With A Touch - Part 4

"I swear, Nettie, I'm fine." Vin slouched in his chair and let his head fall back, staring up at the ceiling as he cradled the phone to his ear. "The fever broke yesterday afternoon an' I ain't run any since. I still get tired easy, but I'm all right. ... No, ma'am," he sighed, "I don't reckon I would need antibiotics if I was really all right ..."

Chris chuckled quietly and shook his head, then rose from the table and carried their plates to the sink. He scraped the remnants of their lunch into the disposal but didn't turn it on, not wanting to miss a word of Vin's conversation with Nettie. JD had taken Casey out last night and had let it slip that Vin was sick. Naturally, the girl had told her aunt and, naturally, the old woman had called to check up on "her boy." She'd spoken to Chris first, pumping him for every detail of Vin's illness, and was now obviously making her own very shrewd assessment of Tanner's condition from the answers he was, and sometimes wasn't, giving to her questions.

JD was in a world of trouble.

"Yes, ma'am, I promise I'm takin' 'em, twice a day, jist like the doc said. Been told I ain't got a choice." Vin turned his head and shot a withering glare at Larabee. "Chris said he's been givin' medicine ta horses fer years now, said he's learned a few tricks that oughtta work on me, too."

Chris turned and bestowed a feral grin on his lover.

Vin narrowed his eyes and scowled. "No, ma'am, I ain't givin' him any trouble," he said even as he flipped Larabee the finger. "I'm doin' ever'thing I'm s'posed to. ... I ain't over-doin', I promise. Fact is, Chris ain't hardly lettin' me do anything at all. Heaviest thing I've lifted this whole weekend is the TV remote. ... I know I'm sick, Nettie," he sighed. "But it jist grates on me is all. I don't like layin' around bein' lazy while he does all the work." He winced deeply and ran a hand through his hair. "I know there's a difference 'tween bein' sick an' bein' lazy ... I know Chris don't mind ... No, ma'am, I don't expect he would be too happy if I keeled over in the livin' room. ... I reckon it would jist make more work fer him ..."

Chris chuckled and shook his head, amused as always by Nettie's effect on Vin. The young man was as tough as rawhide, as dangerous as a coiled rattler and notoriously, infuriatingly independent. He couldn't be pushed and wouldn't be pulled, was absolutely intractable when he dug in his heels and utterly impervious to intimidation. With a will of pure iron and, or so most everyone who knew him swore, a head of pure granite, he was the original "immovable object."

But, let one small white-haired old woman get hold of him, literally or figuratively, and that stubborn Tanner will suddenly became as pliable as potter's clay. Nettie could draw him up short and snap him back into line with a single look, could with only a very few well-chosen words have him doing what no amount of threats or browbeating from men bigger than he could ever do. Before her stern but loving gaze, defiance gave way to compliance and, while everyone else looked on in stunned amazement, the mule-headed Texan would do whatever Nettie Wells wanted, and behave himself in the process.

Sometimes Larabee really, really wished he could get her a job with the Denver ATF.

"I know he's jist doin' what's best fer me. It's jist ... Of course, I wanta get well!" Vin protested sharply. "Hell, you know how much I hate bein' sick! An' we got this new case goin' ... Yes, ma'am, I know ... I know that, Nettie, I do. And I am takin' it easy, I promise." To Chris's surprise, he smiled shyly and ducked his head as a faint blush crept into his cheeks. "Yeah, he's takin' real good care of me," he said softly. "Says I make him crazy, but it must not be too bad 'cause he ain't kicked me out yet."

Chris snagged the coffee carafe from the warmer plate and went to the table, refilling both their cups. As Vin lifted his gaze to his, he winked and smiled, then walked back to the counter and returned the glass pot to the plate. He'd been surprised at how much Nettie's knowledge and acceptance of their relationship meant to him, yet even so he knew it paled in comparison to their importance to Vin. The woman was the closest thing to a mother he'd had since his own had died, and hiding any part of himself, whether it was the fact that he was gay or that he and Chris were lovers, hadn't been easy either for him or on him. It had come as a vast relief - and a vast surprise - to him that when Nettie Wells said there was nothing he could do to make her turn him out of her heart, she truly meant it.

"I know," he breathed, his smile spreading, his eyes alight, "yer jist worried about me is all. Chris says the same thing. Says I need naggin' 'cause I'm hard-headed. Though I don't see how he's got room t' talk ..." He chuckled softly. "Reckon we are a pair at that, ain't we? But ain't nobody ever been as good ta me as he is, so ya don't have t' worry, okay? ... I'll behave, I promise. ... Yeah, I love you, too, Nettie. 'Bye." He pulled the phone away from his ear and pressed the disconnect button, then set it down on the table.

"Well?" Chris prompted, returning to the table and sinking into the chair across from Tanner. "She satisfied you're gonna live?"

