Everything on this page is fiction. Any resemblance or reference to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Fandom: Magnificent Seven
Pairing: Vin/Ezra
Series: Stolen Moments
Number: 3
Episode: Working Girls
Author: Starwinder
Notes: This series could be considered an AU as it presupposes that Vin and Ezra had met before the pilot episode.
For those of you who don't know, while I like the idea of our Ez in a dress, and he did wear it as well as anyone could, I hated the purple thing in Working Girls and that wig. This story reflects that.
Summary: In the aftermath of Wicke's Town, Vin deals with a pissed off gambler.

Stolen Moments #3
by Starwinder

"Of all the thoughtless, insensitive, negligent, inconsiderate, boorish," Ezra Standish ranted aloud, as he stalked angrily across the street and flounced up the steps to the saloon without a thought to his current attire or how he looked.

Without conscious thought, he yanked the skirt of the hideous purple dress up out of his way as he ascended the steps, oblivious to the wolf whistle from a passing cowhand as he inadvertently exposed a very well turned ankle and more than a little calf.

"That I had to wear a dress was bad enough. But it had to be purple! I fucking hate purple!" He barged through the swinging doors to the saloon and headed for the stairs under full steam. "But no! That wasn't enough! They left me there! They just left me there! Not a damned word! No damned carriage!"

"Hey, Baby! How's a bout a kiss?" A drunken teamster made a grab for him.

Ezra turned and decked the man without even pausing in his tirade. "Not one fucking, 'Thank you, Ezra!'" He stomped up the stairs towards his room. "Just put on the fucking dress, Ezra. Sing, Ezra. Start a fucking fight, Ezra!"

He slammed the door to his room, hard enough to shake the windows in the saloon downstairs.

He snatched the wig off his head, snarling as it pulled his hair where it was pinned on. "And this! This piteous excuse for a wig!" He shook it for emphasis. "Looks like a goddamned dead cat!" He slung it towards the dresser.

"The things I do for that man!" He reached back to try and unbutton the neck of the dress, his hands trembling with rage.


Vin Tanner exited the rooming house that he had escorted Lydia to and groaned at the sight of an obviously furious Ezra Standish storming up the street, waving his arms and swearing loudly, still wearing the dress that he had worn to cause the distraction at Wickestown.

"Oh shit!" They had completely forgotten about Ezra in their hasty retreat after Wicke's death.

He had clearly made it back to town without any help, but was also clearly furious about being abandoned.

Somebody needed to calm that storm front before it collided with a certain, upset gunslinger and they ended up with one hell of an explosion. Chris and Ezra were a volatile combination at the best of times. Usually Ezra was the one that defused the explosion or kept it to a minimum but the mood he was in, somebody could end up dead.

Vin set off in pursuit of the raging gambler, entering the saloon just in time to see the teamster hit the floor and Ezra storm on up the stairs.

He winced as the slamming door rattled the saloon windows. Stepping over the fallen man he took the stairs two at a time and was relieved to see that Ezra's door was standing half open having bounced back after being slammed. Apparently Ezra hadn't noticed as he was stomping back and forth in front of the dresser tugging at the offensive wig attached to his head.

He shook it before throwing it aside, snarling something about a dead cat. Then he stopped and stood still, facing away from both the door and the mirror, his head bowed, as slender arms stretched up and back and trembling fingers reached for the buttons at the back of his neck.

Vin slipped silently into the room in time to hear the angry mutter, "The things I do for that man!"

Vin caught his wrists, startling the gambler.

Ezra spun in his grip, one knee coming up to strike a blow between the tracker's legs. It was a simple maneuver, and would have worked well, if Ezra hadn't still been wearing the dress. He got tangled up in the skirts and stumbled.

Vin released his wrists and grabbed for him to keep him from falling and he ended up, clasped in Vin's arms.

Held close against the tracker, staring up at him with startled eyes, Ezra's mind went suddenly blank.

Vin stood him on his feet, steadying him until he caught his balance. He didn't release his grip on the gambler's corseted waist, a part of him marveling at the smallness of it. He'd held Ezra many times but he'd never realized just how slender the man was.

