ALL  IS  GRAY by C.V. Puerro

Josiah had returned to the clinic far too soon for his own good, at least in Ezra's opinion, but there was no convincing the man he'd get better rest over at the church. And so, Ezra now found himself in the saloon, his back to the wall, a bottle of scotch near at hand. Drinking yet another meal.

"Señor, are you sure I cannot get you anything?" Inez asked as she came over to his table.

"What I have is quite sufficient, thank you," he said raising his shot glass as if in a toast. "Though, check with me later, I may require some bourbon."

Instead of leaving, as she had the last two times she'd checked on him, Inez pulled out the chair opposite and sat down. "I worry for you, señor," she said after a few moments of silence which he filled with drinking. "You do not eat well, you drink far too much—"

"My habits," he said quietly through clenched teeth, "are my own, Señorita Recillos."

"I only meant that you will make yourself sick and then—"

"And then I will be of no use to anyone? I assure you, that is already the case."

"Do not say so, señor. You are of use to us all, especially now that your friend is hurt and in need."

"My friend is hurt precisely because I was not here to help him." Ezra downed a mouthful of golden liquid, and then scoffed at the joke that was his life. "Do you know that only yesterday I was saying to myself how much a part of this town I was beginning to feel? And not twelve hours later, I let down one of her best citizens while off on my own selfish errand...." Ezra took another drink, this time allowing the hard liquor to slowly burn down his throat and into his empty stomach.

"There are many citizens here who did nothing to help Señor Jackson, but you, as soon as you could, you came to his rescue. He would have died if you and the other had not shown up when you did."

"He still may, my dear. I was late in my assistance, late because I am an inconsiderate bastard; I suppose my mother would be pleased to hear me say that. All her years of training interspersed with those long periods of neglect ... yes, I suppose I did turn out the way she intended. People like her — like me — we're not supposed to make friends, settle down; it's bad for business, she never fails to remind me."

"My mama," Inez began, reaching out and placing her hand over Ezra's, preventing him from taking another drink. "She says, amigos are more valuable than gold, so you should choose them wisely."

"And hence I have none," Ezra mumbled, pulling his hand away from Inez and taking another drink. "It appears both our mothers are correct."

"No, señor, you misunderstand. You do have friends in the other men who help you protect this town and its people. And you have me — we are to still have dinner, yes? When Señor Jackson is well."

"Well? You have more faith in that than I."

"I will have faith enough for the both of us. You will see. Now, let me get you something to eat before you burn a hold in your gut with that scotch."

But as she began to stand, Ezra reached out and grabbed her hand, holding her in the chair. "May I ask you something? Why are you being to nice to me all of a sudden?"

"Must I have a reason, señor?" she asked, her dark eyebrows rising in innocent question.

"Yes, actually, you must. Or, at the very least, you could make one up to humor me."

Inez shrugged, looking almost embarrassed for a moment. "It's just, well.... I know that you gamble too much, you drink too much, and you sleep too much. You do not believe anyone thinks well of you, appreciates you. Even your mother berates you for staying here, as you say. But, I see a man who could have left and has not. I see a man who has risked his life to stand beside six other men, to protect a town he can have no more attachment to than any other. I have met many men in my time, señor, but I have never met one like you, not one who has stayed long enough for me to begin to know him."

Ezra's gaze fell to the table and he nodded. He didn't know what to think of what the woman had just told him. She obviously had no illusions about the kind of man he was and yet she was indicating she saw something to make her curious to learn more. Quite surprisingly, his life was becoming populated by truly amazing women.

"All right, Buck. I'm gonna go find Ezra and head out to the James ranch. I swear to you, this is the last time that man—" but Chris's words were cut off as the door to the jailhouse opened and Mr. James himself stepped in.

"Mr. Larabee. I'm glad you're here so that you can release my men," the rancher said, as if the whole thing had been an innocent misunderstanding instead of attempted murder.

"Your men aren't going anywhere." Chris's voice was low and calm, showing none of the emotion he'd let Buck see just a few moments before. "They're going to sit here in this jail until Judge Travis comes to try them. And I swear to you, if Nathan Jackson dies because of what they did to him, I'm personally gonna see each one swing in the middle of that street."

Chris was surprised when this provoked no reaction from the cattle baron. "Have it your way, Mr. Larabee," he said. "Cowboys are a dime a dozen and there are more where this lot came from."

Mr. James then turned to go, but Chris stopped him by stepping in front of the door. "Let me tell you something about your men, Mr. James. If I see a single one of them in this town again and he so much as misses the spittoon, I'm gonna haul his ass right in here. And, pretty soon, all those dime-a-dozen men of yours aren't going to be of any use to you. Mighty difficult, I hear, to run a cattle ranch with no hands."

Chris then stepped aside, finally seeing a fury building in the rancher's eyes.

"This is not over, Mr. Larabee."

"No, you're right about that," Buck said softly, smiling to Chris's surprise. "Hey Chris, how about we give Mr. James here one of his men back, show of good faith and all that?"

"I believe that's an excellent idea, Buck."

"That's more like it," Mr. James said, holding his head high as if he'd won the battle, bested the seven upstarts of this presumptuous town. He turned back to the cells and scanned the contents. "Who are you going to release?"

"Oh, he's not here," Buck said, in that calmly menacing voice Chris always forgot the usually jovial man possessed. "Try down the street at the undertakers." It was the horseman who had dragged Nathan through town so the others could shoot at him. Vin's gunshot had been both accurate and deadly.

