ATF Universe
Chris sat up, instantly waking from a sound sleep. Something felt wrong. He glanced at the clock on the table, reading 3:17, then noticed the empty pillow. Ohmigod, Vin. Vin hadn't returned to bed. He donned the robe laying on the bed and rushed into the bathroom."Vin?"
Vin woke up hearing his name, startled to find he was still sitting in the bath, now grown cold. He was shivering, goose bumps rising on top of pox bumps.
"Vin, God, you're freezing. You fall asleep?"
"Guess s-s-so, s-shit I'm c-cold," he replied through chattering teeth. He stood and let Chris wrap a thick towel around him, drying him off. He pulled on his tee-shirt and sweatpants and hurried to the bed, diving for warmth under the covers.
"Can't believe you fell asleep in there. Here, you want me to put some of this lotion on? Won't take but a minute, could warm you up some, too, if I can rub it without irritating you too much."
"Nah, Chris, just get in here, God I'm c-cold," he said, rubbing his nose with icy fingers. He rubbed again, this time letting out a low growl of frustration.
"You getting a cold, too?" Chris asked him, somewhat apprehensively. He sure didn't want Vin to be getting any sicker. The young man didn't need to add to his misery.
"No, no cold. Just itchin'. They're in there, too."
"What, in your nose?" Chris rubbed at his own nose.
"Yeah, in m' nose, m' mouth, m'-"
"In your mouth?"
Vin sighed, "Yeah. Aww hell, Chris, I'm just turnin' into one big ol' pox."
Chris smiled, climbing into bed. He inched over toward Vin, his legs sliding over...
"Oh my God! You're feet're like ice, Vin!" Chris hurriedly pulled his feet back.
"Yeah, they're itchy too, so don't be touchin' 'em."
Chris reached out a hand, trying to find a place to rest it that wouldn't further irritate the sore skin. He hovered it above the younger man's head, by his ear, then retracted it as he heard the intake of breath.
"What, got 'em in your ears, too?"
"Yeah" Another sigh.
"Damn Vin. Y'got 'em in your mouth, nose, ears, all over your body."
"Don't forget m'-"
"Oh, believe me, I haven't forgotten. Just thinking about that is making me itch. Shit Vin, there any place I can touch you, you're not covered in them?"
Chris grinned as a hand rose from under all the covers and a pinky finger was raised. He leaned over and kissed the tip, scooting as close to the other man as he thought he could without causing undue discomfort.
+ + + + + + +
Vin tried to sleep. He just couldn't. About every twenty minutes he'd raise his head and stare again at the clock: 4:23. Shit. He felt miserable. Between the fever sending his body into alternating cold and warm spells, and the insane havoc the chicken pox was wreaking on his skin, he just couldn't seem to maintain a comfortable enough balance to fall asleep.
So he watched the clock.
4:24.
Hell.
+ + + + + + +
Chris awoke again, his hand immediately sliding to the pillow next to his and he sighed when his fingers brushed over Vin's hair. Opening his eyes, he peered into the darkness and could vaguely make out the outline of the body sleeping somewhat restlessly next to his. He shifted closer then stopped when a groan emanated from Vin's side of the bed.
"Vin, you awake?" Chris whispered.
"Mmmm," the reply a soft murmur that ended in a moan.
"You okay?"
"Nnnooooo," Vin groaned, the word stretching into three syllables.
Chris pushed himself closer, reaching a hand out to feel for the forehead of the ailing man.
"Yeah Vin, you are still hot. Here, lemme get you some water," he slid out of bed and around to the table on the other side, pouring a glass of water from the pitcher sitting there. "I'm turning on the lamp, cover your eyes for a minute," he added, squinting himself at the soft light. He glanced at the clock's readout: 5:12. What a night.
Vin had one arm thrown over his face, shielding his eyes from the sudden brightness. Chris bent down, sliding his arm under the warm back and eased the young man into a sitting position.
"Here, drink this," he said, offering the cup then frowning as a very shaky hand retrieved it.
Vin swallowed it down in a few gulps, holding it up for a refill. After Chris obliged him, he set the glass down, wiped his mouth and slid back onto the pillow. He kicked his legs out, dislodging the covers and sheets.
"'Hot as hell in here," he mumbled, long limbs splaying. He lay still for a moment, then curled onto his side, body quivering as chills started to set. "Second thought, gimme back them covers, will ya?" He turned slightly, looking up at Chris.
Chris pulled the covers out, straightening them. "I know you're cold now, but let's get you into some clean clothes first, you're soaked with sweat. Believe me, you'll be a whole lot more comfortable. I'll change the pillowcase again, too."
Vin let him help change his teeshirt and pants for the second time that night, deciding on a pair of boxers instead of another pair of sweats. He idly scratched at his scalp, his fingers working into the damp, tangled hair, trying to ease the maddening itch. Chris reached over and pulled away his hand with a frown.
"Knock it off, you'll make it worse."
"You got any idea how tired I am ahearin' that?" Vin frowned in return, snatching his hand away to claw at his neck instead.
