Standard disclaimers – don't own, don't profit, don't sue me. Set sometime after Outpouring of Emotion. No slash. No real plot and sort of weird, abrupt end. But it just seemed to keep going and going, so I pulled the plug.
The rustling of sheets, accompanied by the faintest sigh of a whimper, dragged Ezra from a sound sleep. Frowning, he turned over to stare at his bedmate, trying to ascertain if intervention was required. Since Vin had started sleeping in a warm bed, the tracker hadn't been suffering so much backpain, but the last couple of nights he'd been restless for different reasons. Fortunately, a quick pat and a muttered word of comfort usually soothed out the furrowed brow and led Vin into a peaceful slumber.
Last night, however, had required more extensive comfort with the half conscious man burrowing into Ezra's chest and slinging his arm around the gambler's waist, crying silently after the first choked exclamation of denial when the nightmare disrupted his sleep. After his initial shock at waking to find his person being used as a human pillow, Ezra had relaxed into the hold and smoothed his hand over Vin's unruly hair, crooning softly until the soft weeping ceased and sleep once more claimed his distraught friend. Once he was certain that Vin was deeply asleep, Ezra had gently rolled the man back onto his side of the bed, knowing that the shy tracker would be embarrassed to wake up in the arms of a man, no matter how good a friend that man happened to be. Despite an initial reluctance to loosen his hold, along with a few distressed noises, Vin had settled back to a dream free slumber after wrapping his arms around his pillow.
The gambler had been surprised at how quickly Vin had become a fellow devotee of his feather mattress topper, down pillows, freshly laundered sheets and thick, warm quilts, given the Texan's often expressed preference for sleeping in the wilds or his wagon. The tracker had even proved willing to use Ezra's private tub on a regular basis and let the gambler pry his skivvies from him weekly for laundering, just for the privilege of being able to sleep in that heavenly bed. Having burnt Vin's only, extremely threadbare union suit the morning after the Texan had come to him for help with his back the first time, Ezra had gifted him the longjohns he'd originally loaned the Texan as compensation. When the shy, young man had refused to give up the new underwear for laundering at the end of the week, having nothing to wear in its place, Ezra had offered a second new pair to him in exchange. There had been no further arguments, with the two sets in play.
For the first week and a half of the new arrangement, both parties had been very pleased and it was with a certain sense of satisfaction that Ezra had witnessed the change in Vin. With regular deep sleep the tracker had lost some of the weariness that had marred and aged his handsome face, making him look younger and brighter. Pranks had abounded as the tracker's level of mischievousness and energy had also risen, although he tended to avoid playing them on Ezra in case he lost his place in the bed. Besides, he knew that the gambler possessed a wicked sense of humour and the payback would be fearsome. Instead Vin concentrated on Buck, JD, Josiah and sometimes Chris for his high jinks. He left Nathan alone too, figuring that he needed to keep their healer sweet in case of injury. Not that he intended to become a patient of the man's any time soon, especially since he'd found that Ezra was quite knowledgeable in the arts of healing and had a gentler manner about him. There were no lectures or disapproval from the gambler and, unlike Nathan, Ezra had never left him without his clothes. As far as Vin was concerned, it just wasn't right to leave a man without his pants.
Since the tracker retired earlier than the southerner most nights and rose well before him, Ezra had given Vin lessons in lock picking so he could come and go at will. Once, when Vin had ambled into the jail when Ezra was on duty there, the southerner had given Vin lessons on how to pick the locks on the manacles and the jail door. Given the bounty on Vin's curly head, the southerner had decided they would be valuable skills for him and the tracker had proven to be an apt and eager pupil.
