Pax

Disclaimer: All characters belong to MGM, Mirisch and Trilogy. Not mine, no money.

Pax

Chris stood just outside the cabin door, leaning against one of the supports for the roof overhang, listening to the night. Crickets chirped, slowly falling quiet as the air grew chill. One of the horses shifted in the corral with a dull thunk of iron-shod hooves against hard-packed dirt and then was still.

He tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants – the only clothing he’d pulled on after rolling from the bed – and took a deep breath, letting the cool air flow through him, around him. His gunbelt hung just inside the barely-open door, weapon ready to hand if necessary, but it didn’t seem like there was trouble about tonight.

Just as well, Chris thought, tilting his head back to study the stars. Not in the mood for it anyway.

Despite all today’s doings – chasing rustlers and the gunfight and the sudden relief afterwards – he’d still woken up after only a few hours of rest, and now he was just marking time until he was tired enough – or maybe cold enough, he thought – to go back to bed.

Knowing there was a warm presence in his bed was almost enough to draw him back, but he knew himself well enough to know it wouldn’t do any good. Trying to keep his own restlessness from waking his bedmate from well-deserved slumber would leave him awake the rest of the night instead, and he’d be surly as a bear tomorrow.

No one deserves that, he thought, lips twitching. Not even him. Best just to wait a little.

As Chris watched the sky, however, that tiny smile faded, and he became aware of a familiar guilt. He blew out a soft breath, not quite a sigh.

It crept upon him all unawares, often when things were quiet again after gunplay; some kind of secret shame that he made it out unscathed when others were dead or wounded. And inevitably, whenever he recognized what he felt – and sometimes even when he didn’t – his thoughts turned to Adam and Sarah.

Took a long, long time to crawl out from under all that grief, he thought, leaning more solidly against the post. Hurt too much for too long to ever really be free of it. But I’m tryin’, Sarah. Finally got myself straightened out and figured that you’d never have wanted me to be so miserable. That was me wantin’ to be miserable, and thinkin’ I was honorin’ your memory somehow.

He shook his head. I ain’t askin’ for permission or forgiveness…. and I ain’t aimin’ to forget you and Adam. Just…it’s been a long while since I felt like this. He makes me feel good… alive, like I ain’t really been in a while… and I missed it.

Even if he riles me beyond sense sometimes. He snorted fondly. More contrary than a mule, that one. But he’s what I want, what I need, and that’s more’n I ever expected again.

Chris closed his eyes as the breeze freshened slightly. He wasn’t fanciful enough anymore to think it was Sarah giving that unasked-for approval. Suppose Ezra might, though. His lips curled a little once again at the thought.

He didn’t flinch when an arm looped around him from behind, hand coming to rest over his heart, having known where the other man was every moment by the faint creak of wooden planks. He covered the long fingers with his own, let his thumb stroke lightly over them. A kiss pressed against his shoulder blade, then the rough glide of a slightly stubbled cheek.

Smile widening, Chris leaned back subtly, relaxing further as a head came to rest against the back of his shoulder.

“Is everything all right?” Even muffled into his shoulder, the words sounded alert.

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes, drinking in the warmth at his back and letting the familiar scent surround him. “Just woke up. Didn’t want to wake you, too.”

“Mmm.” A second hand settled on his hip, a touch so light as to be nearly non-existent. “Especially since you went to such… admirable lengths to effect my exhaustion.”

His grin stretched wider. “Admirable, huh?”

“What else would you have me call it?” came the sly response, the teasing tone softened by another kiss. “And despite how it goes against my nature,” he purred, and the hand on Chris’s hip stirred, moving upward to brush against bare skin, “I’d rather give you all the credit that’s due you.”

Chris couldn’t stop himself; he chuckled softly. “That’s mighty generous of you.”

He thought that the mouth still pressed against his shoulder blade curved into a smile. “I thought so.” The hand that Chris hadn’t captured continued moving, tickling briefly at his navel before resting there, warm against his night-chilled skin.

Chris was willing to let him have the last word, and the night’s cool silence fell around them. He tilted his head back a little and was rewarded by another slow swipe of cheek against his shoulder.

Not often we can have this, Chris thought, and blinked up at the brilliant flecks of the stars. Between protectin’ the town an’ pretendin’ we ain’t more than friends, we don’t much get the chance to just… be. Kinda like it.

After the second shiver – quickly stilled though it was – against his back, Chris straightened away from the post, tightening his grip on the hand over his heart. “All right, back to bed.” His tone, though quiet, brooked no argument.

The sigh gushed hot over his shoulder in counterpoint to the chill of the air. “You do realize that, without us in it, the bed is now no doubt as cool as this fine evening air and it will be some time before it is once more of an hospitable temperature – ”

Grinning, Chris dropped his hand and turned around, pressing his lips against that clever mouth before another word could escape. When he pulled back, it was only far enough to take in some air; their breaths still mingled. “Might be there’s a way we could warm it up quick,” he said, his voice a soft rasp. His fingers teased, stroking the firmly muscled chest, circling one taut nipple.

“Indeed, sir,” and Chris always counted it a victory when he could make the man sound as breathless as he did just then, “I believe you are quite right on that point… as you usually are.”

“If I’m usually right, why do you argue with me so damn much?” His hands smoothed down sleek flesh to curl around narrow hips, and he nudged the other backwards, guiding him through the door.

Inside, the lantern was still turned low, but it put out just enough light for Chris to see the brilliant flash of a grin. “Well, we must keep in practice somehow…”

Chris’s laughter trailed off as nimble fingers danced up his arms. They took a solid grip on his shoulders and pulled him fully into the cabin, then kept on pulling until he bent his head slightly to be kissed, tongues twining. Unwilling to let go, Chris stretched one leg out behind himself, searching blindly for the still-open door and missing

His lungs were straining for air when at last they broke their kiss, but he was content to rest his head against the other’s and listen to their panting breaths.

Chris wasn’t surprised that the other man caught his breath first. “Surely you know that one eagle-eyed glare would stop me from arguing,” he said, one hand slipping down to repay him by flicking over his nipple, still peaked from the chill. “Why do you let me?”

Rearing back to meet the curious green eyes, Chris gave him a wicked grin. “Got an ulterior motive.”

The door swung shut on Ezra’s surprised laughter.