Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Choices and Secrets	By : ladyinkslinger Category: M through R > Magnificent Seven Views: 2385 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Magnificent Seven, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Choices and Secrets
- 1
Comments: This is the sequel to Hobson's Choice. Many thanks to Winnie, Lyn, Kim, and Cat for their patience and support during those one-woman brainstorming marathons. And to the inspiration by wonderful author Robin Schone ("The Lover,""Gabriel's Woman"). This story features Chris, Vin and - surprisingly - Ezra.
Choices and Secrets

by Kathy B.
Vin sat out front of the hotel, watching the slow activity of the citizenry. A mother scolding her little boy, two grizzled men haggling over a debt, Mary trying to look interested as an older woman tried to give her some gossip for her paper. Three men riding in on horseback.
He watched them ride slowly into town, a dark one, a redhead and a Mexican. Something about them made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He continued to watch them as they rode up to the saloon, hitched their horses, and went inside.
Vin entered the saloon behind the two old men who were still arguing over their debt. His eyes scanned the room. The three had gone quietly to the bar. Chris and Ezra were playing cards, and hadn't noticed the three.
He was about to head for the trio at the bar, when a loud noise of breaking glass caught his attention. The argument over the debt had escalated.
"I'm tellin' ya, ya owe me two dollars!"
"And I say it was a buck fifty!"
Vin moved quickly between the two, as one man raised the broken bottle menacingly to the other.
"Now, boys-" he began, when one of them lunged.
His attacker didn't get far, as Chris caught his back leg, throwing him off-balance.
"Hey," shouted the other man indignantly. "You can't do that to my best friend."
The man froze, as Ezra said coolly into his ear, "unless you want that pocket watch forever ruined--and the flesh behind it--by this derringer, I'd hold still if I were you."
"Who are you people? What business is it o' your'n?"
"We're the law in this town," replied Chris. "And you're goin' t' jail."
Chris and Ezra escorted the two men out. Vin scanned the room for the three he had followed in here, but they were gone.
"Didja see 'im?" demanded the redhead.
"I seen 'im." Clay calmly lit a cheroot.
"That was him. And he's the law in this town. Reckon that!"
"I know."
"We oughta leave."
"No. No, I think we really oughta stay."
The Mexican studied him. "You have a plan?"
"I think we should have a little reunion..."

It was dark, but there was enough moonlight for Chris to be able to take his usual route to his shack in the hills.
He put up his horse, then trudged slowly inside, leaving his gun on the table.
Lord, he was tired, but he still wished Vin would stop by. Vin was at Nettie's for the night, tracking a couple of wolves around her ranch. Even though Chris felt too tired for any 'recreation' tonight, he liked having Vin near just the same, listening to his soft snoring and feeling the heat from his body.
Chris stripped to his underwear and stretched out on the bed, too tired even to crawl under the blanket. He closed his eyes and sighed. Not fully awake and not fully asleep, he heard a footfall on the cabin threshold.
"Back from Nettie's?" he mumbled. "Not tonight, okay?"
"Good," said a mocking voice as cold metal was pressed against his temple. "Wouldn't want no party-crashers, now, would we?"
Chris's body went rigid. He knew that voice.
"Remember us? I'll be real disappointed if you don't, after all the fun we had."
Chris suddenly remembered them, but more for what they'd done to him than for what they looked like. He'd been kept drugged almost constantly then, but they were three he couldn't forget. While he'd been kept as a male prostitute - no, a sex slave - by Wickes, they'd been customers. And Wickes had not been happy with what they'd done to Chris. He'd been furious, afraid of the loss of potential income if Chris was too physically damaged to perform.
"What do you want?" Chris demanded sharply.
"Y'know what we want? We want ya to treat us real nice. Hell, we're guests in this town. Ya wouldn't want us t' tell the rest of this town how we come t' make yer acquaintance, and what we did." Clay bent close, whispering in his ear, his breath sour with tobacco and whiskey. "You remember what we done with you...Or do you need a reminder?"
The redhead licked his lips. "Wickes made us pay extra for havin' a little fun," he whined.
"That's right. And here we are again, all four of us." Clay straightened and began to undo his belt.
Chris rose up from the bed trying to fight them off. A blow to his abdomen knocked the wind out of him and brought him to his knees, as another blow struck him in his head and his back. The beating continued until Chris was too weak and light-headed to fight back. He lay on the floor, gasping to draw breath into his pain-wracked body, even as he felt the three begin to cut his clothes off his body. When he felt the air against his bare buttocks, he again tried to fight them, again unsuccessfully. He grunted painfully as a weight settled on his back.
They were holding him down now and he knew he wouldn't be able to stop what was coming next. Clay's voice was above him. "Might as well get our money's worth now."
The redhead grinned. "Ain't that rape?"
Chris screamed in pain, outrage and fury as he was entered, his body feeling like it was being split in two.
In a voice filled with malicious delight, the man violating him replied, "Didn't your daddy teach you nothin'? You can't rape a whore."
When Chris awoke, he was naked outside his shack. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten there. He thought he remembered crawling-trying to get to Vin-once his attackers had ridden away.
Vin. Got to get to Vin, he thought as he pulled his body along the ground. Every muscle seemed in agony. He rolled onto his back and blinked at the dawn sky.
No, not Vin, he realized. Vin could never know what had happened to him. He'd been drugged at Wickes' place, but he wasn't now, and no one could ever know how he'd failed to defend himself. How much he'd failed.
His anus hurt fiercely, and his lips felt hot, sore and swollen. He rolled to his knees, then finally staggered to his feet. He looked around for the bucket, retrieved it, then-limping-he again headed for the well.
It was midmorning when Vin rode up to Chris's place, whistling. He'd been looking forward to seeing him, being alone with him. Fucking him.
The place was quiet but smoke was rising from the chimney pipe. He tied his horse and went inside. Chris was laying face down on the bed in his long underwear and a pair of pants. He turned with a start as the door opened.
"Whoa, easy there. Jus' me." He sat down, took off his hat, and ran his fingers through his long hair. "Thought you were over bein' jumpy like that."
Chris didn't reply. Vin looked around the room, beginning to note some differences from its usual appearance. The floor had been cleaned. To Vin's recollection, it hadn't been all that dirty.
"Sudden need to do housekeepin'?" He got up and sniffed the air, then bent down to look inside the tiny stove. "What're you burnin' clothes for?"
"Got ruined in an accident," Chris muttered.
"What kind of accident?"
"What's with all the questions?"
"Nothin'. Just askin' Geezus, calm down." Vin moved to touch him but Chris pulled away. "Don't look like you've slept." He noted a large, ugly bruise at the base of Chris's neck. "What's this mark on you?"
"Nothin'."
"Don't look like nothin'."
"Let it go, Vin."
Vin stared. What could've happened? Hell, it'd only been a day. How could Chris change so much in one day?
He racked his brain, trying to think of what he could've done to provoke this, but he hadn't been around Chris, so he was almost sure it wasn't him.
He looked at Chris one more time, sadness filling his body, and then slowly turned to go.
Buck sat out front of the saloon, Chris on one side of him and Vin on the other. Neither man had said a word to each other nor had they barely even looked at each other. It was driving Buck crazy and he was about to say something when a ruckus started just down the street. Old Mr. Simms was outside his store and he was shouting and pointing at a Mexican man who was calmly walking away.
"Stop him! Thief!"
Buck and Vin sprang out of their chairs and, with Chris a half-step behind, intercepted the Mexican.
"He stole them cigars," said Simms angrily.
"I didn't steal nothing," grinned the Mexican.
"The hell you didn't!"
"You gonna pay for them cigars," asked Vin.
"Alas, senor, I have no dinero. Perhaps you lend me some?" He grinned at each of them in turn, finally stopping to look pointedly at Chris. Behind him, Chris could see the Texan watching them.
"How much, Mr. Simms?"
"Chris?" Vin stared in surprise as Chris reached into his pocket.
"Them's imported," replied Simms. "They're expensive."
"This do it?" Chris handed Simms the money.
"Well...yes." Satisfied, he turned to go, then looked at the Mexican. "And stay outta my store." He disappeared back into his shop.
"Gracias, senor," the Mexican said to Chris. "You are very generous to an hombre you have never met."
"Just get outta here," said Chris in a low voice.
The Mexican touched his sombrero. "Perhaps we will meet again, someday."
"What the hell was that all about," hissed Buck. "Do you know him?"
"Just tryin' to keep the peace."
"Well, that was a mighty generous gesture. You keep tryin' to keep the peace that way and you'll go broke."
"My business, Buck," Chris reminded him as he strode away.

Vin didn't see Chris until the next day. He'd mentioned stopping by the shack the previous night, but the look on Chris's face had made it clear he wouldn't be welcome. Instead Vin had spent a cold, lonely night by himself wondering what the hell was wrong with Chris.
From his point of view, Chris's behavior only got stranger. The next time there was a dust-up, it was in the saloon.
He, Chris and Buck entered just in time to see Ezra's hand on his gun, and he was staring coldly at Slade, who slouched, smirking, in a chair at the card table.
"He's cheating," said Ezra. "And badly."
Chris looked at Slade, then back at Ezra. "Sure about that Ezra? Couldn't have made a mistake?"
"No," he responded in a flat tone that barely concealed his insult at the question.
"You sure?"
Silence hung in the room. Ezra studied Chris.
"It's possible," he said slowly. "But not likely."
"But possible." Chris looked at Slade. "Best take your money and go."
"Take his--" Ezra echoed, outraged.
Slade got up slowly and grinned. He scooped up the money on the table and sidled out.
Chris followed him out, leaving the others still standing there, stunned. Ezra turned to Vin, open-mouthed.
"What's gotten into him?" he demanded.
"I dunno," muttered Vin. "But I aim t' find out."