Mr. James pursed his lips, glaring at his men who filled the two small jail cells. Then he turned and left, nearly shoving Ezra down onto the boardwalk as the gambler was coming inside.

"Did I, ah, miss something?" the gambler asked his two associates as he stepped into the office.

"Just Mr. James realizin' he still don't own this town," Buck said.

"Pity, I should have liked to have seen that." He stood there for a moment, suddenly looking just a tad bit uncomfortable as his eyes went from Buck to Chris and back again. "Yes, um, well," he turned to leave, but the piece of paper in his hand brought him up short. He handed it to Chris. "The physician from Cutter's Creek has wired that he is on his way. Should be here in a few hours if he makes haste."

"That's the doc that fixed up JD's busted knee, ain't it?" Buck asked.

"I hope he's just as good with bullet wounds," Chris said, looking up from the telegram. They all nodded in agreement.

It was well into the afternoon by the time JD came looking for Vin. Both had slept longer than they thought they would, and it bothered Vin that he'd slept so deep; he hadn't been disturbed by a single noise from the bustling town all day.

"Inez said she'd fix us somethin' to eat," the kid said as Vin rubbed the sleep from his still-tired eyes. "But I'm guessin' ya wanna check on Nathan first."

Vin just nodded. He hoped to hell Nathan was better and he hoped the fact that he hadn't been fetched during the day meant that the man hadn't gotten any worse — not that there would be anything he could do if that was the case. If that happened, Josiah would be the only one of any use to their healer.

He grabbed his hat as he climbed down out of the wagon and began to walk with JD up the street.

"Don't know how ya sleep in that thing with all that junk. Hardly seems like there's enough room to roll over," JD commented with a sidelong glance at the tracker who was keeping his distance from the kid.

"Reckon I don't do much rollin' when I sleep," he replied.

"Ha! I know that you do, when you've got the space," JD countered with a smirk, though he'd kept his voice low.

"Well, I s'pose that's 'cuz ya snore."

"I do not!"

"Yeah, ya do."

"Well, a lotta men snore. Buck snores. Bet Bat Masterson snores, too."

But before their argument could go any further, they met Chris just stepping out of the sheriff's office. Vin stared hard at the man, needing his strength right now, wishing he could simply go to him and be held, comforted.... He knew the man was as scared for Nathan's life as the rest of their friends, but, somehow, that emotion seemed only to make him stronger.

"You boys heading up to see Nathan?" Chris finally asked. Vin and JD both nodded. "The doc from Cutter's Creek — the one that fix you up, JD — he's with Nathan right now."

"When did he get here?" Vin asked, torn between shaking Chris for not having immediately come to get him and breaking into a run to find out if the doctor would be able to do anything for Nathan. Vin decided on the latter, and JD, with only a quick look at Chris, tore out after him.

Upstairs, Vin finally stopped, taking a deep breath before easing the door to the clinic open and stepping inside. Josiah was again at Nathan's side, holding his hand, looking deep in prayer. Ezra was sitting at the small table in the corner, looking like he was feeling quite useless. The doctor was inspecting the makeshift bandages Vin had created out of towels and strips of linen.

"Doc. How is he?" Vin asked in a hushed tone.

"Don't I know you?" the gray-haired man asked, peering at Vin over Nathan's still form.

"Yes, sir, ya saw a friend of mine up in Cutter's Creek—" Just then JD burst into the room, startling everyone.

The doctor looked hard at the kid, then nodded. "Knee injury, now I remember. Guess you're feeling better, eh, son?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you. But what about Nathan?" JD asked, coming right to the point.

"Ah, well, he's a lucky man. Scrapes, bruises, a few bumps. Those'll heal quick enough. But the bullet wounds...." Here the doctor trailed off and this worried Vin. He stepped closer to the bed.

"I did what I could, Doc. But, really, I just tried to stop the bleeding. I— I didn't know what else to do."

"You treated this man? Did you get the bullets out?" the doctor asked and Vin nodded. The doctor glanced up at Vin for a moment, but then suddenly looked over at JD. "Son, would you go reserve me a room at the hotel? Nothing with a southern exposure."

"Yes, sir," JD answered, then ran from the room, closing the door a little more quietly than he'd previously opened it.

"You did a fine job," the doctor finally looked back at Vin, reassuring him. "But your friend's still unconscious and that's worrisome. Plus some of these wounds are still bleeding more than I'd like. He could take a turn, so I don't feel right in leaving until I'm sure."

This scared Vin even more. He knew bleeding that didn't stop was a bad thing, knew that could kill a man eventually if not tended to, but he honestly had no idea what more could be done.

"Would you men mind leaving us?" the doctor continued, addressing both Ezra and Josiah. "I'm gonna need some room to work and I'm sure you aren't going to want to watch this."

"Come along, Mr. Sanchez," Ezra said to the large preacher, but, as before, Josiah just clung to Nathan and would not move. "Please, Josiah, let the doctor work. Vin will be here to watch over Nathan in your stead and am I sure they will call us the instant we can come back inside." Ezra looked up at Vin and the tracker nodded his promise.

Finally, between Vin and Ezra, they were able to get Josiah to his feet and out the door. "Let us retire to the church while we wait," Vin heard Ezra say as he closed the door, his heart suddenly still as he realized the doctor was expecting him to assist with whatever he planned to do.

"Doc, I got no trainin' in this sorta thing; I only know the little I picked up while livin' with the Indians. Can't see as I'm gonna be much help ta ya."

