TITLE: Getting Even

AUTHOR: Rita Clark

ARCHIVE: Yes

DISCLAIMER: What I own in reference to any rights concerning "The Magnificent Seven": Nothin’. What I got for writing this story: Nothin’ tangible.

SPOILERS: References are made to some of the events in "The Trial".

NOTES/COMMENTS: This is a sequel to "The Trial – Epilogue" due to the rather insistent requests I received for Chris to exact a little revenge on Vin. (You guys know who you are.) You might enjoy "Getting Even" more if you’ve read the events in the first story. Without the invaluable assistance, kind encouragement and the occasional kick in the butt from my beta readers Judy, Marlyn and Mirna, this story would never have been written.

RATING/PAIRING: NC-17 for some language (cussin’ for the uninitiated), a little light "bondage" (don’t panic, it’s not done in a serious manner) and a m/m relationship, Chris/Vin of course.

Getting Even . . .

By Rita Clark

There were only two men in the dimly lit room above the livery stable now. The remaining five members of the Seven had gradually drifted away from the small clinic to rest after all the reassurances from Nathan that Vin Tanner would be fine. Nathan, who had two outlying farms to visit later in the morning, had even agreed to get a little sleep in Josiah’s extra room at the church so that the clinic would be as quiet as possible for what was left of the night. The tracker lay quietly on the narrow bed, sleeping peacefully at last. The fever had broken and he was simply resting. The man sitting beside him was as physically tired as the others and he was wrung out emotionally as well, but he had wanted to watch the patient through a few more hours before he was satisfied the crisis was over.

It had all started out as a routine trip to Ridge City for Vin. He was delivering papers at the request of Judge Travis who had been in Four Corners for a brief visit with Mary and Billy Travis. All Vin was required to do was to get the Judge’s signed documents to the courthouse in Ridge City, stay the night and ride back. The trip out, begun in the dark and relative coolness of dawn, had become hot and tiresome, but uneventful. The trip back had been hell on earth.

Vin had stubbornly decided that he didn’t want to spend the night at either the crowded hotel or any of the boarding houses in the large, bustling town so he had pushed himself and Peso to make the trip there in record time. He had merely rested a bit, eaten something and made sure that Peso was well watered before immediately starting back to Four Corners in spite of the lateness of the hour. About halfway back, Vin had suddenly started feeling dizzy. He’d developed a blinding headache and a fever came on rapidly after that. A massive thunderstorm had been building in the late afternoon summer heat and it broke with all its fury as he kept riding along the road between Ridge City and Four Corners instead of seeking shelter. Within minutes, he was soaking wet from the heavy downpour and then shivering from his overheated body’s reaction to the cooler temperatures. It was all he could do to hang onto the reins so he wrapped them around the pommel of his saddle. Trusting Peso implicitly, Vin let the black gelding set the pace and make his way back to town on the now familiar route.

By the time he reached Four Corners it was dark and the town seemed deserted as everyone sought shelter from the fierce storm. Vin’s fever was raging and he was delirious. Slumping over his horse’s neck, he wasn’t even aware that he was now riding through the empty streets instead of the open countryside. Peso had brought Vin straight to the livery as would have been his normal routine and it was just inside its open double doors that Vin finally lost consciousness completely and slid down Peso’s side to the straw-covered dirt of the livery floor. The torrential rain continued to fall in slanting sheets lit by an occasional flash of lightning. As the hollow boom of thunder rolled through the doors and over the still form, Peso stood quietly, an uneasy guard over the fallen man.

J. D. Dunne was in one of the back stalls, checking on a small cut he had noticed on his horse’s fetlock earlier in the day. Tiny, the burly liveryman, had spoken to him briefly before he left for the evening. He had asked J.D. to make sure the lanterns were out and the doors shut. J.D. realized he was tired too and was considering turning in for the night as soon as he finished when he heard the horse and rider come in. He leaned out of the enclosure and peered into the open area, watching in shock as Vin collapsed from Peso’s saddle to the ground.