Vin waited for the man to pick up his cup and take a drink, then said with a smirk, "Reckon so. But she said you'd best take good care of me, else she'll come over an' take a strap to ya."

Larabee choked and spewed a mouthful of coffee. "If I don't ... What about you?" he gasped, wiping his mouth and chin and staring at Tanner in outraged disbelief. "Hell, you're the one she just spent ten minutes chewin' on!"

Heedless of the coffee gracing it, Vin set one elbow on the table and cradled his chin in his hand, fixing guileless blue eyes upon his seething lover. A lazy, crooked smile tugged at his mouth and, under the table, he extended his right leg and rubbed the inside of his foot up and down against Larabee's calf. "Yeah," he murmured in his soft, scratchy voice, "but she said she reckons you've got ways ta deal with me." His foot slid slowly up Chris's leg to his thigh, then wandered over to nestle into his crotch. "Whatta ya say, cowboy?" he drawled, his grin widening as Larabee gasped sharply and sat up straight. "Got any ideas fer takin' a hard case like me in hand?"

Chris swallowed hard and shuddered as his cock surged to painful awareness of the foot rubbing lightly against it. He should have expected this, he knew that now. Vin had been good all morning, too good, taking his pill without a word of complaint, eating an uncharacteristically healthy breakfast and resting obediently on the couch while Chris had seen to the barn chores. Larabee had thought the man had finally been exercising some common sense about his recuperation.

Instead, he'd merely been biding his time.

"You're an evil bastard, Tanner!" he croaked weakly, shuddering again as the pressure of Vin's foot against his cock sent tendrils of heat curling through his groin and belly.

"Yeah, I know," Vin purred. "I can be a regular handful."

Chris drew a slow, shaky breath and licked suddenly dry lips, trying to ignore the foot pressing against his aching cock. And failing. Miserably. The jeans that had fit so well before lunch had suddenly shrunk a size or three and all at once the well-ventilated kitchen felt uncomfortably warm. "What the hell did they put in your antibiotics?" he demanded hoarsely.

"Y' mean like Viagra or somethin'?" He pulled his foot away from Chris's crotch but draped his leg over Larabee's thigh, then lifted up his left leg to slide it over his lover's right one. "Hell, I don't need any a' that shit," he breathed, his blue eyes darkening. "All's I need t' git me goin' is a long, tall Colorado cowboy."

Chris was near drowning in those warm cobalt eyes and that soft, slow drawl, felt the low, husky voice wrapping around his mind and soul and drawing him ever more deeply under Tanner's spell. The pounding of his heart and the rushing of his blood suddenly seemed to be forcing all the air from his chest, making breathing all but impossible.

Or maybe he'd just forgotten how ...

Vin smiled slowly as he saw the heat flaring in Chris's eyes, as he felt the tension building in the man's body. All weekend long he'd watched Larabee battling to hold on to his infamous self-control, clamping down on his own desires as he'd fended off Vin's advances, exerting the iron will that made him the man he was. That made him the man Vin loved. And Vin had understood why. Hated it, but understood. Now, though, all that was over. He'd been watching the clock and had held out for as long as he could. His quarantine period was just about up.

And he was going to break Larabee's will and leave it lying in the dust.

He sat back in his chair and dragged his feet slowly down Chris's thighs, then back up again, wringing a soft, unsteady gasp from the man. He tilted his head slightly to one side and slid the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, smiling in satisfaction as Chris's eyes tracked that movement. Then, slow and supple as a cat, he sat up his chair, arched his back and raised his arms above his head, indulging in a long, lazy stretch that had his chest straining against the thin fabric of his t-shirt. He flexed his shoulders, rolled his head languidly on his neck and lowered and bent his arms, clasping his hands behind his head. His gaze never left Chris's face, his feet never left the man's groin. He slowly licked his lips again.

"We-ell," he drawled softly, his eyes wide, his face perfectly serious, "I reckon that sittin' here's done made me a mite ... stiff."

Chris would've gasped, except that he couldn't quite remember how to move air out of his lungs. He was staring helplessly at Vin's mouth, fascinated by the play of that pink tongue over those full, firm lips, was suddenly dying of thirst for the sheen of moisture glistening there. Long, slender toes were again playing at his crotch, and his cock ached horribly from its imprisonment in too-tight jeans. Some part of his brain tried to protest, tried to inject a note of reason, but a foot pressed into his cock, fire shot along his every nerve, and that last vestige of rationality went down in flames.

"Was thinkin'," Vin rasped, and Chris shuddered at the words that sealed his doom. He never fared well when Vin thought, and Tanner had had nothing to do this whole weekend but think. "Bein' sick like I been, fevered an' all, done left me all knotted up." He unclasped his hands and leaned forward in his chair, setting one elbow back on the table and cupping his face in that hand, laying the other arm on the table and gazing solemnly at Chris. "Wondered if mebbe there's some way you could help me ... work out the kinks."