"Jesus, Vin, you've gotta stop the scratching, it isn't going to help," Chris admonished, again pulling on his lover's arm.
Vin sunk back to the pillow with a defeated sigh. "Just feel like shit, Chris. M'skin's hot, then cold. I can't sleep, I can't scratch. Can't have sex. Can't do nothin'," he sighed again.
Chris crawled into bed, inching up to the complaining young man. He pulled the sheet and duvet up, covering himself and Vin who, after several quiet minutes, groaned loudly and kicked the bedding off once again.
"Turn on the ceiling fan, will ya, It's like an oven in here."
"Vin-"
"Shit Chris, can't help it, 'm hot," he wailed in frustration.
Chris did not miss the fact he was also twisting his back into the mattress. "You're scratching again, too." He placed a firm hand on Vin's chest, pressing him to stop.
"Can't help it," Vin whined, rolling onto his side, face turned into Chris's chest. "I hate this."
Chris placed his hand on the hot forehead, soothing back the damp hair. He felt Vin shiver next to him, and reached down, again pulling up the down duvet. Carefully, he draped an arm lightly over the warm body, softly whispering, "I know, I know...try and sleep, just close your eyes and relax."
"I itch," came the whispered reply.
"I know."
"An'...an' I'm cold."
"I know that, too."
A pause, then:
"I got spots."
"Yeah, you do."
"Lots of 'em."
"I know, I'm really sorry."
"Even on m' di-"
"I know, Vin. Now, close your eyes."
"'Kay. I'm so tired."
"Shhhh-"
"An' 'm hot."
"Anything else?"
It was quiet for several moments and Chris hoped that Vin had managed to fall back to sleep. He closed his own eyes, feeling himself drift, then a small voice:
"'M kinda horny, too, Larabee."
Chris smiled, "Go to sleep, Spot."
Morning sunlight lit up the room all too quickly and Chris rolled over relieved it was Saturday. He opened one eye as the shrill ring of the telephone broke the morning silence. Pushing up, he leaned over the blanket-covered lump that was Vin and grabbed the cordless phone."H'lo...uh, hello?"
"Chris, it's me. Just callin' t' see how Pox Boy's doin'," Buck's jovial voice burst loudly through the receiver, Chris held it inches from his ear and could still hear quite clearly.
"Buck, what the hell time is it?" He asked at the same time looking disbelieving at the small clock. 9:45.
"Well, I got quarter o' ten or so. Hey Chris, me an' the KId figured we'd help out and come cook brunch for you two, unless you've already eaten, then I guess we'll come cook lunch. JD's dying to check out that new mare you got and I figured I'd come 'long, keep you and Junior company. What d'ya say? Think Vin'd care we came out?"
"Uh, yeah, sure. Come on over. Oh and hey, Buck, do me a favor and go by the pharmacy, y'now the one where you picked up Vin's last prescription for me? Pick up the one Rain called in, will you? I'm pretty sure his insurance info will still be on file there. Thanks, see you in a bit."
Slipping out of bed, he glanced down at the huddled mass. Vin was completely covered by the down duvet, softly snoring. Chris briefly squeezed the blanketed lump, then headed to the bathroom for a warm shower.
+ + + + + + +
Vin was warm. Happily warm. Happily warm and sleepy. And itchy. Really itchy. Oh God, really, really itchy. He groaned, tossing aside the heavy covers and raked both hands down his front, his skin burning with the contact. Knowing he shouldn't, he couldn't stop himself and moved to repeat the action on his back. He scratched and rubbed in frustration as his skin only became more inflamed. Shaking himself, he sat up, hands now shifting to graze over irritated thighs and calves. He shot up off the bed and ran into the bathroom seeking something, anything for relief.
Ahh, the calamine. Pouring a large handful, he slapped it onto reddened skin, coating himself with a thick pink layer. He stood by the sink, head down, and waited, prayed for the lotion to ease the agony. Raising his head, he sought his reflection in the mirror, then quickly looked away. He brushed his teeth, glad to find the action did not seem to affect the sores inside his mouth. He stood, somewhat timidly, in front of the toilet and let the shorts drop, refusing to glance down, afraid of there being more spots on his already unhappy organ.
Leaving the bathroom, he heard his name and called back.
"Buck, that you I'm hearing?"
The large man bounded into the bedroom to stand in front of Vin.
"Kee-rist, Junior. You are a sight to see, I kid you not." He bent down some, staring Vin in the face, "Goddamn boy, you are just covered with them things. Here, take this medicine I got ya, let it get to work soon as possible."
Vin took the bag and opened the plastic container. He read the label, dumped a dose onto his palm and threw them down his throat. His eyes rounded and he gasped.
"Water. Buck, please."
Buck ran to the bathroom, filling the glass there with water and handed it to Vin.
"Shit Tanner, never saw you take medicine that quick before. Must be hurtin' bad, huh?"
qq Vin nodded, "Itchy."
"Yeah, I can see that. You got some of them bleedin'. Can't scratch, Vin, just makes 'em worse. You'll get scars, y'now."
