Vin had hedged, hemmed and hawed for most of the drive up to the
ranch, and finally Chris just said, "Out with it, Vin. What have you
got to say?"
"You and Buck together?" Vin said then, point blank.
The question took Chris aback. Not because it didn't have merit, and
not even because it wasn't true, but because the person asking it was
Vin Tanner, one of the most private men Chris knew. The flipside of
Buck's coin, so to speak, Vin tended toward silence and discretion,
never prying into other people's affairs, where Buck thrived on noise
and indiscretion, and loved sticking his nose into everybody else's
business.
Chris gripped the Ram's steering wheel suddenly, his knuckles going
white, worried for a second that Vin might be looking for something
from Buck that Buck couldn't give.
"That's a hard question," he said, careful.
Vin turned his head and stared, those cerulean blue eyes wide open and
waiting.
Chris weighed Buck's own occasional desire for privacy against Buck's
and his friendship with Vin, and threw caution to the wind. "You know
his mom was a hooker. Well, growing up, he never saw any romantic
relationship last. Not a single one that wasn't on television. Most of
the guys who paid for his mother were married men, so he didn't have
any faith in that. The gay scene, well, I guess you know a long-term
relationship in those terms might be no more than a night. Honestly,
I don't think Buck knows how to settle down with one person. It's not
his way."
"So you and him are together?" Vin repeated.
Chris hit the blinker and turned onto the gravel road that led to his
house. "We're as together as Buck knows how to be. We're as together
as he can be."
Vin was silent, chewing on that until Chris pulled the truck under the
carport and killed the engine.
"What does that mean, Chris?" he asked, then ducked out the door fast,
before Chris could answer.
It took some thinking, to figure this out, to wonder why Vin was
asking, what he thought he wanted out of it... "What do you think it
means?"
Vin frowned, and shouldered in past him, heading for the kitchen, and
the refrigerator, and a beer. "If don't want to tell me, fine, I
respect that. Maybe it's not my business--"
"And maybe it is," Chris said. "What do you think it means?"
He watched Vin take a slow swallow, long neck arched back, Adam's
apple working, before Vin set the bottle on the counter and turned to
face him. He looked scared, and brave, and anticipation tightened
Chris' belly.
"I think it means there ain't no room for you and me. No private room.
Intimate room."
It only took three steps for Chris to cross the floor and pull Vin
into a hug that wasn't sensual, not yet, and hold him tight. After a
minute, too long for manly embraces, Chris eased his clutch and
stepped back a pace. "I'll tell you something else about him, if you
promise not to tell him I said it."
Vin nodded. "Sure."
"Buck's got about the biggest heart of anybody I've ever seen. He
loves easily, and it's damned hard to make him stop loving once he
decides you're worth it. There's always room."
"Yeah?" Vin said, agreeing and confused. Like it was obvious.
"I'm saying, Vin, that if you and I got together, he'd probably be
happy for us both... for all of us. He'd want a piece of the action,
mind," Chris joked, but really it wasn't a joke, so he firmed his
mouth and repeated the statement. "He wouldn't let himself be shut
out. Not ever. <<I>> wouldn't let him be shut out. That's the only
thing that hurts him, and I've done it a time or two, so I know.
But... you, me... he likes you, and he'd be happy."
"Bullshit." Vin looked disgusted, and Chris couldn't blame him. There
weren't many men like Buck. So he went to the telephone on the wall,
called Buck on his cell and said, "Hey, can you come up tonight?"
"Yeah, sure," Buck said. "Any particular reason?"
"Vin."
Buck chuckled, low. "I told you he was interested."
"And you're the master in this field, I know," Chris said, putting as
much sarcasm into his voice as he could muster. "I should listen."
"Yep. Do you want him?"
Chris paused, bit his lip. Even after twenty years of this kind of
trust from Buck, it was hard for him. "Yeah," he admitted. "Yeah."
"Then I'll be there in thirty or forty minutes, okay? You cooking dinner?"
"I can."
"Do. Then we'll talk, and I'll skedaddle."
Chris hung up the phone and turned back to his friend, wondering how
best to contextualize this, this thing he and Buck had started in
childhood, had kept through the hardest of times, had given up only
briefly, when Sarah had come along, and that was because Buck didn't
think it would be fair, any other way.
"You want to help me cook dinner?" Chris asked, trying to make things
normal.
"He coming up?"
"Yep."
"And he knows why?"
"Yep."
"And he's not gonna try to kick my ass?"
Kicking Vin's ass was the last thing Buck would think to do to it. "Nope."
"Huh," Vin finally muttered. Then, "What are we cooking?"
