Disclaimer: I don't own Magnificent Seven

A/N: I'm not entirely certain where exactly this came from. Definitely not the norm, but I enjoyed writing it and I have an idea for a longer, Chris/Josiah, that I might eventually write.

Enjoy.


Everything would be so much easier if I could just love Mary like everyone expected me to. Two people who have lost their spouses, perfect together in the eyes of the town. But no matter how perfect together the busybodies think we are it would never work.

I have my own code of honour, one that does mesh with Mary's, a point she made abundantly clear in the matter with the girls from Wicke's Town.

My mother taught all of her children you never turn away anyone who honestly needs help. Mary's blatant disregard of their circumstances, the ease with which she sought to turn them out, helpless and alone rubbed me the wrong way.

I can admit, in the privacy of my mind, that even if Mary and I meshed on a moral level, I probably still wouldn't pursue her. The part of me looking for a long term relationship with a woman has stayed silent in me since Sarah and Adam's murder. Seeking physical release with a woman is one thing, but emotional connection is beyond my want.

Mary and Billy were a pre-made family, both of them ready for me to step in as husband and father but I couldn't do it. Mary would want me to change everything I am, something I am not willing to do. I won't forsake the six men who have become my family, whose friendship dragged me from the darkness. And Billy deserves a father who isn't caught in the past with another child.

No, another wife and child are not what I need. Instead, five men who have become my family and the one who is my partner in every sensed of the word are those I will remain close to.

My enjoyment of the male form has never been a secret to those close to me. Sarah knew well what went on between Buck and I before we met. She wasn't disturbed and accepted Buck into the family like a brother. In private she admitted she was glad Buck and I had shared such intimacy, saying she believed it would make us take better care of each other when we were away from home.

Sarah was always accepting of my lifestyle and choices. I can't help but wonder what she would say about my new partner.

Once, not long after the battle at the Seminole village I couldn't help but wonder if Buck and I would ever rekindle our relationship. We did, one night, and it was as good as I remembered from the time before Sarah. It wasn't until days later I saw the way Buck was looking at Ezra.

I stayed away, letting their relationship grow without my darkness marring any happiness they could find together. My pulling away was about the time Mary started trying to get closer to me. Silence didn't seem to faze her in the least bit and in the end I started ducking into the worn church, seeking sanctuary.

Religion had never been a big thing in my life and any faith had been burned out with the loss of Sarah and Adam.

Josiah never seemed to mind my intrusions into his domain. More often than not he would simply look up from what ever he was working on and nod to me before returning to work.

The church was always cool and dim and oddly soothing to me. It smelled of incense, hot candle wax and sawdust.

As time passed I spent more and more time in the church. I found it relaxing to spend time with Josiah. We rarely talked, though there were times Josiah would ramble as he worked, talking to the air as much as me.

I rarely paid any attention to the words, focusing more on the low rumble of his voice and the way I could almost feel it in my chest.

Buck, with the loyalty he had shown since our first meeting had noticed where I had been spending so much time. Cornering me in the church while Josiah was on patrol he asked questions I couldn't answer in my own mind, let alone to my old friend and lover.

Something had changed between us in the solitude. We had exchanged stories, though Josiah had shied away from mentioning his childhood. Despite finding it hard I managed to tell him about Sarah and Adam.

In the Saloon Josiah would take the seat across from me, booted feet touching mine under the table. In the time that followed I found that I was thinking of Buck's questions more and more. I could almost admit that I cared for Josiah in a way that went beyond the feelings of family that bound us all together.

Everything came to a head after the disaster with Ella. After getting her letter I went out to my cabin, ignoring the blood I could feel trickling from under the bandage. All I really wanted was to get drunk. I stopped long enough to get Pony's bridle off and loosen the saddle girth, all I could do with one arm.

Inside I still had two bottles of rotgut, enough to at least let me get through the next day and a half.

I had gotten one of the bottles uncorked using my teeth when I heard a horse outside. I didn't move, just started making inroads on the bottle.

