TAKE GOOD CARE OF YOURSELF; YOU BELONG TO ME
(A/N: The title was shamelessly stolen from a sappy song from the 1920's—the lyrics are below.)
On Monday, Chris Larabee frowned when the team met at the Saloon for dinner after the day's work and Vin ordered a double cheese and bacon burger, and gravy fries. His scowl became even deeper when the food arrived and Vin immediately picked off and discarded the lettuce and tomato garnish that accompanied it.
On Tuesday, he glowered when he caught the tail end of a message left on Vin's answering machine, reminding the sharpshooter that he had never returned for a re-check of his lungs after his bout with bronchitis three weeks previously.
On Wednesday, Chris almost had apoplexy when he left the ATF building right behind Vin and saw the sharpshooter jump on his motorcycle and roar out bare-headed. Obviously, the younger man hadn't gotten around to having his helmet repaired; though he'd been promising to have it fixed for a week.
By Thursday, the team leader was thrumming with pent-up tension that nearly erupted when he happened to look out of his fourth floor window just in time to see Vin almost get run over by a office supply delivery truck. The two youngest members of his ATF team were returning from their lunch break. JD crossed at the crosswalk, but Vin had stopped to look at something in a store window and then ran to catch up, ignoring the fact that the light had now turned. A blaring horn startled the sharpshooter into attention, and he gave the driver a sheepish wave. Chris's hand tightened on the stack of receipts accompanying Ezra's expense report, crumpling them to the point that they were all but unreadable. He stayed in his office the rest of the day, snarling at anyone who got too close.
By this time, his cranky behavior had been noted and discussed among his teammates, though all professed to have no idea as to what was causing the foul disposition. Even Vin, normally able to read most of Chris' moods, was baffled by the sudden black frame of mind. Buck tried to talk to Chris, but the team leader simply brushed off his oldest friend, professing to have no idea what Buck was referring to.
Things came to a head on Friday, when Team Seven was sent out to provide back up for a bust planned by Team Four. Chris' team members were not supposed to be anywhere near the main action, but apparently, no one had bothered to inform the suspected dealers of that. When the shooting began, the startled criminals put in their own call for back-up, and within seconds, both ATF teams were caught up in the firestorm. The ATF members were able to quickly subdue or bring down all but one of the gunmen, but his vantage point made him all but invulnerable—at least to a normal attack. What no one, least of all the gunman, expected was for Vin to try out a Tarzan-like move and come swinging down from his own perch to take out the hidden sniper. He landed practically on top of the astounded dealer, taking him down without a shot.
Once Vin was back on the ground, the rest of Team Seven gathered 'round to pat him on the back and congratulate his incredible move—all but his team leader. Chris said nothing, but his posture and facial expression indicated a deep-seated anger that surprised and hurt Vin and puzzled the rest of the men. With an angry hiss, Chris ordered his friends back to the office for de-briefing and paperwork, ignoring the questioning looks as he stalked off without a further word. Buck stared after him, torn between going after him to demand an explanation and staying to offer the now-bewildered sharpshooter some words of comfort. The somewhat subdued group returned to their office, tiptoeing around their team leader's office door for the rest of the day.
Chris had still not made an appearance by the time the gang finished their reports on the case and got ready to leave for the weekend. Buck caught Vin glancing longingly at the door several times throughout the afternoon, but it remained so tightly shut it might as well have been sealed by bricks.
Buck and Vin waited until long after all the others had bid their farewells, but Chris never appeared. Finally, with a resigned sigh, the sharpshooter stood and grabbed his jacket.
"You heading to The Saloon, Vin?" Buck asked, saddened by the younger man's troubled look.
"Nah, I've got some stuff to take care of at home. Think I'll just take it easy tonight. See ya, Buck." With one final, hopeful look at the closed door, Vin boarded the elevator to head for home.
Buck sat in the quiet office for a few more minutes, hoping Chris would appear. He wasn't looking forward to approaching the lion in his den. When Chris still hadn't budged after almost a half-hour had passed, Buck gave a resigned sigh and walked to his team leader's door. He knocked and then pushed it open; knowing it wouldn't be locked. The strength of Chris' personality was all that was ever needed to keep people away when the head of Team Seven was not in the mood to be bothered.