"Don't worry, ah ... Vin, is it? I'm going to do all the hard work. I just need you to hand me a few things and answer any questions I might have about what you did do. Just relax. You might even find this fascinating."

Vin took a deep breath. He was sure he would not find this at all fascinating; it was, after all, his friend lying before him. But, he steeled his nerves and set his mind to help in anyway he could.

On his way back from the hotel, JD stopped in at the jail to see how things were. As before, the prisoners were still grousing about the cramped conditions, but there wasn't anything to be done. There were only the two cells and there were so many of the damn bastards — they certainly weren't going to let any of them go just to make things more comfortable for the ones who remained!

Buck was sitting behind the desk and JD looked over at him, remembering the last time they'd met, in this very office. "Buck, can't we be friends again?" he asked quietly so that the prisoners would not overhear.

"JD, I...."

"I'm sorry, Buck. I'm just real sorry that ya saw what ya did. I was gonna tell ya, I just ... I didn't know how. Guess I was afraid you'd react exactly the way ya did."

"I'm the one oughta apologize. I just never in all my days woulda thought that you.... I mean, it's okay. It got me ponderin' on things that I'd thought best left unthought about and that was pretty hard for me, but I guess I'm gettin' used to the idea now."

JD smiled and held out his hand. The older man held out his and they shook, reaffirming their friendship, but suddenly Buck pulled JD toward the back room, as far as they could get from the jail cells.

"JD, I, ah ... I gotta ask ya somethin'. Don't hit me or nothin'. I don't mean any offense, but I'm just ... well, I'm just curious." Buck couldn't believe he was about to ask the kid this, but he had to know. It was the one thing that had plagued his mind night and day since he'd seen Vin and JD together, and now, just last night, Chris had indicated his desire for....

"What is it, Buck?"

"When I walked in on you and, ah, well, that night," he began, trying to be both delicate and discreet, just in case anyone near should have keen enough hearing to eavesdrop. "And you were, I mean, you had ... in your, um ... mouth...."

JD was frowning now, obviously wondering what in the hell Buck was getting at, so, finally, he just spit it out. "What's it taste like?"

"Huh? Taste like? You mean...." The kid frowned again. "Well, it's, ah, just skin, so, ah ... or, you mean after? That's, ah, kinda ... salty, I guess."

The kid was shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot and Buck wasn't fairing any better. He was sorry that he'd put the kid on the spot. Perhaps this was a better conversation to have one night out on the prairie after they were slightly drunk.

Still, he had to know. "But, you like it, doin' it?"

JD shrugged a little, then nodded. "It's, ah, fun, if ya do it right."

"Fun, huh? Hmm." Buck looked away, considering this. Chris'd been right. The kid wouldn't do anything he didn't want to do, anything he felt uncomfortable doing. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all.

"Buck, can I ask you something now?" the kid said after a few moments, and Buck nodded.

"Why'd you" — he dropped his voice very low now and Buck had to lean in to hear him — "kiss Vin?"

"Whoa, ah, well, I, ah...." Buck had no idea how to field this one, but finally just decided to be honest. "Guess I was curious. Seein' the two of you ... all that thinkin' I'd been doin'.... And, well, you're like a little brother to me, JD — the brother I never had — so there weren't no way in hell I was gonna ... well, risk messin' that up by approachin' you."

JD nodded like he understood what the man had been going through. "So, we're really friends again?"

Buck shook his head, no. "More than that." He smiled as the kid did and they shook hands again, clapping each other on the shoulder.

JD then took out the large knife he had tucked in his belt. He held it out to Buck who recognized it as Vin's hunting knife. He didn't know why JD had the thing, or what he intended to do with it, until JD placed the blade against his palm, slicing into it.

He handed the knife to Buck, who just stared for a moment at the thin line of blood welling up in the kid's palm. He took the knife then and made a similar slit across his own palm, wincing at the pain, but immediately forcing himself to tolerate it as JD had. The kid then held out his hand and Buck clasped it, mingling their blood.

"Brothers," they both agreed.

Buck pulled free the bandana from around his neck, and then wiped the blade on it before wrapping the material around his hand to stop the bleeding. As he handed the kid back the implement, he reminded him, "You best give that back to Vin — he's probably missin' it already."

The kid nodded, tucking the blade back into his belt, then finished winding a kerchief around his own palm. Buck then noticed that JD had taken the cloth from his pocket and had not used the bandanna around his neck, as Buck had. Buck squinted just a bit, for the first time realizing that the bandanna was a fairly new accessory to JD's normal attire. He also realized it looked a hell of a lot like one of Vin's bandannas.

Then again, bandannas did tend to all look the same.

The doctor wiped his bloody hands off on a towel, and then handed it to Vin before opening the door of Nathan's clinic. Chris was standing right outside, waiting for word.

"I'm gonna head over to the hotel to clean up, get settled," the doctor said, still facing into the clinic as he spoke to Vin. "I'll be back after that, but, if it looks like he's getting worse, you call me right away."

Vin just nodded, his mind too numb from all he'd seen in the last hour, assisting the physician.

"Doc?" Chris stopped the man before he could leave. "Is Nathan going to be all right?"

"I stopped the bleeding in his leg, that oughta help matters. We just have to wait now. Long as his fever doesn't spike he's got a real fair chance, but it's really too soon to tell. Too many things that can still go wrong. I want someone sitting with him every minute, just in case."