Vin rolled his eyes, then asked, "How long 'til it kicks it, d'ya think?"
"Well, near as I figure, from what Chris said Rain told ya, it should lessen the next wave of pox to come. So long as you can suffer through this one, the next one should be a breeze."
Vin nodded. "Hey, speaking of Chris, where is he? And what th' hell you doin' here so early, Bucklin?"
"Oh, me and JD came out 'bout an hour ago. And it ain't that early, Vin, must be goin' on 'leven thirty or so, by now. Chris and JD took that new mare o' his out for a bit, I told Chris I'd hang here, see if you needed anything...So...Do ya? Need anything, I mean?"
"Nah, I'm okay. Had no idea was so late. Guess I was catchin' up on not gettin' 'nough sleep last night. Still tired, some." He sat down on the bed, idly scratching one arm. Buck whisked away his hand.
"No scratchin'. Knock it off."
"Can't seem t' help it, Buck. It itches," Vin glared at the man seated next to him.
"What the hell's that pink goop y' got all over ya, Vin?"
"Calamine lotion. S'posed to help the itchin'. It ain't workin' all that well," He replied, clawing at his neck.
"So I see," Buck said, again pulling Vin's hand away. "You just gotta stop 'fore some of 'em get infected. Listen, you hungry at all? I can make somethin' for ya, some broth or such?"
Vin groaned. "Yeah, I'm hungry, but not for no broth. Geeze, was it Nathan or Chris told ya t' say that? What I'd really like's a grande burrito, extra salsa."
"Well, part of you's feelin' better, anyway. How 'bout I make us some steak subs outta what's left from last night. You come help, take your mind off the itch."
Vin nodded and followed the other man down into the kitchen, scratching all the way.
By the time he'd finished lunch, Vin was exhausted. He sat at the table, half-heartedly listening to Buck's incessant patter, and tried not to let the man see him scratch.He couldn't help it. He itched.
Buck watched Vin trying to hide the fact that he was scratching himself silly. The younger man looked tired and uncomfortable and after he'd eaten some, it hadn't taken much persuasion to get him upstairs, back to bed. The minute his head hit the pillow, he fell asleep. Buck pulled the covers up around him and shut off the light.
A short while later, Chris and JD returned, coming into the kitchen. Buck had just removed a large pan of lasagna from the oven, filling the room with its aroma. He placed it on the hotpad on the counter.
"Smells great, Buck, you cookin', huh?"
"Yep, Kid, 's my special lasagna. Don't touch it, though, 's hot, let it cool down some. By the time the others get here it'll be ready to eat."
"Others? Don't tell me y' got everyone headed out here again tonight?" Chris asked.
"Yeah, hell Chris, first Josiah called t' see how Junior's doin', then Nathan and Rain wanted to know if he'd taken the medicine. By the time Ezra'd called I figured might as well tell everyone come on out, might help distract Vin from scratchin'. So, then I rummaged around 'n' found the fixin's for lasagna, helped m' self. They'll be here in an hour or so."
"How's Vin doing, anyway?" JD asked as he moved to slide the lasagna pan down the counter so he could get to the glasses in the cabinet behind it.
"Don't touch that pan, JD," Buck yelled, brushing the young man's hands away. "That'll fry your fingers, here use this spoon, push it out the way."
"I got hot pads somewhere," Chris commented, opening a drawer.
"Yeah, got them under the pan so's not to burn your counter." Buck eased the pan down the counter.
"Well, there's a pair of oven mitts, too, somewhere," Chris continued to open drawers.
"Found 'em earlier, but I'm usin' them for somethin' else. In fact, come on, I'll show ya," Buck grinned, heading up the stairs.
They quietly entered the darkened bedroom, whispering so as to not waken the man in bed.
Buck turned on the bathroom light, partially shutting the door so the illumination would remain slight. He pointed to the bed.
Chris smiled and JD covered his mouth with his hand to stifle a giggle as they spied Vin lying on his back under the covers. His hands rested on the duvet, both encased in the oven mitts, their openings secured around his wrists with duct tape.
"I figured this way he can't tear himself apart anymore'n he's already done with all the scratchin' he's doin'," Buck smiled.
"He know you did this to him?" Chris asked, not too sure this was a good idea. Vin was not going to be thrilled about not having the use of his hands.
"Not yet, he don't," Buck replied, "I came to check on him earlier and he was sound asleep, scratchin' himself bloody. Just look at his neck there, he's torn it raw. I already had the mitts on m' hands when I come up, got the idea, found the duct tape in your toolbox and there ya go. Problem solved. Way I see it, I've done the boy a favor."
"I don't know, Buck," JD added, "I don't think Vin'll be too happy about this when he-"
"Hey," a sleepy voice softly said. "What's goin' on?"
The men standing looked down at the one lying in bed, each wincing as the quiet voice grew louder.
"HEY, what did ya do to m' hands?" Vin held up each of his arms to inspect them. "What's this, mittens? Ya taped mittens to m' hands? Very funny. Chris, get 'em off. Now."