They thawed chicken breasts and started soup, then Chris made biscuits.
Gravel crunched on the drive. Buck's old truck engine sputtered and
then stopped. The door banged open like Buck owned the place--probably
the very thing that had made Vin wary. He'd have to tell Vin that Buck
did own the place, a piece of it anyway. Maybe go so far as to tell
Vin why.
"Smells good," Buck started. "Any beer?"
Chris got one and handed it across, and because of the topic, the
nature of the conversation, he stepped a little closer and tilted his
head up for a kiss. Buck refused him, frowning and stepping away.
"Hey, Vin," Buck said instead, reaching uncharacteristically to shake
Vin's hand.
Vin accepted, and Chris wondered if Vin's palms were sweaty. From the
barely suppressed grin on Buck's face, Chris guessed yes. "Hey, Buck."
"So you finally copped to it, huh?"
"Copped to what?"
"You're in love with Chris?"
"Shit, Buck!" Chris snapped, as uncomfortable as Vin, now. "He didn't
say anything about love or--"
"Yeah," Vin said quietly, and Chris stopped short.
Vin Tanner was an incredibly brave man; it was one of many things
Chris admired about him.
"He has that effect on people, don't he? Ornery cuss that he is, I've
never figured out why." Buck chuckled a lttle. "And you saw something
between us, and didn't want to get in the way," he continued.
"Uh, yeah. Didn't know what it was, though. Still don't," he added
pointedly.
Buck went to the cabinets that held the bowls, brought down three and
scooped up soup. Chris, falling back on routine, grabbed up spoons and
knives, butter, and the biscuit pan.
"You make those?" Buck asked, sniffing at the biscuits as they went by.
"You know I did," Chris said, irritable. Buck loved homemade biscuits,
and they were one of several dishes Chris liked to make for him,
because Buck hadn't had many home cooked meals when he was young, and
he cherished them. Every single one.
"Good."
At the table, silence reigned for all of three minutes before Buck
asked, "So how do you feel about him, Chris? You love him?"
Chris looked furtively between the pair. What he felt for each was so
different, and so fundamentally the same. Buck gave him a
freedom--hell, forced him toward a freedom he would never have found
on his own. Vin gave him room to be whoever he was, whatever he was,
whatever product of upbringing and life experience.
"I don't know," he said. Buck's eyes demanded more honesty and he
ducked his head, ashamed. "Maybe."
Buck took a big bite of a heavily buttered biscuit. "Guess you'd
better find out, then. Guess you two ought to see if there's something
worth having between you."
At that point Vin threw down his spoon, making soup splash onto the
tabletop. "How the hell can you be so casual about this?" he snapped,
just barely holding his temper. "I'm telling you I want to take away
your lover, and I don't know what's going on. One of you want to clue
me in on it? Or should I just take my ass out of here and hitch home?"
Chris smiled as Buck did, and when Buck looked his way and the smile
softened further, Chris couldn't help but respond. He reached across
the table and touched Buck's hand, holding tightly when Buck turned to
grasp back.
"As for cluing you in," Buck went on, casually like he was discussing
football scores, "it's pretty easy. Chris and I have been together
since we were teenagers, what was it Chris? 1980? Earlier than that, I
guess. I don't see that changing."
"But you were married," Vin stuttered to Chris, and Chris almost felt
bad for Vin. It wasn't like he'd been comfortable with this thing at
first. It had taken learning who Buck was, how he was, and that Buck
wasn't going anywhere.
"Open relationship," Chris said. "Always has been. Yeah, before you
ask, even when I fell in love with Sarah." He squeezed Buck's hand in
old apology. "I was too selfish to share her. So he and I slowed down
then, but we didn't stop. Never have."
Vin still looked befuddled. "So you're saying--what, that Buck's in on
this, regardless of what turns out between you and me?"
"Yeah," Buck replied, his voice so very kind. "As far as I'm concerned
you can be right beside Chris, if that's where you want to be," he
explained. "You just have to decide if you can cope with me being
right beside him, too. That's all."
"So--what is this, a threesome or something?" Vin ventured, and Chris
could hear the uncertainty in his voice. Chris decided to field that
one, because between them, he was the only one who understood just how
different Buck really was from most people.
"Not necessarily," he assured. "Maybe. It could turn out that way, if
you decided to try it. But it doesn't have to be. All that's important
is that you know Buck's a piece of my life, and always will be."
"Funny conversation to be having before we've ever even had sex," Vin
said neutrally.
"Better now, than later," Chris answered calmly. "I care enough to
make sure you know that you can't expect fidelity from me."