Chris dropped the cup he'd forgotten he was holding, spilling coffee over the table and floor. Fine tremors ran through his body and sweat beaded over his flushed face. His heart pounded in his chest, his cock throbbed in his jeans and fire raged in his blood. He swept a glittering green gaze slowly over Vin's face, throat and chest, dropped one shaking hand to the foot nestled at his crotch and absently stroked the long toes, and suddenly knew how it felt to be caught in the crosshairs of Tanner's scope.

Goddamned sharpshooter had just notched another kill.

"I think ... maybe ... we could ... come up with somethin'," he agreed in a rough, ragged voice, still stroking Tanner's foot. "Maybe if we," he swallowed hard, "put our heads together."

Vin grinned slowly at that, his eyes taking on an unholy gleam. "Well, they do say that two heads are better'n one. An' I surely do admire yer ... head. So, tell me, cowboy," he rasped, his throaty voice turning the familiar nickname into a seductive caress, "where ya wanta have this pow-wow?"

"Hell," Chris croaked thickly, "this table's lookin' pretty good right now!"

Vin laughed at that, then slid his feet from Chris's lap and dropped them to the floor. "Well, mebbe if one of us hadn't spilled coffee all over the thing ..." He scooted his chair back and rose to his feet in a single, fluid motion, then held out a hand to his lover. "C'mon, cowboy," he invited, "how's about we let the horses outta the barn an' take a ride?"

Gazing helplessly into those midnight blue eyes, Chris rose slowly to his feet and set his hand in Vin's, closing his fingers tightly about the younger man's. Vin tried to pull him forward, but he stood firmly in place, shook his head slowly and smiled. At Tanner's puzzled look, he said softly, "In a minute. First, there's somethin' I've been missin'." With that, he pulled Vin to him, snaked an arm about the Texan's lean body and bowed his head, capturing in a hungry kiss the lips that had been denied him for two days now.

Vin shivered and melted into that kiss, moaning as Chris's mouth staked a demanding claim to his own. He'd missed this, too, the hard press of Chris's full, firm lips, the sweep and thrust of his impatient tongue, the taste and feel of the man he needed more than the air he breathed. Chris's tongue demanded entry and he gave it willingly, eagerly, his own rising at once to welcome and meet its mate. He groaned and shivered again, freed his hand from Chris's and wound his arm about the man's neck, driving his other hand into the gold silk of his hair.

Chris clutched Vin to him and buried his mouth in Tanner's with a throaty growl, feasting ravenously upon that tormenting mouth. Vin's taste and scent swept through him in an intoxicating wave, and the feel of that lean body against his, every angle, curve and plane fitting so perfectly against him, fueled the fire already raging within him. He growled again and drove his tongue into the depths of Vin's mouth, crushed the man to him and shoved a hard thigh between his two, thrusting his crotch into Tanner's.

"God, I've missed you!" he groaned into Vin's mouth.

Vin dragged his mouth from Chris's and swept it down to his chin, tonguing and sucking at the cleft there. "Been right here," he rasped between sharp nips at the man's warm flesh. "Jist like I'm always gonna be."

Chris closed his eyes and shuddered hard as that sweet mouth teased and tormented him, as Tanner's lips, teeth and tongue drove spikes of pain and pleasure through him. Vin licked, kissed and bit a burning trail along his jaw, seized upon and sucked at his earlobe, tongued the hollow just beneath it. Chris's breath came in short, sharp gasps, his heart thundered in his chest, and his racing blood sped the heat and ache of his need to every part of his body.

"Wantcha, cowboy," Vin whispered shakily into Chris's ear, dragging his fingers down the man's long back. "Wantcha in me. Got an emptiness an' I need you t' fill it."

Chris somehow managed to pull away just far enough to look into his lover's eyes and raised shaking hands to cup and caress that flushed, beloved face. "You sure?" he rasped, concern for Vin overcoming even his powerful desire. "Yesterday in the shower-"

"Was yesterday." Vin smiled slightly and lifted a hand to run trembling fingers lightly over Larabee's mouth, loving the man all the more for his worry. "I'm better, I promise. An' even if I ain't," dark blue eyes shone with heat and light as they bored into green, "I reckon there's worse things could happen to me than passin' out in yer bed."

Chris leaned back into Vin and reclaimed the man's lips in a searingly tender kiss. "Our bed," he whispered against Tanner's mouth. "Isn't a 'mine' anymore. Everything I've got, everything I am, belongs ta you."

Vin exhaled unsteadily and dropped his head to Chris's shoulder, pressing his face into the man's warm neck. "Damn, cowboy," he breathed, his soul rising sharply within him. "You might jist make me fall in love with you yet!"