Vin pushed through the swinging doors and scanned the street. The man called Slade was walking slowly up the street to the hotel. Vin turned in the opposite direction in time to glimpse Chris heading down the alley. He caught up to him quickly and caught his shoulder.
Chris whirled around, ready to fight, but stopped himself as he recognized Vin.
"What the hell you doin' back there?"
To Vin's surprise, Chris sighed heavily. "You don't...understand."
"No, I sure as hell don't. That's twice you let some cowboy do whatever the hell he pleases. Don't you care about anythin' anymore?"
"Let it go, Vin."
Vin watched in helpless rage as Chris walked away. It was as if Chris had turned his back on everything and Vin could find no explanation for it. All he knew was that Chris had apparently turned away from his duty as a peacekeeper, and from Vin, too, it seemed, and it hurt deeply.
"Fuck you, Larabee," he shouted at last. "I don't need you either!" He thought he saw a flicker of pain in the pale green eyes, but then it was gone, replaced by a hardened coldness.
Again Chris started to walk away.
"Oh, no, you don't." Vin caught his arm and Chris spun around, poised to strike. Vin dodged the swing and punched Chris, knocking him to the ground.
"This time," he said, "I'm the one who's walkin' away."
Chris caught Vin by the ankle and pulled him down. The two men tussled in the dusty alley exchanging blows when JD spotted them.
"Buck! Josiah! They're fightin'!"
It took the three of them to pry the 2 men apart.
"Let go! Don't touch me!" Chris shouted as he freed himself from Josiah's grasp. He picked up his hat and wiped a drop of blood from his nose. "Just stay away from me! All of ya!"
Vin glared at him, breathing hard, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
"What the hell was all that about," asked Josiah in a calm voice.
"Ask him," said Vin, nodding after Chris. He brushed the dirt off his clothes with his hat and headed back toward the street.
Josiah moved to stand beside Buck. They watched the two men disappear in different directions. "You wanna ask 'im?"
Buck shook his head. "Sooner kiss a rattler with a burr in 'is tail."
"You mean there's a difference?" Josiah muttered and the two followed Vin back to the main street.

Chris rode back to his shack. It was always quiet and rather sparse, but now it seemed oppressively so. He'd avoided Vin as much as possible and, although he knew it puzzled and hurt the tracker, Chris preferred it to telling him who those men were and what they had done to him. But just barely.
He didn't think he could bear it if Vin turned away from him for what had happened to him. For not being able to stop it. It would hurt like hell if Vin felt he could no longer trust Larabee to watch his back.
Chris sighed. Vin. He wished Vin was there right now, touching him. The tracker's touch awakened his senses in ways he'd never known before. It had been not so very long ago but now felt like it was a million years past.
For the first time in a long time, Chris Larabee felt lonely.

Vin sat on the hillside, watching the sunset. For all his outward calm, his thoughts and emotions were in turmoil, raging inside him like a storm that wouldn't let up. Whatever was wrong with Chris, it had something to do with those three who'd ridden into town. He didn't know why, but he could just feel it.

An owl hooted softly in the distance, the desolate sound carried lightly through the pines on the night breeze. The owl wasn't the only living creature still awake at that hour.
Chris tossed on his bed, unable to get comfortable. His gun was close at hand in case he had any more 'night visitors' and every strange sound caused his hand to twitch toward it.
He needed a drink. He reached for the bottle, but found it nearly empty. He took the last swallow, muttered a curse and threw the empty bottle hard against the wall.
Back in town, another insomniac was wrestling with sleep. Vin lay on his back clad only in his pants and wondering what had suddenly gone so terribly wrong with his relationship with Chris. At first he thought it was those 3 men he'd seen but it made no sense. And yet his gut told him differently. His gut had to be wrong, he was sure. Damn, he needed a drink. A quick check of his empty pockets revealed that it wasn't to be.
Damn that Larabee! The blond gunslinger had gotten under his skin. He'd never been interested in men before, not in that way, but there was something about Chris. Ever since they'd rescued him from Wickes, ever since Chris had revealed how he'd thought about Vin...Vin hadn't taken the news all that well at first, but after giving it some thought, he had to admit there were feelings there he didn't quite understand. All he knew was that being alone with Chris in those intimate moments took him to places he'd never been before. Places he longed to be
right now. He rolled onto his stomach to wait for a slumber that wouldn't come.

Ezra sat out front of the saloon. He watched as Vin rode out of town. There was a determined set to the tracker's jaw that told him that Vin was headed out to Chris's. Idly, he wondered if he should follow, just to make sure they didn't kill each other.
No, that wasn't the reason. It was something more. And it went back to that time in Hobson's Choice.
As far as Ezra knew, no one had told Chris of his visit in his disguise as "the older Southern gentleman" at Wickes's. Memories came flooding back in a rush. Images of Chris, naked and nearly helpless. Chris, who had been with other men. Chris who had not seen through Ezra's disguise and would have done anything he demanded. ANYTHING. Chris, who had been married and, as far as Ezra knew, had never willingly had sex with men before. And yet once they returned home, Chris chose to share his body with Vin.
Ezra knew about the new relationship between the two men. They all knew. From Ezra's point of view, it wasn't the first time he'd ever heard of such things between men, and he was hardly a man who could afford to judge others for the deeds they did. There was something about it that bothered him all the same. It was deep in what Mr. Tanner would've referred to as his gut. The little pangs that fisted in his stomach felt like...jealousy. But that couldn't be true. It couldn't be right. Jealous? He wasn't jealous of Vin. Vin. Where had that come from?
He was not inclined in such a way, he was sure, but there was something about Chris. Something primal and raw that could not be ignored. Something he'd sensed when he was alone in that room, with Chris reaching for his groin as he'd been forced to do countless times before Ezra and the others came to his rescue.
Given the altercation they'd had, Mr. Tanner was no doubt on his way to have it out with Chris and repair their damaged relationship. And a very small part of Ezra hoped Vin didn't succeed.
Ezra needed to talk to someone. He thought a moment. Who could he confide in? It wasn't his usual style to do so, but he needed to get a decent night's sleep. His livelihood depended on it.
He stood up at last and headed straight for the church. The others often sought out Josiah. So had he, and the results had been mixed at best. But to Ezra's recollection, priests were bound to keep confessionals secret. Even though Josiah was an ex-priest, he still clung to many aspects of his faith. And this time Ezra was betting heavily on that.
He found Josiah kneeling on the floor between two pews, engrossed in replacing a broken floorboard. Ezra stood silently, watching him.
Josiah peered underneath the pew at the shiny boots, then turned back to his work.
"You wanna talk, Ezra?" He pounded in the last nail and sat in the pew, watching him. Ezra shifted uncomfortably. Sometimes it seemed like Josiah could peer into his very soul, if indeed he had one, as Sanchez kept insisting.
"I'll...I'll come back later." He turned and started toward the door.
"This about Chris?"
Ezra stopped abruptly, feeling the hairs rise on the back of his neck. He turned slowly to face Josiah. In the back of his mind, he considered just tossing dignity to the wind and bolting out the door.
Josiah smiled gently. "You're among friends."
Ezra slowly took a seat in the pew beside Josiah. Josiah picked up a bottle of whiskey from under the pew and offered to him, but Ezra waved him off and opened his flask. He took an unusually deep swallow before continuing. Josiah frowned, watching him.
"I can't..." Ezra hesitated. "I can't get that picture of how we found him out of my mind." He stopped, gathering his thoughts. "When we liberated Mr. Larabee from that hell hole...I would never tell the others but...when I found him?" He took another pull from his flask.
"He tried to.." Ezra took a deep breath, letting the words spill out in a rush. "He tried to service me, Josiah." He paused to let this sink in. "Oh, he didn't know who I was. He thought I was just another customer."
Ezra leaned closer.
"It's been on my mind since then. Seeing him with Vin. I could've had him, Josiah. I could've had him and no one--not even Chris--would ever have known."
"You sorry you didn't?"
Ezra sat back, his expression thoughtful.
"No. In my...'profession'...trust is something to be exploited. But with him it's different. His trust is something to be appreciated. I could never do that to him."
"Then what is it you want?"
"I want...I want to stop thinking that way."
Josiah put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "That's guilt, Ezra."
The con artist shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"All right, yes, guilt. I feel guilty for those thoughts. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Josiah shrugged. "I can't absolve you of your guilt. Only you can do that."
"Well, that was helpful."
"Ezra, stop beatin' yourself up over this. You did right by Chris and that's all that counts."
Ezra looked at him in genuine surprise. "It is, isn't it..."