The sight that greeted Buck's eyes surprised him. Instead of the cold rage he was expecting at his unannounced arrival, the look on Chris' face was one of profound sadness and confusion. The angry speech he had prepared died on his lips as he entered and silently took the chair opposite his oldest friend.
"Ready to talk about it, pard?" he asked quietly when his presence went unacknowledged.
"Nothing to talk about, Buck," came the faint reply.
Buck pushed himself forward in the chair until he was leaning against the desk. "Oh, I think there is. Like why you've been a moody SOB these last few days, and why you were so nasty to Vin after the bust, and why you've been hiding in here like a hibernating grizzly bear for the last few hours. Seems to me that's there are quite a few things we can talk about."
"I told you, Buck, it's nothing."
"Well, I think it's something when you snap at all of us all week and then cut Vin down like you did this morning. You could just tell by the look on his face that all he wanted was a word of praise from you, and you just went and hurt that poor boy's feelings."
Buck was startled at the unexpected reaction his words produced. Chris stood so suddenly his desk chair spun away, and he pounded on the desk. "Hurt his feelings? I hurt his feelings? Do you know how dangerous that stunt he pulled was? Clueless ass—he'd damn lucky his feelings are the only things that'r hurt! Do you realize he could have been killed? Do you realize how many times he plays fast and loose with the rules? Always taking chances, always pushing things to their limit!"
Buck held up a placating hand, stunned at the torrent of words. "C'mon, Chris. Junior's maybe a little reckless, but he always manages to land on his feet."
"Always, Buck? Are you willing to bet on that? What happens when the damn fool's luck runs out!?
Buck watched the turmoil in his oldest friend's face. "What's got you so shaken, pard?" he asked quietly. "It ain't like Vin is doing anything different than he's always done. I swear, that boy's half cat, determined to use up every one of his nine lives."
"Well, it has to stop! I can't take it anymore, Buck. I just can't!" Chris practically yelled, dimly aware that he wasn't being reasonable or fair. He turned his back on Buck and stared out of the window, taking deep breaths to calm himself.
Buck was uncharacteristically silent for a long time, and when he spoke, it was with a tentative edge that was rare in his voice. "'Cause you love him, huh?" he said gently.
Chris whirled on him. "What the hell do you mean by that?" he demanded dangerously.
"I mean, that long-haired sharpshooter's gotten under your skin in a way that no one else has in a long time," Buck said calmly, refusing to be intimidated by the look on his friend's face.
The team leader threw up his hands in disgust. "That's ridiculous. I care for all the men under me—you know that!"
Buck shook his head. "But this is more than caring, pard'—this is love, plain and simple."
Chris' look became deadly. "I should shoot you for that, Buck. Christ, you stood up for me at my wedding, or have you forgotten that little fact while you were spinning this ludicrous fantasy of yours?"
Buck remained infuriatingly un-perturbed. "I know, Chris, and I know how much you loved Sarah. I could see it in your eyes every time you looked at her. And what I'm telling you now is that I see that same look in your eyes when you're staring at Vin when you think no one is watching."
Chris clenched his fists, ready to rip the traitorous words from his old friend's very throat, but Buck's next words stopped him cold.
"And what's more important, pard, I see that same look on Junior's face when he looks at you."
Chris went pale as the full meaning of Buck's words hit him. "You mean Vin…? And me…?" he asked hopefully. Then he shook his head, unable to believe it. "No way, Buck. Vin might not be a devil like you with the ladies, but I'd know if he swung the other way."
"Maybe he doesn't usually. Maybe it's just something special between you and Junior," Buck pointed out mildly.
Chris snorted derisively. "Yeah, Chris Larabee, God's gift to confused young men. I can single-handedly turn straight men gay by the sheer force of my magnetic personality."
Buck just shrugged. "Well, I don't know if Vin is ready to play horizontal hockey with you yet or not, but I can tell you this much: he deserves to know how you feel about him."
"I don't even know how I feel about him Buck! How am I supposed to explain it to him? All I know for sure is that I'm ready to throttle him every time I see him doing something that could hurt him or kill him. Like today—my God, do you know what my heart was doing when he played superhero and glided in on top of that gunman? I don't know whether I wanted to hug him or wring his scrawny little neck."
"Then tell him that. Let him know what his carelessness is doing to you, and why."
Chris shook his head. "I might lose him forever if I do that. What if he doesn't feel the same way about me and runs the other way? I couldn't live with that."