Buck chuckled as he sat on the bed. "Now Vin, I did it. See, this way, you don't have t' worry 'bout scratchin' yourself to shreds, ain't that a great thing?" He looked back at Chris and JD for confirmation. They both retreated a step toward the door.
"Buck," Vin's voice lowered, "Take 'em offa me." He was not amused, and his neck was starting to really itch again. Holding his arms out, he waited for someone to cut off the tape, freeing his hands. No one moved.
"Hey, I mean it, get 'em off," he demanded again, a little more insistently. Again, the other three just stared at him, shaking their heads. He moved to scratch his neck, but with the padded covering on his hand, couldn't manage enough pressure to ease the irritation. He rubbed instead, but the mitts were soft and smooth on the outside and he couldn't create the friction needed.
"Chris, please," Vin looked at his lover, again holding up his hands. Buck had even placed them with the thumbs on the wrong side, so he couldn't work them separately.
"Y'now Buck, I'm thinking this really is a good idea you've come up with," Chris decided, after watching Vin's failed attempts to inflict any more damage to his already abused skin.
"No, it ain't a good idea at all!" Vin protested. How could they leave him this way? He tried to pry loose the edge of the duct tape with his teeth and sighed loudly when he was unsuccessful. "Chris, please," he pleaded again, setting his face into the most hang-dog look he could muster.
"Oooh Chris, watch out, he's giving you 'the look'," Buck laughed, standing away from the bed.
Chris smiled at Buck, then frowned some at Vin, who was now sending Buck his sharpest glare.
"Listen, Vin, I know you don't like it but, really, you are scratching so hard your neck's bleeding, you've been doing a lot of damage in your sleep. Maybe this'll help prevent you from tearing it to shreds, you don't want to get an infection, do you? It already doesn't look so good. In fact, JD, hand me some of that antibacterial cream over there." Chris took the tube from JD and squirted a liberal amount in his hand. He bent over Vin, who snapped at him.
"Get away from me, I don't need any y'all helping me no more. Leave me alone."
"Oh relax, will you?" Chris snarled back. "Nobody's done anything to you. Settle down." He rubbed the cream over the chaffed skin, gently easing it into the angry sores. "You've got more spots showing, are they itching at all?"
"'Course they's itchin', whaddaya expect? You're rubbing all over them. An' I can't believe you're gonna leave me like this neither, it ain't funny," Vin glared at him, shifting slightly away. Chris reached over and pulled him closer, leaving his hand to rest on Vin's shoulder, holding him firmly in place.
"Stay still. What're you getting so pissed off about anyway?"
Vin just mutely held up his hands, again waiting for someone to remove the mitts. JD moved hesitantly forward, his expression apologetic.
"No JD," Chris said, "Leave them for now."
"I ain't sleepin' now, Chris. I won't scratch at 'em, now I'm awake. G' head, JD, take 'em off," Vin smiled at JD, who stood rooted in place. No way he was gonna move if Chris said not to.
"Leave them, JD. Rain's coming over in a little while, we'll have her look you over. She can decide whether or not we let your hands out."
Vin sighed, "Okay, okay, fine, but now I-"
"Forget it Vin. You should see yourself, you've really sliced up your neck."
"But Chris, I have-"
"Really, he's right, Vin. It does look bad, gonna leave a scar," JD nodded in agreement with Chris.
"Okay, but Chris, I really-"
"Listen Junior. It ain't for that long, you still look tired, why don't you lie back an' rest."
"Geeze Chris, lemme up. I...I gotta go," Vin yelled, thrusting himself forward and off the bed. "Take 'em off, I gotta piss real bad." Again, he held out his hands.
"You can just sit down and go, Vin. It'll be faster than unwrapping the tape. C'mon, I'll give you a hand," Chris grinned, escorting him by his elbow into the bathroom. He put down the toilet seat.
Vin huffed loudly. And sat.
He was warm again. Slowly opening his eyes, he looked at the clock at his bedside. 5:30. Morning? 'No,' he thought, 'must be in the evening.' His eyes shifted, the room was dark. Where was everyone? He'd been up for a while before, talking and laughing with JD and Buck, hoping to forget about his discomfort. But now, somehow the house seemed too quiet. He rubbed at his face, trying to get to his neck, but stopped, letting go a sigh of frustration when he realized the oven mitts were still attached to his hands. He rolled onto his back and kicked the covers away with his legs. Cool air drifted quickly over his sweaty body, chilling him, and he reached down to pull the covers back up. Trying unsuccessfully with one hand, he shifted and was reaching with two just as the door cracked open and light spilled in from the hallway."You up?" Chris' voice whispered.
"Yeah," Vin whispered back, finally managing to cover himself again. His hands were sweaty inside the mitts. "An' 'm hot," he offered, knowing what que stion was about to be asked of him.
"But are you decent?" Buck's voice said from behind Chris. "I mean, we don't want Rain walkin' in t' no scary surprises, now."
"Buck, move it," Rain laughed, ducking into the room from under his arm.