Chris gave a low, throaty chuckle and wrapped his arms about Vin's waist, marveling anew at the depth and wealth of feelings this man inspired in him. "Trust me, partner," he murmured, "you ain't seen nothin' yet."

"Then show me," Vin urged, lifting his head to gaze into those fathomless green eyes. "Make me fall in love."

Vin gasped sharply and arched his back, driving his head back into the pillow and his fingernails into Larabee's shoulders as the man's mouth wrought havoc with his nerves. Chris licked and kissed a path between his pectorals, blew soft streams of warm air through the sparse hair there, then nipped his way with small, sharp bites to the oval of dark flesh surrounding one nipple and flicked his tongue in quick, light strokes against the hardened peak. He sucked in a sharp breath and clutched at Chris, then shuddered hard as that mouth clamped fiercely about his nipple and began sucking hungrily.

"Oh, Jesus!" he gasped as lightning jolted through him.

Chris fed upon that nipple for long moments, then dragged his mouth across Vin's chest to the other one, swirling circles around it with his tongue before seizing voraciously upon it. As he sucked and bit at the small, taut male bud, he swept his hands slowly down the length of Vin's body, stroking and kneading smooth, warm flesh, imprinting the feel of this man upon his deepest memory.

Vin's breath tore from him in small, soft moans and he writhed beneath Chris, against him, in a frenzy of mounting need. Larabee's mouth left his nipple and he whimpered in abandonment, but that protest was immediately smothered when those lips reclaimed his in a deep, demanding kiss. He wound his arms about Chris, arched himself against the man and cried out into that punishing mouth when his hard and aching cock raked against Larabee's.

Chris growled and thrust instinctively into Vin as the Texan's shaft sawed against his own, sending shockwaves through him. He clutched at Vin's hips, drove long, strong fingers into the man's flesh and buried his mouth in Tanner's, seeking to quench his fire but feeling it grow only hotter still.

God, God, what this man did to him!

Wet mouths feasted greedily upon each other, hard hands stroked and fondled and caressed, lean bodies surged and strained together in the agony of arousal. Sweat bathed their naked flesh, soaked into their hair and seeped into the bedding as the heat between them raged unabated. Thick, breathless cries mingled and filled the room as together they sought the obliteration and completion that lay only in each other.

Chris slid slowly down Vin's body, his mouth pressing slow, wet kisses against the man's flesh as he went. Finally reaching the prize he'd sought, he buried his face in Tanner's crotch and inhaled deeply of the man's rich, musky scent, then licked down the tender crease of one thigh and up the other, all but ignoring the rigid staff jutting proudly from a nest of earth-brown curls. From the junction of groin and thigh, he dragged his mouth to Tanner's heavy balls, laved his tongue against the lightly furred sacs and slid it through the slight valley between them, then drew them into his mouth and hummed softly as he sucked.

Vin howled and arched off the bed, nearly coming on the spot. Firm hands clamped down upon his hips to hold him still and he loosed a sobbing moan. He drove his long fingers into Chris's shoulders, his head thrashing wildly against the pillow, and gasped out wordless, incoherent pleas.

Chris released Vin's balls, planted tender kisses to each of them, then trailed his tongue to the tight, flushed hole behind them and pressed it to the puckered flesh. He rimmed the hole slowly and with intense concentration, all the while breathing Vin's scent ever deeper into himself. His own cock ached hideously, his own need throbbed for release, but he would not be hurried. Not a moment with this man, not a morsel of him, would he let go unsavored.

Vin trembled uncontrollably and tears seeped from his tightly closed eyes as Chris slowly shattered his sanity. His flesh burned and his soul ached. No one, no one in all his life, had ever loved him with such devastating power as Chris Larabee.

Finally, unable any longer to resist its allure, Chris shifted his formidable attention to the hard pole of Vin's desire. He licked slow circles around its thick base, found the prominent vein and licked along its length, lapped thirstily at the salty-sweet fluid coating the spongy head. He tongued the slit, nibbled back down the vein, and all the while had to fight to keep from reaching for his own cock and bringing them both off then and there.

But not even for a quick and merciful end to his own torment would he miss what awaited him in Vin.

"God, Chris, please!" Vin sobbed, arching his back and knotting his hands in the bedding. Pain screamed through his every nerve and his need pounded hard and heavily through him.

Hearing the desperation in his lover's voice, and realizing how close they both were, Chris thrust himself up onto hands and knees, his whole body shaking. Reaching frantically for the lube he'd set nearby, he fumbled to uncap it and squeezed a generous amount into his hand, then hurriedly slicked himself. His breath escaped him in gasping heaves and his heart beat a furious, frantic rhythm in his chest. His own touch very nearly undid him, but he held himself in check, wanting, needing, to find release in Vin.

"Easy, partner," he soothed in a hoarse, strained voice as he slid between and beneath his lover's legs. "Gonna take care of us both. Just stay with me a little longer."