Chris startled awake. A sound. Hoof beats. Cautiously he eased out of bed and picked up his gun. His stomach knotted painfully as he slowly eased back the hammer and waited.
Whoever it was, he was stopping out front. A moment later Chris heard boots on the small porch outside his door. His muscles tensed. He could feel his balls tighten even as his breathing stopped.
There was a long pause. The visitor couldn't seem to make up his mind to come in. The door opened slowly as Chris took careful aim.
For an instant, his heart kicked against his ribs. His finger twitched. A flash of buckskins cleared the open door and Chris's finger stilled.
"You plannin' on usin' that" Vin asked quietly.
Chris stared at him but didn't put his gun down as Vin slowly moved closer to him. Chris could feel each step. He could feel the heat from Vin's body. His grip tightened on his gun till his knuckles went white.
Silently he prayed that Vin would stop coming closer. He didn't know what he'd do if Vin touched him. Die, maybe.
Chris was afraid. He closed his eyes as Vin moved even closer. He felt Vin's lips brush against his ear. He felt his own body trembling.
"Please," he croaked, his throat tightening.
"Please what?" Vin whispered.
Chris's mind whirled. Please stop? Please don't stop? Suddenly he didn't know what he wanted. He felt intoxicated by Vin's coffee-scented breath. The musky scent of him drove all thoughts out of his brain.
"Please what?" Vin said again, his teeth lighty nibbling along the corded muscles of Chris's neck. "What do you want, Chris? Do you want me?"He did want Vin. He wanted Vin more than anything else in the world right now. He'd never felt so empty as these past nights without the tracker to warm his bed, his weight pressed against Chris's back as he slept.
Chris felt the hard bulge of Vin's groin nudging him backwards toward the bed. He could feel a rush of heat between his thighs and his testicles tightened from the pressure of Vin's body against him. His knees gave way just as he reached the bed and he sat down heavily.
Vin bent low, his mouth again by Chris's ear, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin. "I want you, Chris." His fingers dropped to Chris's fly. "Please let me."
His mouth pressed hungrily against Chris's, the pressure of warm, soft lips making him dizzy. He felt Vin's fingers brush his hands away, then deftly unbutton Chris's fly. Cool air touched him as his own erect flesh was released.
Whatever anger there was between them was all but forgotten as Chris surrendered to the heat that enveloped him, that stopped his breathing and ceased all thought. Vin's fingers deftly unbuttoned Chris's shirt. He bent low to capture a nipple between his teeth and Chris drew in a sharp breath at the contact. His own shaking hands clumsily tried to undress Vin.
Chris snarled in frustration, nearly tearing Vin's clothes in his haste. Vin's mouth caught his again as he helped Chris to remove his clothing. Once Vin was naked, Chris lifted his hips and shucked his pants. He leaned back, Vin following, until he felt the soft mattress against his back.
He felt the tracker's fingertips against the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. Instinctively he spread his thighs and tilted his hips. Vin slid his hand along the curve of Chris's ass and began to massage Chris's anus with the pad of his thumb. Slowly, carefully, he pushed in one finger and waited. The muscle clenched, then finally relaxed. With his other hand, he began to stroke the silky steel of Chris's shaft. He carefully pressed in a second finger and almost immediately felt Chris's body tense up. He let go of Chris's penis and gently massaged
his anus again. When he felt Chris relax again, he carefully pushed the head of his penis into Chris's body. Chris tensed again, then gave in to panic.
"No! No! Don't! Stop, please, Vin!" Chris cried out hoarsely.
Vin stayed very still, keeping his voice calm and even.
"What do you want me to do, Chris? Do you want me to pull out?"
"Yes! Yes! I can't...!" Chris gasped.
Slowly, carefully so as not to cause Chris any pain, he removed himself from Chris's body. Chris sat up, still breathing heavily. Vin reached out and gently rubbed his shoulders.
"You okay?"
Chris nodded, taking in big gulps of air even as he fought to control his breathing. He could still hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Chris looked at Vin with a stricken expression, then turned away.
"Chris?" Vin gently touched his shoulder.
Chris flinched. Still naked, he stood up abruptly and walked to the window. He squinted against the sunlight, feeling the sun's heat replace the heat from Vin's touch. He turned to Vin, a look of profound sadness in his eyes.
"I was told never to let a man do that to me," he said at last in a soft whisper..
"Who told you?"
Chris shut his eyes. Faces came back to him, sharply, clearly. He had been eleven when his father sent him to their neighbor's to help the ex-minister out with some chores. He would be paid enough for all the penny candy he could eat without getting sick.
And Chris had done a good, thorough job of it, showing up every day after school to work for two hours before going home to his family's chores. But as the weeks wore on, the neighbor began to take more of an interest in Chris. He persuaded him to do the hot, dusty work shirtless and occasionally rewarded his hard work with a few sips of whiskey. It had burned his throat and he hadn't really liked the taste, but he liked feeling like a man - like his dad - when he drank it. He'd be told how big he was getting, how strong he was, and he'd be given more
whiskey. And the man would touch him affectionately. Or at least 'affectionately' was what the man told him, even though it had made the 11-year-old boy feel funny inside.
"Do you want to see what grown men do when they're alone? It'll be our little secret. Some men - men like your pa - they just don't understand."
Chris had trusted him, trusted him enough to ignore his fear even as he slowly took off his clothes in the barn, just as the man was doing. He stood naked, shaking from the cold. The man smiled, his thick, stubby penis jutting from a tangle of silvery black hair.
"It's what grown men do. You do this for me and then I'll do it for you. I'll make you feel real good," the man had crooned softly.
Chris slowly dropped to his knees in the hay, the man standing before him. His hard flesh inches from Chris's mouth even as his big hands tangled in Chris's hair, holding his head in place. It was too late to stop it. Slowly, reluctantly, he opened his mouth.
There was a rush of air and the man uttered a startled curse. Chris's head snapped around, following the man's gaze.
His father stood in the doorway of the barn, his mouth open in shock and disbelief. For an instant, Chris felt relief. In the next instant, he wanted to die of the shame.
"He beat that son-of-a-bitch nearly to death," Chris said softly to Vin. "He was found dead two days later. They never caught who did it. They never even tried." Tears burned the corners of his eyes. He brutally wiped the back of his hand across his eyes before continuing. "Then he beat the hell out of me...Told me to never ever let any man do that to me again. All the time he was hitting me, he told me how a man fights until he dies if he has to, but no man lets another man touch him that way. Beat me so bad, I missed three
days of school."
He sat on the bed again, staring at the floor. Finally he looked into Vin's eyes. "I should've died in Hobson's Choice. I should've let them kill me...But I didn't."
Without a word, Vin put his arms around Chris. The lean, hard-muscled body was trembling uncontrollably from the onslaught of horrific memories as Vin tried to comfort the 11-year-old boy who just wanted a little extra spending money for some penny candy.
"I'm sorry, Chris," he said at last in a choked voice. "I-I can't imagine what it coulda been like at Wickes', bein' raped so many times. And after somethin' like that..."
"No."
"What?"
"I wasn't raped that many times," Chris said tonelessly. "I was raped the first few times. After that, it was just easier to give them what they wanted...You can't believe how much it hurts...if you don't." He turned away, no longer able to meet Vin's gaze. His stomach knotted painfully. "Besides...you can't rape a whore."
The two naked men sat there in silence for a very long time, one refusing to let go of his friend, trying to hold the pain at bay for just a little while longer.