Chris nodded his understanding, then allowed the man to pass, to head down the stairs to the hotel, before he stepped inside the clinic. As he closed the door behind him, he stared over at Nathan who was so still. It was then that he noticed the pile of bloody towels on the floor next to the bed. He looked over at Vin who was just standing there, staring back at him.

Chris took a step closer. "The doc did what he could," he said.

But Vin just blinked at him. His mind was so full of the images from the last hour, all the things the doctor had done ... but mostly he thought about the blood — so much blood. He hoped he never saw another drop. And then there was Nathan, just lying there one moment, then sitting bolt upright the next, his face contorted by pain, his mouth wide as if to scream, but no sound came, as dumbstruck as Vin felt by the extent of his injuries.

There was no room in Vin's mind for anything but these thoughts, these images ... this horror.

Chris seemed to sense this and pulled him into a comforting hug, just holding him, swaying slightly from side to side, as he stroked his hair. Vin melted against him as he felt all the fear and anger finally falling away, like he was being pulled from quicksand by this man's strong embrace. He wanted to cry, to wail as he had when he'd been a child, when so much pain had heralded the death of his mother, but no tears would come.

Finally, he eased away from Chris, needing to know his own feet could support himself again. He hung his head though, still feeling defeated, his friend behind him, unconscious, closer to death than any good man should be.

"Vin," Chris began, his arms still encircling the tracker's waist. "It's gonna be okay. We'll get through this. We all will."

Vin looked up then and met Chris's eyes — there was such determination in them, as if the man could will Nathan into recovery, but there was also compassion and a tenderness Vin wasn't sure he'd ever seen before.

Chris reached up and brushed his thumb across Vin's cheek. "You got some blood on your—"

Vin's lips were instantly on Chris's, pleading, demanding. He needed the man's strength, his love, more than anything right now. He backed Chris up against the wall as his tongue delved deeply into the man's mouth, his hands on his body, desperately clinging to his arms, his waist, but he could barely feel the man beneath his touch, could scarcely taste him.

"Chris!" he moaned, his low voice trembling with a mixture of longing, regret, want, and fear. "Please ... I need you. I still want you." Vin began to tear at the man's shirt, pulling it loose from the waistband, fumbling with the buttons, but Chris's hands caught his wrists with an unbreakable grip.

"Stop. Vin, stop this, right now." His voice was stern, but not angry, as he glanced over Vin's shoulder at Nathan, still unconscious. "We can't do this—"

Vin's heart stopped beating when those words struck his ears. He stared at Chris, tears finally welling up in his eyes — disappointment, regret, rejection all staining his reddening features. But just as he felt he could not take in another breath, live another second beyond this moment, Chris pulled him back and kissed him again with such a depth of affection that Vin's head swam in confusion.

"We can't do this here," Chris finally said. "I still got a room over at the boarding house. Stay here until I send someone to relieve you, and then come over. Room four, opposite end of the hall from Buck and JD."

Vin just nodded as he watched Chris leave. He had no idea what had just happened. Not how, or why, or what in the hell was going to happen next, or how long it would last. He didn't even stop to think what it might mean to him and JD. He just staggered over to the chair and sat down, his hand unconsciously going to Nathan's, scooping it up and hugging it to him.

Finally, he looked down at the wounded man, his dark skin the color of grayish soot. Eventually, Vin started breathing again, his heart less insistent on breaking free of his chest.

He brushed his fingers over the man's sweaty brow. "How do ya do it, Nathan? How do ya keep watchin' us all bleed, patchin' us up, just so we can go out and get hurt all over again?" How can you stand all of the blood — the smell, the color — everywhere, on your hands, your clothes? How can you keep caring about us, instead of thinking of us as torn up pieces of meat, like that doctor does?

His thoughts just kept running, though his mouth had quickly grown tired of trying to keep up.

"It's so much easier when ya only have ta care 'bout yerself. Soon as ya start ta care 'bout others, ya start needin' 'em. And then they start dyin' on ya."

"No one is gonna die, son," Josiah said from the doorway. "The Lord knows he's got no need for Nathan and he knows that we do." Josiah came around to the other side of the bed and kneeled next to it. He took Nathan's hand in his, bowed his head and began to pray. "Lord, care for our healer as he has so many times cared for us. Strengthen our faith as you give him strength to heal. We know you are here for us, Lord. We know that you are merciful and that your love is everlasting. We are thankful, Lord, for all that you have given us, for a town to protect, for our friends and companions, for allowing us to know love in these troubled time. Lord, our requests are simple and humble, please bless us and keep us and allow us to continue our work here. Amen."

"Amen," Vin echoed, having silently repeated every word the preacher had said.

"Go now, Vin. Get some rest. You deserve it."

Vin nodded his head, stood, and then crossed to the door. He opened it and was about to leave when he remembered his hat, which he'd placed out of the way on the small table. He reached back inside the clinic and accidentally overheard Josiah speaking into the stillness.

"Nathan, you are the strength and the light of the Lord made flesh and I have need of you. Please do not leave me. I love you, like no other—"

Vin eased open the door to room number four without bothering to knock. He assumed if it was unlocked, it was unlocked especially for him. As he slipped inside, he knew he'd been right. Chris was at the window, just pulling the shade down, though the room did not overlook the street, nor were there any buildings across the way.

Vin pressed the door closed and locked it, then immediately began to strip. He undid the buttons on his shirt until the fabric hung loose off his shoulders, then he slipped out of it and his suspenders at the same time before working the buttons loose on his pants.