"Always ... with ya," Vin rasped through his pain. "Ain't no place ... I'd rather be."

"Good," Chris gasped, positioning his flesh at that beckoning hole. "'Cause without you ... I got nothin'." And he slid into his lover's body.

Vin bucked and cried out at the penetration, but one hand gripped his hip to hold him still and another descended gently on his belly to trace slow, calming circles there. He clenched his teeth and forced himself to breathe through the cramping, burning pain, then shuddered and gasped when it subsided.

And only then did Chris begin to move, slowly at first but with a gradually building strength and speed, driving into Vin with long, sure strokes that wrung every bit of pleasure from both their bodies. Tanner's muscles clenched tightly about him, the man's wet warmth engulfed him, and suddenly he was thrusting into Vin with a force and fury born of his swelling need. Every breath he took, every beat of his heart, sent him plunging deeper into Vin, drove him ever further into the man who had become his breath and his heart.

Vin clutched at Chris and thrust down against him, desperate to force the man into his very soul. Chris filled him, consumed him, threatened to tear him in half and still it was not enough, was never enough, could never be enough of the man who was all he knew of love and life. Then Larabee's hand closed about his cock and began to pump, and his agony, his ecstasy, was complete. Worked inside and out, claimed inside and out, he gave himself wholly over to the maelstrom of sensations assaulting him and surrendered his all to Chris.

They loved with the primal ferocity that was theirs alone, two bodies moving in perfect unison, two souls joining in perfect union. Chris drove into Vin and Vin met him at every stroke, two men becoming as much one as they could possibly be. As their rhythm reached its utmost urgency, Chris shifted slightly, altered his angle inside Vin and raked again and again against his lover's prostate. Vin howled and erupted in a rush, jetting over Chris's hand in a thick stream as he exploded into release. Chris came in the next instant, his whole body shuddering violently as he shot his seed into his lover's bowels.

The force of it took them both by storm, convulsed them and emptied them, drained them of all but their knowledge of each other. Vin fell back against the bed, spent and shaking, and Chris collapsed onto him, trembling and gasping for breath. He lay there for long moments, unable to move or even to think, yet deeply conscious all the while of Vin's life pulsing about him.

Silence reigned in the bedroom as they lay entwined, a silence broken only by the sounds of their heavy breathing. Gradually, though, some measure of feeling, of thought, returned, and, as it did, Chris withdrew carefully from Vin and slid off him, rolling onto his back. But neither of them could stand even that separation. Chris reached for Vin at the same moment that Vin sought Chris, and within a heartbeat they were together again, Vin wrapped in Chris's arms and cradled close against his body, neither entirely certain where he stopped and the other began.

As if such distinctions either mattered or truly existed.

Chris felt Vin shiver and dragged the covers over them both, then slid one hand down to the middle of Vin's back and cupped the other about the sodden, shaggy head resting against his heart. "You all right?" he asked hoarsely.

Vin nestled closer still, draped himself over Chris and inserted one leg between his lover's two. "If I ain't," he breathed weakly, "this'll do 'til all right comes along."

Chris laughed softly. "Not hard ta please, are ya?"

"Not when it comes t' you," Vin rasped, a faint smile curving about his lips as his leaden eyelids slowly closed. "Hell, I reckon you could do nearly anything y' wanted to me an' it'd be all right."

Chris combed his fingers through Vin's hair and slowly stroked his back, hoping to lull him to sleep. "Only thing I ever wanta do to you is be good to you," he said in a low, warm voice. "Take care of you, make sure you're all right, make you happy. Give you the kind of life you deserve."

Vin pressed a gentle kiss to Chris's chest. "Cain't imagine what I ever did t' deserve you, cowboy," he breathed. "But whatever it is, I'm almighty glad I did it."

"Me, too," Chris murmured, pulling Vin closer still and molding his body into Tanner's. "'Cause I sure as hell woulda hated to miss out on you."

"There ya go, Lar'bee," Vin breathed in drowsy contentment as he sank into the peace he'd only ever found in this man's arms, "makin' me fall in love all over again."

"Well," Nathan murmured, shining his penlight into Vin's throat, "looks like the antibiotics are doin' their job. Tonsils are nearly normal an' I don't see no film." He pulled the light back and clicked it off, then stuck it in his shirt pocket. Reaching forward once more, he skillfully palpated the sharpshooter's neck just under his jaw, nodding in satisfaction. "Glands are nearly back ta normal, too." He dropped his hands and sat back on the coffee table, arching a dark brow at Tanner. "You doin' everything the doctor told ya? Takin' your pills an' all that?"

Vin slumped back against the sofa and folded his arms against his chest, scowling at the medic. "How come ever'body asks that?" he groused.

