DISCLAIMER: Aw, hell! We all know who the boys really belong to. Not me, either. No profit is being made off this story.

RATINGS: R (for sexual thoughts)

WARNINGS: None that I can think of, except this is my first try at a comedy slash story. Bear with me if it falls short of the goal. Also, this is my first post to this list, so howdy and hope to read some more from you guys! Please, again, bear with me if this posting is full of mistakes. I'm still learning the ropes.

NOTES/COMMENTS: Ummmm, none that I can think of. Just my two favorite guys.

SUMMARY: When Chris and Vin decide to take a breather from each other, where do Chris' thoughts wander?

ATF: Dreams of You All Through My Head
by Heart Quest

He asks so little, really. There he is, standing there like I'm gonna get upset with him, wondering how I'm gonna take this request. I don't want to go to the Motorcross, but he does. It's like he's spittin' nails he wants to go so bad. Can't blame him. He ain't been out with the boys for awhile. If I think about it, he's been home with me every single night for the last four months, give or take a week. We go out or we stay home and make passionate love, seems like our time is just that...ours...not his, not mine...ours. So he wants to go to this rally with the guys. I can let him go for a few hours. Won't be like he ain't never gonna come back. He ain't leavin' for a week, just the night out on the town. Probably achin' for some time away. I could use some time off myself, have some hours alone. What the heck? Give each other a breather. "Sure, Vin. Have fun."

He beams at me, like I've given him a present and he's like a kid with a new toy. Hell, Tanner, you don't have to be *that* excited! But I can't help grinnin' at him. "You sure?" he asks. "You're not pissed or anythin'?"

Damn that face of his. Gets me every time. He's so happy he could do the Texas Two-Step right here in my office and yet he's still concerned about my feelings. God love him. I know I do. I wave to the door. "Get the hell out of here and enjoy yourself. Just call me if you run late. I don't want to have to worry about you."

He smiles and his face lights up even brighter. "Thanks, Chris. You're the best!" He starts out the door then stops and turns. "I'll miss ya', ya' know."

"Like hell you will!" I laugh.

He doesn't. "I will, Chris," he says with the utmost sincerity. "Wish you'd come with us. Won't be the same without ya'."

"Naw, Vin. Take some time. I can stand a few hours at the ranch and do some things. You and I ain't joined at the hip, you know." Shit! Now why did I have to paint *that* image for him? He grins and I know what's coming. "Lessen of course..."

I raise my finger at him. "Don't...say it," I warn, but I can't keep the smile from crossing my own lips.

He winks at me. "Love ya', cowboy." And he leaves the office, closing the door after him. I watch through the window and see him jump over to Buck. "I can go!"

I smile. He really *does* ask so little from me. Besides, I have this model plane I've been wanting to put together for a long time. Yeah. Quiet, unbroken focus. No tight Jean-clad ass forcing me to gawk. No pouting lips forcing my mouth to water, just wanting to taste him. No blue eyes that make me weak in the knees. And don't get me started on Vin's crotch. Ain't goin' there. No sir, no how, no way. I look down. Shit. I went there. All right, Larabee, push it back, push it back...waaaayyyy back!

6:00 that night... Home. I stand there at the front door with keys in my hand and a sack in my arms with a six pack of beer and some model glue and a new GQ magazine. Vin's asked me to help him spruce up his wardrobe, wants me to figure out what I want to see him in. Of course as I was looking at the magazine my thoughts focused on what Vin *would* look like in certain slacks and suits and the mental images forced me to go *there* again. Had to hurry and get home. First thing on the agenda is get myself out of these jeans. Suddenly they're just a tad too tight for me. Next thing is take a cold shower and try to regain my focus. After all that's what this night is all about, isn't it? Regaining our focus? Try to find a balance away from each other? Shit. I set the sack on the table and hurry upstairs to the bathroom. One cold shower is just what I need right now.

6:15... Lord, it's gonna be a long night. Something tells me I'm gonna be getting cold and wet again...soon. Never mind. I open the door to the recreation room and start searching for papers to lay on the worktable. But it's the pool table that's caught my eye. Damn. Flashes of memory when Vin and I made sexual innuendoes with the pool cues. Aw hell! Never even got to the model before I'm heading off to the shower again. Hope Vin's having better luck than I am.

6:45... "Insert shaft A into slot B..." Grumble, grumble, grumble. Whose bright idea was it to make model instructions so blasted sexual? Damn. What time is it? Only 6:45? Shit. Three more hours until Vin comes home. I give up. Strip off sweats, step into shower stall. The cold water hits my body. I'm starting to think the model wasn't a good idea.

7:30... Hungry. What's in the fridge? I open the door. Strawberries and whipped cream. I shut my eyes as more images of Vin fill my mind. What that boy can do with whipped cream could frighten cows into drying up. I feel it happening again. Crap. I went there. What was I saying about no distractions?

Step A: Turn on shower faucet. Step B: Step into cold water. Step C: Drown yourself, Larabee.

8:00... Laundry time. Wearing only a robe now, find it faster to strip off lately. Bring out clothes from dryer. Throw them on the couch. Vin's bikini briefs. Vin's cut-off jeans. Damn, his waist is so dang tiny! I knew that, but the clothes make the man! Vin's faded blue jeans. Wait, he's got more than two pair? More bikini briefs. More images. Is it getting hot in here? "Shit, Vin, when you gonna get home, Cowboy?"

I could take care of this problem myself, sure, but fantasizing *about* Vin ain't the same as having the real thing.

Hello, Mister Shower. Remember me?

8:15... I hear the front door open. "Chris? Where the hell are ya'?"

Vin's home? So soon? I throw the robe on and run down the stairs. "Vin? What's wrong? What happened?"

He's in my arms, faster than lightning. He's in one piece. No bandages, no blood, but he's acting like he hasn't seen me in forever. "Couldn't get ya' outta my mind, Chris! Everything I saw reminded me of something you and I did, or just reminded me of you, period! Damn tight jeans! Embarrassed myself ninety percent of the time I was at the Motorcross! All I could think about was you, Cowboy! And if'n ya' don't take me now I'm gonna scream and not from pleasure either!"

I don't wait. His need is mine and we're ripping his clothes off right there in the living room. "Shit, Chris, gotta get y'all warmed up! You're freezing!"

God, if he only knew!


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