Chris watched him, but did not move from the window. Next, Vin removed his boots, pants, and leggings. Then he just stood there, naked, waiting for Chris to say something, do something.

Anything.

Finally, Chris took a step toward Vin. This was all the encouragement the tracker needed. He was across the room and in Chris's arms in less than a heartbeat. He turned the man and pushed him up against the wall, tearing at the buttons on his shirt, but when they didn't come undone quickly enough, his fingers flew to the man's waist, undoing his belt, unbuttoning the fewer, slightly larger buttons on his pants.

Vin slipped his hands under the waistband then and pushed the material down, freeing Chris's long, hard cock. He immediately dropped to his knees and took the organ deeply into his mouth. He could feel Chris's hands in his hair, not guiding him, not forcing or encouraging him, but guarding him, as if he feared Vin might suddenly flee.

But he had no intention of doing that. His hands caressed the smooth skin of Chris's tight ass, squeezing the flesh as his tongue and mouth worked over his cock. A moment later, Chris's hands left his hair, but Vin kept going, kept on sucking, nuzzling, lapping at the man's shaft. Chris shirt dropped to the floor next to them, then his hands came to work the pants further down his legs.

Vin helped him as best he could without releasing him. He couldn't release him, he wouldn't. There was something about being this close to Chris, inhaling his musky scent, feeling those hands on his skin, his shoulders, in his hair. When had he come to rely on this man's strength as much as his friendship? When had he allowed himself to grow so dependent, or had he always been this way?

His shoulders began to shudder as these thoughts swept over him. The tears came welling into his eyes once more, but as he began to sink to the floor, Chris's arms held him up, encouraging him to stand.

Chris looked at him then, stared into his eyes with his own green-crystal orbs, not cold, but solid, like emeralds. And then Chris was kissing him, their tongues tangling together again, their lips brushing against each other. Vin's hands dug deep into Chris's arms as he held on, refusing to let go, as if doing so would drop him off some invisible cliff.

Vin moved his mouth to Chris's neck, to suckle on his earlobe, rain kisses along his jaw. "You want me?" he heard the man whisper in his ear. "Do you? Then take me!" he insisted, and Vin did as he was told, as if he'd only been waiting to hear those words.

With his crushing grip still on Chris's arms, he yanked the man toward the bed, and then looked frantically about for what he hoped Chris had brought — some sort of grease.

He found it on the nightstand, waiting, and he grabbed for it as Chris pulled off his boots and shed the last of his clothing. Vin slathered the cream over his aching cock, and then came to stand behind Chris, shoving the man facedown onto the bed. He ran two greased fingers up between his crack, then circled them briefly over his hole.

A moment later, he was pressing his firm cock against the man's small ass, pushing until his shaft slipped inside, then he waited, allowing Chris time to adjust, to accommodate his size.

"Get on with it!" Chris ordered, and the tracker did, pulling himself back, then pushing in, using only short strokes at first, but quickly driving deeper with each thrust, until his skin was slapping against Chris's each time.

His hands were on the gunslinger's hips, helping him to keep the furious rhythm: in, out, in harder, again. "Do it," Chris ordered through gritted teeth and Vin grunted in reply as he drove his cock home once more.

Vin pushed deeper and deeper, groaning ever louder until he was fighting back the screams, as Chris kept at him: "More! Harder! Do IT! HARDER!"

And he kept going, pulling Chris against him, pushing himself inside, gripping the man's hips, until suddenly a cramping pain erupted deep inside of him. His face contorted in a mixture of pleasure and pain as he opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came as his seed shot violently into his partner. He continued to thrust hard, milking the cum, working through the waves of sensation until there was nothing left — no jizz, no thought, no feeling, no strength.

He collapsed to his knees behind Chris who immediately turned and helped him onto the bed. Chris spooned in behind him, snuggling an arm over his waist, pulling him close.

Vin lay there for the longest time, hearing nothing but the thunderous pounding of his own heart. But, eventually, he began to feel Chris's hand on his stomach, slowly, gently caressing the skin there. So soothing, as he was lulled back and forth, back and forth, until he finally drifted off into darkness.

While JD sat watch for a while at the jail, Buck made his way across town to the boarding house and then up to his room. He'd planned to move his things over to the sheriff's office — that was, until he and JD had made up — but now he wasn't sure quite what to do as he pondered the facts.

Buck's room shared a common wall with JD's. That meant he could hear the kid and Vin anytime they decided to get a bit raucous. Despite making up with JD, despite beginning to settle into his admitted feelings for Chris, he wasn't sure he could sit by and listen to those two going at it like rabbits, as Chris was wont to describe them.

But if he moved to the jail, would he get any privacy at all?

Then again, the Judge did paid for his room — a dollar a day, plus room and board was the deal — so maybe he could move down the street into the establishment where Blossom roomed. But Buck immediately shook his head. It wouldn't do to be that near the woman he'd played with and laid with so many times, now that he was with Chris of all people.

So, another room in this boarding house? He knew the place wasn't nearly full, which meant there would be any number of rooms he could choose from. But, that would leave his present room vacant, available to any unsuspecting stranger who might move in and not be so tolerant of the sounds he'd occasionally overhear.

Nope, that wouldn't do. He had to keep the room. But that still didn't settle where he would sleep.

As he placed his key in the lock, he heard a door at the far end of the hall close. He looked over to find Chris walking towards him. Uncharacteristically, he smiled shyly at the man.

"Buck," Chris nodded casually.