Nathan snorted sharply. "'Cause we know ya. Hell, I'd almost rather give Rain's cat a pill than make you take one. 'Least her cat's declawed."

"There's a thought," Chris muttered from his recliner.

Vin started to remind Larabee of the times the man liked his claws, then thought better of it. Nathan knew about them and accepted them, but acceptance didn't always translate into approval, and Vin had no desire to make his friend uncomfortable.

Besides, he figured he had ways of getting back at Larabee later.

Chris narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, not at all sure he liked the calculating gleam in his lover's eyes. Vin was definitely on the mend, and while he was deeply relieved, he was also ... wary.

Vin recognized Chris's sudden unease and gave him a small, smug smile. Chris bowed his head and shook it slowly, and, feeling quite pleased with himself, Vin turned his attention back to Jackson. "So I can go ta work t'morrow, right?"

Nathan hadn't missed the byplay between the two. And, though he still wasn't sure exactly how he felt about the more intimate aspects of their relationship, he couldn't help but feel grateful that his friends had found the happiness and healing each had so badly needed. Maybe he wasn't entirely comfortable yet with the idea of Vin and Chris as lovers, but the more he watched them together, the more he suspected that he was going to have a very long time to get used to it.

Like the rest of Tanner and Larabee's lives ...

"Nate?" Vin prompted softly, wondering where the medic's attention had wandered.

"Hm? Oh, yeah." Nathan shook his head to clear it, then smiled at Vin and lightly slapped his knee. "Yeah, you can come back ta work. Just," he leveled a thick forefinger in warning, "so long as ya don't over-do. We gon' need ya when we take Phelps down, so I don't want ya courtin' a relapse, you hear?"

Vin heaved a martyred sigh and rolled his eyes, then shook his head and scowled in disgust. "Hell, y'all act like I ain't got no sense- Shut up, Larabee," he ordered before the man could say a word. "Chris's been naggin' me all weekend, Nettie called ta chew on me a couple'a hours ago, an' now yer doin' it." He shook his head again and arched a brow. "I's takin' care of myself a long time 'fore any of y'all came along, y'know."

"We know," Nathan said sternly. Then that severity faded and he smiled warmly, giving Vin's knee another pat. "But you ain't gotta take care of yourself now," he pointed out gently. "You got us ta do it fo' ya."

Vin's irritation faded at that and he gave Jackson a small, shy smile. "Yeah, reckon I do," he breathed. "An' I ain't got the words ta tell ya how much that means."

Chris walked Nathan out to his car, leaving Vin on the sofa in the den and happily lost in the Cowboys' game against the Cardinals. Dallas had manhandled Arizona in the first half of the game and, with the second half about to start, led 17-7. Both Larabee and Jackson knew better than to expect Tanner to budge when his beloved Cowboys were doing well.

"Thanks for comin' by, Nate," Chris said as Jackson opened the Bronco's door and tossed his bag into the passenger seat. "I appreciate it."

Nathan turned and smiled at Chris. "Just wanted ta make sure he's doin' all right." He winked. "Make sure he ain't givin' you too many headaches."

Chris chuckled softly and slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Actually, he's been behavin' himself for the most part. Takin' his meds, restin', even eatin'. I've hardly had ta threaten him at all."

Nathan studied Larabee a moment, noted how relaxed he was, how utterly at peace he was with himself and the world around him, and nodded slowly. "He's good fo' ya," he said softly. "You two are good fo' each other."

Chris gazed steadily up into the bigger man's eyes, touched by the sincerity he saw in them. "Yeah, we are," he breathed. "I'm glad you can accept that. I'm glad you can accept us."

Nathan gave him a wry smile. "Maybe I still ain't too sure how I feel about it, but I do know this. I care about y'all too much ta let my own prejudices, if that's what they are, get in the way of friendship. I done lost too many folks I love already ta drive away any more."

Chris pulled one hand out of his pocket and extended it to Jackson. "Thanks," he said warmly, his voice and eyes full of feeling. "I think we've all lost enough already."

Nathan gripped that hand firmly and held it for long moments, certain that this man and the one inside were worth the time and effort it would take him to work through his uncertainties. Then, with a sudden chuckle, he squeezed Chris's hand and let it go, gesturing with his head toward the house. "Best you go on back in there an' keep an eye on that fool. See he don't tear up his throat again by screamin' like a banshee when Dallas wins."

Chris regarded the medic quizzically. "What makes you so sure they're gonna win? They've still got another half to play yet. Arizona could come back."

Nathan chuckled quietly as he climbed into the driver's seat and buckled himself in. "I don't think so." He looked at Larabee and winked. "This is lookin' like a real good year fo' cowboys."

It was certainly a real good day for the Cowboys. The third quarter went much as the first two had, with the Dallas offense continuing to rack up impressive yardage and the defense stonewalling the Cardinals at every turn. Even when the Cowboys couldn't get a touchdown, still they managed to score with a field goal and two-point safeties on two consecutive plays.