Chris turned on the light and the three entered. Rain circled around the bed, seating herself down next to Vin, who raised himself up against the pillows.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, peering into his face.
"Itchy. Hot, but not as bad as before," he sat limply, his still-covered hands resting on top of the covers.
Rain glanced at them and laughed lightly. "Let me guess, Buck?"
"Yeah, was me. Good idea, huh? I'm full of 'em, I tell you."
Vin rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Bucklin', you're full lots o' things, like-"
"Now, now, Vin," Buck hastily said, "Don't need t' be sayin' anything ya may regret later, an' we don't wanna be nasty around the doc here, do we?"
Rain laughed again, then took Vin's temperature. "Hmm, your fever's down a touch, that's a good thing. You've started the medication, right?"
"Yeah, I been takin' it."
She peered into his face, then moved to pull up his shirt. "May I?" Vin nodded and leaned forward, letting her peel the tee off of his torso.
Buck swore softly. "Damn, Vin, you really are covered...," his voice trailed off in a sympathetic hiss.
"Actually, Vin," Rain said, "a few don't appear to be too bad, which means the medicine's starting to do its job. You have quite a few new ones, the meds should make them somewhat easier to bear. How's the itching, driving you crazy?" She studied his front then bent him forward to examine his back.
"Driving me crazy," Chris interjected as he sat on the opposite side of the bed.
"Oh, my itchin's drivin' you crazy, ain't that just a damn shame. How the hell ya think it's makin' me feel?" Vin glared. He was just not feeling all too agreeable at the moment. He looked up as he felt all eyes upon him, and snapped, "What? Somethin' you find interestin', Buck?"
"Just thinkin' if I had a pen, and connected some of those dots y' got coverin' your chest there, well, I think I see the outline of...of-" "Don't tell me, I don't wanna hear it," Vin interrupted, knowing for sure he didn't want to know.
"I wanna hear it," JD smiled, entering the room.
"Well, look right there, JD. Vin, move your arm back some so the Kid here can get a look-"
"Fuck off, Buck," Vin hissed, clamping both arms across his chest.
"Oh, I think I saw it," JD grinned, "Startin' by his shoulder and working down and around, it's a rabbit.
"Rabbit? Shit, JD, you need glasses, boy. Obviously you ain't got no vision. It's the King."
"A king? Where?" JD moved closer, squinting as he stared hard at Vin's chest.
"Good heavens, son," a southern accent exclaimed, "if you are mistaking Mr. Tanner for a member of royalty, perhaps you are in need of a good ophthalmologist."
Vin rolled his eyes, groaning as the voice reached his ears. "Ezra. God. Please tell me he ain't comin' in here, too."
"Why, Mr. Tanner, do I detect in your timbre a slight trace of annoyance at my arrival?" Ezra entered, standing to one side of the bed, looking down upon the somewhat agitated man.
"Hey, Ezra," JD smiled, pointing to Vin. "Buck here says he sees a king on Vin's chest."
"I beg your pardon?" Ezra looked to Buck then back to Vin, who seemed to be shrinking into the mattress.
"Not a king, boy," Buck corrected, "the King."
Ezra pointed to Vin, now covered with the bedsheet. "You have acquired a tattoo?"
"No, no. The dots, Ezra. On his chest. Connect the dots," JD explained. "Only I think it looks more like a rabbit."
"JD, get t' hell out," Vin said, his eyes shooting daggers to anyone with whom he could make eye contact.
"No JD, ain't no rabbit. It's Elvis, I tell you. The king, in profile."
"Buck, get t' hell out."
"Where's Elvis?" Josiah asked, entering the room.
"Junior's hiding him under the sheet," Buck offered.
"Except it's really a rabbit," JD protested.
"Rabbit?" Nathan queried, walking in behind Josiah. "Who's got a rabbit?"
Vin groaned, pulling the covers up higher.
"Apparently Mr. Tanner is concealing one under the bedclothes, from what I'm able to determine."
"You have an animal in bed with you, what on earth would possess you to do that?" Nathan asked, his expression incredulous.
Chris and Rain laughed, both totally enjoying the nonsensical conversation. Chris nudged Rain, directing her to watch Vin, who had completely covered himself save two glaring eyes.
"Ain't a rabbit Nathan, it's Elvis's profile. Y'now, we really oughta call somebody. Anyone know the number for Graceland?" Buck chuckled.
"You're nuts, Buck, It's a rabbit. Here, I'll show ya. Vin, c'mon and let me-," JD insisted, reaching to pull away at the covers.
"Get the hell out, all of y'all!" Vin scowled, sinking himself as low as possible into the bed.
JD stopped, staring at the upset man. "Well gee, Vin. We were only trying to cheer you up, ya don't have to yell."
"C'mon Kid, let's leave the grouch to his doctor," Buck said, pushing a hand to JD's back and steering him out the door.
"Ah, Buck," Ezra followed, his voice trailing behind him, "tell me, how close was this resemblance to Elvis? You do realize, some of his admirers would consider this a true manifestation and might, for a nominal fee of course, be willing to..."