On mornings that it was too cold to be up and about early, or nights when there was no gaming opportunities to attract Ezra, the two of them had huddled in the big bed with one of Ezra's books. It would start with a reading lesson for Vin, then Ezra would read aloud until the tracker fell asleep. Glancing down during the reading to see if the tracker was asleep, Ezra would often find himself unable to prevent the fond smile that crossed his face at the look on the Texan's. The blue eyes were so expressive and always showed how he felt about the story being read. Oliver Twist had reduced him to tears, which were hastily wiped away on the sheet. They were in the middle of The Deerslayer by James Fenimore Cooper and both were enjoying it immensely. Ezra planned to gift the book to the young tracker when they were done, so that he could practice his reading privately. The best thing was that there were four more books in the series and Ezra had gotten Mrs Potter to order them all.
"No," gasped Vin, his hand shooting out to first push at Ezra's chest, then to clutch a handful of the gambler's nightshirt. "NO!"
"There now, Vin, it's just a dream. You're safe. Hush now," crooned Ezra, tenderly carding his hands through the tracker's hair, trying to lure him from the nightmare.
"NO! Ya cain't have him," pleaded Vin, not quite awake, yet not asleep either. Dragging himself across the mattress, the Texan huddled into Ezra's arms, pressing his face into his chest and scrabbling his hands over the gambler's back trying to find purchase. "He's ma brother, I need him."
"Who're coming, Vin," whispered Ezra, hoping to get to the bottom of his young friend's night terrors. "Who are they after?"
"Snatchers," whimpered Vin, shuddering, "They's coming fer ya n' there's nuthin' I can do. No, no, ya cain't have him. No, please. Please."
'Snatchers? What in God's name are snatchers?' thought Ezra, as he hugged Vin to his chest, gently rocking them both. Rubbing his hand in soft circles over the tracker's back, he said firmly, "It's just a dream, Vin, we're safe here."
"Tell 'em ta go away. They'll listen ter ya, Ez," muttered Vin, his voice even more hoarse and raspy than usual. "Ya cain't leave me. Who'll take care o' me iffun you's gone?"
Warmth welled up in Ezra at this plea, and he gave Vin an extra tender squeeze before whispering, "I'm not going anywhere, my friend. But why would they listen to me and not you? Who are the snatchers?"
Rubbing his cheek on Ezra's chest as the reassurance calmed him, Vin yawned and mumbled, "The wee folk who come ta take ya when ya's sleepin'. You's got green eyes like 'em, so they'll listen ter ya."
A chuckle broke from Ezra as he realised with relief that Vin was dreaming about some childhood story. Another chuckle floated from him as he realised that Vin was comparing him to the fairies or pixies of folklore. Rubbing his cheek over the top of Vin's head affectionately, Ezra started to sing a lullaby that the cook at one of his uncles' plantation had sung to him after he'd been beaten whilst staying there as a child. He'd always liked the song as it was about horses, but as an adult he could see the darker side of the last verse. Still, it was a pleasant melody, it reminded him of one of the few kind people he'd encountered in his youth and it seemed to work, as Vin's breathing soon settled into the even cadence of sleep. Exhausted, Ezra soon drifted off too.
Vin woke up to find himself in an unprecedented position. He was being held snugly against a hard chest, with the steady thudding of a heartbeat near his ear. Still mostly asleep, he snuggled closer, revelling in the feeling of safety and comfort. Then as he continued to wake, realisation of who he was cuddled up to hit him and he gasped as he tried to extricate himself from Ezra's embrace. Terrified that being found cuddling would mean that he could no longer share the gambler's bed, he desperately tried to move away without waking his friend.
"Mmmm, cherie. Don't be like that now. Come here to me, mon petit," purred Ezra, drawing the tracker closer and throwing his leg over Vin's to trap him. Placing a tender kiss on the Texan's brow, he continued, "There now, Monique, that's better isn't it?"
A strangled squeak emerged from the panicking Texan as he imagined all sorts of compromising activities that could eventuate if he couldn't get free. Giving up on stealth and grabbing hold of his friend's waist, Vin tried to push the gambler away, calling urgently, "Ez, wake up. Ezra, yer better wake up now. I ain't no woman called Monique. Don't be doing nothin' we'll both regret."