Buck stared at him, his expression unwavering. "You still have to tell him. And besides, 'ole Buck might not understand everything in this world, but when it comes to matters of the heart, there's no one smarter than I am. Trust me on this one, okay?"
Chris stood perfectly still, unable to push himself into action. "How do you feel about all this, Buck?" he finally asked; curious about how his oldest friend might react to such a startling revelation. He needn't have worried—Buck's smile was warm and genuine.
"You know, Chris, I know I've got a reputation for being the love 'em and leave 'em type, but it's never dimmed my hope of finding that one someone special. And I don't care what form it takes—when you're lucky enough to find it, it's too precious to ignore or push away." Buck stood and grabbed Chris' coat off the hook on the back of the door. He thrust it at him. "Go, now, before you have time to brood on this. I know Junior was heading home. Talk to him, explain how you feel and see what happens."
Chris found himself following Buck's suggestion without even making the conscious decision to do so. He tried to work through what he might say to Vin on the way to his apartment, but by the time he pulled up in front of the rundown building, he was no closer to finding the words.
His confusion took a back seat to the familiar annoyance that always overtook him when he spent any time in the neighborhood Vin chose to live in. Boarded up windows and abandoned cars marked the street as being one of the least desirable in town, and the noise of distant sirens and other unpleasant sounds filled the air. He parked his car, engaging the locks with the sour realization that they would do little to discourage a determined thief.
He pushed open the outer door of Vin's building, immediately spying one of Vin's young neighbors sitting on the dirty steps.
"Hey, Mr. Chris!"
"Hi, Jamal. What are you doing just sitting here?"
"Vin gave me a dollar to let him know when the pizza guy turns onto our street, but he made me promise to stay inside the building 'til he gets here."
"Well, that sounds like an important job, but why do you have to watch for the pizza man? Won't he just bring the pizza up to Vin's apartment?"
"Nuh-uh! The pizza guys won't come into the building. Vin has to run the money out to their cars, cause they won't even turn them off 'round here," the young boy said matter-of–factly.
Chris felt the slow burn in his gut intensify at the boy's casual words. No doubt about it, this was not the neighborhood he wanted Vin living in. "Well, tell you what Jamal. I've got a surprise planned for Vin, so why don't you just take this money and keep the pizza for yourself," he said, handing the boy a twenty. "And be careful going into the street, you hear me?"
The boy looked from the bill in his hand to the tall man's face, unable to believe his good fortune. "You mean it, Mr. Chris. I can keep the pizza?"
"You bet, Jamal, and keep the change, too. And thanks for helping me surprise Vin."
"Thanks! And I'll be real careful, I promise!"
Chris patted the boy on the head and climbed the many flights to Vin's apartment. He had worked hard to get a lid on his anger on the drive over, but as he climbed, he felt it grow with every step as his mind catalogued all the foolish chances his favorite sharpshooter had taken that week.
With grim determination, he resolved that no matter how Vin felt about him personally, he was going to make sure the young man knew that it was about time he started showing a little more sense of self-preservation, or he was going to face the wrath of his very pissed-off boss.
By the time he reached the landing on Vin's floor, his temper was a force to be reckoned with. It increased exponentially when he noticed that Vin's door was slightly ajar, no doubt to allow Jamal easy access.
With a forceful push, Chris opened the door, his steadily building anger intensifying to a white-hot fury as he took in the sight before him. Vin was balanced precariously on a rickety kitchen chair, wearing nothing but socks, attempting to reach his overhead light fixture. At the sudden sound of the door being thrust open, Vin let out a startled gasp and lost his footing. Chris was next to him in two steps, catching him around the waist as he fell.
The two of them did an awkward dance for a moment and then Chris managed to right them. They both spoke at once.
"Shit, cowboy, you scared me!"
"Dammit, Vin, what were you thinking? You could have fallen and broken your damn-fool neck!" Chris said, grabbing the younger man's upper arms and shaking him.
"Like you'd even give a shit, Larabee," Vin growled, struggling to pull himself away from Chris's body. "You been snappin' and snarlin' at me all week. Probly' be glad to have me stuck in a hospital and outta your way for a while."
Chris' jaw dropped in shock. Glad to have him out of the way? He'd spent the better part of the week doing nothing but worrying himself sick about Vin, and the stubborn idiot didn't even realize it. Well, it was time to set a few things straight.