The following evening, Ezra sat in the saloon feeling the several drinks he'd already had. He thought Vin and Chris had each gone his own way but things didn't look like that now. He gazed through the bottom of his empty glass, waving for the bartender to bring him another.
Damn Tanner. Damn Larabee. Damn himself. Damn all humankind.
Talking to Josiah hadn't helped at all. If anything, Ezra had begun to notice a frequent stiffening in his trousers every time he saw Chris Larabee - usually in the presence of Vin Tanner.
Why Vin?
Why couldn't he have what Vin now had?
The thing that struck Ezra as odd was the apparent attraction the two men shared. In some ways, they were so alike - stubborn and independent - it looked more likely they'd kill each other than - to use a term more suited to Vin Tanner - fuck each other. Yet that bond was sometimes difficult to discern. Chris seemed increasingly mercurial where Vin was concerned. At times, he stood so close to him, it was if he was physically a part of Vin. At other times, he seemed so distant, it was like the two were barely acquaintances. Perhaps Chris's tastes were
changing. Perhaps he wanted more than a man like Tanner was willing or able to provide.
Ezra sighed. Chris intrigued him. He saw Chris as a man who was more than capable of articulating his needs and desires. Ezra took another deep swallow of his drink, feeling the burning liquor form a fire in the pit of his stomach. A feeling not unlike the kind he'd had at night when unbidden thoughts of Chris overwhelmed his mind. But that wasn't all.
Ezra was jealous. Dangerously so, and he knew it.
After all, he had the first shot at Chris before anyone. In his mind, he played out the scene at Hobson's Choice, but in a very different way. In his fantasy, Chris offered himself as he had then, only this time Ezra - comfortably anonymous in his disguise - took him in his own skilled manner, bringing them both to a shattering orgasm. In the afterglow, Ezra would reveal his identity to Chris at last, and a new bond between them would be formed.
Alas, fantasy.
Frustrated, he downed the last of the whiskey and shoved the empty glass aside. He got up to leave the now-empty saloon.
His legs barely obeyed him as the street tilted and swirled beneath him. When he tried to walk forward, he instead moved sideways. He could just make out the shaky images of two figures approaching him. He squinted in the moonlight, trying to solidify the shapes in front of him.
Vin. And Chris was with him.
He stared belligerently. "Well, well..." he drawled thickly.
"C'mon, Ezra," said Vin. "We're takin' you back to your room."
"I don't need--"
Chris interrupted sharply. "It's either that or you can sleep it off in jail."
Ezra tried to straighten up with offended dignity, but the effect was lost due to the heaving ground under his feet. "Are you suggestin', sir, that I am in-in-inebr- drunk?"
"Nah," said Vin. He put Ezra's right arm across his shoulders, while Chris did the same with the other. "Just needin' t' sleep in yer own bed."
Chris was close to him. Too close. Ezra's head swam; not with the liquor but the scent of the man beside him. "You smell like leather," he whispered softly. He must have slurred because Chris didn't react as if he'd understood or even heard.
He allowed them to half-carry him to his room. His mind was fixated on the feel of solid muscle and bone under the expanse of his left arm. And the heat...Inwardly he groaned as he felt a heat of his own, accompanied by a tightness in his groin.
Vin opened the door to Ezra's room. The instant they were inside, Ezra gathered some of his senses and pulled away, staggering further into the room.
"Unhand me. Let me go! You've done enough," he snarled.
Vin stared at him with a puzzled expression. Damn those big blue eyes. Suddenly Ezra felt...what? Anger? Hate?
"Ezra, lay down. Sleep it off," Vin said, a hint of disgust in his voice.
"Don't you patronize me, Vin Tanner!" He staggered back a few steps, muttering to no one in particular. "Trying to make me look bad in front of...him." He pointed at Chris. "If he was mine, I'd treat him far better than you ever could. I'm the kind of man he really needs..."
The two men were gaping at him now. Well, fine. It was all out in the open now. Chris knew and could make his choice. He looked at Chris in triumph, but the feeling was short-lived.
"Shut up, Ezra," he said curtly.
"You don't know..." Ezra wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He was sweating suddenly and he didn't know why. He started to laugh, but he didn't know what was so damned funny. All he knew was that he couldn't stop. "You don't know! You owe me! Vin Tanner, you'd never have had him if it wasn't for me!"
"Shut up!" Chris shouted.
But Ezra was past hearing. The words came out in a torrent and there was nothing he could do to stop them.
"Do you remember? Do you remember, Chris? In Hobson's Choice? A man--an old Southern gennulmin in a white suit an' he--he was there and he paid for you--"
Chris was staring, his green eyes narrowed to jade slivers, his hands balled at his sides. His body looked like a tightly-coiled spring.
"He paid well, I might add, and you tried--tried to--you reached for the vent in his trousers--"
Chris lunged for him, screaming to stop. Vin quickly got between them even as the words kept coming like an out-of-control freight train.
"And when he said no you--you offered yourself to him--and there you were, so ready, so willin'--I wanted you, Chris--I could've had you--taken you right then and there and no one--you wouldn't even have known it was me--And I still want--"
He laughed again, the laughter all around him now, echoing in his ears. He saw Chris slide to his knees and through his own laughter he could barely hear Chris's pleading voice saying to Vin, "Please make him stop...."

Vin was trying desperately to calm Chris. Ezra's drunken 'confession' was taking its toll. Vin had stepped between them only to stop Chris from choking Ezra to death.
Now Chris knelt on the floor, shaking all over. Vin straightened and turned to silence Ezra when he saw that the con artist had suddenly, mercifully passed out on the bed. Good. One less thing to deal with. He turned his attention back to Chris who was still on his knees, staring blindly at the floor.
"Chris?" Vin kept his voice as soft and as gentle as he could. He took Chris by the arms and tried to get him to stand. "C'mon, Chris. It's over. He's out for the night." Vin had managed to get him to stand but there was no other response. "It's late...Let's go back to your room for the night."
No response.
"Chris? Your room?"
Slowly Chris lifted his head and looked at Vin, green eyes dark with shock.
Vin didn't have to be able to read minds to know what his friend was thinking.
You never let a man touch you like that.
Neither man spoke as Chris allowed Vin to take him back outside and to his own room. He sat on the bed, stoic, as Vin knelt to help remove his boots.
"Ezra wants to fuck me," Chris said at last.
"I heard," Vin agreed.
Silence.
"All those men...They wanted to fuck me."
"I know." Vin's voice was hoarse.
There was another long silence.
"You want to fuck me."
"Yes."
Chris looked into his eyes. Vin knew what he saw: the hunger and need...Chris shut his eyes and turned his head, lips forming a thin, taut line.
Vin stayed on his knees in front of Chris.
"What do you want?" he asked quietly.
Chris raised his head slowly, lifting long, pale lashes.
"I don't know," he croaked, voice cracking with pain.
Vin nodded.
Chris's gaze drifted to the floor.
"I think...I think I'd like to sleep now."
Vin looked at him uncertainly. When Chris didn't say anything more, he stood and quietly left the room.
It was a long time before Chris Larabee fell asleep.

There was a long, endless line of men. All kinds of men. Naked men. Naked men, each with a long, thick hard-on and all were lined up for him. And Chris was on the bed, flanked by huge guards and forced to take each man in the line. Whether in his mouth or his anus, each was more painful than the last. He wanted to scream but his mouth was full even as he was being pounded in his body. Finally, the cock in his mouth spurted and he pulled his head away to scream...
He sat up, sweating and shaking. His eyes darted around his room.
To his surprise, he wasn't alone. Vin was asleep in the chair. Chris looked at him for a long time, then burrowed deeper under the bedclothes and this time drifted into a peaceful, unbroken slumber.
He didn't see one blue eye open to watch him, before finally closing to join him in sleep.

Ezra awoke to a pounding in his head. It was several seconds before he realized that the noise accompanying the pounding actually came from someone beating on his door. Each thud lanced through his brain as fireworks exploded behind his eyes. He stood on unsteady feet but before he could answer the door, it opened and Vin stepped into the room. Ezra eyed him warily.
"Good day, Mr. Tanner." Ezra turned away from him. Bending over the basin on the dresser, he splashed some water in his face. "What do you want?"
"To talk."
Ezra wiped his nerveless fingers with a hand towel.
"Indeed. About...?"
"You remember last night?"
The con artist stared into the mirror as he began frothing his shaving soap with quick, sharp flicks of his wrist.
"I haven't had my morning coffee yet."
"You said some things."
"I must confess...my recollection of the events of the previous evening are vague at best."
"Cut the double-talk, Ezra!"
Ezra turned to look at him, his green eyes blazing despite his hangover.
"I don't remember," he said tersely. "Is that plain enough for you?"
Ezra turned back to the mirror and dabbed shaving soap onto his face.
Vin stood there, motionless, watching him.
"You want Chris."
Ezra's hand froze, but he continued to stare into the mirror.
"Did I say that?"
"Why didn't you take him when he offered himself to you?"
"What would you have done, Mr. Tanner?"
Vin shrugged.
"This ain't about me."
Vin stepped closer. Ezra tried to look unconcerned as he slowly, carefully dragged the straight razor down the side of his face.
"Why did you say that to him? You know he was raped."
Ezra put down the razor, a muscle in his jaw twitching with anger.
"I know better than YOU do," he said hotly. "I was there. I SAW what men were doing to him. And I was there when he was calling--no, whimpering--for you to rescue him when it was me who was there instead."
Vin said nothing, his blue eyes widening in shock.
"It tears your guts out to see what they could reduce a man like that to. But YOU didn't see that. And I'll never forget it."
"What about Chris?" Vin said at last.
"What do you want from me, Mr. Tanner?"
Vin stared at him a moment.
"Stay away from Chris."
"Jealous?" Ezra could see Vin stiffen slightly. He couldn't help savoring Vin's discomfiture for a moment. "You needn't be," he said with a sad smile. "You're the chosen one."
"Yeah, well...You've done enough."
Ezra crossed his arms with an air of finality. "Anything else?"
"I'll let you know." Vin turned and sauntered out, closing the door behind him.
"Do that," Ezra said under his breath.

When Chris opened his eyes, the room was empty. He was disappointed the ex-buffalo hunter hadn't stayed after all. He lay there in bed, staring blindly ahead him towards the sunlit window, as the events of the night before brought him crashing full-force into the light of day.
Ezra.
Ezra wanted him. Ezra wanted him in ways Chris had never dreamt of. Why did it seem like every man he ran into lately wanted to have sex with him? Had the whole damned world gone loco?
It had been a horrific experience in that dirtwater town. Chris had no idea how many men he'd been forced to service or how many times. In his drugged state, it had seemed endless. Dimly he remembered "an old Southern gentleman," and he remembered Ezra's soft drawl. He had never thought to put the two together.
If what Ezra said was true - and sometimes with Ezra there was no telling - then he wasn't being forced to do anything. He was willing.
Chris closed his eyes as his stomach clenched painfully. Burning moisture leaked from under his lashes to leave warm tracks down his face.