After checking Vin briefly and realizing that he couldn’t help his unconscious friend on his own, he sped to the saloon where the others were sipping their drinks and idly playing cards while waiting out the storm. At J. D.’s breathless explanation, boredom had quickly turned to fear and instant action as Chris and Buck followed J. D. back to the livery through the muddy street and saw Vin’s unconscious form sprawled beside his horse. Chris knelt beside him, quickly and skillfully running his hands over the tracker, checking for any obvious wounds. He was relieved at first when there was no blood but the relief turned to alarm when he realized that Vin was burning up with fever. Chris lifted Vin off the dirt floor with an arm behind his knees and the other steadying his back as he hastily carried him across the street and up the stairs to the clinic where Nathan, Josiah and Ezra had rushed ahead to get a bed and supplies ready. The normally self-sufficient man seemed uncharacteristically helpless with his head resting limply against Chris’s shoulder as he navigated the steep stairs.

Vin’s coat, boots and sopping clothing were removed and he was dried off with rough towels, then placed in the bed under all the blankets Nathan had. He was in and out of consciousness for several hours, alternately shivering violently and fighting against the hands that helped him. Eventually the warmth from the blankets and the heated bricks wrapped in towels at the foot of the bed soothed his chills. Chris held him up briefly and he managed to sip a little water, then he drank a cup of weak medicinal tea without really being aware of anything other than the familiar soothing voice that urged him to do so.

Chris Larabee sat hunched forward in the sturdy wooden chair beside Vin’s bed with his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees. Now that he knew Vin would be fine after the fever had completely gone and he got some rest, he was almost angry with the younger man for scaring the hell out of him. He intended to ask Vin what he had been thinking to make the trip to Ridge City and back in one day. It was a hard ride one way and Vin had assured him that he would spend the night before heading back early the next morning. As he thought about how loud he was going to yell at his friend and exactly what epithets to use on him, Vin stirred a bit and slowly opened his eyes.

"Chris?"

"I’m right here, Vin."

Chris moved his chair closer to the bed and gently pushed Vin’s damp hair away from his pale face. He was struck once again with how young Vin really was. The hard life he had led, always on his own until he joined the Seven, had matured him beyond his years. Vin looked up into Chris’s eyes with apparent confusion.

"What . . ."

"Shhh. Lay still. You musta got sick while you were ridin’ back to town. You made it to the livery and passed out. J. D. found you and we brought you to Nathan."

"I’m at Nathan’s? Where is he?"

"Nathan and the others have all gone to rest. You finally took a turn for the better about an hour ago. Your fever broke and you’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep."

Vin considered this explanation for a few moments, trying to think back to exactly when he had started to feel so sick. He remembered the trip out, his decision not to remain in Ridge City any longer than was absolutely necessary and the beginning of the return leg. The intense pain that had blossomed behind his eyes, the nausea and then the grip of the fever as it took him. His only coherent thoughts were that if he kept going and made it back to town, he’d get help and be all right. Thoughts of getting back to town--and to Chris--had kept him moving. Then another thought hit him suddenly.

"Peso?"

"J.D. seen to him. It ain’t the horse we were worried about—it was the rider. Peso shoulda had sense enough to look for some shelter from one of the worst storms I’ve ever seen even if you didn’t. ‘Course, he mighta just been too tired after makin’ that trip in one day ‘stead of two like you were supposed to do."

In response to the stern scolding from Chris, Vin pressed his hands against the bed to lift himself upright and reply. As he pushed farther up onto the pillows, the blanket fell away to his waist. He looked down in surprise as he realized that he wasn’t wearing a stitch.

"Where’s my clothes?"

"Dryin’ out. You were soaked."

"Uh, who took ‘em off?"

Chris settled back into his chair, crossing his arms and relaxing a bit. He grinned mischievously at the younger man who looked very vulnerable clutching the blankets to him and looking around worriedly for his garments. Vin Tanner was a tough hombre even by frontier standards, but he could also be boyishly shy.

"I did."

