ATF Universe
The revelers were merry. JD led a drunken choir in the fiftieth rendition of Jingle Bell Rock. Buck swayed in time to the off-key music while pressing himself against that cute bureau librarian, Peggy. Not an inch of airspace showed between them. Josiah and Nathan held the limbo stick and Ezra, who had stripped to Gucci slacks and nothing more, led the line of writhing dancers as they maneuvered their wassail-filled bodies under the stick. Garlands of gaudy red and gold tinsel drooped from their perches over filing cabinets and cubicle walls. Festivity reigned.Chris Larabee sat in the corner observing his staff, wondering where everyone's mind had gone.
"Mr. Larabeeeeee," Ezra sang as he conga'd past the taciturn ATF leader. "Come join the parteeeee..." And he was gone, bending backward as he thrust his bent knees and narrow hips beneath the taunting stick.
Chris was damn grumpy. He searched the room for one other being who shared his dismay at the false cheerfulness, the forced festivity. Alas, he was alone. With his thoughts. With his bleak, dismal, sad, sad thoughts. Memories. They were bittersweet. They threatened to choke him. He sighed and shook his head. I oughta get up and go, he thought. But he couldn't even muster the energy to leave all this insanity. His mind wandered around what the holiday used to be and what it was now. His mind's eye kept conjuring images of Adam and his delight on Christmas morning. Sarah's face blended in and out of these images, merging with Vin's.
Vin had stopped in his office just before leaving work earlier today. Before he'd known it, Chris had been drawn into a verbal sparring match. "Wanna stop by the shelter with me? Won't take long. Just gonna drop off the boxes of clothes and some toys the neighborhood collected for the kids."
Chris tried to brush him off with a nonchalant, "No thanks," but Vin wouldn't let it go.
"Might get you in the spirit, Chris. Come on."
"I said, 'no thanks,' Vin. That should be enough."
"Okay."
Chris looked up from the desktop where he'd forced his attention in order to avoid the openness of Vin's wide gaze. "What? I said I didn't want to go. You go. Have fun. Feel good. I'm happy for you. Now go." His voice was laced with anger.
Vin stayed in his chair.
"Vin." Chris's voice held an edge of warning.
"Can I see you tonight?" Vin's face was open and frank, his question posed without guile or ulterior motive.
Chris blushed and mentally cursed himself for the flush he felt infuse his cheeks. He was mourning, dammit. He was damned unhappy. He hated this stinking holiday season and he didn't want to be anyone's charity case tonight.
"No."
Vin took the verbal slap mutely. He flashed a small smile - just enough to mark the beginning of a dimple in his left cheek - and got up to leave.
"See ya, then." At the door he paused, but Chris's bent head silenced whatever parting shot he had planned.
"Chris! Chriiiiisssss," a female voice filtered through the pain of his last encounter with Vin. Fuck. Now what? He looked up and focused on a young woman from down the hall. Accounting, maybe. No, no, it was . . . where the hell did that woman work? No matter, she was in his face and so were her breasts and she was seriously invading his space.
"Hey, Mr. Lairamee. Less danz baby, huh?" The buxom woman tugged at Chris's arm.
He tried tactfully to extract himself from her grasp and, after a few minutes during which she became more insistent and her boozy breath assaulted his senses, he looked frantically through the throng of party animals for a savior.
And there was Vin.
He had just entered the room and stood surveying the merriment. Flailing at the woman's insistent hands that roamed freely over his shoulders and arms, Chris peered around her body, willing Vin to look his way. When Vin complied, Chris shot him his most earnest "help me" look. The young man sank into his typical leaning stance and just stared back at Chris, a look of amusement playing across his face.
"Excuse me!" the ATF leader snapped at the woman, pushing her forcibly out of his way. He sprang to his feet and shoved his way through the crowd of partying people to come face-to-face with Vin. Miss Persistent trailed after him.
"I can make you a happy man, Mr. Lairamee."
Chris ignored the drunken woman, staring instead at Vin, silently pleading for help.
"Hey, Vin," the woman drawled, turning her attention to the shaggy-haired sharpshooter.
"Evening, Charlaine. Enjoyin' the party?"
"I am now," she purred, pressing her considerable bust against Vin's bicep. "Wanna go find someplace else. We can bring Mr. Lairamee, too." Charlaine batted long eyelashes.