"Get 'em out!" Vin wailed, "I ain't no side-show, an' I ain't got nothin' on m' skin but pox; no rabbit, no...no Elvis, and sure as hell no man-stations!
After dinner, Vin lay on the sofa, a light blanket covering up his lower body and, he hoped, covering up his scratching. Chris had finally relented and removed the oven mitts, leaving Vin free use of his hands. He lightly skimmed them over the sensitive skin of his thighs. He was sure there wasn't a place on his body that wasn't tormenting him, although, he did admit the new pox that appeared did not seem to leave him in as horrible an agony as the first ones.He'd eaten fairly well of Buck's lasagna. After Rain had checked him over, he'd come downstairs to join the others for dinner, initially outraged when Nathan had, jokingly it turned out, brought him a bowl of weak broth on a tray. He'd scowled and was ready to launch into quite a vicious tirade when Chris stepped in, took the bowl and replaced it with a hearty helping of the lasagna. He ate most of what was on his plate, picking somewhat at Rain's salad, more out of courtesy for her than his liking it, and had two large glasses of ice water, which did wonders in easing his somewhat scratchy throat.
Now he was relaxed back onto a large pillow, the blanket concealing his light scratching and drowsily listening to the light conversation around him.
"Ezra, yer mother's comin' into town when?"
"I believe this Wednesday night, so she says. Lord, she's found herself someone else with whom to play the matrimonial game, or should I say someone else has found her. Apparently he is a prince, of some destitute country, probably. How does she manage it? I do believe she's finally achieved double digits in her number of engagements."
"Engagements? She doesn't marry them all, does she?"
"No, JD, fortunately for her suitors, she leads them down the primrose path as far as she deems possible, and as is her modus operandi, she reneges on the actual event. Usually some minute idiosyncracy of theirs manifests itself in some untimely fashion, and she suddenly finds them to be woefully ill-suited for nuptials. Charming, n'est-ce-pas?"
"Still, I do find your mother to be quite...irrisistable. I'm drawn to Maude," Josiah beamed.
"Good Lord. If you value life as you know it, you'll cease and desist."
"Well, tell her we all say hello," Chris said, pushing Vin's legs over so he could sit next to him on the sofa. He pulled down the blanket and seized both of the younger man's wrists.
"Chris, geeze," Vin snapped, pulling hard to free his hands.
"You don't stop, we're gonna not only put the mitts back on your hands, we're gonna tie 'em together as well," Chris said sternly. He could see red welts where Vin's fingers had raked down his thighs.
Vin pulled his hands free, folding them to his chest and frowned at his lover. "Fine," was all he'd say. He sat for awhile, not really concentrating on anything anyone said, and slowly felt his eyelids becoming heavier and heavier until he decided they were much too heavy to keep open and he stopped trying. His skin was becoming uncomfortably warm again, and he found himself wishing, as much as he enjoyed their company, for all his friends to just go away.
Chris nodded toward Vin, who was near asleep, and the others quietly bade him goodbye. He walked them out, turning back into the house as the last vehicle left the drive. Vin was sound asleep on the sofa, the blanket half-covering him and Chris stood for a moment, gazing down at the sleeping man.
"God, you're still the most beautiful thing I know, spots and all," he said aloud. He desperately wanted to feel the usually smooth skin under his hands, wanted to entwine his fingers into that thick, luxurious mane of hair and breathe in the scent he knew as Vin. Instead, knowing the young man was still fairly ill, he gently shook a shoulder in an attempt to rouse the sleeping form.
"Vin," he said softly, "Vin, get up. Let's get you to bed. Upstairs."
Vin murmured, a hand waving slightly in the air, then he settled quietly again.
"No, Vin, come on. You'll feel a whole lot better if you sleep upstairs, let's go," Chris said again, this time shaking somewhat harder.
Vin slowly opened his eyes, blinking once at the face peering so closely into his. "Chris?"
"Yeah, it's me. Let's go, you fell asleep down here. C'mon I'll take you to bed."
"Take me?" Vin smiled, awakening more, "Huh, is that a threat?"
"Maybe."
"Or a promise?"
"Absolutely."
+ + + + + + +
By the time they reached the bedroom, Vin was near exhausted. He fell onto the bed, curling up against the cool sheets and smiled drowsily when Chris tucked the duvet around him.
"How're you doing, okay?" Chris wanted to know, reaching a hand over to brush it against a warm forehead.
"Been better, been worse, too. I'll be alright, just need t' get rid o'this itchin' 's all," he ducked out from under the hand that was irritating the welts on his forehead. "Sorry Chris, it ain't you, just itchin' again."
"No, I'm sorry. Listen, you want to try soaking again, before you go to sleep?"
Vin nodded, thinking maybe that could ease up some of the intensity. He followed Chris into the bathroom, letting the other man ready the bath. He undressed and slid into the water with a loud sigh. Initially, the heat from the bath seemed to aggravate the sores, but after a few minutes the itchiness seemed to abate and he closed his eyes, sighing again.