"Aw, hell! And I ‘spose everybody else was standin’ around in here too?"

"Yep. You ain’t go no secrets from nobody now, pard."

Vin blushed a bit and lowered his head to look down at the hands that still clutched the blankets to him. He certainly didn’t mind that Chris had taken his clothes off but the thought of everybody else looking at him while he was unconscious and helpless was embarrassing.

"Well, let me have my things and I’ll get dressed and outta here."

"Nope."

Vin glanced at Chris to see if he was being serious this time. To his dismay, the gunslinger’s jaw was now set in a determined line and the teasing tone was gone from his voice.

"But I feel better now. I want to go to my own bed."

"Oh, you’re gonna go to another bed. Mine."

"Aww, Chris . . . "

"Vin, you might remember that a few weeks ago after that little dust-up we had with the Sheriff and those other idiots from Eagle Bend you insisted on bullyin’ me and wet nursin’ me till I got completely better. You might also recall that I promised to pay you back for makin’ me drink that damm medicine."

Vin Tanner was squirming now as the memory of just how tough he had been to get Chris taken care of when he was obviously hurting from the beating he had taken. Chris had refused to disturb Nathan’s reunion with his father, so Vin had forced the issue and taken charge. And he knew that without a doubt he was really in for it.

"Dammit, Larabee! I can just stay here with Nathan till my clothes are dry and then go to . . . "

"Not a chance, pard. I’ve already told Nathan that he’d never be able to watch you with havin’ to keep an eye on two women about to have babies at the same time and that I’d take over and make sure you got some rest."

Vin dropped his head in resignation and sighed deeply.

"Give me my clothes and I’ll go peaceful."

"You’re too weak to walk and the pants and shirt you were wearin’ are still wet. It’ll probably take two days for your boots to dry out. Hell, it’ll probably be at least a week before you can wear that damm coat again. I’ll wrap some blankets around you and carry you over."

Vin’s head snapped back up at that and his blue eyes flashed fire at the determined gunslinger. "The hell you will! I ain’t bein’ carried like a baby and I surely ain’t goin’ nowhere naked!"

Vin Tanner might have been younger and lacking the deadly reputation that Chris Larabee had earned over the years, but he was the only man still alive who could-and would-stand up to him. The problem was that Vin knew, at least in this particular situation, that Chris was right. He was still too weak to do much of anything and he knew he couldn’t actually fight the older man and win.

Chris sighed in exasperation. He was getting too old for this. Running his hand through his short, blonde hair in a familiar gesture of frustration, he stood up to stretch his cramped muscles.

"Vin, it’s four o’clock in the mornin’. The saloons are closed and the streets are empty. Nobody will see nothin’. I’ll have you settled in my room and in bed within ten minutes."

Vin, sensing defeat, gave in reluctantly and mumbled his agreement. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand before Chris could get to him. The dizziness hit him hard and he almost went to his knees before Chris caught him. He steadied Vin against him and grabbed one of the blankets from the bed. Wrapping the blanket securely around him, he bent over and scooped Vin into his arms as though he were picking up Billy Travis to take him to his bedroom after he had stayed awake too long.

Vin accepted defeat ungracefully and merely turned his head against Chris’s shoulder as Chris negotiated both sets of stairs and the dark street with a little difficulty. He was able to get Vin to his rented room on the second floor of the boarding house without seeing anyone or being seen. Chris deposited his unhappy burden on the bed and turned to close and lock the door.

Vin immediately pushed the blanket down and unwound it from his legs. He was a little pissed at the turn of events. He couldn’t stand to be sick and helpless. And, if he really cared to admit it, he was more than a bit apprehensive. Chris Larabee did not make idle threats.

"Go on ahead and get into bed, Vin."

"What are you goin’ to do?"

Ignoring the suspicious tone in Vin’s voice, Chris removed his jacket and gunbelt and hung them on the back of the chair in the corner of his room. Then he sat down wearily and took off his boots and socks. Standing, he began to unbutton his shirt.