You can't rape a whore.
Maybe he really was a whore. After all, there was Vin.
You never let a man touch you that way.
And he had. He'd welcomed Vin's touch. Welcomed him into his body.
Chris began to tremble all over and couldn't understand why he suddenly felt so cold.
The door opened. Startled, he reached for his gun but stopped when he recognized the intruder.
"Breakfast," a tray-laden Vin announced, grinning. The grin vanished, replaced by concern. "You all right?"
Chris merely nodded, afraid his voice might betray his emotions.
"Got Inez t' scare ya up some food." Vin studied Chris carefully. "She'll be mighty hurt if this tray comes back and it ain't empty."
He sat down on the bed next to Chris, noticing the fact that Chris had pulled the bedclothes tighter around himself.
"You cold?"
Chris nodded. Vin poured a steaming mug of coffee and carefully placed the hot cup in his shaking hands.
"That oughta warm ya up."
Chris watched him over the rim of the mug as he slowly sipped at the strong, hot brew. It felt good as it slowly snaked down into the pit of his belly. He flushed slightly under Vin's scrutiny.
At last Vin broke the silence. "Yer thinkin' 'bout what Ezra said."
"Don't."
"Chris, I have to. Whatever happened there, it doesn't matter. You were raped."
"Was I?"
"Yeah," said Vin, his chin set stubbornly.
Chris shook his head. "I don't know. I let someone do that to me when I was 11. And then at Wickes', after awhile I stopped fightin' and them do that to me because it was just easier. And Ezra says I--"
"I know what Ezra says," Vin cut in sharply. "Do you believe him?"
Chris eyed him doubtfully. "Do you think Ezra would lie 'bout somethin' like that?"
"No," Vin reluctantly agreed. "Chris...I have to know...Do you want him?"
Chris ignored the question. "Do you think I'm a whore?"
"Well...Do you remember why you went there?"
He nodded. "Lydia." He had gone there to help Lydia, only to discover it was a trap. Chris felt that coldness seep through his body again. He studied Vin carefully, his green eyes reflecting the pain he felt.
"I'm tellin' you: it was rape, Chris. All of it was."
"What about you?" he rasped. "I let you do that to me. Was that rape?"
Vin refused to take the bait. "It's whatever you want it to be," he whispered. He leaned in close and brushed his lips against Chris's hair. Chris flinched from the intimacy. The two men fell silent. There seemed to be nothing more to say. Vin stood up to go. "Make sure that tray gets back to Inez, okay, or she'll have my hide."
Chris watched him softly close the door. He picked up a fork and poked the food, already growing cold on the plate. With a snarl, he flung it across the room. It hit the opposite wall with a satisfying crash, sending dishes and food everywhere.
His anger and frustration finally boiled over and he began to throw anything he could lay his hands on. Bedding, toiletries, clothes - everything flew around the room until at last, panting from the exertion, Chris stood there with his hands clenched at his sides. The anger had drained out of him at last and now hot tears blinded his vision. Unable to rein in his emotions any longer, he collapsed on the bed. He rolled onto his side and drew in his knees and tried not to think about the men who wanted him.

Ezra sat outside the saloon, idly shuffling a pack of cards. His outward nonchalance belied the thoughts and feelings raging within. He watched as Chris appeared on the street for the first time that morning. Even without Chris looking at him, Ezra knew he was keenly aware of his presence. The con artist looked down at the cards, shielding his eyes so that he could continue to watch without Larabee noticing. Only a very sharp eye would have noticed Chris's usual easy, graceful strut had been replaced with a very uncharacteristic uncomfortable,
stiffened gait.
Ezra stayed where he was. He wasn't avoiding Chris because of Vin Tanner. The hell with Vin Tanner. But he didn't think he could face Chris now, knowing what he'd said to him. He had never meant that Chris should ever know what happened in Hobson's Choice or even his own feelings about it all. But now it was too late to take it back.
Ezra watched as Chris continued down the sidewalk and disappeared inside the tobacconist's shop. His jaw clenched reflexively in response to an uncontrollable tenting in his trousers. Why did he keep feeling this way about Chris? And why couldn't he control it?
He waited until his body calmed down before standing up and going inside the saloon. By force of habit, his eyes scanned the room in search of distraction. He found it. In a corner of the room sat that infamous cheater Chris had inexplicably defended earlier.
"Good mornin'?" he said with his best fake smile, flashing his equally fake gold tooth.
The man studied him a moment then his face split into a wide grin of delight.
"I remember you. Powerful sad 'bout that run o' luck you had the other day."
Slade clearly wasn't the least bit sorry and Ezra felt he made the poorest possible showing of it.
"Indeed. Well, I feel my luck is in for a change."
"Oh?" Slade appeared only mildly interested which was good, because Ezra enjoyed a challenge.
"Why, yes sir. Did you see that moon last night?"
"Well, no, I--"
"It was a crescent moon, nothing more than a mere eighth of it's normal size!"
"And that's lucky, is it?"
Ezra pretended to look shocked. "It is when it's in the 7th House of Maudeum."
Slade shook his head. "Maudeum? Never heard of it. That's a lucky star?"
"It follows a rather indeterminate trajectory." At Slades's suspicious look, Ezra continued quickly. "I'd like a chance to win back my money from the other day."
Slade hesitated. Just then, his two friends, a Mexican and a man with a definite Texas drawl, dropped into chairs on either side of them.
"Pretty Boy here says 'e wants a chance to win back 'is money," grunted Slade.
The others looked at Slade and then Ezra. Ezra calmly pulled out a wad of bills. It was a trick he'd picked up in Chicago: wrapping a lot of smaller bills and blank paper with one larger bill to make it look like more money than it was. He was sure these buffoons were not sophisticated enough to see through such an old trick. They were too stupid and too greedy. His kind of folks, he thought.
The Texan licked his lips. "Why not? You was really lucky before, Slade."
"Si, muy afortunado," agreed the Mexican.
Slade rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his eyes gleaming as he looked at the rolled up wad of cash in Ezra's hands.
"All right�Deal."

Chris sat outside the jail, taking a long, slow draw on his cheroot. He held it in his lungs a moment, savoring it, before letting the smoke out in a slow, thin stream. The world looked different.
Now he wondered.
As he watched people - men - walking up and down the street, he wondered how many of them would want to have sex with a man. Would want sex with him. He wondered how many men he'd been with and how many times. Wickes had kept him drugged, so there was no way to know for sure.
And now he wondered what he was going to do about Vin.
And then there was Ezra.
His stomach knotted at what Ezra had told him. As a sex slave, Chris had been forced to sell his body for Wickes' gain. At least that's what he'd told himself. Nothing seemed real anymore. He was a widower, for God's sake. A man who liked woman. A man who'd loved a woman. And he'd willingly offered himself to Vin. And to Ezra, now, it seemed.
You never let a man touch you like that.
How could he be a victim when he was sharing his body with other men like that? Vin would tell him it was because Chris didn't want to with those other men, and that wanting to made all the difference.
You can't rape a whore.
But that didn't explain what happened with Ezra or Ezra's feelings for him. He took another drag on his cheroot. Had he done or said something to Ezra to make him think that they could�? No, he was sure he couldn't have.
He knew Ezra was avoiding him, and he was grateful for it. He didn't know what to say or how to react to Ezra right now. In fact, he just didn't want to deal with it at all.

Vin sat at the edge of a bluff, looking out over the vast expanse of unsettled land. He'd rode as far out of town as he could get. If he'd stayed, well, he didn't know what he'd have done.
Damn that Ezra! No one, not even Chris, had known what had happened in Hobson's Choice. Ezra was only supposed to make sure Chris was in the building before they went in to get him. Ezra had done that, but he hadn't said a word about anything else happening in there.
Vin grew angry every time he thought about what Ezra might have been able to do. And while that made him angry, what troubled him was that he wasn't sure who to be angry at. He pulled at some weeds beside his boot.
He started to chew on one but immediately threw it away. He scooped up a handful of small stones and began to throw them, one at a time, out into the ravine below.
Ezra wanted Chris.
How much Vin couldn't be sure, but it was enough for Ezra to tell Chris right in front of him. He couldn't imagine Chris wanting Ezra the same way, but what if he did?
Vin had never been with a man before Chris. He had never even thought about such a thing. But after Hobson's Choice, things had changed. At first he was reluctant, but Chris's warm body and gentle touch had been too good to refuse. Knowing Chris wanted and cared about him was all he had needed to feel complete with him.
When Chris found a woman he fancied, Vin would be happy to step aside. But he didn't want to step aside for another man and he sure as hell didn't want that other man to be Ezra. Or anyone else, for that matter.
Vin pulled out his harmonica and blew into it thoughtfully. If he tried to lay claim to Chris, he might just succeed in pushing him closer to Ezra anyway.
He put his harmonica into his jeans pocket. As he drew his hand out, he could feel hardening flesh near his hand. He sighed. His mind drifted to the warm body he wanted to touch but couldn't right now. Maybe not for a long time.
He dug his hand into his pants, fingers fumbling against his fly. A muttered curse and he was free, throbbing against the light breeze. He leaned back and closed his eyes, remembering the familiar velvet heat that drew him into the lean, muscular body. If he used his imagination, the gentle breeze became the soft sigh of desire from the man he loved most in all the world.
His fingers swirled a single tear of moisture around the shiny purple tip. Instinctively, his firm grip began to slide along the silky column in an ever-increasing rhythm that kept pace with his heartbeat. At last he gasped, then as his body was overwhelmed with his release, he cried out Chris's name as he exploded onto the ground in one, two, three, four thick spurts of creamy fluid.
Chris's name continued to echo from the rockface as Vin's breathing returned to normal. Even as he rearranged himself, he could still hear it echoing inside his head. That echo took much longer to fade.