"Let go a' me!" Vin ground out indignantly, irritated that Chris seemed disinclined to release him.
"Not until we clear up a few things, you pig-headed fool," Chris growled back, tightening his grip on Vin's arm and maneuvering him back toward the sofa.
He sat down heavily, pulling Vin down and over his lap.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Vin roared.
"Just taking advantage of a little God-given opportunity. You think I don't care? Well, maybe you just need a demonstration of exactly how much I do care!" With that, he brought his hand down with a resounding swat on the Vin's jeans-clad backside.
"Have you fucking lost your mind, cowboy?" Vin shrieked once he realized what had happened, putting all his efforts into gaining his release. Unfortunately, the position he was in didn't allow him any leverage.
"Just makin' sure I have your full attention. Now, you ready to do some listening?"
"Listen to what? You planning on telling me why you've been acting like an asshole all week?" Vin demanded, trying harder to set himself free.
"I think I'd watch my tone if I were you. You're in an awfully precarious position to be smarting off to anyone, least of all your boss," Chris growled.
"Fuck you, Larabee, and get your goddamn hands off me!" Vin bit out, but his demand ended in a yelp as Chris smacked him again.
"What did I just tell you about attitude?" Chris demanded, ignoring Vin's pained protest.
Vin went very still; hoping that Chris would loosen his grip so he could make his escape.
"OK, Chris," he said warily, speaking in the soothing tone he would use when calming a particularly dangerous animal. "Just tell me what you want me to do."
Chris wasn't about to let his captive loose and didn't ease his hold at all. "What I want you to do is to start using that brain I assume you keep hidden under all that hair and stop taking such stupid risks."
"You sayin' I'm stupid?" Vin asked in a wounded tone, temporarily forgetting his indignation.
"No, I'm not saying you're stupid!" Chris said, punctuating the sentiment with another stinging swat. "I'm saying some of the choices you make are."
"All right! All right! I make stupid choices. There, are you happy? Now let me up!" Vin pleaded, feeling uncomfortable with both the bizarre situation and his proximity to Chris.
Chris still didn't loosen his hold.
"I don't know, Vin," he said thoughtfully. "Reprimands don't work with you, and lectures go in one ear and out the other. Maybe it's not such a bad idea to use some more traditional methods. I know any lesson I learned over my father's knee stayed with me for a long time."
"Yeah, well, you ain't my father, or hadn't you noticed?" Vin said snidely, determined to regain at least some emotional footing in the conversation.
"Still can't control your smart mouth, huh, Tanner?" Chris said, bringing his hand down hard for another stinging smack.
"Damn it, Chris, you've really gone 'round the bend this time. Did you and Buck get into the loco weed Team 4 confiscated last week?" the younger man gasped, trying again to free himself.
"All right, that's it, Tanner. Now you're really gonna get it." Chris clamped his arm even more firmly across Vin's back and began swatting him in earnest. He spilled out all the worry and frustration he'd felt for his sharpshooter in the past week, emphasizing the scolding with hard smacks, letting his displeasure come through in each one.
"You watch everyone's back but your own! You ride around town on that two-wheeled devil like you've got a death wish! You take better care of your plants than you do yourself!"
"OW!! Chris, stop!" Vin's wriggles became even more pronounced as the burning sensation began to grow. He couldn't believe Chris was actually warming his britches like he was a little kid. Of all the times in the past few months that he'd pictured himself being held by Chris, this was not the image he had dreamed of.
Chris ignored him and lay a few especially hard licks down low. "Maybe this will help you remember your helmet the next time you sit down on your bike," the older man ground out, recalling his anger on Wednesday when Vin had left without it.
Vin howled as Chris' hard hand accentuated every point in his lecture.
"Why are you doin' this, cowboy? You ain't got no right!"
"I'll tell you what gives me the right," Chris ground out, not pausing in the punishment he was delivering. "I love you too much to lose you to your own foolishness!" he shouted.
Chris stopped suddenly, horrified by what he'd just revealed. Buck had told him to let Vin know how he felt, but somehow, Chris didn't think this was quite the way the ladies man had pictured the scene.
Vin had also gone completely still, his harsh breathing the only sound in the now silent room. As soon as he felt Chris loosen his grip, he pushed back off the blonde's thighs and onto his knees, careful to keep his weight off his now-stinging bottom.
