In the Wake of Anticipation

Disclaimer: Not mine, no money.

There was a tension in the saloon. It thrummed in the air the way insects buzzed on a day that was hot and oppressive. Vin resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck where it made the hair prickle and stand up.

Pretty sure I know where it’s comin’ from, he thought, flicking a glance to his right, at Chris slouched back in his chair, hands folded beneath his chin, eyes narrowed, then across the table from him, where Ezra sat with his back to the corner, shuffling the cards and wearing what Vin couldn’t help but think of as his cat-in-the-cream smile.

When he’d come into the saloon just about dusk, that tension had been even heavier than it was now. He’d been out on the boardwalk outside the saloon, just watching the world go by, and he hadn’t heard them arguing, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t. Chris had been at one table, Ezra at another, ignoring each other to beat Hell, except for the dark looks Chris kept shooting at Ezra from across the room.

They do seem ta tangle every now ‘n’ again, Vin thought. Most times, I’d even say they like it…or maybe that they need it.

So he wasn’t surprised that Ezra and Chris had fought over something; he wasn’t even surprised that there were two glasses at Chris’s table, because they couldn’t have fought at separate tables, not without the sound carrying through the swinging doors.

No, he reflected, what had him wondering was that Chris had actually joined the card game. Usually, if Ezra had put him in a foul temper, Chris would just stare hard and try to intimidate Ezra, shake his game.

He wasn’t doing that this evening… well, not really. He was watching Ezra real close, from what Vin could tell by sidelong glances, but the anger he expected didn’t seem to be there.

Must not’ve been real serious then, he thought, and let out a breath. That’s good.

It still didn’t explain what he’d found when he’d come into the saloon, though. If it was enough to keep ‘em at separate tables, should have been enough to keep Chris from joinin’ the game. Vin tapped a finger thoughtfully against the tabletop. Something wasn’t quite adding up.

The cards slid against each other with a faint hiss of sound. “Ante up, gentlemen,” Ezra said, gold tooth flashing in the lantern-light. Vin threw out a chip to land on the green baize in the center of the table with the others’, and Ezra dealt out the next hand.

Vin waited until Ezra had laid the deck aside before picking up his hand, then tried hard to hide his wince. He didn’t think Ezra was cheating – was pretty sure he wasn’t, all things told – but that didn’t mean Ezra couldn’t read his tells like a book. Best to treat Ezra at the poker table like he would some other tracker, and just cover his trail as best he could.

“Aw, Ez, these cards ain’t worth what they’re printed on.”

Vin felt his lips twitch. ‘Parently Buck ain’t learnt that lesson yet, he thought.

“The luck of the draw, I’m afraid, Mister Wilmington,” Ezra replied, dimples flashing briefly. He took a sip of his whiskey, watching them over the rim of the glass. It was only five of them playing; JD was at the jail, making sure that the would-be stagecoach robbers they had caught earlier that week stayed behind bars until Judge Travis arrived, and Josiah had gone to bed hours ago, favoring the leg that had been wounded during their capture.

Vin followed his gaze, wondering what he saw. This would probably be Nathan’s last hand, he decided. It wasn’t that he’d lost a lot, it was just that it was gettin’ late, and Nathan liked to be up and about early…

Ezra lowered his glass, but still kept hold of it, long fingers arching over the top, one tapping the rim.

Chris moved next to him, drawing Vin’s attention. He’d shifted position some, leaning forward now, but his eyes were still on Ezra rather than his cards, mouth curling up in a grin that seemed to promise all kinds of trouble.

Puzzled, Vin flicked a glance back at Ezra, found that he’d picked up the deck again, squaring it easily in his hands. “What’s your pleasure?” he drawled.

Again, he had the sense of movement from Chris beside him, but he ignored it in favor of hopefully getting a better hand. “Two,” he said, tossing his losers. Ezra’s hands flashed over the deck and Vin picked up the two new cards. They weren’t much of an improvement.

“Mister Larabee?”

“One.” Chris’s voice sounded rough, as it had all evening, but not with that edge that whiskey gave it sometimes.

Ezra’s eyebrows rose, and he grinned wide enough to make his gold tooth flash in the lantern-light. “Well, well.” He dealt the requested card and turned to Buck.

When everyone had gotten their replacement cards, Ezra tipped a bit more whiskey into his glass. “Anyone care for a…” He trailed off as Chris pushed his empty glass forward, still grinning. “Your taste is improving, Mister Larabee,” he commented, taking the glass. He filled it, and pushed it back. Their hands brushed briefly as Chris took his glass again.

Vin felt a sudden surge in the tension surrounding him, and smoothed down the hair prickling at the back of his neck before he even knew he was moving, then snuck a look at the others around the table. Buck and Nathan were intent on their cards, and Chris was studying Ezra over the top of his whiskey glass. Ezra was looking at his cards, too, but that grin was still pulling at the corner of his mouth.

With Chris starin’ at him like that, what’s he got to grin about? Vin wondered, slotting his cards into order. It didn’t improve their chances of winning.

