris's chair fell over backwards, and Chris landed on the floor with a thud.
"Goddamn," Chris said, trying to sit up. He fell back against the wall with a thud.
"Welcome to the world of the living, Mr. Larabee," Ezra said, leaning against the railing and crossing his arms.
Chris peered up at him through the strands of his hair. "How'd you get here?" he asked.
"Am I pointing out the obvious if I replied a horse?"
Chris closed his eyes, and then opened them again. "I guess that means you're real." He leaned his head back against the wall. "I was having a really nice dream. And then you showed up." He tried to glare, but it made his head ache. "What do you want?"
"Far be it for me to interrupt your whiskey-induced fantasies. I am here at the request of Mr. Tanner..."
"Vin sent you? Why?"
Ezra reached into his jacket and pulled out the packet of papers. "Mary asked him to deliver these. But since he obviously had foresight into your condition that I was not privy to, I get to play messenger." A shadow crossed Chris's face, but was gone in an instant. He started to stand. Ezra tossed the packet on the table.
"Well sir, I will leave you to your miseries. I have an empty desert to patrol." He turned to leave.
"Why don't you stay for supper? Nobody should be out in this heat anyway," Chris said.
The surprise registered in Ezra's eyes. He didn't know how good a cook Chris was, but his curiosity was strong enough to overcome any doubt. "Thank you, Mr. Larabee. I believe I'll take you up on that."
Chris wondered again what the hell he was thinking asking Ezra to stay for supper. All he had was stew that he'd been reheating for the past three days, and he wasn't in the mood to hear Ezra complain about it. So he was surprised when Ezra didn't fuss, merely picked up his fork and ate the food. He even complimented him on its flavor.
"Although I would like something to wash it down," Ezra said. Chris reached behind him and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. It was his last one, which meant he'd have to be returning to town soon. He poured some for Ezra, and set the bottle in front of him.
"It appears you are not through imbibing yet today," Ezra said, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
"Nope."
"Might I ask what has caused you to stay perpetually intoxicated?"
"You may not," Chris said. He picked up the bottle, but sat it back down without drinking any.
"Would this have anything to do with Mr. Tanner's reluctance to be in your company?"
Chris looked at him sharply. "No."
"I see."
"What do you see?" Chris asked.
"I had a very similar conversation with Mr. Tanner before I came out here. It seems that although you are both acting very unsociable and to all appearances are avoiding each other, both of you deny that is the case."
"Then maybe you should mind your own business." Chris said.
Ezra finished his glass of whiskey and set down the glass in front of Chris. "And maybe you should share."
A short time later, the bottle half empty, Ezra still sat in the chair, watching Chris clean the dishes and light the lanterns in the small shack. Then he sat back down and grabbed the bottle, taking a long swig. Ezra leaned back in his chair and rested his feet on the table.
"Make yourself at home," Chris said.
Ezra smiled, his gold tooth catching the lantern light. "Hardly a place I'd call home. However, since darkness has descended, it appears I will be staying here tonight."
"I don't recall inviting you."
"You've had a lot to drink. I doubt you recall my arrival either."
Chris grinned. "No, actually."
They drank in silence for a few minutes. "How do you stand all this deafening quiet?" Ezra finally asked.
"Beats the noise of the town."
"You and Mr. Tanner. You both seem to prefer your own company to that of others. One would think you'd get lonely."
Chris shrugged. "Can't speak for Vin. But I reckon when I get lonely, I find somebody and get unlonely."
"Although I wasn't speaking of physical companionship, you did bring it up. I don't recall seeing you partake in any of the local courtesans lately, and I'll wager my paltry month's earnings you aren't finding companionship with Mrs. Travis."
Chris laughed at that. "No, I ain't got nowhere with Mrs. Travis. And I haven't felt much like paying for it either." Chris paused and looked at Ezra. "What about you? I've never seen you with a working girl, or any girl really, except that Chinese one."
"Ah yes, Li Pong. I received a letter from her just last week. She's doing well in San Francisco."
"That's not what I was asking."