Chris smiled, watching him for a minute, then calling to him before he turned to leave. "Do not fall asleep in there again, got it?"
Vin nodded and relaxed as the bath eased his sore body. Fifteen minutes later, Chris came in, calamine lotion in hand. He helped Vin dry off, then coated him with the thick pink liquid. A few minutes later, they were both sound asleep in bed.
Sunday night found Vin faring slightly better, the medicine having eased the intensity of the new vesicles. While the annoying itch remained, and the low fever held steady, he felt at least somewhat more human than the day before. The meds were working."I'm takin' a shower, y' gonna put some more lotion on me when I get out?" he asked, grinning slightly. As miserable as his skin felt, at least he could look forward to having Chris spread the lotion on with his gentle hands.
"Yeah, I'll wait right here...thinkin' about you...standing in there...naked, water running all down your body."
"Well, don't think too hard, I ain't sure the little soldier's gonna be up to the parade, he's still recovering from his wounds. 'Course, a good massage might help with the itch, now I think 'bout it," Vin grinned.
"No scratchin', there either. You sure don't need any more scars than you're already gonna have. We'll just leave him alone for the time being."
Vin smiled, making his way into the bathroom, turning on the water for the shower. He stood still, letting the warm liquid flow over his tortured flesh, enjoying the relief the wet spray was providing. He set the shower massage to high and groaned deeply when the sharp blasts of water hit the irritated skin of his back, somewhat satisfying the urge to scratch. Turning around to face the spray, he set his face close to the water and shuddered as the hard stinging jets worked over his neck. He moaned loudly.
"What the hell you doing in here?" Chris asked, sliding open the shower door.
"Jus' takin' a shower," Vin replied, turning around again.
"Just scratching, you mean. Your skin's bright red."
"Yeah," Vin sighed.
Chris reached in, shutting off the water and handed over a towel. "C'mon, let's get that lotion on you before you get in bed."
+ + + + + + +
By Wednesday, the fever was gone, replaced with an energy level Vin could hardly keep contained. He was still home from work and bouncing off the walls. He called Chris. Again.
"What?" Chris barked into the phone. He knew Vin was bored, knew he was becoming increasingly restless and knew if the young man didn't stop calling him every half and hour, he was going to go home and throttle him.
"Hey, Chris," Vin said, ignoring the annoyed tone of his lover and boss. "I'm just wondering what you want for dinner? Thought I'd start cookin', y' are comin' home early, right? Right?"
"Well, I don't know. If you keep calling me every fifteen minutes, Vin, I'm not going to get any work done, and if I don't get any work done then I can't cut out early, can I?"
"Geeze, Chris, relax. I think you need a break or somethin', you sound a little tense. Why don'tcha come on home now? I'll help ya relax."
"Vin, what I need right now is-"
"Me in you?"
"Uh...ye-ah, that works...but that wasn't exactly what I was going to say. What I really need is-"
"Me?"
Chris sighed, then smiled, "Yeah...yeah, Vin, you."
"Does that mean you're comin' home? Now?"
Chris smiled at the wistful tone coming through the receiver. "Give me an hour, Vin. Then I promise I'll try and head out. Okay?"
"Okay, okay. Bye. Oh, Chris? Soon, 'kay?"
"Yeah soon, now let me work."
By the time he left, it was three hours and six phone calls from Vin later than he'd promised. He came through the kitchen, stopping as he surveyed the incredible mess he found. Used pots and pans littered virtually every inch of counterspace and there was a trail of something thick and red from the stove to the sink.
"Vin?" he called out, grabbing a towel and wiping at the spill.
Vin bounded into the kitchen, grinning widely. He threw himself at Chris, wrapping him in a loving embrace, then pulled back smiling. "Where's everyone else?" he asked.
"What do you mean? They're not coming over tonight," Chris said staring at the happy face. "They're not coming here tonight. Tell me they're not all coming over here again tonight, Vin."
"Well, okay, they're not all comin'. Ezra ain't gonna be here, he's gotta go pick up Maude at the airport," Vin grinned again, rushing out to meet the others as the sound of tires hit the gravel driveway.
Chris shook his head, heading back outside to greet the ever-present entourage.
The rest of the members of Team 7 headed into the house, all grabbing plates and beer and helping themselves to the large pot of spaghetti on the stove.
"Sorry, Chris. Just, I was gettin' lonely, an' it didn't look like you were comin' any time soon, an' I didn't want t' get stuck here by m'self all night, so I kinda invited everyone over. Then they told me you'd already left to come home, an', well, I couldn't uninvite them, could I? 'Sides, I made so much spaghetti sauce, I didn't know what to do with it all, got the recipe from Rain. She only knows how to cook for an army, y'now."
"So I see," Chris nodded to the mess in the kitchen, then found a plate and helped himself.
"So Vin, you ready to get back to work?" Josiah asked around a mouthful of spaghetti and sauce.
"Hell yeah, I'll be back tomorrow-"
"Monday," Nathan corrected.
"No, tomorrow," Vin frowned.
"No, Monday," Chris chimed in, nodding to Nathan.