"Don't think so, Charlaine. But thanks."
"Aww, c'mon on, Vinnie," she whined, trailing Christmas-red fingertips up and down his arm.
Vin pushed her hand away and sighed. "I 'preciate the offer, Charlaine, but I'm busy tonight."
"Oh yeah?" she pouted. "With who?"
Vin arched an eyebrow at Charlaine. "With Mr. Lairamee."
Before Chris could respond, Vin grabbed him around the neck with his right hand, his left pressed against the small of Chris's back, and planted a big, long kiss on the bossman's mouth. When he let go of him, Chris looked almost as disbelieving as the looped Charlaine.
Seconds later raucous laughter erupted. "Ohmigawd! What a hoot!" JD whooped exuberantly. "Did you guys see that? Guys? Anyone? Hey! Did you guys see Vin and Chris kissing under that mistletoe? Oh, shit! You guys are so funny!"
Charlaine's fish-mouthed face turned from the two men in front of her to JD and back again. Chris and Vin glanced upward as one and spied the greenery suspended from an overhead light fixture. Chris growled something indecipherable under his breath and stalked out of the room.
Unable to produce a sound, Charlaine remained rooted to her spot, gaping at Vin. He winked and shrugged and turned on his heel to follow in Chris's wake, JD's amusement echoing behind him down the hallway.
+ + + + + + +
Vin entered the men's room and waited for Chris to finish throwing water on his face.
Larabee straightened up from the sink, grabbing a papertowel from the dispenser, and rubbed it vigorously across his wet face. He threw the towel into the wastecan and turned to face Vin.
"Thanks for nothing."
"You seemed to be managing on yer own."
"I was managing to get mauled."
"You shoulda just told her you weren't in the mood. Worked for me."
"You trying to piss me off more'n I already am?" Larabee clenched his jaw.
"Why are you pissed, Chris? I been trying to figure that out all day."
"Because . . . because I . . .you . . . because it's . . . they were all so . . . . Why are they so fucking happy?"
"Maybe cuz it's easier than bein' miserable."
"Well, maybe I like bein' miserable, Vin. Maybe I feel like I gotta right to be."
"You do, Chris. You do. And I'm real sorry for you. But there's lots to be not miserable about, too."
"What do you know about it?" Chris asked angrily. And, the instant he said it, he knew that Vin knew everything about misery and, yet, somehow, he wasn't wallowing in it.
Vin blinked a couple of times but never turned his gaze away from Chris's abashed face.
Larabee slumped back against the counter and spoke softly. "How do you do it, Vin? How do you stay so positive?"
Vin came to perch against the sink counter next to his friend. "There's no mystery to it, Chris. I got a roof over my head. I got a good job, good neighbors. I'm healthy." He lifted his shoulders and let them droop with a sigh. "I don't have much money, but I'm rich with real good friends, Chris. Real good. If you let 'em in, you don't have to carry the burden all by yourself."
"I don't know if I can," Chris whispered.
Vin lightly grasped his hand. "You already have, Cowboy. You just aren't paying attention."
+ + + + + + +
Chris Larabee woke when the night air played across his bare skin. Next to him, Vin stirred but continued breathing deeply. The older man sat up, propping his pillows behind his back and stared out the window at the moonlit landscape. He mulled over the feelings he'd shot through with staggering speed in the last few hours and wondered what it was he should be feeling now. Satiated, for sure. Spent. He glanced down at the handsome man who slept peacefully beside him and felt his gut clench with fulfillment at the memory of their urgent love-making. Another light breeze flitted through the room. With the remnants of that enounter still moist and sticky on his body, he shivered.
"You okay?" Vin mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
Chris placed a hand on his tousled head. "Shh. Yeah, I'm fine."
Vin laid his arm across his lover's hips. "What time is it?"
Larabee checked the alarm clock. "One-twenty. Go back to sleep."
Tightening his grasp on Chris, Vin buried his face against his hip and sighed contentedly. "Merry Christmas," he murmured before sinking back into slumber.
A realization settled over Chris then and he knew that what he felt was a lightened load. Gently he stroked the younger man's head. "Merry Christmas, Vin," he whispered.
The End
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