"Well, Mr. Larabee, since we are being personal, I don't find satisfaction with the offerings this town has. My tastes are a little too refined to be filled by a working girl." He took a long swallow of his drink. "Or a cowboy," he added quietly.
"What the hell does that mean?" Chris asked, swiping the bottle out of Ezra's reach.
"I simply inferred that perhaps the root of your problem with Mr. Tanner is that you two decided to 'get unlonely' together, to coin a phrase. And now one or both of you regrets it."
"Ezra, you are too smart for your own good."
"Thank you."
"And it's none of your business."
"So I've been told. Repeatedly," Ezra said, reaching for the bottle back. "However, I may be of assistance."
Chris grinned. "I think my tastes are a little too unrefined to be filled by someone so delicate."
Ezra paused with his drink halfway to his mouth. "Mr. Larabee, did you just call me delicate?"
Chris nodded.
"I assure you I am quite sturdy enough to handle whatever it is you can dish out."
"Wanna bet?" Chris said, still grinning.
Ezra finally took his drink. He looked Chris in the eye. "Just to clarify, since if I am mistaken I will undoubtedly be shot, we are talking about you and me..."
"Getting unlonely," Chris finished.
"Very well," Ezra said. "However, since I suspect your method involves me bending over and you rutting like an animal, perhaps we could use my method, which would be infinitely more enjoyable for both of us."
"Enjoyable, huh. What do I have to do?"
"As I suspect I have more experience in this area, simply allow me to guide the proceedings."
Chris's grin returned. "You mean you're going to fuck me."
"If you wish to employ the vernacular."
The grin widened. "You wanna do it, you have to say it."
"Say what?"
"Employ the vernacular, Ezra."
Ezra sighed. "Oh, all right. Since it has been a while for me too, yes, I'm going to fuck you."
Chris shook his head. "That's not what I said. If you want to do it, you have to say it."
Green eyes met green eyes over the low light of lanterns. In the slight haze of intoxication, the men sized each other up, both already feeling the slight stirrings in their groins that signaled the potential of relief. "You're a malicious drunk," Ezra said finally. "But yes, I want to fuck you."
Both men stood slowly. Ezra began unbuckling his gunbelt. Chris watched him, finishing off the last of the whiskey.
"Ezra," he said.
"Yes, Mr. Larabee?" Ezra replied, placing his belt on the table.
"I am going to enjoy this, right?"
"Undoubtedly."
"I better."
"Threatening me is hardly likely to better my performance."
Chris shrugged, and began unbuttoning his shirt. Ezra stepped forward and stopped him. "Allow me," he said.
Chris brushed his hand away. "Hell, I ain't a girl," he said.
"One of the biggest travesties of our current society is that men are not allowed to enjoy the luxury of simple pleasures, of taking things slow."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"It means shut up and be patient," Ezra said, his gold tooth showing as he grinned.
Ezra slowly unbuttoned Chris's black shirt. They both watched his fingers as he deftly slid the buttons through the holes. As each button was undone, Ezra allowed his fingers to gently brush the small amount of skin that was revealed. Ezra tugged the shirt from where it was tucked into Chris's black jeans, and pushed the shirt from his shoulders. Chris remained standing rigid, like a statue.
"Mr. Larabee, if you will relax slightly, we can at least get your shirt off." Chris took a deep breath, and slumped his shoulders. The shirt fell to the ground. Ezra placed his palm against the skin of Chris's chest then traced the contours with his fingers. Truth be told, he'd never thought of Chris in this manner before; he figured that Chris's animosity towards him together with his formerly married status and overall surly personality definitely removed Ezra from his thoughts. But now, as he traced the smooth circles of the man's nipple, eliciting a slight shiver, he realized that Chris Larabee was indeed a fine specimen. His torso was lean and his arms strong. He stood erect, still fighting what was happening although wanting it too. Ezra looked up into his face, noticing the delicate trace of his lips, the strong curve of his chin and cheekbones, the piercing smoky green of his eyes. Ezra had no real preference of men or women; his biggest criterion was beauty, both of appearance and of spirit. He liked somebody he could match wits with, as well as somebody pleasant to look at, and Chris fulfilled both criteria. He looked again at those lips, normally set in a solid line but now slightly parted and full.
