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tamingthemuseTitle: Frisky Colts
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: The Magnificent Seven
Character/Pairing: Chris/Vin
Rating: Soft R/M
Challenge: #464: Coltish (6th challenge in a row for tracking purposes.)
Warning(s): Modern!AU
Word Count: 809
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
Chris watches Vin make his way toward him down a hallway lined with open doors. He knows the others are watching. All the other agents except for Buck, JD, Josiah, Nathan, and maybe Ezra tend to forget all about their paperwork whenever the Texan nears. He's heard the whispers, and they run again through his mind as he watches the younger man stroll.
"I heard he's from Texas. They know how to treat a woman right out there."
"He's got better manners than that Southerner."
"They're both Southern. Born and bred."
"I'd like to breed with him."
"Think you could handle him? You know what they say about Texans."
"Oh, yeah."
"I bet he is wild and woolly in the bed."
Mirth dances in Chris' eyes as he idly chews the end of his unlit cigar. He leans in his doorway, waiting for Vin to reach him and remembering many other things he's heard said about the man. He's sexy, coltish, like a wild animal, and just about every damn body in this office wants to try to tame him, but the joke's on them, Chris thinks, shifting his angle and continuing to chew. He already knows there's no taming Vin Tanner. If you want to bed the mustang, you've gotten let him run wild, hard, and free.
A slight noise further down the hallway breaks through Captain Larabee's reverie. He watches as one of the female agents drops a pen, and he notes the way the hungry people watch his mustang lean down to pick up the pen. Another female, not two feet away, drops a clipboard. Again, Vin, always the gentleman, pauses to help her out as well. Chris has considered talking to him about the manners he uses with these women, and men, too, who don't deserve them, but he knows he's just another part of Vin's character.
He won't change the man -- he won't even try --, and that's one of the many things he knows has drawn Vin to him. He could have any one in the city, or in the country, or Hell, probably even in the nation, but he chooses Chris every night. So Chris does his best to ignore the looks that follow his man. He lets them look, knowing full well where Vin will be spending his nights, and his mornings, too. He lets them whisper about him and about them.
"He sure spends a lot of time in the Captain's office. Wonder why?"
"Why do you think? I already told you he's wild and woolly."
"He's a Texan. Of course he's wild!"
"I bet he's broke every rule in the book."
"I'd like to see him break 'em."
"Yeah. You, me, and every woman who sets eyes on him."
Every woman, Chris knows, and most of the men, too, but it doesn't matter. None of the gossip matters. It wouldn't even matter, he tells himself, if they knew the truth. Vin worries about them losing their badges, but Hell, Chris has never known a better reason to lose a badge, a title, or any damn thing else. He'd lose everything; he'd lose anything as long as it wasn't Vin.
Finally, Vin reaches his office, the very last room in the long hallway. Chris steps aside, lets him in, and then grins a little wider as he shuts his door in the faces still peering after Tanner. He turns his back to them, locking the door behind him, and watches as Vin moves to his desk and helps himself to a bottle of water. His mind flashes back to one day at his ranch when Vin, half-naked and with the straps of his overalls hanging down around his lean waist, had taken an impromptu shower in a bucket of water he'd thrown over his head.
He bites harder on his cigar at the memory and almost determines to go ahead and light the thing, rules be damned, but there's something much better to be lit, he realizes, as Vin turns to face him. He's grinning that coy grin of his, his sky blue eyes dancing as Larabee's green ones had while watching him. In this light, with that look, Vin can see why the women compare him to a horse. He is a colt waiting to play and a mustang yearning to be rode. He can't ride him yet -- they still have work to do --, but that doesn't mean they can't play.
He closes the distance between them swiftly. One hand drops his still unlit cigar into his empty ash tray while, with his other, he traces Vin's jawline. His fingernails softly scrape his afternoon stubble. Vin smiles wider and nips at Chris' fingers when they raise to dance across his smiling lips. Chris grins, leans his body into his young partner's, replaces his nails with his own lips, and drives his tongue, and himself, home.