Slade sipped his beer. A slow grin spread across his face as he laid down his cards.
"Full house." Slade began to laugh as Ezra's face fell. "Bet yer feelin' mighty sorry now, eh?"
"Oh, sir, indeed I am." Ezra shook his head sadly. But not sorry for me...Sorry for you." He put down his cards. "Four...lovely...ladies..."
It was the same trick he'd once used to win a diamond brooch of a self-proclaimed 'doctor' in Red Fork. But Slade wasn't even a challenge. He seemed to know only a few ways of cheating and he wasn't even passable at most of them. If Ezra hadn't been trying to play an honest game the last time, he wouldn't have to win his money back now.
Slade frowned. Ezra couldn't resist savoring the moment a little with this vermin. He picked up each card in turn and smiled as if reminiscing. "This one is Sadie...And this one is Annabelle...And my oldest and dearest friend, Shirley...and this one here--"
"I get it!"
Ezra calmly scooped up the money. "I've let you play with a marker. When I can expect payment?"
"Later," Slade grumbled. He looked at his companions. "Gotta make a withdrawal at the bank."
"Good." Ezra smiled. "Then I'll expect to see you gentlemen later today. Right now I think I'll spend some of my money on some lunch." He started to go. "And gentlemen? I wouldn't leave without paying if I was you. I don't know if you heard but there's seven lawmen in this town and we don't take kindly to..." he arched an eyebrow. "Deadbeats?"

Outside, the Texan was nervous.
"Where you gonna get that kind of money, Slade? He'll come after ya. After us."
"Siete lawmen," whistled the Mexican. "This town has a whole posse in charge!"
Slade's eyes scanned the street. "Now boys, you forget. We got us a friend in this town." He nodded in the direction of a few yards down the other side of the street. The three men watched as Chris, unaware of them, walked down the sidewalk to the hotel.
Slade spotted a young boy walking past, a bag of marbles in his hand. "Hey, boy! C'mere!" He pointed down the street. "You know who that is?"
"Sure! That's Chris Larabee."
"You give him a note, you hear? I'll give you a penny to do it." He elbowed the Texan. "Give the brat a penny."
The Texan fumbled in his pocket as Slade pulled out a stub of pencil and a wrinkled, greasy scrap of paper.
"Now you take this to 'im right now. Tell 'im it's an invitation to a party."
The boy started off.
"And kid! Tell 'im it's a PRIVATE party!"

Vin sat out front of the jail, his head slightly bowed. To the casual observer, he was asleep, which was just wanted he wanted folks to believe.
His eyes scanned the street, back and forth. His senses felt more highly-tuned than usual. He was keenly aware of Chris's presence by the hotel, and of Ezra's in front of the saloon.
Ezra. What was he waiting for? Or rather, who? Chris? Chris hadn't said he wanted Ezra. Maybe the gambler was waiting for him to change his mind. Vin felt a muscle in his jaw tighten.
He watched as a little boy ran up to Chris and handed him a note. Chris read the note, nodded his thanks, and started down to the other end of the street. Vin watched him until he disappeared around a corner.
He couldn't deny a twinge of satisfaction. If Ezra was waiting for Chris, he was going to be disappointed a while longer.

Ezra was bored. Somehow fleecing those three malcontents just wasn't enough to brighten his day.
He knew what would.
Chris.
Damn it, but he wanted Chris Larabee. He wanted to get him out of those tight-fitting pants that left nothing to the imagination and take him right there on his feather bed. Ezra sighed wistfully. He closed his eyes and let his mind play out the scene for him.
Chris on the bed on his stomach, the bare, suntanned skin dotted with pale, golden hair and a few freckles. He imagined stroking his hands over the lean-muscled flesh, feeling each tightly corded muscle packed below the taut, hot surface. His hands would smooth over the hard twin globes of Chris's perfect ass. He imagined using a wet fingertip to tickle the shadowy furrow there, making Chris Larabee squirm with anticipation. He would lay against the length of Chris's body till his own warm breath stirred the silky blond hair just behind Chris's ear.
And Chris would feel the moist hardness of Ezra's passion producing a delicious friction where Ezra's finger had been. He pictured Chris, moaning deep within his throat, bucking back against him, urging him on.
And Ezra would hold back, hold back as long as he could until Chris Larabee whimpered his desire, his need for a completion that only Ezra could provide.
Finally, he would press himself home, surrounded by tropic heat as Chris sighed in painful bliss. The velvet grasp of Chris's body would draw him in until his own maddening desire would compel him to thrust.
In an ever increasing rhythm, Ezra would piston his own throbbing column in and out of Chris's body, until their cries of ecstasy mingled as one.
They would share a single, shattering orgasm that threatened to drain their bodies dry. And then, more relaxed then they had ever been in their lives, they'd fall asleep in each other's arms.
Ezra cursed softly. He felt a warm stickiness in his drawers. He was going to have to change before those men arrived with his money.

Vin sat on the church steps. The sun was lower in the sky and he hadn't seen Chris all afternoon. He wasn't in his room. Most likely he'd ridden out to his shack. JD had said that was what he thought he'd heard, anyway. Vin had seen Ezra walking stiffly toward his room, but he didn't look too happy.
"Somethin' you want, Vin?"
Vin squinted up at Josiah. He turned away, shaking his head.
Josiah sat down beside him and squinted at the setting sun.
"The ancient Greeks used to believe that the world traveled on the back of a turtle. Or maybe it was the Romans." He smiled. "I forget."
Vin forced a small smile. Josiah looked at him in concern.
"What's botherin' you, son?" Vin opened his mouth to protest, but Josiah held up his hand. "Ain't none o' you boys what anyone would call church-goin', so you might as well tell me."
Vin shoved his hands deep in his pockets and stared unseeingly into space.
"Chris?" Josiah ventured.
"That plain, huh?"
Josiah nodded.
"Well, it ain't all Chris." Vin took a deep breath. "It's Ezra."
"Oh. Ezra...say somethin' to ya?"
Vin looked at him in surprise and jumped to his feet. "You know, don't you? Ezra told you, didn't he!"
Josiah caught him by the coat and pulled him back down. "Now just simmer down."
Vin sat abruptly, his chin on his knees, fists clenched.
"I'm not losing him to Ezra," he said to no one in particular.
"Ezra change his mind 'bout Chris?"
Vin looked at him sharply. "He told Chris he wanted him. Coulda had 'im, too."
"Drunk or sober?"
"Drunk," he admitted.
"Well, there you go, then. A man says a lot of fanciful things when he's drunk."
"I don't."
Josiah smiled. "You never told an ugly woman she was beautiful when you was drunk?"
Vin smiled sheepishly. "Once or twice, maybe."
"Well, then, just forget what Ezra said."
"But--"
Josiah held up his hand. "The better man knows how to forgive."
And I'm the better man, Vin thought. I just hope Chris thinks so.

As Vin left the church, he passed Buck in a more jovial mood than usual with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. The faint smell of whiskey was enough to tell him the bottle had already been opened.
"Evenin', Vin! Join me an' Josiah? Thought we'd have a private party of good whiskey and dirty stories! Heard some really good ones from that travelin' salesman..."
Vin smiled. "Nah, don't think so, Buck. Thanks, anyway."
"Yer loss," he shrugged. "Josiah!" Buck waved to the ex-preacher on the steps. "Have you heard the one about the dance hall girl who--"
Vin had stopped listening. At that moment, he spotted Ezra down the street. A few small fires had been started to light the street as night fell. Vin could clearly see him look at a piece of paper before folding it up and putting it in his pocket.
His jaw clenched slightly as he saw Ezra ride out - in the direction of Chris's.
He reached his horse in several quick strides, threw himself into the saddle and took off after Ezra.
"Ain't that a scream?" Buck was saying. "I made 'im tell me twice! He told me another one. Seems there's this schoolmarm--"
"Hold up there, Buck," he said grimly.
Josiah had seen Vin leaving town, and had seen who he was following. Buck stilled, noticing the serious look in Josiah's blue eyes.
"Listen, you get JD and Nathan, and meet me at Chris's place."
Buck was instantly sober. "Any special reason?"
"I hope not."