"Chris," he replied, opening his door. He stepped inside and Chris followed him.

"What happened to your hand," the gunslinger almost immediately asked.

Buck looked down at the bandana wound around it, remembering the gash he had inflicted upon himself, in the Indian tradition, making him and JD blood brothers. He shook his head; the kid was reading far too many dime novels for his own good.

"Nothin'. It's just a scratch."

Chris didn't seem to believe him, snatching up his hand and undoing the makeshift bandage to reveal the long slice. "This ain't no scratch. Who cut you? One of those bastards get a hold of a knife?" he asked, a worried tone creeping into his voice.

"No. Them cowpokes are still secure. What kinda lawman do you think I am?"

"No kind. Just a concerned citizen who likes to tempt fate and good-for-nothing wranglers," Chris replied with a sly smile.

Buck glared at the man for a moment, as he took back his hand and bandana, rebandaging his wound.

"You oughta be more careful, Buck. That's your shooting hand," Chris reminded him.

"I know, but I'm sure it'll be healed at least as soon as my shoulder is. It'll be fine. I'll be fine. Though, ah, maybe..." he began, but then hesitated, feeling just a tad embarrassed. Finally, he swallowed and somehow found the courage, a small piece of his former self, to say coyly, "Maybe we could take another trip out to that hot spring ... sometime, when Nathan's better ... and the others are here to keep watch on the town?"

"Unfortunately, I don't think that's going to be any time soon," Chris said, leaning back against the closed door as Buck sat down on the edge of the bed, a little disappointed. "However, that don't mean we can't have a little fun here."

Buck lifted his eyebrows at the man, his heart fluttering with surprise and curiosity at what he might be thinking.

Chris threw the lock on the door, and then moved to the bed to stand in front of Buck. Buck hesitantly reached out, placing his hands for a moment on Chris's hips before sliding them over to the buttons on his trousers. It was pretty obvious what his long-time friend wanted, and Buck supposed it was time that he made good on some of the things he kept saying and promising to this man.

But, again to his surprise, Chris stopped him. "Lay back," he said, and Buck knew to obey the calm but firm voice. "Close your eyes," he continued. "And keep them closed."

Again Buck did as he was asked, his heart racing along with his mind, wonder what Chris was intending to do. He took a deep breath and waited.

"Like last night, the water is hot, soothing," Chris began, his voice barely above a whisper. "A mist hanging just above the pool, trying to hide the brightness of the full moon. There's a smell of sulfur in the air, as the water soaks into your skin...."

The man's easy words brought to Buck's mind their time at the hot spring. Relaxing some, Buck allowed the images to flow unchecked through his mind. He began to feel something on his legs, like water running gently over them, and then there was a slight tugging at his waistline, and something pressing against, moving down, the cloth covering his swelling cock.

The stiff flesh suddenly felt chilled as it was released from his trousers. But just as suddenly, it was engulfed in hot moistness, as if it had been plunged into its own, private hot spring.

Buck pressed his head back against the mattress, reveling in the sensations. There was a gentle, calming caress up and down his sides, as different places along his cock were indulged — sucked, licked, nibbled.... Then he began to hear a distant sound, so faint it could have been the wind whistling through the trees, and the resonance sent shivers over his cock, straight up his spine. The tone became louder until Buck could not fight the knowledge any longer; the truth was, he didn't want to fight it anymore. It was Chris humming, as his lips were wrapped around Buck's cock, slowly moving the thick shaft in and out of his luxurious mouth.

"Chris," he finally moaned, as softly as the man was humming. "Chris!" But the man did not hesitate, did not falter in his rhythm. Up and down, swirling his tongue over the head, licking, pressing the moist muscle against the length of his cock. Eventually, Chris slipped his hands to the inside of Buck's thighs, caressing the flesh there, sending more shivers up Buck's spine with each long, firm stroke. Buck felt fingers gently brushing against his balls, causing the skin of the delicate sacs to pucker, tense, from the unexpected sensations.

Buck began to dig his fingers into the sheets as so many emotions and sensations began to fill him. He wanted this. He wanted it from Chris. He couldn't believe how incredible this act was, how personal and intimate. How could he have gone all his life thinking this was any less pleasurable than intercourse itself?

As the tension inside his loins began to build, so did his curiosity. He wondered if he could make Chris feel anything this extraordinary, if he could give the man as much pleasure as he was receiving right at that moment. He wanted to, he wanted to at least try.

A sharp cry was suddenly ripped from Buck's lungs as he threw his head back. Wave after wave of incredible, almost unbearable pleasure swept over him, causing all the muscles in his body to convulse, throwing his head back again and again against the mattress. Until, finally, the sensations began to dissipate and all he could feel was the warmth of Chris's mouth, still covering the tender skin of his cock.

Buck reached down then and nudged Chris away, his cock just too sensitive for even that gentle contact.

Chris got up from the floor to lie down on the bed next to Buck, staring over at him. Buck's heart was still racing, his nerves tingling from the experience. He'd never felt so alive before in his life. He wanted to shout, to sing, to run naked through the streets, but instead he rolled over and caught Chris up in a fierce hug.

"That was ... ain't never felt ... hell, nothin' like it before," he whispered into his partner's ear and somehow knew that this was making Chris smile, though he refused to pull back from the hug even for the moment it would take to check.

Vin walked hesitantly into the church. He'd seen Josiah leaving Nathan's clinic as he was coming up the street and had watched him enter the building. He suspected the place was vacant except for the preacher, so he followed him in.