Unable to contain his amusement any further, Ezra started to laugh as he ruffled Vin's hair vigorously with both hands and then rolled away from him. Opening his own eyes to see Vin sitting up with wide blue eyes peering out of a mop of hair and gaping like a landed fish just made him laugh harder.
"Dammit, Ez! You was awake the whole time, weren't ya?" After a half hearted attempt at straightening out his hair, he reached out and slapped Ezra on the thigh. "It's not that funny, ya damned coyote."
Ezra tried to rein in his laughter and managed to quieten down to hiccoughing breaths, but then he saw Vin pout and try again to straighten his tangled hair and he snorted before clapping both hands over his mouth.
Seeing his friend's big green eyes dancing with merriment, peering over his hands was too much for Vin. Throwing back the warm covers before knee walking over the bed, he growled, "Think that's funny, do ya? Well, I'll give yer something to really laugh about."
Shaking his head vigorously, Ezra twisted and tried to flip off the bed, but the tracker caught him by the foot and commenced tickling him mercilessly. The southerner shrieked and kicked out at his friend, but Vin merely twisted to capture the other foot under his arm and proceeded to tickle it as well.
Breathless with his giggling, Ezra gasped, "Stop… stop… please. Can't… breathe!"
A solid thumping startled both men into leaping for their weaponry, before they grimaced ruefully when they recognised Buck's voice bellowing on the other side of the door, "EZ! EZ? Ya alright in there? Better answer me, son, or I'm going to break this door down."
Unfortunately, Ezra was still heaving air into his lungs and couldn't answer.
"Ez? I'm coming in now. Don't you shoot me!"
A solid whump made the door shake on its hinges, causing the two on the bed's eyes to widen. Vin nimbly leapt off the bed and ran to open the door, just as Buck was making his second attempt at breaking it down. This resulted in Buck continuing to run on a tilt through the now open door, to trip on the rug and sprawl on the bed, thereby knocking Ezra off the bed and onto the floor. On his way, the southerner hit his head on the arm of his rocking chair before landing ingloriously on his rump.
"Owww!" groaned the gambler miserably, as he lay on his back on the floor feeling the back of his head for blood but finding nothing more than a throbbing bump.
Caught somewhere between hysteria and true contrition, Vin stood by the still open door with his hand on the doorknob and his mouth open in shock at what he'd caused.
Buck was still sprawled over Ezra's bed on his stomach, with the back flap of his faded red union suit wide open, all the activity having obviously proven too much for the buttons.
Distracted from his breakfast downstairs, by all the noise and thuds, Chris had come to investigate. Arriving just in time to see his old friend trying to break down Ezra's door, wearing nothing but his faded red longjohns, Chris yelled, "What in the hell is going on up here?"
Vin jumped and peered around the edge of the door, hiding his underwear clad body from the hallway of spectators, who had gathered due to the early morning ruckus. His hair was still in wild disarray and his face was bright red with embarrassment and left over mirth.
His poker face long gone, the top half of Ezra's head peered over the top of the bed, his face a picture of mortification at seeing Chris, Inez, Rafael and the bar girls, Molly and Fanny, all crowded around his door.
"Awww, hell," moaned the gambler, sinking back down out of sight.
"Buck, ya wanna close the back door there, buddy," suggested Chris, smirking with relief at finding everyone intact, he leaned on the door frame. "I'm not sure that's your best side there."
"I ain't so sure 'bout that," whispered Molly, giggling behind her hand with Fanny, whilst Inez arched her eyebrow and shook her head at them.
With supreme indifference to his state of undress, Buck glanced over his shoulder to issue a retort and finally saw Vin. Smirking salaciously, he winked at the tracker and called, "Now what do we have here? You and Ez hitched up, Vin? That's gonna be a real blow to the ladies of the town. Good thing they've still got ole Buck to keep 'em satisfied."
A faint drawl of 'Good Lord' was heard from the other side of the bed, before a hand reached up to grab a pile of clothes off the rocking chair. Said clothes were then bundled up and sent sailing over the recumbent ladies' man towards Vin with unerring accuracy.