It was dark when Ezra reached Chris's place. He could hear the soft nicker of horses nearby. It wouldn't be unusual since Chris had recently acquired two of them. But he already knew Chris had company.
Pick up yore paymunt at Larabee shak, the note said. And kome alon.
Ezra checked the fittings of the gun under his sleeve before approaching the small building. From where he stood in the darkness, he could see a single lamp blazing behind the window curtain.
Cautiously, he opened the door and stepped inside. In that moment, he was sure his heart had come to a full stop and his blood froze in his veins.
"Evenin', friend!"
Ezra barely heard him. He was staring at the bed. Chris lay there on his back, completely naked. His wrists and ankles had been tied to the four corners of the bed. A gag had been tied tightly around his mouth and his eyes were blindfolded. Ezra also noted the bruises on Chris's face and dark streaks around Chris's wrists and ankles that looked like blood.
"What's this?" he demanded.
"Yer payment."
Ezra swallowed an impossibly large lump in his throat as he tried to find his voice. "The agreement was for cash," he said, through clenched teeth.
"Oh, friend, this is better!"
Eyes like green fire skeptically appraised Slade. "I'll assume it just didn't occur to you that my preference is for women."
"Us, too," the Texan agreed hastily.
Slade was undeterred. "I know. You think he's some kinda lawman. But trust me, when we met up with him, he was sellin' 'is favors like a woman."
"And you naturally availed yourself of his...favors?"
"Friend, don't you know who that is? That's Chris Larabee, the famous gunfighter. Or was. Now he's just a whore pretendin' t' be a lawman. He's got this whole town bamboozled. But not us, right, boys?"
"Si," added the Mexican, with a big grin.
Ezra felt a shiver through his whole body. Chris was being offered to him.
"So...you're suggesting I accept a rape in lieu of cash?"
Slade snorted. "Rape? She-oot, you can't rape no whore." He licked his lips. "He'll surprise you. He's got the sweetest, tightest little ass you've ever had."
"Better than any senorita," the Mexican agreed.
"And you three would know?"
"Lotsa times," nodded the Texan. "He's still as hot and tight as when we met 'im."
So they had raped him. And recently, too. They had to have.
Ezra gaped at the man on the bed. Chris was being offered to him. He lay there, on his back, helpless: unable to speak, move or see.
Chris was aware of Ezra's presence. He had heard the soft cadence of his voice. What was Ezra doing here? His body tensed as he remembered Ezra's confession. What would he do? Would he accept the 'payment' that was being offered? And afterwards...what? He waited. There was nothing else he could do.
Ezra's eyes traveled the length of the naked body before him, pausing only momentarily at Chris Larabee's groin. He noted the thick shaft, soft and exposed, as it rested on the fat pad of his scrotum. He wondered now it would feel to cause that length to fill, to expand with pulsing desire. He pictured its single eye, wet with one dewy tear, as Ezra plunged into the heated depths of his body, his own shaft tightly massaged with each thrust. And he wondered, too, what Chris's cries of pleasure sounded like. Only Chris couldn't cry out. He was gagged.
Blindfolded. Tied so that he was forced to participate. Helpless. Ezra had never seen him so helpless. And Ezra did not want to take him this way.
Not this way.
"I can't spend a fuck," Ezra said, deliberately crude. "Whatever you call it, I prefer the cash. Now unless you have any other payment terms you'd care to discuss..."
"All righty." Slade pulled out his gun and pressed the barrel against Chris's temple.
"Now...now just a minute. That's no reason to kill a man--"
"Well, hell, if you don't wan' 'im--Me an' the boys is through with 'im." He stroked the barrel along the side of Chris's face. "We done wore him out," he said mockingly.
Chris listened intently as they discussed him, Ezra's confession still echoing inside his skull. Now he was being offered to a man who had already told him that he wanted to have sex with him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
They had ambushed him several yards from his home. He had fought them off but a few well-placed kicks to the head had tipped the balance of the fight in their favor. Just like the last time they had raped him, they had stripped him of his clothes. When the painful fog surrounding his brain had finally lifted, he had found himself in a position so very helpless that, for the first time in a long time, Chris Larabee was frightened.
He felt the cold steel of Slade's gun dig into his temple, and he knew that Slade wasn't going to give in. Either Ezra was going to rape him or Slade was going to kill him. Or maybe both of them.
Once more, he pulled futilely against the tight ropes. His wrists and ankles felt slippery with a warm, sticky wetness.
"Let's not be hasty, gentlemen." Ezra glanced around him, trying to hang on to a composure he no longer felt. "I appreciate the gesture. And I can see that he likely has charms undreamt of....If this is all you have to offer, then...But I'm not one to engage in sexual relations before an audience...No matter how...charming."
"That's too bad." Slade cocked the gun's hammer.
Ezra slowly removed his gunbelt. He dropped it gently to the floor and began to unbutton the fly of his trousers, trying to stall for time. He was hoping to come up with a plan, but his thoughts continuously clashed with his desires.
At last he stood there, naked from the waist down and feeling slightly silly as cool air surrounded his exposed skin. With a shock, he realized how Chris must have felt at Wickes'. How Chris must feel now, naked and compelled to do something he didn't want to do.
It was a Hobson's choice, all right, he thought grimly. A choice that was really no choice at all. Whatever course he took, it would change them both forever.
He bent low, tracing a finger along Chris's jaw, seeing the chest muscles tighten as a breath caught in Chris's throat. Ezra's own throat felt dry as he scanned his friend for some sign of what he should do. With his mouth by Chris's ear, he whispered, "Is sex with me better or worse than death?"
Ezra moved his hand down Chris's body, exploring it like one who was purchasing a fine quarterhorse. His hand gently moved over Chris's flank, and then slipped underneath him. For a moment, Ezra forgot anyone else was there, as his hand found the heated rosebud that formed the entrance to Chris's body.
Frowning, he withdrew his hand. He looked at his fingertip. "Why is he bleeding?"
"We was just preparin' 'im for ya."
"I see," Ezra said acidly. "I'll need lube."
"Use spit."
"That's fine for you, perhaps. I'm accustomed to enjoying my sexual forays. You'll find a tin of the finest lubricant in my saddlebag." Ezra smiled coldly. "I like to...come...prepared."
Slade grinned wolfishly. "Fetch it," he said to the Texan.
The Texan licked his lips, hesitating only a moment before hastening outside. A few moments later there was a shout.
"Can't find it!"
Slade glowered with disgust. "Help him."
The Mexican nodded and left the shack.
Ezra was keenly aware of Slade's eyes on him. He gently cupped Chris's balls, feeling their firm weight against his palm. They tightened in their sac, or maybe it was just his imagination.
"You should try his mouth," Slade said helpfully. "Damned hot, an' with a little encouragement, he can do a damn fine job."
Ezra's eyes involuntarily glanced at Chris's lips, drawn tight around the gag. They looked unusually red and swollen.
"What's keepin' 'im with that lube," muttered Slade just as the door opened and the Texan walked in. "'Bout time," he grumbled, turning his attention back to Chris. "Where's that Mex--" he began, without looking over his shoulder.
The Texan's head snapped up and a gun swiftly appeared.
"He won't be joinin' the party," said Vin.
Ezra nearly swooned with relief. Slade quickly leveled his gun, but not fast enough. Two simultaneous shots slammed him back against the wall. His eyes went glassy, his mouth in an O, as he fell over Chris. Ezra pushed his derringer back into his sleeve as Vin holstered his own weapon.
Chris heard the shots and felt the weight of a body fall against him. Ezra! Vin! They must've killed them both and now one of that scum was going to rape him again! Chris began to thrash for all he was worth. Then hands were on his body and familiar voices were yelling at him. He felt searing pain as one wrist dislocated in his battle to get free.
"Chris! Chris! Stop it! Yer gonna hurt yerself!"
Then the weight was removed and he felt the bed sag. Then one wrist felt free. At the same time he became able to move his ankles. He tugged at the blindfold, then shut his eyes tightly against the light. His shaking fingers clawed at the knotted cloth covering his mouth, but his wrist throbbed in pain. He slowly opened his eyes to see Ezra reach behind him, nimble fingers undoing the gag.
"Lemme look at that wrist, Chris," said Nathan.
Now he saw they were all there. All his friends. He turned to see Slade, dead in a heap on the floor.
"Where's the others," he croaked.
Josiah's voice was calm and even. "They had a run-in with a couple o' knives. You'll be pleased to know Nathan ain't lost 'is touch."
"They're all dead?"
Buck nodded. "That's what ya do with vermin."
Vin picked up a blanket to cover Chris while Ezra stood in the corner, pulling his pants back on.
"As usual, Mr. Tanner, your timing is impeccable."
"Later, Ezra," he said, helping to brace Chris as Nathan wrestled his wrist back into place.
"While Nathan looks after you, we'll clean up, Chris," said JD.
Chris said nothing. Emotion had stolen his voice, so he merely watched quietly as Nathan checked the swelling, then bandaged his wrist carefully.
"Keep it like that till the swelling goes down at least."
Josiah was studying Ezra's face. "You all right?" he asked softly.
"Of course I'm all right. Isn't every man given a choice of raping his friend or killing him?"
Vin walked up, overhearing Josiah. "Yeah, Ezra, what would you have done if I hadn't come in?"
Ezra was staring blindly at Chris, as Nathan helped him ease his bruised and aching body into bed.
"I never want to know, Mr. Tanner," he said in a hoarse whisper. "I never want to know."
It was nearly two full days later when Ezra saw Vin on the street.
"You're in town? Where's Chris?"
"Buck is with 'im." In answer to Ezra's unspoken question, he continued, "He's comin' along. He still don't like to let anyone come near him, even me, but he's still not real comfortable with bein' alone."