"I’m going to go to bed and get some sleep. I’ll go down later this mornin’ and get you some dry clothes from your wagon and both of us somethin’ to eat from Mrs. Bridger. Then I’ll check in with Nathan and the others and get your boots and saddlebags. And your guns. But right now, I’m a little tired."

Vin moved off the bed long enough to pull the sheet and quilt down and then slid back in. Chris finished undressing and then added the extra blanket to Vin’s side of the bed before he threw back the covers, pushed the pillows into a more comfortable arrangement and settled back with a sigh. In spite of everything, both men were asleep almost instantly.

*******

Vin didn’t know if it was the warmth of the sunlight flooding the room or the aroma of bacon, hot biscuits and coffee that woke him. He heard the door being pushed softly closed and the clanking of plates as Chris balanced a tray covered by a brightly-colored cloth in one hand and a pot of coffee in the other. As Vin sat up, he saw Chris set the tray down on the top of the bureau and look around for something to put under the coffeepot. Finally, he took the cloth that covered the food, folded it and set the pot on top of that. He’d been using a couple of napkins to shield his hand from the hot handle of the still steaming pot and he placed those on the tray with the assortment of plates and cutlery. He turned and smiled at Vin’s soft whistle of appreciation.

"Hungry?"

"Yeah, I am. Have you had anything yet?"

"I ate enough for both of us while Mrs. Bridger fixed all this for you. After you’ve had some breakfast I’ll take the tray back downstairs and go get your clothes."

Vin ate his fill from the huge plates of food with a surprisingly hearty appetite, sharing the coffee with Chris. When they had finished, Chris piled the dishes and coffee cups back on the tray to return them to the kitchen. Vin wanted to get up immediately but Chris ordered him to stay put. He assured Vin once again that he would be back as soon as he retrieved some clothing from Vin’s wagon. Besides, Chris pointed out that if he had still been at Nathan’s he wouldn’t have been allowed to get up for days instead of just waiting until this afternoon. Chris closed the door firmly behind him, ending the argument. In spite of all his efforts to stay alert and watchful until Chris returned, and against his better judgment, Vin was deeply asleep again within minutes.

* *******

Vin woke slowly from the restful, healing slumber he had fallen into again after his meal. He had still been tired and weak in the aftermath of the fever and not even two cups of Mrs. Bridger’s strong coffee had kept him awake. It was late in the day, yesterday’s turbulent weather only a memory now as the sun was moving further away towards the horizon across the cloudless sky and the room was growing dimmer. Shadows fell in sharp relief across the wooden floor of the sparsely furnished room and the light breeze that blew the curtains slightly open was cool and pleasant. Vin moved lazily to stretch and, to his surprise, found that his arms were resting on the pillows above his head, pulled apart and held immobile against the iron bars of the headboard. He glanced upward in surprise to find each wrist was secured to one of the bars by a colorful bandanna. His bandannas.

"Oh, shit!"

"You’re awake."

Vin turned his head sharply to find that Chris was sitting by one of the windows calmly reading. He looked as if he had been settled in there for quite some time. The faint aroma of one of the cheroots that he favored still hung in the air and an almost untouched bottle of whiskey and an empty shot glass stood on the table beside the lamp. Chris abruptly closed the heavy leather bound book with a loud snap that made Vin jump.

"Somethin’ wrong, Vin?"

"All right, Chris. You’ve made your point. Now untie me." The low raspy growl should have been intimidating but Chris Larabee wasn’t buying it.

Chris laid his book on the table, stood slowly and walked over beside the bed to look down at his captive friend. He smiled at Vin’s discomfiture and reaching above his head, tugged gently at one of the bandannas, testing the knot.

"Now why would I want to do that?"

"Uh, come on Chris. You’re makin’ me nervous."

"Ain’t all I’m gonna make you."