Vin leaned back in his chair and picked up his spoon again. "I always
figured you for the monogamous type, Larabee."
Chris let go Buck's hand and went back to eating, himself. "I would
have been, except for him. He doesn't really do the fidelity thing,
and I'm no good at not having what I want."
"So we compromised," Buck added, as if that explained it all.
They finished the meal in silence, and Buck helped by cleaning up
bowls and loading the dishwasher. "Guess I'd better clear out," he
said eventually.
"Just like that?" Vin asked, disbelieving.
Chris could feel for Vin, he really could; this thing he and Buck had
learned over decades challenged many of his own traditional beliefs
about how things ought to be.
"Yeah," Buck said, "Just like that."
"If you still want to stay," Chris offered to Vin. He glanced toward
Buck and smiled, then back at Vin. "And I'd like you to."
Vin still sounded irritable, uncertain. "You're just gonna leave,
knowing what we're gonna get up to."
"Yep," Buck said placidly. "Only reason I came out is because you and
I are friends too, so it only seemed fair for you to hear the score
from both of us." Buck walked over to Chris and slung an arm around
his shoulder. "And it seems fair to let you know what you're in for,
if you decide you love him enough."
Vin watched then, as Buck turned Chris gently and they shared a kiss:
fragile, intense, deeply gentle. It was the first time he'd seen any
such thing between them, and it was annoying, arousing. Beautiful.
"You have a good night," Buck said quietly to Chris. Then Buck looked
Vin's way.
"You already know he's a good man," Buck said soberly. "You two be
good to each other."
And with that, he walked out the door.
Chris listened to the truck engine turn over three times before it
caught, smiling that Buck refused to get rid of his old girl. As
gravel turned and the engine noise began to fade, Vin shook his head
in disbelief.
"He's really serious," Vin muttered. "He's just gonna leave us here to
get to... whatever."
"Yeah." Chris had hoped, as he and Vin got to know to each other, that
this day would come, but it wasn't his place to reach out. He was the
boss, he had Buck at his side, he had a load of old baggage that would
have made him trying to start something unfair. But now that it was
upon them, he was glad.
"I don't get it."
Chris shook his head and smiled. "Don't try to get Buck, Vin. He's one
of a kind."
"So, and I'm just speculating here," Vin said warily, "what would
happen if we decided we were the ones for each other? If we wanted to
get exclusive?"
Chris frowned, thinking about it. Probably, Buck would sigh, and make
sure the two of them had one spectacular night together to remember it
by, and wish them well. "Vin," he tried, "I didn't know I could love
someone like I loved Sarah. Didn't know I'd risk that love for the
truth, of who I was, who Buck was, what we were to each other. I did
both."
"So what are you saying?"
"That's not going to happen," he said gently. "You and I. Exclusive.
He means too much. Gives me too much room, lets me mouth off too much.
He's a part of me, Vin, and I need him."
"Then what the hell am I doing here?" Vin asked, only half angry.
Chris smiled, looking at this man he had always found beautiful, not
just in form but in spirit, in quiet intensity, in honesty and
integrity and wry humor. "I hope you're here so we can start up
something, Vin. Something that'll never stop."
"Like you and Buck?" Vin challenged, more angry now.
Chris refused to rise to the bait. "That would be perfect, yeah."
"Can't say I'm comfortable with this," Vin said gruffly. "Can't say
I'll like walking into the office on Monday and looking at him,
wondering what he's thinking, what you've said..."
Chris snorted. "Don't think for an instant that he'll leave us alone
until Monday. Expect pizza, beer and the ball game on Sunday at the
latest. And expect him to spend the night up here."
Vin shook his head. "And you're really okay with this?"
"I'd have made a move myself," Chris flirted, "but I'm your boss. And
I've got Buck. I couldn't figure out what I had to offer, really."
"So, uh, what do we do now?"
Chris laughed out loud at that, because he knew what Vin wanted, knew
in his heart and his gut, and wanted very much to give it to him. But
Buck had thrown Vin--not so surprising. Not enough, Chris hoped, to
ruin this beginning between them.
He took the lead, stepping up close, taking Vin's hand in his. "Now?
Well, I'd like to kiss you like you wouldn't believe. Maybe take a
shower together and wash that mop of hair for you. I'd like to touch
you, and find out those places on you that make you go crazy. And if
you're up for it, later, I'd like you to fuck me."
Vin sucked in a sharp breath. "That's Buck talkin'," he said, sharply
aroused and only half joking.