"You sure as hell aren't going to kiss me," Chris said, interrupting Ezra's musings.
"Very well, although I dare say it would be pleasant. How about I do this instead?" Before Chris could react, Ezra lowered his head and licked the nipple he had been stroking. Then he pulled back and looked back into Chris's eyes. "Shall I continue?" he asked.
Chris hesitated. Part of him couldn't believe he was doing this, with Ezra of all people. The other part was hard as a rock. He'd never felt a sensation like when Ezra was touching his chest, and when he'd licked him, it was like a lightning bolt. Nobody, not the working girls, not even Sarah, had ever done that to him, and he was lonely enough, curious enough, and drunk enough to want more. And looking down into Ezra's eyes, he saw the darkening of desire as well as the promise of enjoyment. So his decision was made. "Yeah, Ezra, continue. But stop calling me Mr. Larabee."
"As you wish," Ezra said, and bent his head to continue running his tongue over Chris's chest. Chris finally allowed himself to relax, and he clutched Ezra's head as Ezra took one nipple in his teeth, pulling slightly before letting go. Ezra's hands were busy as well, running inside the waistband of Chris's pants, slowly unbuttoning the buttons and pushing the pants open. Chris's cock sprang out, and Ezra smiled devilishly. He bent further and quickly licked the head, then pushed Chris down into the chair. Ezra began removing his own clothes, and Chris watched. He removed his coat, then his shirt. Chris was surprised at the muscle tone of Ezra's chest and arms.
"Men aren't supposed to have chests smooth like that, Ezra," Chris said. "I've seen saloon girls with more hair on their chests."
Ezra didn't pause as he removed his boots until he stood clad only in his pants. "Hardly something to brag about," he responded. "Now, do you have any requests?"
"Requests?" Chris said.
"Anything you'd like to try. Perhaps something you've heard of that you thought might be enjoyable."
"I like being sucked on," Chris said.
"Don't we all," Ezra replied. He walked to stand in front of Chris, then slowly knelt in front of him. He slid Chris's pants further down his hips, then pulled them off and tossed them behind him. He placed his hands on Chris's thighs, again tracing slow circles on the skin. Chris watched as Ezra again lowered his head, quickly licking at the head of his cock, then running his tongue up and down its length. He couldn't recall ever feeling anything so good. Ezra could teach the working girls a thing or two. Ezra slowly took the head in his mouth, swirling his tongue around, and Chris tried to move his hips up and down, but Ezra raised his head and moved his hands to Chris's hips, holding them in place.
"Patience," he repeated. "Allow yourself to savor the sensations, and try not to gag me in the process." Ezra then took Chris's heavy balls into his mouth, tugging gently. He hummed slightly, and Chris nearly jumped out of the chair. Ezra raised his head, smiling. "Are you enjoying yourself?" Ezra asked. Chris nodded. Ezra stood, loosening his pants so his own hard cock was visible. "Then perhaps you'd be willing to reciprocate?"
"You want me to suck on you?"
"Not if you don't want to. Perhaps you could at least touch me."
Chris reached out his hand and drew Ezra's cock fully out of his pants. It was thick, and got harder as he touched it. He wrapped his hand around its length, and moved his hand slightly back and forth. He had never touched another man like that before. When he'd been with men, it had been out on the trail, and he'd done the deed and moved on, letting them take care of themselves. Even with Vin it had been that way.
When his thoughts turned to Vin, he felt the kick in his stomach again, the one that had been with him constantly since that night on the trail, the one that only went away when he'd enough to drink to knock him unconscious. He thought for sure he'd completely ruined things with Vin just because they'd both wanted some relief. Now, as he looked up at Ezra, with his eyes closed in pleasure and rocking back and forth to the rhythm of Chris's hand on his cock, a flicker of hope coursed through him that maybe there was a way to salvage things with Vin after all. He wondered what Vin would look like as his cock was stroked, if his skin would be as smooth as Ezra's was, if he would enjoy his pleasure in silence like Ezra or demand and beg for more. Most of all, he wondered if Vin would ever let him get close enough again to find out.