"What did you just say, cowboy?" he asked, peering intently at Chris, his voice tight with emotion.
Chris jumped to his feet and ran his hands through his short blond hair, unsure of what to say. He let out a rough chuckle.
"Oh God, Vin, I'm sorry. This wasn't the way I wanted to tell you."
"Tell me what?" Vin demanded, one hand reaching back to absently rub his backside.
Chris took a half step toward Vin, relieved beyond measure that the younger man didn't flinch. Taking a deep breath for courage, and sending a silent prayer heavenward that Buck was right, he gently cupped Vin's cheek and stared deeply into his brimming blue eyes.
"Tell you that I love you, Vin Tanner. I love you more than I ever thought I'd love anyone again, and it tears me up inside every time you're in danger."
Vin's eyes widened almost comically at the heartfelt declaration and a tear slipped down his cheek unnoticed. Chris wiped it away with a callused thumb, waiting breathlessly for some type of reaction.
"You love me?" Vin repeated, sounding dazed, rising to his feet.
Chris nodded, not able to read the emotion in Vin's voice and not trusting himself to speak.
"You love me!" Vin said again, but this time, there was no mistaking the joyful tone or the wide grin forming on his youthful face. Chris found himself grinning back.
"Yes, Vin, I love you—I don't know how it happened and I don't know why, but I know I do." His smile faded as Vin suddenly frowned and stared at his feet. "What is it, Vin—what's wrong?"
"If you love me, how come you've been actin' like an ass all week?" the younger man demanded.
In spite of the sudden lightness in his heart, some of the anger Chris had been feeling returned. "If you ask me, Tanner, I'm not the only one who's been acting like an ass. These past few days, it's like you've gone out of your way to be careless and reckless and it makes me crazy."
Vin opened his mouth to protest but Chris held up his hand to stop him. "I'm not talking just on the job, though I'm still not thrilled with that Super-hero act earlier. I'm talking about all the little ways you neglect yourself."
Vin's frown became a full-blown scowl. "I ain't a kid, Larabee. It ain't your job to take care a' me."
If he was hoping for an apology, none was forthcoming. Instead, Chris merely held his gaze. "I'd like it to be my job," he said softly.
Vin shifted uncomfortably, his warring emotions clear on his face. "I ain't looking for a Daddy, Chris," he said finally. "Never had one and never needed one. Got along fine all by myself."
Chris raised an eyebrow. "There are a few people who might debate that with you, Tanner." Then he grew more serious and added; "I'm not looking for that, either. I just want you to be safe—healthy. And most of all, I want you to be happy."
"If you want me to be happy, why'd ya have to pound on me so hard?" Vin pouted, rubbing again.
"Just trying to pound some sense into you. 'Cause being happy doesn't mean much unless you're healthy and safe, and neither of those things seems to be real important to you. But they are to me, Vin. More important than you'll ever know."
"So what happens now cowboy?"
Chris gave him a bemused grin. "Never got that far ahead in my thinking. I was so afraid you'd punch me in the nose I never let myself imagine what might happen if you didn't. Guess Buck was right."
"Buck?" Vin asked, confused. "What does Bucklin have to do with any of this?"
"Buck is the one who convinced me to come talk to you tonight."
"You mean, you told Buck how you felt before you told me!" Vin looked indignant.
Chris laughed at his expression. "No, actually Buck told me how I was feeling. Seems he picked up on the signs before I ever got a clue."
"And he's okay with it?" the younger man asked tentatively.
Chris nodded, still awed by the generous and accepting spirit of his oldest friend. "Yeah, in fact, he's more than okay. He's says when you're lucky enough to find love twice in a lifetime, you should never turn your back on it."
Vin nodded thoughtfully. "Buck's a smart man." Then he wrapped his arms tightly around himself, as if for protection. "You know, not everybody is gonna be thrilled with this. I mean, I know the rest 'a the boys will probably make their peace with it—JD pretty much goes along with whatever Buck thinks on things, and somehow, I have a feelin' that Josiah, Nathan and Ez are pretty tolerant. But we're ATF agents, Chris, and you're my boss. If the brass gets wind of this, we'll both be out on our asses."
Vin looked so forlorn that Chris found himself reaching for the younger man without even being consciously aware of it, pleased when Vin wrapped his own arms tightly around him.