As Vin watched in reluctant fascination, Chris began removing his clothes. He’d already discarded his boots and socks. He was only wearing a pair of black pants and a light gray shirt. The buttons of the shirt were undone slowly, as were the buttons that held his pants together over his already straining erection. In spite of his growing concern at exactly what Chris’s intentions were, Vin admired the hard body that was slowly revealed to him. The lean muscular arms, broad shoulders, flat stomach and slender waist. The strong legs. Chris laid his clothes over the chair and Vin appreciated the view from behind and then in profile as well. The man was graceful in his movements, not the least bit self-conscious even nude. He approached the bed with a smile. This was a genuine smile that lit his handsome features and seemed to be reserved only for Vin. Chris pulled the blanket gently away and let it slide slowly to the floor. To Vin’s dismay, he realized that he’d fallen asleep before pulling on any of the clothes that Chris had brought to him earlier. Not only were his wrists secured above his head leaving him completely helpless but he was still naked as well.

Taking full advantage of his lover’s predicament, Chris slid gracefully onto the bed and straddled the younger man’s waist, his strong thighs holding Vin immobile. He moved his hands appreciatively over Vin’s well-muscled arms and chest. Entwining his fingers in the tracker’s long hair, which was spread out over the pillow, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Vin’s. Gently at first, almost tentatively, he began to press their mouths together. Vin could smell the sharp bite of whiskey, the smoky aroma of the cheroot and a slight hint of soap where Chris had shaved earlier. It was a pleasant combination and Vin savored it. Chris’s tongue emerged to trace Vin’s full lips before demanding-and gaining-entrance to his mouth.

The kiss intensified and deepened as Chris explored Vin’s mouth thoroughly but gently, twining his tongue around the other man’s. Vin temporarily forgot his apprehension and returned Chris’s passion with his own equally passionate response. Both men began softly moaning as their arousal grew. Chris slid a little lower on Vin’s body and began to rock back and forth in rhythm with the play of his tongue in Vin’s mouth. Vin started to move his hips in a counter rhythm, one man’s hardness encouraging the other’s.

Chris reluctantly moved away from Vin’s lips only to drop his head lower and pay attention to the curve of his neck where it met his shoulder. He kissed, licked and sucked the sweet flesh gently before moving down Vin’s chest to circle a nipple with his tongue before pressing it lightly between his teeth. First the left, then the right nipple grew hard and sensitive under his attack. Vin arched into the wet heat of Chris’s mouth then tried to pull away as the sensation thrilled his senses.

"Untie me . . . please . . ."

Without acknowledging Vin’s whispered, breathless plea, Chris slid even lower, planting light teasing kisses in a burning trail down Vin’s stomach only to stop before he reached what Vin had hoped was his destination. Instead, he began to run his hands over Vin’s legs, slowly pulling them apart and moving between them, gliding his long sensual fingers along the sharpshooter’s sensitive inner thighs.

The gunslinger’s hands continued to move over Vin’s legs, then upward to his flat stomach again. He flattened his palms and smoothed over Vin’s lean hips. Chris touched Vin’s expectant body everywhere except the one place that ached for him. Vin began to moan in earnest now, still moving his hips upward and back, a few drops of liquid seeping from his hard cock. He strained against his bonds, twisting and turning, trying to free his hands. The knotted material held firm.

"Let me loose, dammit!"

Chris seemed oblivious to Vin’s desperate order to release him. Just when Vin thought he couldn’t stand to wait any longer, Chris wrapped lithe fingers around Vin’s aching length. He began to stroke his shaft gently, his fingers tracing the extended veins and the silky smooth head as his other hand lowered to cup Vin’s balls. Chris then rubbed his thumb over the head of Vin’s cock, massaging in the slight moisture there. Vin’s hips continued to rock up to meet Chris’s caressing fingers then back down against the bed.

Vin was moaning wordlessly and gasping for breath now as Chris continued to stroke him just enough to keep him fully excited and ready but not to the point of no return. Keeping one hand on Vin’s cock, Chris moved back up to claim his mouth again, muffling his groans and pleas under his insistent lips and tongue and stilling the movements of Vin’s head as he shifted restlessly from side to side. Chris brought him almost to his release again and again before slowing his movements and letting him calm a bit. Vin had been to the edge so many times that he had lost count. He was almost sobbing as he begged Chris to finish him. With his hand, with his mouth, however he wanted to. Anything. Just to end the intense pleasure that had become such sweet agony.