Ezra's voice interrupted his thoughts. "I think I am quite ready, Chris.
Are you?"
Chris nodded and stood. "Where do you want me?"
Ezra surveyed the small room. "Well, our choices are limited, but since this is your first time, I think it would be the least uncomfortable if you would rest on the table."
Chris nodded and placed his hands on the table. His grip on the table's edges was so hard his knuckles were white.
He felt one of Ezra's hands rest on his own. "I am going to make this enjoyable, Chris. I promise. Please try to relax." Chris loosened his grip and took a deep breath.
Ezra looked around the room. He hadn't come out here expecting to have relations with anybody, so he hadn't brought anything to lubricate with. He saw a small can of oil on a shelf and took it down. He glanced at Chris's back. The muscles in his shoulders were tensed, roping down to his slim waist, firm buttocks, and surprisingly long legs. The man didn't have an ounce of fat on him, and when he was tensed, like now, the strength of his slim but firm body emanated from him in a wave of heat. An odd feeling of power and tenderness washed over Ezra; he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so excited about a sexual encounter. Perhaps because this was a friend, and somebody he respected, who trusted him with the most intimate of undertakings. Or perhaps because Chris Larabee was a strong, powerful and beautiful man, and Ezra appreciated beauty in all its forms.
He scooped out a bit of the oil and rubbed it on his fingers. He started first by placing his hands on Chris's shoulders. Chris tensed at the touch, but then allowed himself to enjoy the ministrations of Ezra's talented fingers as he worked out the knots that had become almost a permanent part of his anatomy. Chris couldn't help but groan as Ezra rubbed out a knot right at the top of his shoulder blade. The sound went straight to both of their groins. Ezra moved a bit closer, so his erection brushed Chris's back, and Chris started to grab his own cock, but Ezra halted his hand. Ezra started to admonish him, but Chris said, "I know, I know, patience. Fuck patience, this is almost painful."
Ezra chuckled. "I concur. I'll speed things along." He moved his hands down Chris's back, tracing the bumps of his spine, before grabbing both of Chris's cheeks with both hands and squeezing.
Chris grinned. "Got yer hands full, Ezra?" he asked, then jumped as he felt what could only be Ezra's teeth on his ass. "Did you just bite me?"
"Mmmhmmm," Ezra said, tracing a finger down the crack of Chris's ass. He touched the puckered hole gently, but Chris still tensed. Cupping Chris's balls in one hand, he gently rubbed the hole with the other, softly murmuring, "Relax, Chris, relax. Just let yourself enjoy it." The slow ministrations along with the soothing lilt of Ezra's voice did let Chris relax. Ezra got more oil on his fingers and slowly stuck one in the hole, slightly moving it in a circle. Chris again gripped the edge of the table, his erection all but gone. "Ezra," he said though clinched teeth.
"You're fighting it, Chris. If you don't want this, I'll stop and we can switch places."
Chris thought back again to his time with Vin, and how it had nearly cost him Vin's friendship. "No," he said. "I do want this." He took a deep breath, and tried to relax, focusing on the slow languid circle Ezra was making inside him with his finger. As he relaxed, Ezra pushed the finger in a little more, reaching around Chris's body to stroke his cock in the same slow rhythm. He felt life spring into it, and he saw Chris close his eyes. He was glad Chris hadn't told him to stop. He wanted this so much it hurt. He wanted to be inside Chris's powerful body more than anything he could remember, but he didn't want to hurt him and ruin it in the process. He knew just the thing that would relax the wary gunslinger, and he eased his finger inside him further, slowly circling until he felt the swelling of his prostate. Chris groaned as Ezra nudged it, adding a second finger to widen the passage.