Roughly a quarter of the whisky was gone when Josiah came in. He dropped his saddle bags to the floor, eyes never leaving mine and I could see the shared anguish he was feeling for me.

I pushed the bottle towards him and he settled into the chair across from me, taking the bottle. It was intimate, the only light in the cabin from a single lantern Josiah had lit.

We demolished the bottle and I stared at the second one, trying to decide if it was worth opening. Josiah's hand curled around my wrist, work-roughened fingers stroking the soft skin on the inside. With his free hand he moved the bottle to the floor and as it disappeared I felt the urge to open it vanish.

I didn't move when Josiah got to his feet and moved to my side. His hands landed on my shoulders, rubbing lightly and against my will I relaxed. Fingers traced my collarbones and without thinking I tipped my head back against the straight back of the chair, willing to give up everything for this man. The soft stroking continued for long minutes before Josiah's hands left my skin.

His hands dropped to the stained bandage on my chest. I winced slightly as he peeled the cloth away from the wound. With competent hands he cleaned the blood away and rewrapped it.

Strong hands tugged me to my feet and I went willingly to his arms. I kept my right arm cradled against my stomach, my left arm sliding around his waist, fingers twisting in Josiah's shirt.

I leaned into him, relaxing when his arms curled around my shoulders, big hands hot on my bare skin.

I don't know how long we stood there, Josiah supporting most of my weight. Josiah's breath was moist warmth on my ear, his beard rough against my neck and I shuddered, finally warm and content for the first time in years.

Lips touched my ear and I shivered pressing closer to his warmth. Kisses traced my jaw line and one of Josiah's hands trailed to the small of my back, fingers spread wide, holding me close.

There was nothing sexual about our first kiss. It was more about comfort, Josiah's mouth soft and loving, saying everything we had never talked about.

We separated with a soft, wet sound and Josiah stepped back, his hands going to the fastenings of my pants. Any other time Josiah's hands so near my manhood would have been arousing but I was in to much pain, physically, mentally and emotionally to become aroused.

I collapsed to the bed under a gentle hand on my shoulder. Left handed I reached out, fingers ruffling through short grey hair as Josiah knelt to remove my boots. I fell back against the narrow mattress, lifting my hips as Josiah stripped my pants off.

Suddenly exhausted I closed my eyes, basking in the warmth provoked by listening to Josiah undress. It had been one of the things I missed, the intimacy of listening to someone you care for preparing for sleep.

Warm hands skimmed up my legs, lingering on my hips before moving higher. One hand cupped the back of my head, the other my right shoulder, steadying my injured side.

I moved with the gentle pushing, settling into the thin mattress on my left side. A pillow was bunched under my head, followed by an arm underneath for added support. Josiah slid in behind me, totally naked, the feel of skin and hair against my back a balm. An arm draped over my waist and biting back a hiss of pain I managed to move my arm enough to curl my fingers around Josiah's wrist, skin warm and alive.

I fell asleep like that, Josiah a living blanket against the demons.

A hand cupping my knee pulled me from my thoughts and I glanced down. Josiah was looking up at me with sleep heavy eyes, his head the only part of him visible in the nest of blankets.

It had been an unusually hot summer night and we had pulled the mattress outside to the porch. The morning however, was chill as ever which is why I hadn't moved far from the warmth of our bed.

"Christopher?"

Raising the blankets I slipped back under, pressing my chilled body against Josiah's warmth. He flinched but drew me closer, tucking the blankets tight around my shoulders.

"Nothing serious Josiah."

It was early enough that I didn't feel seriously inclined to move. A hand settled on my shoulder, tugging and I moved, tucking my face against Josiah's throat. Fingers combing through the short hair on my partner's neck I slid my hand lower, over shoulder and side. I hit a ticklish spot low on one hip and Josiah bucked against me, huffed breath ruffling my hair.

My hand slid lower, over buttocks and thigh. Fingers sliding behind Josiah's knee I pulled. He got my meaning, draping his leg over mine, pinning me closer to him.

I drifted back to sleep, Josiah's heartbeat strong against my chest.