Catching his clothing gratefully, Vin hastily started pulling his pants on, his face aflame as he choked out a barely audible, "Thanks, Ez."
The same slender hand appeared again, this time grabbing one of Buck's ears in a pinch tight enough to elicit a sharp yelp from the man. Ezra's head and shoulders appeared, showing a very stern face and an extreme case of bedhead hair. Leaning in towards his friend, the gambler said in a low, deadly voice, "Not that it's any of your business, Mr Wilmington, but Mr Tanner and I share a bed in a purely platonic, if not fraternal way. It is an arrangement that suits us both, as it gets Mr Tanner out of that draughty wreck of a wagon on these frigid nights, and it means my bed is already warmed by the time I retire."
Squirming against the pain in his ear, Buck grabbed Ezra's wrist with both hands and stammered, "J-Jeez, Ez. I was just funning ya some."
Slowly and deliberately, Ezra twisted Buck's ear a little and spoke with a clear undertone of promised retribution, "I will not tolerate you teasing Mr Tanner about this matter, Mr Wilmington. The boy is shy enough without your licentious innuendos and slurs against his sexual preferences. I am sure that you are familiar with the concept of two male friends sharing a bed purely for the purpose of sleeping, rather than the baser activities that you usually indulge in between the sheets. Now, kindly remove yourself from my bed and my room if you cannot conduct yourself in a gentlemanly manner."
Leaping to his feet as soon as his ear was released from the southerner's vise-like grip, Buck stood rubbing the offended lobe gingerly, looking very much like a chastised child. His lower lip pouting a little, he mumbled, "If this is the thanks I get for being worried 'bout yer, don't think I'll be rushing to help next time."
Snorting with humour, then looking astonished that the crude sound had come from his own person, Ezra stood up and brushed down his nightshirt as though he were wearing his usual fine attire. Seeing that Vin was now clothed in all but his boots, coat and guns but still looked a picture of misery, Ezra sashayed over to the tall Lothario and with sultry eyes and thickened accent drawled, "Why Mr Wilmington, I do declare that ya'll are my hero! Rushing in all this way just to defend little, ole, helpless me. Whatever can I offer ya'll as a reward for such selfless actions?"
Body stiffening in shock, Buck stood frozen as Ezra sidled up to him and snuggled his head under the taller man's chin, running a delicate finger up and down his chest, toying with his chest hair. Nervously, Buck caught the slender hand and pushed it away as he sidestepped and starting backing towards the door, stammering, "N-Now, Ezra. Ain't no call for rewards. I'm just glad yer okay. Think I'll be getting back to Molly now…"
Ezra smiled with satisfaction at hearing Vin snort with laughter at Buck's embarrassment, knowing that he'd eased the younger man's mortification a little with his antics. Glancing at Chris, he was surprised to see a warm look of approval from the gunslinger. His eyes were drawn back to Vin as the tracker edged his way to the bed.
The sound of a hand hitting flesh rang out, along with a high-pitched yelp of pain. Spinning around with a look of betrayed outrage, Buck faced the usually sombre, black clad man, thereby presenting Vin and Ezra with the image of Buck's butt complete with a red hand print on one cheek. Vin gaped at his best friend, stunned by his action, whilst Ezra merely smirked with satisfaction.
"Well, Buck. Gotta expect this sort of treatment if you go around advertising the goods," commented Chris, smirking back at Ezra as he rubbed his stinging hand on his thigh, having smacked one of the still exposed butt cheeks of his oldest friend. The gunslinger had also seen Vin's distress and didn't want his young tracker friend to stop sleeping in the warm bed of the gambler because of Buck's thoughtless comments, so the smack was his form of punishment.
"What the hell's gotten into all o' yer?" cried Buck, hurriedly doing up his flap and then returning his hands to his offended body parts, one to rub his ear and one to rub his rear. "Ain't there enough women to go round?"
"Maybe it is the thing you're always boasting about, Señor Wilmington. What do you call it... animal magnetism," teased Inez, thoroughly amused by the look on the tall man's face. Her remark prompted giggles from the bar girls, smiles from the men and a gob-smacked look of betrayal from Buck.