Chris crossed his arms on the table and rested his head on them, his eyes closed as the unfamiliar sensations of being filled and Ezra's slow delicate stroking of his cock washed over him. He had no idea it could be like this. It was different than being with a woman, that much was obvious. He felt for the first time in a long time, maybe for the first time ever, that he could let go and not be the one in control. Part of that worried him, but a bigger part was enjoying Ezra's hands too damn much to care.
When he felt Chris was as prepared as he was going to be, Ezra removed his hands and reached for the oil again. Chris turned his head to watch as Ezra slathered the oil over his thick cock.
"I don't think that thing is gonna fit," Chris said, with a grin.
"I assure you, it will. It may burn at first, but if you don't fight it, the discomfort will cease."
"Get going then," Chris said, again resting his head on his arms.
"Still impatient," Ezra replied. "Then I shall have to be patient for the both of us." Mostly because the urge to ram himself in that tight channel was quickly becoming overwhelming, Ezra thought. Instead, he placed the head of his cock at Chris's hole and eased himself in as gently as he could, cringing at the first breach and Chris's quick intake of breath, but then moaning as Chris's muscles pulled him inside. He halted, allowing Chris's body to get used to his girth, again reaching forward to grab Chris's cock, this time grasping it a bit tighter, rubbing his thumb around the small amount of pre-cum on the head as a distraction as he eased himself further in.
When he was all the way in, he rested his head on the curve of Chris's back, the force of his self-control making beads of sweat run down his forehead and chest.
"Chris?" he asked.
"Go, Ezra, go," he heard Chris say, and he complied, establishing a slow rhythm as he moved in and out that was repeated by his hand on Chris's cock. He knew exactly when Chris really started to enjoy it, because he lifted his head from the table and began to push backwards, embedding himself more on Ezra, trying to control the rhythm. Ezra deferred to the rhythm Chris set and they began moving as one, back and forth, faster and faster, the only sounds heavy breathing and soft grunts, and the slap of skin as Ezra's body met with Chris's. Ezra was quickly losing any semblance of self-control he had. He wanted Chris to come first, to feel the tightening of those internal muscles around his cock, but his body wasn't listening as Chris kept pushing back onto him, drawing him in further.
"Are you close?" he panted into Chris's back, his hips grinding against Chris's ass.
"Yes, yes, harder, all the way, harder," Chris responded.
Ezra's body took over thought and he slammed into Chris as hard as he could, pumping Chris's cock from behind. Chris added his hand to Ezra's, pushing and pulling. Ezra was hitting that spot inside him he didn't even know he had, and he wanted it harder and faster. It was just so good, every pounding another level of pleasure, until it culminated in an orgasm that rocked his hips against the table, cum shooting out to coat his hand and Ezra's and even spurt onto his chest.
But it wasn't over. His internal muscles were clenching uncontrollably, and behind him he heard Ezra grunting as he experienced his own orgasm, his seed shooting inside Chris in spasms.
Both, though spent, continued the rocking motion, Ezra's arms around Chris's waist, Chris's head back on his arms. The rocking slowed until they both lay still, each trying to catch his breath and slow his out of control heartbeat.
Ezra regained the ability to speak first. "Mr. Larabee, I dare say that was incredible."
He felt rather than saw Chris grin. "Sure as hell was." Chris raised himself up, looking back at Ezra under his arm. "You plannin' on gettin' out of me any time soon?"
Ezra eased out slightly. "I wanted to allow time for your body to adjust." He continued to pull out slowly until he was all the way out. He then grabbed a cloth and wiped himself down, then turned his attention to Chris. His ass was red and there was a slight bruise forming on his hip. "I regret to say I have injured you," he said, pointing to the bruise.
Chris looked at it and shrugged. He turned around and leaned against the table. "I've had worse," he said. Ezra walked to where he had placed his clothes and began to get dressed. Chris watched him thoughtfully for a moment.
"Ezra," he said. "About what we did tonight..."
Ezra paused in the middle of buttoning his pants, hiding his trepidation. "Yes, Mr. Larabee?"
Chris smiled wickedly. "I want you to teach me how to do it."
Ezra smiled in return. "Gladly."
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