"Vin," the older, larger man said, retrieving a bible from the far table, before walking back toward him. "Is there something I can do for you?"

The tracker just nodded. He'd fucked Chris until the man had to be sore, and then he'd fallen asleep in his arms, with a cock up his own ass, only to wake up alone. He'd hoped being with Chris today would have eased his mind, settled some things, but all it had done was allow him to vent some pent up frustrations. He needed answers, from someone.

"Reckon I'm just a bit uneasy from all that's been going on..." he began and Josiah offered him a seat in one of the recently repaired pews.

But, when Vin neither sat nor continued to speak, Josiah gave him a nudge: "Seems to me you've had the worst of it, taking on the doctoring responsibilities when no one else was willing to."

"I ain't no doctor, no healer neither. Just did what I could and hoped I didn't make things worse," Vin responded with more resentment and anger in his voice than he realized was still in him.

"Judging by what the doctor himself said, you did fine. You probably saved Nathan's life, Vin. At least kept him alive long enough for the real doc to get here. None of us could have asked for more."

Vin finally sunk into the pew and dropped his gaze to the floor. This time Josiah just waited silently until Vin spoke again. "Ain't used ta people askin' things of me ... it's just a lot harder than I thought it would be."

Josiah nodded his gray head in understanding and Vin waited for one of his platitudes or some biblical quote, but neither came. "I guess we're all in the same situation, son. Before you and Chris brought us together we were all out there in the world alone, save for the Lord. And while He is real good at teaching thankfulness and humility, He's not always forthcoming in other matters."

"I'm not used ta havin' people depend on me, Josiah, or me bein' dependent 'pon them. Reckon it scares me sometimes."

"Reckon it scares us all. You know some of us, like Ezra, were never taught to rely on others — it's no wonder he has a difficult time finding a comfortable place among us. I suppose Chris is just the opposite; he had a family depending on him and lost them because of it. Some of us never had much opportunity, or found ourselves in circumstances that required us to look only to ourselves for survival. And with recent events, well, it's only natural that all our fears and uncertainties would be brought to the surface."

"So, what do we do?" Vin asked, truly needing to know.

"When all else fails, son, have faith. I have to believe that God brought the seven of us together, in this place, at this time, for a reason. Whether it's to see this town into a safe and prosperous future or to fill the holes in each other's souls, I don't know. But I have faith that God knows."

Vin thought on this for a while. It seemed to him, Chris had been filled with nothing but hate and vengeance after his wife and son passed. But now, he seemed to have started caring again — about himself, about life, about others. Maybe Josiah was right. Maybe they were here to help each other. Maybe, as difficult as it seemed sometimes, having these men to call his friends was better than being alone. Maybe hurting sometimes, feeling scared, was better than not feeling anything at all.

"Josiah, can I ask ya somethin'?" Vin finally said, though his voice was very quiet, not echoing at all inside the hollow church. "Earlier today, I didn't mean to, but I overheard what ya said to Nathan, 'bout lovin' him. What'dya mean?"

Josiah stood up from the pew and took several slow strides across the room before turning and facing Vin. When he spoke, his voice was quiet as well, though it did seem to fill the whole of the church right up to the rafters.

"Love takes many forms, Vin. A parent and child, a husband and wife, lovers, siblings, friends, the Lord and his flock.... In Nathan, I have found a truly good man: kind to others, generous, with a desire to help those in pain and need. There aren't enough men like Nathan in his world — men in whom I don't have to search in order to see the Lord working through their hands. He's a man I can love and be proud to know. I will feel forever sorry for myself and others in this world the day he leaves it—"

"Fellas!" JD came rushing into the church then, interrupting without a single thought. "Nathan's awake. Ya gotta come!"

Josiah grabbed his bible and then bolted for the door, Vin immediately on his heels, but JD hung back, just far enough to catch Vin's hand as he ran past. The kid pulled him behind the door for a moment, staring up at him.

"I looked for ya this afternoon. Is everything all right?"

Vin stared down at the kid for a minute as images of his time with Chris flashed behind his eyes. But he smiled as he placed his hands on each side of JD's face and then bent to kiss him. It was a soft kiss; just lips pressed together, warmth and caring exchanged, but nothing more.

"Nathan bein' hurt just got me ta thinkin' 'bout some things and I had ta get 'em sorted out."

"Did ya?" the kid asked, his brown eyes holding nothing but innocence.

Vin shook his head, no. "But I will." He then ran his hands down to the kid's shoulders and gave them a squeeze. "Now, let's go see Nathan!"

Ezra leaned his head back, reveling in the soothingly hot water that covered his body from the shoulders down. The E.P. Standish Medicinal Hot Springs Resort would certainly bring in the investors, he though, smiling with glee. Maybe his mother would finally find a reason to be proud of him.

Just then he heard a rustling in the bushes. His pile of clothes and his guns were just a tad too far out of reach to be of any use, so he hunkered down in the water and waited to see whom the intruder might be.

Two men pushed their way awkwardly through the foliage, arms about each other as they kissed, seemingly oblivious to all else around them.

Ezra watched for a moment, hoping they would break it off and notice him there in the water, but when they didn't do either, he was forced to interrupt them.

He cleared his throat before saying, "Excuse me. Gentlemen?"

Chris and Buck pushed each other apart, startled to find someone watching them. Buck ran his hand through his hair while Chris scrubbed his over his mouth, both men not knowing quite what to say, having been caught in the act.