"We'll deal with it when the time comes," Chris promised fervently.
They were silent for a moment; both caught up in the amazing feeling of holding each other for the first time.
"You really love me," Vin repeated, almost to himself, still unable to believe the surprising turns the evening had taken.
"Yeah, Vin, I do," Chris replied, resting his cheek on Vin's silky hair.
"You know, I've never really been in love before. What if I screw it up?" Vin whispered against Chris' chest.
"Never, Vin?" Chris was surprised that someone with such a gentle heart could have never given it to any one before.
"Not really. I liked a few women, and even looked at a few men, but none of 'em really made me feel anything special. You think there's something wrong with me, Chris?"
"We're not going to screw this up," Chris reassured him firmly. "And the only thing I can see wrong with you is your sense of self-preservation, and we're going to work on that."
Vin leaned back warily. "You mean like we did tonight? 'Cause, I gotta tell you, cowboy, that wasn't much fun for me," he said with another rueful rub to his backside.
"Good," Chris said dryly, "I didn't mean for it to be. I told you, Vin, I'm not looking to play daddy here, but whether we get together or not, I don't think I can just sit back and watch you spin from one potential disaster to another."
Vin scowled. "So what does that mean?"
Chris sighed and sat back down on the sofa, pulling the younger man down next to him. Vin gave an exaggerated wince as his bottom met the cushions, but Chris pretended not to notice. He wrapped his arm around Vin and they sat like that for few moments while the older man gathered his thoughts. Finally, he spoke.
"Vin, I don't know how I can explain this without sounding condescending, and I swear, I'm not trying to. Maybe it's hard for you to understand, since you've never had a father or been a father, but when you love someone, you'll do anything to keep them safe. And part of that is teaching them to keep themselves safe. I told you I hadn't planned on spanking you tonight, and that's the truth. But when I saw you ready to topple off that wobbly chair, I guess those old instincts just came out. I was frightened and angry that you'd be so careless, and all I could think of was making sure you'd never do it again."
"Spanking is for kids, Larabee," Vin pointed out quietly.
Chris snorted. "Try telling my father that—I got my last whipping from him when I was 24 for drunk driving, and believe me, I tried to use that same excuse. Didn't work then and I expect if he thought I deserved it, it wouldn't work now either."
Vin's chin dropped. "You're kidding! Your old man punished you when you were grown up?"
"Well, according to him, I wasn't behaving much like a grown-up, so he figured I didn't deserve to be treated like one. I'm just lucky Buck ran interference for me after…after I lost Sarah and Adam. If my dad had known how deep I'd crawled into a bottle in the months after the funerals, he'd have flown all the way from Indiana to bust my butt."
Vin settled back against the cushions, absorbing the older man's words. The idea that someone—anyone—could actually punish even a younger version of big, bad Chris Larabee stunned him. And what surprised him even more was Chris' matter-of–fact acceptance of it.
Chris noticed the shocked expression on Vin's face and pulled him closer.
"Vin, he did it because he loves me, and I took it because I love him—and I deserved it."
"And you thought I deserved it tonight, huh?" Vin said quietly, a statement more than a question.
"Yeah, Vin, I think you deserved it," the older man said firmly, without a trace of uncertainty. "I think you've needed someone to show you how much they care about you for a long time—and I love you too much to ever be okay with you doing something that's needlessly reckless or dangerous."
"Chris, I'm an ATF agent. Dangerous stuff is part of the job. Does being together mean you're going to ask me to give that up?" Vin asked worriedly.
"No! Of course not!" Chris reassured him quickly. "You're too good at your job to throw it away—and it's too much a part of who you are." He leaned forward, anxious to make the younger man understand. "You know, I hate it when anyone on the team has to go into something dangerous, but I can understand that risk is part of the job. What I can't live with are all those other chances you take that could kill you or hurt you for no reason. God, Vin, I can't imagine what it would be like to lose you in a bust, but I know for a fact I'd go completely crazy if I lost you to something entirely preventable."
"But you were angry today and I was just doing my job!" Vin pointed out.
Chris sighed. "Yeah, you're right, and I'm sorry about that, Vin. Look, I'm not going to argue that your maneuver today was successful, but I also think it was needlessly risky—not to mention the fact that you scared about ten years off of my life. But I'll tell you what—we'll let the higher-ups worry about that one. They'll read the reports from both teams and check the video. After their evaluation, if they think there was a better way to have handled it, you can be sure you'll hear about it—at length—from Travis."