"Chris . . . please!"

Vin was desperate to reach his climax. He didn’t think he had ever been this excited before. The sensation of having his wrists helplessly bound to the iron headboard increased his sensitivity a thousand times. Every touch of Chris’s hands and mouth, the slightest pressure of his lips or his tongue anywhere on his body, all combined to generate such heat and excitement that he thought he would surely pass out from the intensity of the pleasure.

At last Chris began to take pity at Vin’s obvious discomfort. Vin wasn’t the only one who needed release. His own cock was rock hard as well and he wanted Vin’s torture to end. When he paused his ministrations long enough to reach for the small bottle of oil beside the bed, Vin groaned in bitter disappointment.

"Easy, pard. Just another minute."

Still sitting astride Vin, Chris poured only a small amount of oil into his palm and replaced the bottle on the top of the table. He rubbed his hands together, then gently slicked Vin’s length before oiling himself. Knowing that Vin badly needed to come, he again stretched his body on top of his lover. His cock moved easily against and beside Vin’s and they began a rhythm that was slow and steady at first. The lubricant made the movements easier for both men and they increased the pace as they both anticipated their final release. Chris lowered his mouth to Vin’s again and the kiss became almost brutal as both men approached the edge. Vin was giving as good as he got, almost taking what little breath Chris had away. Moments later, Vin’s whole body stiffened and shuddered as he came. Even in the throes of his own intense orgasm, Vin continued to move up against Chris and the sensation of Vin thrusting against him as he came brought Chris to completion as well. He collapsed against Vin for several minutes, not even aware that he was whispering Vin’s name over and over.

As he recovered his senses, he realized he needed to move. His dead weight might be hurting Vin or pulling on his bound wrists. Pushing away from Vin, he rolled over beside him and tried to catch his breath. Vin was also attempting to steady his breathing and bring it back to normal. He felt that it would take quite a while for his pounding heart to resume it’s slow, steady beat.

"Vin? You all right?"

"I will be when you untie me."

Chris made the enormous effort required to sit up and reach for the knotted cloth holding Vin’s wrists against the iron bars. As he worked with the material that Vin had pulled even tighter, he was struck by a thought.

"Vin, you know that this means we’re even."

The statement was met with silence and he paused in his attempt to loosen the knots that had held his victim.

"We’re even now, right?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Right."

Chris hesitated once again, just for a moment, then shrugged and continued working with the stubborn bandanna on Vin’s right wrist. Finally, the material gave and he removed the now tangled cloth and checked Vin’s arm for any apparent injuries. The flesh was reddened a bit but no bruising was apparent. He moved over and started untying the bandanna on the other side. It came loose a bit more easily and he released Vin’s arm, bringing it down to his side.

Chris then rolled off the bed to his feet, taking both pieces of cloth with him. He went to the washstand, poured water into the basin to wet the bandannas before wringing them out and returning to the bed to hand one to Vin. Both men used the damp cloths to clean up before Chris discarded them beside the bed as he nudged Vin to move over and make room for him.

Vin moved over and turned on his side to accommodate Chris and the companionable silence stretched for long moments as both men evened their breathing and began to relax. As the sun slid lower, the shadows in the room grew longer and darkened. The air began to cool even more and Vin sat up and retrieved the blanket Chris had left on the floor. He lay back and covered both of them, moving against Chris and resting his head on his arm.

The exertions of the last hour combined with the worry and strain of sitting with Vin while he was fighting the fever of the previous night had taken a toll on Chris and he was asleep within a few moments. Vin remained awake a while longer, still recovering from the intensity of the encounter. He watched Chris slip away and noted his deep, easy breathing as he relaxed completely. Just before he joined him in another much needed night’s rest, Vin softly spoke to himself, "We ain’t quite even just yet, cowboy . . . "

END