"Yes!" Vin shouted, leaping off the sofa as defensive end Kenyon Coleman tripped up and downed Cardinals quarterback Jeff Blake in the back of the end zone for the second safety. "All right!"

Chris laughed at Tanner's exuberant howl. He loved watching Vin watch the Cowboys, loved seeing the normally reserved man shed his tight control and throw himself into the action, cursing their mistakes, lamenting their losses and celebrating their victories all with equal fervor. It could be painful to see when the Boys were self-destructing, which happened all too frequently, but it was a joy to behold when they were winning.

Vin was a joy to behold when they were winning.

And he was thoroughly lit up now, blue eyes sparkling and shining brilliantly, white teeth flashing in a broad, bright smile, his formerly pale face flushed with glee. He threw back his head and loosed a wild rebel yell, thrust his fists into the air and spun around again, then dropped with an easy, agile grace across Larabee's lap, wrapping his arms around the startled man's neck and kissing him soundly on the mouth.

And it was Chris's turn to fall in love all over again.

"They're gonna win," Vin rasped as he drew back slightly, that wide, childlike smile still plastered across his face.

"Looks like," Chris breathed, utterly mesmerized by that smile and the light shining from those bottomless blue eyes. "Maybe they heard you were sick and needed some cheerin' up."

Vin turned on Chris's lap to straddle it, dropping his knees and calves onto the sofa to bracket Larabee's legs with his own. "Don't need them fer that," he said in his low, husky voice. "Got you." He leaned forward and once more pressed his mouth to Chris's, this time in a slow, sweet kiss. He laved his tongue over the man's full, firm lips, paying special heed to the enticing dip in the luscious lower one, and nibbled lightly at the corners of the wide mouth. Play was resuming on the big screen TV, but, right now, the cowboy before him was infinitely more important than the ones behind him.

Chris locked his arms around Tanner's narrow waist and pulled the man closer to him, opening his mouth to give Vin's searching one deeper access. Tanner's tongue darted forward and he swept his own against it, delighting in the taste that was so familiar, yet always new. He clutched Vin closer still, treasuring the feel of his warmth and weight against him.

God, how had he survived for so long without this?

At long last, the kiss ended and Vin pulled back slightly, his eyes wide and dark, his face flushed. A slow, lopsided smile curved about his wide mouth and he lifted a hand to Larabee's face, tracing with feather-light fingers the strongly sculpted features he already knew by heart. "'S a helluva prescription plan I got, huh?" he whispered hoarsely.

"We definitely gotta get you more of those antibiotics," Chris rasped, his blood thrumming hard and hot through his veins.

Vin laughed softly. "Told ya, it ain't the pills. It's you. Yer the best medicine I know."

Chris smiled and slid his hands to rest lightly against Tanner's trim hips. "Well, I'm glad you think so. Just don't know what I've done to deserve it."

"Hell, yer doin' it now," Vin told him. "Been doin' it all weekend long. An' without ever once makin' me feel like I'm a burden."

"You're not," Chris assured him. "I like takin' care of you. I like makin' sure you're all right. I wanta do everything I can to make sure I have you around for a good, long while."

"Even when I make ya crazy?" Vin teased.

But Chris shook his head slowly, his expression serious. "You don't make me crazy, partner," he said softly. "I was crazy before you got here. You're what keeps me sane."

Vin's smile lost its teasing and turned sweet as he gazed into those deep green eyes. "Reckon we're takin' care of each other then," he breathed. He brushed his hand slowly through Larabee's thick golden hair. "Reckon we're good fer each other."

Chris gave a low chuckle. "That's what Nathan said before he left."

Vin lifted both brows in sharp surprise. "Really?" When Chris nodded, he thought a moment, then smiled and shrugged. "Well, ol' Nate always has been awful smart." His brows and mouth drew down into a worried frown. "He all right with us then?"

"He's gettin' there," Chris sighed. He studied Vin for long moments, his own anxious frown forming. "How about you?" he asked softly. "You all right? It's been a long day, and," he arched a golden brow, "you've been kind of ... active."

"I'm all right," Vin answered with habitual, unthinking ease. But that blond brow climbed higher, and he sighed heavily. "All right, I reckon I am a mite tired," he admitted.

"And your throat?"

He thought a moment, swallowed experimentally, then shrugged. "Still hurts mebbe a little, but not near as much as it did."

Chris regarded him with mock severity. "And I'm sure that hollerin' at the TV hasn't helped it any."

"Hey, they's winnin', ain't they?" Vin protested. "How d'ya know my yellin' ain't what's helped 'em?"

Again, that golden brow rose. "I think," he said firmly, "that them finally learnin' just what the hell to do with the ball has helped their game more than your yellin'. After all," he smirked, "you yelled like a banshee all last season, and they still sucked. Badly."