The tension didn’t back down any, but it didn’t get any thicker, either, as they played the hand. Chris won, and pulled the meager pot back toward himself, giving Ezra a wicked little grin as he did. Ezra just arched an eyebrow in response.

As Vin had expected, Nathan swallowed the dregs of his beer and stood. “Time for me to get on t’bed,” he said. “See y’all in the mornin’.”

“Not too early,” Ezra said quickly, and pretended not to notice how his words earned him a look of mock exasperation from everyone present. Nathan returned his empty mug to Inez and waved in response to their chorus of good night.

The tension held steady through the next hand, enough to make Vin keep wanting to smooth down the hair on the back of his neck. Chris kept on watching Ezra across the table, as if trying to throw off his game, but the thing Vin couldn't quite figure was the way Chris's eyes were crinkled at the corners, and that didn't just set right with his idea.

And Ezra… well, if Ezra was bothered at all by Chris's gaze, he didn't show it. He tapped his finger on the rim of his glass and smirked back across the table whenever he caught Chris's eye.

Vin managed to win a hand – though whether it was through his own good luck or Ezra’s lack of attention, he couldn’t say. Ain’t a lot of money, he thought, studying the small pot as he raked it in, but I reckon I can stay in the game another hand or two... maybe one of ‘em will let somethin’ slip so I can figure out what they fought about…

Just then, Buck jerked upright from his lazy slouch with a yelp and set the table to shaking. “Jesus, Chris, what the hell was that for?”

Vin blinked, glass halfway to his mouth. Had Chris just kicked Buck under the table?

“Ain’t it your turn to relieve JD at the jail?” Chris asked, his expression carefully innocent. He took a sip of whiskey, and Ezra made a show of checking his watch.

“Oh, hell,” Buck groaned, and stood. “Why’n’t you remind me earlier?”

Chris shrugged. “Just thought of it.”

“Kid’s gonna give me that whipped puppy dog look for bein’ late,” Buck grumbled as he strode to the door, “I just know it…”

The doors hadn’t stopped swinging behind him when Inez folded the towel she used on the bar. “Señors, I will leave you to lock up as usual,” she called.

“Good night, Señorita,” Ezra replied. They were all treated to her brilliant grin as she disappeared into the back.

“Don’t suppose Buck’s finally wore her down, do you?” Chris asked, looking in the direction she had gone, his tone thoughtful.

“And that they’re sneakin’ kisses out behind the jail?” Ezra replied dryly, lips curled in a grin. “I very much doubt that.” He shuffled and bridged the cards. The snapping sound drew Chris’s gaze away from the back of the bar. For just a moment, he focused entirely on Ezra’s hands, before tearing his eyes away again.

And just like that, Vin knew it wasn’t a fight that had caused the tension he’d walked into earlier, that had been simmering all evening.

He sat back in his chair, looking first at one then the other, not bothering to disguise it any longer. Ain’t what I was expectin’, he thought, but it’s the only thing that makes sense. Snorting at his own lack of observation, he shook his head. Suddenly a lot of other things he’d noticed without really seeing made sense, other times when the air had been simply thick with tension between Chris and Ezra, and he’d just thought it was them having words.

He almost laughed out loud when his earlier thought about them tangling came back to haunt him. Guess they do at that, he thought, and couldn’t contain his grin.

Of course, they noticed.

“Somethin’ funny, Mister Tanner?” Ezra’s voice was controlled, but a hint of impatience bled through.

“Nope.” Vin tossed back the rest of his drink, the one he’d been nursing for the last two hands, and stood to carefully stretch his back. “Just think that maybe there’s some games best kept away from the poker table.” He leveled a stare at Chris, who looked as unrepentant as he’d ever seen. “Like maybe in ya room.”

Then, before either of them could come up with anything to say to that, he strode to the swinging doors and pushed out into the night.

He didn’t go far, just off the boardwalk and into the street, where the dirt muffled his footsteps. Then he snuck around and back up onto the wood planking to wait near the swinging doors.

After only a moment of silence, he heard Chris chuckle softly. “Well, Ezra, you heard him,” he said, and Vin had rarely heard that note of teasing in his voice, and almost never toward Ezra. “Guess we’d better take this somewhere… more private.”

Vin could easily imagine the sly smile that spread over Ezra’s face, even before he spoke. “I believe you are right,” and that was something that Vin had never heard in Ezra’s tone before, something that just kind of vibrated with lust. “What luck that we appear to have closed down the saloon.”

The chairs scraped over the floor as they were pushed back, followed by the hollow thumps of their boots… and then there was a curious silence, interrupted by short breathless sounds. Vin leaned forward until he could peek over the doors.

Chris had Ezra pushed up against the wall near the staircase, kissing him deeply. Ezra’s hands were curled over Chris’s waist, though he clearly was not trying to get away.

Vin shook his head, but he couldn’t quite help the smile curving his lips. He made sure to stomp on the boardwalk as he left for his room at the boarding house.

He wasn’t sure they’d notice, though.

Forest’s Christmas present prompt – “The time Vin essentially told them to get a room.”