The End
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: The Magnificent Seven
Character/Pairing: Chris/Vin
Rating: Soft R/M
Challenge: #464: Coltish (6th challenge in a row for tracking purposes.)
Warning(s): Modern!AU
Word Count: 809
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
Chris watches Vin make his way toward him down a hallway lined with open doors. He knows the others are watching. All the other agents except for Buck, JD, Josiah, Nathan, and maybe Ezra tend to forget all about their paperwork whenever the Texan nears. He's heard the whispers, and they run again through his mind as he watches the younger man stroll.
"I heard he's from Texas. They know how to treat a woman right out there."
"He's got better manners than that Southerner."
"They're both Southern. Born and bred."
"I'd like to breed with him."
"Think you could handle him? You know what they say about Texans."
"Oh, yeah."
"I bet he is wild and woolly in the bed."
Mirth dances in Chris' eyes as he idly chews the end of his unlit cigar. He leans in his doorway, waiting for Vin to reach him and remembering many other things he's heard said about the man. He's sexy, coltish, like a wild animal, and just about every damn body in this office wants to try to tame him, but the joke's on them, Chris thinks, shifting his angle and continuing to chew. He already knows there's no taming Vin Tanner. If you want to bed the mustang, you've gotten let him run wild, hard, and free.
A slight noise further down the hallway breaks through Captain Larabee's reverie. He watches as one of the female agents drops a pen, and he notes the way the hungry people watch his mustang lean down to pick up the pen. Another female, not two feet away, drops a clipboard. Again, Vin, always the gentleman, pauses to help her out as well. Chris has considered talking to him about the manners he uses with these women, and men, too, who don't deserve them, but he knows he's just another part of Vin's character.
He won't change the man -- he won't even try --, and that's one of the many things he knows has drawn Vin to him. He could have any one in the city, or in the country, or Hell, probably even in the nation, but he chooses Chris every night. So Chris does his best to ignore the looks that follow his man. He lets them look, knowing full well where Vin will be spending his nights, and his mornings, too. He lets them whisper about him and about them.
"He sure spends a lot of time in the Captain's office. Wonder why?"
"Why do you think? I already told you he's wild and woolly."
"He's a Texan. Of course he's wild!"
"I bet he's broke every rule in the book."
"I'd like to see him break 'em."
"Yeah. You, me, and every woman who sets eyes on him."
Every woman, Chris knows, and most of the men, too, but it doesn't matter. None of the gossip matters. It wouldn't even matter, he tells himself, if they knew the truth. Vin worries about them losing their badges, but Hell, Chris has never known a better reason to lose a badge, a title, or any damn thing else. He'd lose everything; he'd lose anything as long as it wasn't Vin.
Finally, Vin reaches his office, the very last room in the long hallway. Chris steps aside, lets him in, and then grins a little wider as he shuts his door in the faces still peering after Tanner. He turns his back to them, locking the door behind him, and watches as Vin moves to his desk and helps himself to a bottle of water. His mind flashes back to one day at his ranch when Vin, half-naked and with the straps of his overalls hanging down around his lean waist, had taken an impromptu shower in a bucket of water he'd thrown over his head.
He bites harder on his cigar at the memory and almost determines to go ahead and light the thing, rules be damned, but there's something much better to be lit, he realizes, as Vin turns to face him. He's grinning that coy grin of his, his sky blue eyes dancing as Larabee's green ones had while watching him. In this light, with that look, Vin can see why the women compare him to a horse. He is a colt waiting to play and a mustang yearning to be rode. He can't ride him yet -- they still have work to do --, but that doesn't mean they can't play.
He closes the distance between them swiftly. One hand drops his still unlit cigar into his empty ash tray while, with his other, he traces Vin's jawline. His fingernails softly scrape his afternoon stubble. Vin smiles wider and nips at Chris' fingers when they raise to dance across his smiling lips. Chris grins, leans his body into his young partner's, replaces his nails with his own lips, and drives his tongue, and himself, home.
The End