"My animal magnetism only works on the ladies, Inez! Ain't me sharing a bed with another fella," sniffed Buck, in a highly offended tone.
By now, Vin had moved to stand behind Ezra, who was still standing near the bed. Whilst Vin had his head down, hiding his red face from the people in the hall, Ezra stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at Buck again. The gambler was either ignorant of, or indifferent to, the fact that he was standing in front of several women in just his nightshirt and long johns.
Chris was impressed that the man exuded the same sense of propriety whether full clothed or not. A soft chuckle broke from him, despite his annoyance with Buck, as he remembered the gambler's near naked promenade up the street after his loss to Big Lester Banks. The younger man had no shame.
"Mr Wilmington! What did I just tell you? Mr Tanner and I are doing nothing more than sleeping. What you overheard was just some high spirited jostling, much the same as you and Mr Dunne are constantly engaging in. I'm told it's the sort of thing that brothers indulge in all the time. I hope that I can rely on your discretion in this matter, as I could on the ladies', Chris' and Rafael's before you. Whilst we are doing nothing wrong, you know how the righteous amongst the townsfolk love to twist and misconstrue innocent events into things of a sordid nature. I will not be run out of town because you could not hold your tongue, nor will I allow Mr Tanner to be subjected to anyone's abuse or gossip. Have I made myself clear? I'm waiting, Mr Wilmington," chided Ezra, scowling up at the mustached man.
Vin's head had shot up at hearing Ezra refer to him as a brother, his blue eyes shining with happiness. He'd been terrified that all this fuss would make Ezra reconsider his offer. Looking over at Chris, he shared a speaking look with the older man, where Chris told him that there'd been nothing to worry about and Vin replied that he should have known better. A warm glow filled him at being thought of as family by the kind-hearted gambler and he relaxed into his usual slouch, with a shy smile lingering on his face. Having someone defend him was still a novel experience and he relished the feelings it evoked.
"Aw Ez, ya know I'm just joshing...," demurred the tall man.
"What I know is that you're an inveterate gossip, Mr Wilmington, and I do not want my life to become grist for the mill. Now, I want you to promise me on the grave of your sainted mother that you will not speak of this to anyone. Anyone! Not even JD," demanded the southerner, fixing a gimlet eye on his affable friend.
Taking a deep breath and looking straight at Ezra, Buck said, "I promise, on the grave of my mama, not to tell anyone about you and Vin sharing a bed."
Stretching out a hand, Ezra shook Buck's hand solemnly. Both men looked relieved to have escaped the situation with their friendship intact.
The sight of the two friends, standing in their underwear, with such formal attitudes struck Chris as funny and he started to chuckle again. This set Vin off, which made the girls and Raphael giggle. Ezra merely raised an eyebrow and stated, "This is the reason that I refuse to leave my bed until a civilised hour. Everyone's mad before noon. Now, off with you all so I can return to the comforting arms of Morpheus."
Chris slapped Buck's arm when he saw the amiable man open his mouth to make a ribald comment. Shaking his head, he discouraged any further fuel being added to the banked but not yet dead fire of the gambler's protective ire.
"Yer up now, Ez. Get dressed and come down fer some food," cajoled the tracker, plucking at the southerner's sleeve.
Looking at the big eyes of his chosen brother, Ezra sighed in defeat and nodded before making shooing motions at Chris and Buck.
"See you both downstairs shortly then," called Chris, closing the door behind himself as he pushed Buck ahead of him. "You might as well go get dressed too, pard. Near time for you to relieve Josiah at the jail, ain't it? You want to get some grub under your belt before that."
Grumbling at the loss of good snuggling time, Buck crept back into Molly's room to retrieve his clothes and gun. Chris just chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as he followed Inez and Rafael back downstairs.
Within half an hour, all seven of the peacekeepers were gathered around their usual table, enjoying one of Inez's fine meals, the warmth of the saloon and the companionship of their odd family.