That thought didn't offer Vin much comfort. When he felt it was necessary, AD Travis could deliver a reprimand that would leave his ears burning for days. "Great, more trouble," he muttered.
"Only if and when you have it coming," Chris corrected.
"And who decides when I 'have it coming'? You? I love you, Chris—God, it feels good to say that out loud! But I'm not going to be anyone's little boy."
"I love you, too, and trust me, I don't want a little boy. I want a strong, healthy man. I just want to do what I can to make sure you stay strong and healthy."
"So what does that mean? Are you planning on bustin' on me like you did tonight if I do something you don't like?"
"Well, like I said, Vin, I didn't plan on doing it this time, and I can think of a lot of things I'd rather do with you. But I can't promise that if I see some of the same kind of frustrating behavior I saw this week that I might not be tempted to haul you over my knee again. Especially if I think it worked."
"What the hell do you call 'frustratin' behavior'? Is that gonna be something you decide?" the Texan demanded angrily.
"No, it will be something we decide together," Chris emphasized.
"'We'? I didn't know I was going to get any say in this at all," Vin said sourly.
Chris took both of Vin's shoulders in his hands and stared at the younger man intently, wanting him to understand. "Look, Vin, I want everything between us to be something we both want. I know you're too smart not to know the difference between a necessary risk and a foolish chance. I'm just going to help you clarify the line a bit."
"By heatin' my backside when you think I cross that line?"
"Maybe," the blond agreed. Then he pulled Vin into his arms. "And maybe by makin' you so happy that you'll want to take good care of yourself so you'll be around for a good, long while."
Vin grinned. "A long while? Never been anywhere for very long. I think I like the sound a' that, cowboy."
Vin's blue eyes glowed with so much love that Chris found his own filling up. "As long as you'll have me, Vin," he vowed.
Vin started to settle back contentedly into Chris' arms, trusting the older man to make it all work out, when a thought suddenly occurred to him. He sat up abruptly.
"Shit! The pizza! I can't believe it's taken this long—I hope Jamal didn't come to the door while we were…busy," he said, flushing with embarrassment.
Chris threw back his head and laughed. "Don't worry, Vin. I ran into him downstairs and paid him off to give us a little privacy."
"Privacy, huh? So, what are we going to do with all this privacy?" the younger man teased.
"We'll think of something," Chris said in a lecherous tone.
"Yeah, well, what about dinner? I'm a growin' boy, Larabee. I gotta eat."
"Oh, you'll eat all right, but I'm thinkin' something other than pizza."
"But I like pizza!" Vin complained.
"I do too, but not every day. And while we're on the subject, it wouldn't hurt you to eat a green vegetable once in a while. And maybe drink something other than Coke," the blond continued, warming to the subject. "And you know, doughnuts are not actually considered breakfast food…"
Vin buried his head under Chris's shoulder, letting the older man's lecture wash over him. He had a feeling his life was about to undergo some drastic changes. And somehow, that thought did nothing but make him smile.
THE END
BUTTON UP YOUR OVERCOAT
Listen big boy, now that I've got you made,
Goodness, but I'm afraid, something's going to
happen to you.
Listen big boy, you've got me lookin' how
I would die if I should lose you now.
Button up your overcoat, when the wind is free,
Take good care of yourself, you belong to me.
Oh, eat an apple every day, get to bed by three,
Take good care of yourself, you belong to me.
Be careful crossing streets, ooh ooh, don't eat meat,
Ooh ooh, cut out sweets, ooh ooh, you'll get a pain
And ruin your tum tum.
Keep away from bootleg hooch, when you're on a spree,
Take good care of yourself, you belong to me.
Don't sit on hornet tails, ooh ooh, or on nails,
Ooh ooh, or third rails, ooh ooh, you'll get a pain
And ruin your tum tum.
Oh button up your overcoat, when the wind is free,
Take good care of yourself, you belong to me.
Oh, wear your flannel underwear,
When you climb a tree, take good care of yourself,
You belong to me.
Steer clear of frozen ponds, peroxide blondes,
Stocks and bonds, you'll get a pain
And ruin your bankroll.
Take the spoon out of your cup, when you're
Drinking tea, take good care of yourself,
You belong to me.