"Maybe in his own good time."
"Maybe," Vin agreed doubtfully.
"Of course, it's...understandable, given the circumstances." Ezra paused as Vin turned to go. "Vin...I...I was planning on calling on him later...if that's all right."
Vin looked at him appraisingly. "I think he'd like that," he said at last.
The next day, Ezra rode up to Chris's shack. He hadn't been near the place since that horrific night. It looked so peaceful in the full light of day.
Vin came outside as Ezra reined in his horse.
"How is he?"
"Asleep."
"At this hour?"
Vin shrugged. "He don't sleep much, so when he manages it, I hate to wake 'im."
"Is he any better?"
Vin shook his head. "Still beatin' himself up over it. Just keeps sayin' he wasn't raped because--"
"You can't rape a whore," Ezra finished for him.
The sharpshooter nodded in agreement. "He'll get better once he figgers out he was a victim and that what happened to him in Hobson's Choice wasn't his fault." He sighed tiredly. "I'd best get back inside. I can't leave 'im alone for too long."
"Why? You said he was asleep."
The quiet was suddenly broken by loud screams from inside the shack.
"That's why!" Vin cried over his shoulder as he hurried inside with Ezra right behind.
Chris was huddled in a corner, naked, trembling, cringing in terror from invisible demons.
"It's just a nightmare," Vin soothed, firmly taking Chris's arm. It was obvious he'd done this several times before. "No one's going to hurt you."
He led Chris to the bed, helping him get settled once again. Chris curled up under the heavy quilt. At last he seemed aware of Ezra's presence.
Green eyes locked with green eyes.
Several moments passed as Chris stared at him with open curiosity. He appeared to be searching for something deep in the gambler's eyes. Ezra held his stare unflinchingly. For once, he hoped that everything he was feeling was plain to see there.
Then, in a barely audible voice, Chris said quietly "They raped me."
"What?" asked Vin.
Chris repeated himself, louder this time, "They raped me."
Ezra's voice was calm. "I think he's referring to those three vermin from the other day. Apparently, they've violated him before. From what I could discern, it's been more than once. And it's been recently."
Unconsciously, Vin's hands clenched and unclenched. It explained a lot of things lately. And it told them something else, something more important.
Vin and Ezra exchanged looks as the realization hit them both at the same time. Chris was just beginning to realize and to accept that he'd been a victim after all.
Chris looked up at Vin. "They raped me." His voice broke and he turned his face to the pillow, as if to hide from them, from himself, from everything. From the pain.
Vin knelt beside the bed, he held Chris in his arms, long brown hair mingling with tousled blond.
"I know," Vin whispered. "It's all right...They're never gonna hurt you again..."
Ezra watched, transfixed. He could see the intense bond of trust, love and security the two men shared.
Seeing Chris helpless this last time had carried him right back to that day at Wickes' brothel as if it were happening in the here and now. And it had changed his feelings about his desire for Chris.
He wondered now how it had even been possible that he ever have wanted Chris Larabee for himself. Or that Chris would've wanted him when Vin offered so much of what he wanted and needed. Now looking at these two men, Ezra realized that what he was really jealous of and what he really wanted was to experience the depth of feeling these two shared for each other.
His day would come. But it would not include Chris. For the first time since that awful day in Hobson's Choice, Ezra felt free.
Vin brushed his lips gently against Chris's forehead. They seemed to have completely forgotten Ezra was there. He quietly left the shack unnoticed and rode back to town.
"You're still trembling," Vin noted. "Cold? The quilt's all you got. Best I can offer ya is body heat."
Chris said nothing, but there was an obvious warmth in his eyes. Vin stood and slowly undressed. When he was finally as naked as Chris, he walked to the other side of the bed and slipped underneath the quilt with him.
"I want to make you feel better, Chris," Vin said in a soft whisper. He reached out his hand and gently traced the line of Chris's jaw, his fingertips brushing the light stubble there.
"I want to take away the nightmares."
His hand moved slowly to Chris's chest, his palm lightly cupping one pec. He stroked his thumb across Chris's nipple, aware of its sudden diamond hardness.
"What else do you want?" Chris asked hoarsely.
"I want to replace the bad memories with good ones."
There was a long silence while Chris thought this over.
"I want that, too."
"Then let me try."
Vin moved slowly lower. Chris pushed back the quilt, eyes glittering with new interest.
Chris could feel Vin's warm breath, punctuated by a trail of moist, hot kisses against his skin. Vin hesitated over his stomach. Suddenly he dropped his head, blowing a raspberry against the taut smooth abdomen.
"S-stop!" Chris gasped, giggling in spite of himself.
Vin smiled impishly and then traced the tip of his tongue around his navel. Chris's swollen shaft lay against his belly, a clear drop of fluid weeped slightly from the tip. Vin ignored the pink, throbbing column of flesh to brush his tongue against the wrinkled pouch between Chris's lean thighs. He took each orb into his mouth, one at a time.
Chris gasped, his fingers entwined in Vin's hair as his hands sought something to grasp, something to keep him from floating away on a tidal wave of pure ecstasy.
Everything else faded away from him. There was nothing but here and now and Vin, and nothing and no one else mattered at all.
Chris felt Vin's mouth release his balls. Warm puffs of air stirred the fine blond hairs on his scrotum. A moan formed deep in his throat.
Suddenly the hot, wet cavern of Vin's mouth enveloped his length. Chris released Vin's hair, his fists now bunching the bedclothes instead. His back arched and he gasped, his voice urgent.
"Vin! I'm so close...! I can't...I can't hold back!"
Immediately Vin released him. Chris groaned in an agony of frustration. His balls ached and throbbed with need. He craved release more than ever, even as he struggled to regain control of his body. Yet he didn't think he was ready to let Vin take him again as he had so many times before. After all that had happened, he wasn't sure if he would ever be ready.
As if reading his thoughts, Vin whispered "I want you to take me."
"You what?" Chris was sure he had heard wrong.
"I want you to do to me what I've done to you."
"No," he replied emphatically. "I might hurt you. And you wouldn't like it."
Vin nuzzled his ear. "Did I ever hurt you when you let me take you?"
"No. Never."
Chris felt Vin's soft, warm lips brush against his. "I want to know, Chris. I want to know it feels like for you when you make love to me."
Still, he hesitated. He never wanted to hurt Vin the way he himself had been hurt.
Vin reached over Chris for his clothes. Chris's brain filled with the scent of him. The warm, musky scent of maleness and sweat and leather was comfortingly familiar.
Vin searched his pockets. At last he found the tin of lube he was searching for.
"Let me put it on you," Vin pleaded gently.
Chris lay back and closed his eyes as Vin's agile hands stroked the length of his penis. He felt harder than he'd ever been in his life and Vin's movements brought him close to the edge. Vin stopped just in time.
"Now you put some on me," he told Chris.
Chris's mouth felt dry as Vin presented the smooth, round twin globes. He sat up and dipped two fingers into the tin.
Slowly, gently, he stroked the lubricant thoroughly into the hot crevice. He pressed his two fingers against the tight, puckered opening. Vin moaned softly. Chris could feel Vin's body shiver from his touch.
The anticipation was becoming unbearable. Chris's balls throbbed with a dull ache as Vin repositioned himself with renewed urgency, his own need apparent by the long silver strand of moisture oozing from the tip of his penis.
Vin knelt on either side of Chris's body and helped Chris position himself. He began to press against the wet, shiny plum-head of Chris's shaft. Chris watched anxiously as Vin's expression alternated between pain and pleasure.
Chris felt himself ease past the rubbery ring of muscle and into Vin's body.
Vin opened his eyes briefly. His left hand reached out, fumbled, grasped Chris's fingers. He continued to hold on as he slowly lowered himself still further. A low whistle hissed between his teeth as Chris's hardness filled him.
Chris bit his lip.
Oh, God!
Vin's channel closed around him, the moist, velvet grip pulling him in deeper. He wanted to shout, he wanted to sob, he wanted to COME. Silently, he prayed Vin wouldn't move. He was so close now and he didn't want it to end too soon.
"How--how do you feel?"
Vin grit his teeth as his body slowly accommodated this long, thick invasion. "I don't know yet," he said truthfully.
Chris flexed his hips, bumping himself against Vin's pleasure spot - the one he knew existed in Vin because Vin had found his own so many times.
Vin's eyes flew wide. "Jeezus! What was that?"
Chris did it again, and Vin began to moan loudly.
"Is this what I do to you?" he gasped.
"And so much more," Chris gritted.
He couldn't stand it anymore. If he didn't thrust now, he'd spill his seed before they could both find satisfaction. Carefully, steadily, he began to increase his rhythm. His hands groped blindly for Vin's penis and he began to stroke it in earnest, in time with his thrusts. Vin's head was thrown back, his eyes closed, expressing his pleasure in inarticulate cries and moans.
At last the two men cried out, a long, deep howl of primal, physical release. Vin's pearly fluid spurted in heavy droplets onto Chris's torso, while his own essence bathed Vin's insides.
Vin fell against him and together they lay there, slippery with a light film of sweat as they both waited for hearts and lungs to recover. Chris instinctively wrapped his arms around the solid compact body that pressed against him. Vin's mouth captured his in a long, deep kiss that Chris could feel down to his toes.
"I love you, Chris," Vin whispered.
Chris's voice was charged with raw emotion. "I love you, too, Vin."
"I want to replace the bad memories with good ones," Vin repeated softly.
Chris smiled. He felt a light-heartedness he hadn't felt in a long time.
"It's a start."
THE END
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Choices and Secrets