"Friday?"
"Monday."
Vin sighed.
"Look Vin, you're just now starting to crust over, you're still contagious. Give it 'til Monday, then you'll be scabbed and they'll start to fall off and-"
"Oh, for Christ's sake," Buck moaned into his beer, "can't we talk about something else, anything else?"
"Hello, gentlemen."
All heads turned at the sound of the sultry feminine voice. Josiah broke into a winning smile.
"You do remember everyone, don't you mother?" Ezra asked, sweeping an arm around the room as he entered behind Maude.
"Yes, why yes, of course I do. How nice to see y'all again. Ezra and I just wanted to pop-in, say hello, isn't that right Ezra? Ezra?"
Ezra half-waved then sat, rubbing his temples.
"She giving you a headache already?" Nathan whispered.
"Let's just say she's contributing greatly to the one I've already got," Ezra whispered back, head in hands.
"My heavens, Mr. Tanner, what on earth has befallen you? You look positively ghastly," Maude exclaimed, standing in front of the young man.
"Ezra didn't tell ya? I've got the pox."
"Smallpox? That's impossible, it isn't-"
"No mother, chicken pox. He's got chicken pox," Ezra said, his hands kneading the back of his neck.
"Chicken pox?" Maude asked, eyebrows raised. She turned to Ezra. "Then what in heaven's name are you doing here? Have you no sense, or are you deliberately trying to become ill?"
"Mother, I cannot acquire the illness if I'm immune to it," Ezra replied with some exasperation. His head was pounding in protest at the shrill voice.
"That's right, Ezra. But you are not immune, you have never had chicken pox."
All eyes shifted to Ezra, who sat staring at Maude in disbelief.
"Of course I have had it," he said to her, "I've had it. Tell...tell me I have had it."
"No, I'm sure you haven't. Measles, yes, Lord, that was dreadful. Chicken pox, no."
Vin laughed, "I'll be gettin' the calamine."
"I'll be getting the baking soda," JD grinned.
"And I'll be leaving on the first plane out," Maude laughed lightly. "Really Ezra, don't look so forlorn. It will all be over in just a week. I hear there is even medication available that will help. Now, really, I do hope your friends can help you out, you don't look at all well."
Ezra glanced at Buck who smiled softly, "We'll take care of him, Maude."
That Friday night, Chris lay sleepily on the bed, waiting for Vin to head upstairs after locking up. It had been a long week filled with seemingly endless nights trying to keep Vin comfortable, and equally never-ending days spent trying to catch up at work with his shortened staff. Ezra had been out the rest of the week as well with his own suffering (and, no, I have no intention of scratching out that itchy story) and with Buck taking care of him, he too, had been absent a good part of the time. He exhaled heavily, feeling the tension slowly drain from his overtaxed mind and body and let himself relax; he felt completely exhausted. Add to that the several beers he'd had at dinner and he found keeping his eyes open an impossibility.He awakened slowly, his mind unwilling to let go the comfort of sleep, but he heard laughing and it was prodding at him. No wait, it wasn't just the laughter prodding him, a finger was as well. He opened one eye and smiled at Vin's face peering down at him.
"You poking at me?" he said gruffly.
"Yep. Y' gonna wake up or what?"
"What time is it?" Chris asked.
"'Bout midnight. C'mon, wake up."
"You stop pokin' that finger at me or I'm going to find some other use for it, Tanner."
Vin laughed again. "Oh, I don't think so."
Chris immediately opened his eyes. He knew that tone, and it usually meant the worst for him. He moved to push himself to sit, and found he couldn't.
"Vin, what have ya done to my hands?" he could barely see, the room was almost completely dark. He couldn't move his arms, Vin had secured them to the bed.
"Well, let's just say I've found that oven-mitts don't show tie marks."
"You didn't."
Vin leaned forward, kissing him deeply. "Yep. I did."
He straddled Chris' abdomen and ran his hands over the hard, muscled surface. Bending down, he licked a long, slow trail from one hard nipple to another, then up to plunge his tongue again into the warm mouth.
"God, Larabee, I've waited all week for this."
"You and me both. Let me loose so I can play, too."
"Hold your horses, I'm busy," Vin replied, trailing his tongue back down the firm chest. He slid to the side, laying next to Chris and firmly grasped the erection now saluting him.
"Well, well, look at this," Vin said gleefully eyeing his lover's hardening organ. "You that happy to see me or...maybe ya just wanna go back t' sleep."
"Vin-"
"Not now Chris, said I was busy."
He slowly licked the rigid staff from base to tip, then swirled his tongue over the sensitive cleft before wrapping his mouth over the head, sucking deeply.
"God, Vin, you're...you're-"
"You likin' this?" Vin laughed running both hands over Chris' body, who shivered at the touch.
"Hmmm, yeah, you could say that...you let me go and I'll show you how much I like it..."
"Is that a threat?"
"Maybe."
"Or a promise?"
"Absolutely."
END
Oh, and if anyone feels the itch to write the Ezra meets the Pox story, feel free. I'm all scratched out.
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