Chris couldn't deny it. After years on years, Buck had taught him the
value of deciding what he wanted, and offering it without the usual
male hang-ups. "You'll be thanking Buck before this weekend is over,"
Chris said with a wink.
Before Vin could say more, Chris leaned forward and pressed their
mouths together. And it was what Chris had said it would be, no
half-anonymous encounter, but an eyes-open, intimate, hands caressing,
bodies seeking pleasure for the other experience that he couldn't have
even hoped for. They touched in the shower but more than that, they
looked, at each other's erections, at their bodies, into each other's
eyes. There was a joy to it that Vin hadn't expected somehow, what
with Chris' generally serious demeanor. Chris's kisses were like
honey, and if his responsiveness was anything to go by, Chris was
enjoying him just as much. Wanting him just as much.
And not much later, in the bedroom, equipped with the accoutrements of
modern day sex, Chris opened so sweetly for him that Vin was
astonished. His body gave ground to the careful pressure of Vin's
erection, his mouth dropped open and his eyelids half-closed in what
Vin could only read as joy. Slipping a hand between them, he gathered
up Chris' hefty, needy erection, and stroked it in time with his
thrusts, savored every gripping hand, every fingernail that bit into
his back as the moment of glory approached, crested, and then settled
between them.
Panting against his new lover's throat, Vin's brain felt empty of
anything save satisfaction. "Chris," he whispered.
"Vin," Chris whispered back.
The night was magical, easy, as if they'd been lovers for years, but
with that added thrill of the new partner: what would this touch do,
how would that act be welcomed? They got dressed early to feed and
work the horses, and Vin hadn't felt better in years, not even with
his sore ass connecting with a saddle. Peso was feeling his oats,
excited and lively, and Vin wondered if it wasn't just transference of
rider's mood to mount.
After they'd run Peso and Pony, and Don and Maverick, they put the
other three on the walker and went back inside for more lovemaking,
then breakfast. Simpler this time, touches and looks and kisses, and
only for the horses' sakes did Vin resist the urge to go to his knees
and stretch the encounter out--time for that later, after the horses
were off the walker and released into the field. Chris scrambled eggs
while Vin made toast, and while coffee brewed, Chris pushed the "play"
button on the blinking answering machine.
"Hey, Chris, it's me." Buck's voice made Vin stiffen unaccountably, as
if he'd just been caught committing a crime, but Chris went back to
the spatula and the frying pan with no apparent reaction. "Was gonna
come up and give Don a good ride today, then figured," a rich, dirty
laugh, "maybe you'd be busy. So take care of him for me, will you? And
I'll be up tomorrow for the game. You guys cook, I'll bring the beer."
It gave nothing away, really. Nothing even faintly incriminating. It
was that careful shielding of the relationship that Vin had sensed
from the start.
<<Beep.>>
No more messages.
When the toast popped up, Vin jerked in surprise, and Chris turned, a
look of concern on his face. "You okay?"
"Yeah," he answered slowly. Then, "How come you two hide it?"
Chris shrugged. "Habit, I guess. Too many years. Navy. Police Force.
Feds. Not like any of those crowds are gonna wave a rainbow flag."
Vin worked on that for a long moment, testing the truth of it. He'd
sensed something, but even watching closely, hadn't been able to pick
up a clear indication. "Are we gonna do the same?"
Chris looked startled, eyebrows climbing up under the shadow of his
loose, too-long bangs. "I haven't thought that far yet," he said
neutrally.
Vin hadn't either. There were plenty of reasons, good ones, for
keeping a relationship with your boss under wraps. Chris already got
called to the carpet enough just for the team's unique style and
methods...
"There's no hurry, Vin. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."
Vin nodded, thinking. Then, "Is this really gonna work?"
Chris paused for a long moment before replying, with a painfully
contented smile, "Buck says when there's enough love to go round,
anything and everything works. I'm feeling pretty good about it."
Huh. He tried to picture it, coming up to the ranch and finding Buck's
truck in the drive. That wouldn't be so unusual. But if he had the
freedom just to walk right in, it was likely he wouldn't find them in
such innocent positions as he had before. Buck in Chris' bed... would
they stop whatever they were doing? Or keep at it?
Vin Tanner wasn't really the experimental type, so he pictured himself
nodding to either or both of them and backing out of the room. Driving
home. Calling later. He pictured himself in Chris' bed, hearing Buck's
truck engine smoothly purring up the drive. Would they dress, or just
stay where they were? Would Chris get up and leave the room? Would he
come back? Alone?
What had Chris said? <<When there's enough love...>>
Vin found, to his very deep surprise, that even with all the
questions, he was feeling pretty good about it too.
The End