"I 'preciate it, Ez." he said quietly.

"What?" Ezra sounded dazed.

"The things ya do for me. I 'preciate it. Thank you. We couldn't've got Mrs. Travis back without ya."

"I... " Ezra felt the anger draining away. Vin appreciated him. "Thank you," he whispered.

"I didn't do nothin', Ez."

He leaned against the tracker, resting his head on the broad chest. "Yes, you did," he murmured, "You did more than you will ever know."

Vin rested his chin on the top of Ezra's head, rubbing his stubble against the soft hair. He liked Ezra's own hair, his crisp curls. Damned wig looked like a dead cat. After a minute he asked. "Ya want some help getting' out those things?"

Ezra straightened and moved away slightly, "Yes, please. I shall never understand why they put the fastenings on women's clothing on the back." He turned to offer Vin his back so that the tracker could unbutton the dress.

Vin smiled at him and stepped over to close and lock the door before returning to help with the dress.

Ezra watched Vin in the mirror over the dresser, smiling as he saw the tracker turn the lock.

Then Vin was back, nimble fingers undoing the buttons all the way down before pushing the bodice forward off Ezra's shoulders and leaning in close to slide the sleeves down Ezra's arms and off. He left it hanging around Ezra's waist as he leaned in and began planting small kisses across Ezra's ivory shoulders.

Ezra sighed softly, his eyes closing. Maybe purple wasn't such a terrible color after all.

Vin slipped his arms around Ezra from behind, letting his fingers glide up the ribs of the corset to the top where the flesh of Ezra's chest had been pushed up to feign breasts. He tugged the tie of the camisole and slipped his hands beneath it, tweaking Ezra's nipples.

Vin turned them and Ezra's eyes flickered open, drawn to the mirror over the dresser and the erotic scene reflected there. If he didn't know, if he couldn't feel Vin's hands on him, he could swear that the murky reflection was of a man and a woman.

Vin moved them forward and Ezra reached out a hand to steady himself against the dresser, bending forward at the waist.

Vin stepped back slightly, his hands going to Ezra's waist, pushing the gathered dress and the petticoats under it down to puddle around Ezra's feet. He tugged the bloomers down, just enough to expose the rounded cheeks of Ezra's ass.

Stepping back he undid his pants and reached for the hair pomade sitting on the dresser. He slicked up his cock before moving in close again to slip a well oiled finger into the puckered entrance to Ezra's body, twisting it to stretch the muscle.

Eyes locked on the mirror, Ezra watched as Vin prepared him then slowly slid into him.

He whimpered, his eyes locked on the now scantily clad woman reflected in the mirror. He could almost believe... almost.

He dropped his head to rest on the dresser and spread his legs wider, pushing back to meet the tracker's powerful thrusts. He let go of the illusion. It was him that Vin was taking, him that the tracker wanted, not some illusionary woman.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on tightening his muscles whenever Vin thrust in, milking the tracker's cock with his ass, determined to remind his lover of why he returned to him again and again.

"Oh, god! Oh, god! Ez!" Vin cried out, slamming into him one last time as he climaxed. He collapsed over Ezra's back, breathing heavily. After a long moment he slowly straightened.

"Damn but you're good." He murmured, as his hands trailed over Ezra's back, gently caressing.

He let his cock slip out of Ezra slowly then silently offered his support as Ezra straightened and stepped out of the puddle of dress and petticoats frothed around the gambler's feet.

He pulled the smaller man into his arms, hugging him firmly. "Let's get ya outta the rest of this mess then I reckon we could both use a bath and a nap." He smiled down at the other man, "Saturday night. Know yer gonna have a game goin'."

"Do you wish to join the game?" Ezra asked quietly.

"Nah. Reckon I'll just watch."

Ezra snuggled against him a moment longer. [Watch my back, you mean.]

With a contented sigh, he stepped clear of the tracker's arms and smiled at him, waving a hand to indicate that he'd appreciate some help with the lacing on his corset.

The End

Everything on this page is fiction. Any resemblance or reference to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.