"Hmph." Vin peeled himself off Larabee's lap and dropped sullenly onto the couch, folding his arms against his chest and lifting his chin defiantly. "I told ya, they was in a rebuildin' year-"

"Since when?" Chris cracked. "1999?"

"Ya got no faith, Larabee."

"Nope," Chris admitted easily. He leaned over and kissed Vin's temple. "You're the one with all the faith, partner," he breathed. "Got faith enough for both of us."

Vin's pout melted at that and a small, crooked smile tugged at his mouth. He cast a sidelong glance at Chris, then, his smile growing, turned and climbed once more into the man's lap, clasping his arms loosely about Larabee's neck. "Hell, y' know me. I've jist got a thing fer cowboys."

"Thought you had a thing for cranky old men?" Chris retorted, remembering an earlier argument.

Vin gave a sly grin and wagged his brows. "Mebbe I got a thing fer cranky ol' cowboys," he breathed. He cocked his head slightly to one side and fixed wide blue eyes upon his lover. "Y' know anybody hereabouts that might describe?"

"Oh, no you don't," Chris growled, marshalling a determined resistance to the appeal in those eyes. "You keep wearin' yourself out this way and you won't be able to go back to work tomorrow. And I am not explaining your relapse to Nathan!"

Vin exhaled sharply and scowled deeply. "Thought ya said ya liked takin' care of me," he grumbled.

"I do. But," he said pointedly, "there are lotsa ways of doin' that. And they don't all have to involve sex!"

"Mebbe not," Vin allowed dourly, "but they're a helluva lot more fun when they do."

Chris laughed softly and shook his head at the sight of the ATF's deadliest marksman sulking like a little boy locked out of a candy store. "You are somethin' else, Tanner," he chuckled. "You know that?"

"Yeah, but it obviously ain't somethin' you want," Vin muttered, bowing his head in disappointment.

"Now, that's not true," Chris breathed. He set a gentle hand under Tanner's chin and lifted until the blue gaze met his own, then smiled softly into his lover's eyes. "You are everything I want," he said in a low, warm voice. "But I want you healthy." He stroked Vin's mouth with a thumb. "Sometimes," he said gently, "you're like a man who's been starved too long. You act like you have to get it all right now, gorge yourself, just in case somebody takes it all away and you're left to starve again. But you don't have to do that anymore," he said. "Nobody's gonna take this away, take me away. Nobody can. And I promise you, Vin, I promise you, you're never gonna starve again."

Vin bowed his head again, stung by the truth in Larabee's words. "I cain't help it," he rasped. "I jist ..." He lifted his head and stared at Chris, then lifted a hand to brush the backs of his fingers against the man's cheek. "I jist don't ever wanta waste a minute," he breathed. "I ain't ever had nothin' like this before, ain't ever had nobody like you. An' I jist ... I jist don't ever wanta waste it."

Chris leaned forward and kissed Vin tenderly. "Just because we're not makin' love doesn't mean we're wastin' anything," he said softly. "What we've got isn't about sex, Vin. That's part of it, but only a part. And I don't love you any less when we're not havin' sex than I do when we are." He smiled and swept a gentle hand through Tanner's long hair. "That make sense?"

Vin gave a small, rueful smile and nodded faintly. "Things always make sense when you say 'em," he murmured.

Chris's smile turned teasing. "Can I have that in writing?"

"Sure." Vin grinned and winked. "Ain't like anybody can read my writin'."

Chris snorted and shook his head. "Damn, you're gettin' more like Ezra every day! Got an angle for everything!"

"Yeah, well, jist you remember," Vin breathed, slipping his arms once more about Chris's neck and leaning forward to press his forehead against Larabee's, "I got angles that Ezra ain't ever thought of."

"God help me," Chris sighed even as he tightened his arms about Vin. Then, still clasping Tanner to him, he shifted around and lay back, bringing his lover down with him. "Let's watch the rest of the game," he said. "See if they can do this without blowin' it."

"Hey, you leave 'em alone," Vin protested, wiggling around in Chris's arms until he lay with his back to his lover's chest. "They win this, it'll give 'em three straight wins, give 'em a good shot at leadin' their division."

"Doesn't say much for their division," Chris scoffed as he slipped a leg between Vin's and pillowed a cheek against his lover's head.

"Asshole."

"Not that you're gonna see anytime soon."

"'At's right, rub it in," Vin sulked. "Uppity goddamn cowboy."

"You got a thing for uppity cowboys, too?" Chris asked with a grin as he rubbed a hand tenderly up and down Tanner's arm.

Entirely against his will, Vin sighed, smiled and closed his eyes, relaxing beneath that gentle hand. "Reckon I do," he breathed, snuggling closer to Chris. "'Specially when they can make me fall in love with a touch."

THE END