"Unfortunately, secrets never seem to stay secret, no matter how much ones hopes they will," Ezra offered, but then added, "I mean, of course, the hot springs."

Buck and Chris both nodded, a little more vigorously than perhaps necessary.

"Well, since we're here..." Chris finally said, as he began to strip out of his clothes.

Buck caught the sly look the gunslinger gave to him, before adding, "Yeah, Ez won't mind if we join 'im."

"Now hold on just one minute there, gentlemen. Perhaps you are unaware, but you are trespassing — on MY property! Yes, mine," the gambler assured them.

"And who did you swindle in order for that to be true?" Chris asked as he slipped out of his jeans, and then approached the warm waters.

"I came by the deed honestly, I assure you. Won fair and square in a most civilized and above-board poker game."

"Did you? Well, I think I'm gonna wanna see that piece of paper. Have it on ya there, Ezra?" Buck joked, knowing the man was as naked as he and Chris now were.

The two men then slipped into the water, not too near Ezra and not too near each other, both to the gambler's relief. At least now that their secret was out they didn't intend to flaunt it, which was just fine with him.

The silence between them was awkward at first, though, but they soon began to relax a bit in the soothing waters.

It was then that they heard rustling in the shrubs on the far side of the hot spring. A moment later, Vin and JD came busting through, the large smiles on their faces instantly replaced with wide-eyed shock at seeing the other three men.

"Howdy, boys. Come to join us?" Buck asked companionably.

"Oh, now, gentlemen, I really must protest—" Ezra began but was immediately cut off.

"Sure!" JD replied. Then he and Vin proceeded to strip out of their clothes, making their own piles near the other men's.

Vin was the first to step into the hot water, but JD was not far behind. The other three men had to shift their positions to accommodate the two new occupants to the pool.

Ezra was strongly considering leaving at this point. He was naked in a pond of hot water with four other men, also naked, also known to be intimate associates of one another. The gambler was not in the least bit comfortable. Then again, leaving would mean exposing his naked form to them, also something he was not comfortable doing.

Chris then reached over and began to rub Buck's previously injured shoulder. Buck closed his eyes and sank against Chris. This made Ezra even more uncomfortable. Memories of the night he had first seen Buck and Chris together, in this very pool, flashed through his mind. Surely they didn't intend to do anything with the others present. D-did they?

But, before anything else could happen, the shrubs rustled again, only to reveal Josiah and Nathan.

Ezra groaned.

But JD waved, inviting the two men to join them.

They stripped and soon the party in the warm water had grown to seven, each man nearly shoulder to shoulder with the one next to him.

"Gentlemen. I really must protest. Certainly the honorable Judge Travis did not hire us to keep these waters safe. There is a town out there that sits unguarded at the moment. Have any of you considered that?"

Ezra thought for certain that at least Chris would feel some responsibility, would insist that they all head back into town to protect it. But he remained, like the others, silent.

But, to the gambler's surprise, the normally quiet tracker finally spoke up. "Why don't you go, Ezra. I'm sure ya can handle the town just fine by yerself. I think most of them cowboys you've been cheatin' at cards have prob'ly moved on with that cattle drive. Don't ya fellas think so?"

The other men smiled and nodded — though they all knew the danger of leaving only one man to patrol the town, after what had happened to Nathan. They had made more enemies since being hired to protect the town than they'd realized, and any number might be lying in wait for an opportunity to strike.

"Fine. We'll just let Mrs. Travis protect the town. I'm sure the lady is quite capable," Ezra retorted sarcastically.

Again the men nodded, though Ezra thought he was beginning to see a tinge of guilt in their eyes.

"And don't forget Inez. She's capable, too," JD piped in.

"The town'll be fine for a little while, Ezra," Chris finally proclaimed. "We've been gone longer than a few hours before with no disasters. I think a little time away will do us all some good."

"Then may I request, gentlemen, that the one amongst you who has his foot entangled with my privates be so kind as to remove it?"

"Sorry," Vin said, trying hard not to smile.

"I'm sorry," JD piped in with a small giggle.

"My apologies, Ezra," Josiah added.

Then Buck said, "Sorry there, pard."

"No offense." Nathan hung his head to hide his grin.

And finally Chris added, "My mistake, Ezra."

Then the six men broke out laughing.

"Yes, very funny, gentlemen, but there is still a foot where it does not belong," Ezra protested, but the others simply continued to laugh. "Fine," he finally said, then reached below the water to grab the offending appendage, intending on discovering the identity of the interloper one way or another.

Suddenly, Ezra woke to discover his own fingers tightly clutching his very hard shaft. He released himself as he shook his head and sat up. "Perhaps Inez was correct — I do sleep too much," he said to the empty room.

He then reached over to the nightstand to retrieve the silver flask of brandy he kept there. He unscrewed the cap, but did not take a sip; instead he stared at the container for a few moments before finally looking over at the clock that read nine o'clock. A quick glance at the externally illuminated curtains revealed it to be morning. He placed the cap back on the flask and set it aside without another glance.

Perhaps Inez was right about a few things.

Please do NOT repost this story anywhere outside of the Blackraptor Fiction Website.

Special thanks to my beta readers for all of their wonderful help and encouragement!

Characters from "The Magnificent Seven," were used without permission and this story in no way signifies support of or affiliation with The Mirisch Group, MGM, Trilogy Entertainment, or CBS Worldwide, Inc. The story itself and any non-Magnificent Seven characters belong to the author. This story will not be sold for any reason.

Winter 2001