Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: The Magnificent Seven
Challenge/Prompt: comment_fic: Any, any m/m, the language of love is silence requested by brumeier
Word Count: 816
Date Written: 4 June 2018
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
He’s known many men who thought they could accomplish nothing if their mouths were closed. There are gentlemen like Ezra who strive to hide the truth with million-dollar words, and those like Buck and Josiah who always have a tale to tell, often paired with a lesson to depict or a feat over which to brag. Yet like the natives who helped to shape him into the man he’s become, Vin has little use for words beyond what is necessary.
And sometimes words aren’t necessary at all, like now as he quietly swings himself out of Peso’s saddle and onto the ground. His moccasined feet are silent as his mouth as he quickly covers the distance that remains between him and his best friend, the first person who’s felt like home in a very long time.
That’s something else that most white men do not understand: They think a home has to be a house with a bed upon which to sleep and a fireplace over which to cook food. But Vin has known many homes that had no beds or roofs and can make a fire as long as he has two dry sticks to rub together. Home isn’t a place. It’s a feeling and often a person. Wherever a man feels at home, rather it is beside another person or underneath a stretch of big, blue sky is home. His home, Vin’s come to learn over the last several months, is right here next to this long, lean man in black.
He crouches beside him, then kicks out his feet and sits down. Chris is running a blade of grass through his teeth. His keen, green eyes hold a faraway look; Vin wonders if he’s thinking about his son and wife, two people who he knows he can never replace for him and would never try no more than Larabee would try to replace those Vin has lost. He plucks a blade of grass and starts running it through his own fingers.
“I was thinkin’,” Chris muses aloud, “‘bout Texas and what you said.” His eyes flick up to his, and Vin realizes that he’s nervous, something he’s never known Larabee to be before. “You thinkin’ about leavin’ any time soon to clear your name?”
Vin shakes his head without hesitation. “Nope. Told ya it’s waited this long, it can wait longer. ‘Sides I don’t stand much of a chance of actually clearing my name. I go back there, it’ll probably be to fill a coffin.”
Larabee shakes his head. “Not gonna let that happen,” he says simply. “But when you do get ready,” he asks after a moment, his eyes touching Vin’s, “you’ll tell me, won’t you?”
Vin grins, realizing where this conversation has been headed the whole time. “You’ll be the second to know,” he says, “right after me.”
Larabee nods and falls silent again. They watch the sun gradually sink lower, neither speaking a word. They don’t need any more words. Vin’s surprised Chris even felt the need to voice what has been spoken of. If he ever goes back to Texas, he knows Chris has his back. He has his back no matter what comes up, just as Vin has his. Of course they also have the other five men, and they’ll take care of them and help them in any way they can. But what they share is different. What they share is far more than mere brothership. Wherever one of them goes, the other will follow, even if it’s to death, Hell, or both.
The plains are beginning to grow dark below them as Vin moves, interrupting the golden, comfortable silence between them a single time. He scoots closer to Chris and lays his hand on his. Chris glances at him silently and turns his hand without a word. His fingers reach up and entwine with Vin’s. Vin beams.
Yeah, they don’t have any need for words. The true language of love is silence, and when you know and love each other as well as they have come to in the last several months they’ve been working together to protect this little village, words truly are not needed. You already know what the other is thinking.
Vin leans closer still and drops his mouth onto Chris’. Chris throws his head back, answering Vin with a passionate kiss, his tongue slipping silently into the tracker’s mouth as he welcomes him inside of him. The old legends are true, Vin knows. They are of one mind, one soul. He’s finally complete. He’s finally home again, and Chris Larabee is not just that home but that other half of his soul for which he’s been searching so long. He sighs, and Chris swallows the sound it would make. There is no need for words or sounds. They’re home again at last, and this time, neither is going to leave ever again.