FIC: I Thank You

[paulacas]

Title: I Thank You
Author: YanzaDracan
Fandom: KANE RPS
Pairing: Christian Kane/Steve Carlson
Rating: FRT
Summary: Lonely prompt – volunteering

Disclaimer: I don't own them. They belong only to themselves. This is a work of fiction. I'm not making any money. 

 

Steve groaned as the midmorning sun hit him in the face. His hand slid across the sheets looking for the body that should be next to him. 

Bleary eyes cracked open confirming what his fingers had told him. *Where the devil is Chris.* 

A hot shower had him feeling a little more human. He really needed to slow down on letting the fans buy him drinks. 

He smiled when he saw the aspirin bottle sitting next to the pot full of ambrosia. A note stuck out from under his favorite cup. 

‘Have a thing, back around 6.’ 

*Typical.* Steve thought. This was the fifth Saturday in a row that Chris had a ‘thing’. They hadn’t much time together with his club dates and conventions plus Chris’ schedule on Leverage, so they tried to keep the weekends for them. Curious, the singer made a mental note to ask what he’d been doing. 

Questions were forgotten when Chris got home. He was no sooner in the door than Steve was being kissed within an inch of his life and clothes were disappearing faster than he could think. 

“Not that I’m complaining, but what brought that on?” He brushed the sweat soaked hair off Chris’ face. 

“Missed ya. Wanted to make up for not bein’ here today.” Nimble fingers tickled up his spine. 

“Where were you?” Steve asked casually as he squirmed away from the fingers. “That tickles.” 

“Hmmm.” He nuzzled the loop in Steve’s ear. “Just had a thing I had to take care of. What do you want to do for supper?” 

The more evasive Chris was the more curious he got, and maybe a little jealous. 

It was close to 3am when he got home after his show. He smiled at the sight of big bad Christian Kane curled around his pillow, nose buried deep in the pillow case. A tug of war ensued until Steve could trade places with the pillow. He woke when he felt Chris tug his arm out from under him. He waited until he’d gone to the kitchen before got up and dressed. 

Steve smiled at the shocked expression on Chris’ face. 

“Morning, lover.” Steve kissed him then headed for the coffee. 

The slack jaw snapped shut. “What’re you doin’ up?” Chris growled. 

“Going with you.” He fought not to snicker at the defensive behavior. 

“Why?” 

“Why not?” 

“Fine. Bring your guitar.” He slammed his coffee cup down and stalked from the room. 

“Kane!” Steve hurried behind him. 

Chris stood in front of the mirror. He’d pulled his hair into a pony tail and stuffed it up in his favorite ball cap. A pair of aviators obscured enough of his face to hide his identity. 

The blonde leaned against the door frame and watched the transformation. 

“Why are you mad?” He asked softly. 

“I’m not mad at you, babe. I jist git aggravated that I gotta go through all this to keep people from makin’ a big deal out of stuff I do.” He placed a chaste kiss on Steve’s forehead. “Let’s go. Don’t wanna be late.” 

Steve was about to burst from curiosity by the time they parked the truck. He grabbed his guitar and followed the fast moving Kane. Inside the building Chris pulled off the glasses, ball cap and shook out his hair. He grabbed the singer’s hand and tugged him down the hall.                                                                                

“What’s the rush?” Steve panted. He needed to start working out if he was going to chase Chris around LA. 

Chris finally stopped when they entered a large open room. “Hey guys.” He called out. 

From around the room, greetings were called out. Men and women, some on crutches, some in wheelchairs, others nursing a multitude of injuries. 

“Who’s your silent friend?” Someone called out. 

“This is my partner, Steve Carlson. I figured you guys ‘d be tired of my poor pickin’, so I brought a pro. Meet ya’ll back here in 30.” 

They moved through the ward stopping to talk to the patients who were confined to their beds, Chris spoke to the nurses, doctors and orderlies, calling many of them by name. 

A half hour later they were back where they started. The room was nearly full, and several other guitars had appeared. The only way Steve could describe what happened next was a jam session—therapy—concert. They took requests, did some theirs and his songs, some of the vets sang, some of them just talked. 

After they got home, Steve was contemplating the contents of the refrigerator when he noticed the quiet. A quick search of the house was a bust, so he looked out back. Chris was stretched out on the chaise picking at the label of his beer bottle. Enough was enough. He plopped himself astraddle his brooding lover, took the beer, tossed it over his shoulder into the grass, and before Kane could protest, claimed his mouth in a toe curling kiss. 

“That was right nice, darlin’, but that was a perfectly good beer you threw in the grass.” 

“Why are you here doing your impersonation of a thundercloud instead of inside bitchin’ about dinner?”

“I don’t want anyone to know what I do on Saturdays.” Nervous fingers twisted in the Steve’s t-shirt. 

“Why? I mean maybe we could get some of the guys we know to do the same thing.” Steve prodded. 

“’Cause then it becomes a ‘thing’ that becomes something else, and the vets get lost in the rush. I just want to keep this about them. What’s a few hours here and there when they’ve given so much for me—for all of us.” 

“Don’t worry, Christian, the Kane reputation is safe with me. I won’t tell anyone you’re a soft touch.” Steve teased. 

“I’ll show you soft touch.” Chris growled as he reached for the unrepentant singer. 

Steve jumped and ran for the house, a no longer brooding Kane snarling threats, laughter trailing in their wake. 

 The End 

 

Comments

[elebridith]

Aww! *happy sigh* Chris' soft touch is a s big as Texas and Oklahoma together... and somehow, I can see him doing it.

[yanzadracan.livejournal.com]

Thanks. That was one thing I noticed when I lived in both those states. How supportive they are of the military. True, there's a lot of bases in both states, but I can see that being ingrained as a kid. Plus I seem to have this thing for in my fic for them doing mundane things.

[elebridith]

Oh, that's interesting! All the more realistic then. Plus, made me think of Eliot's "Thank you for your service" line in "Homecoming Job".

[yanzadracan.livejournal.com]

That's what prompted me. Homecoming job was on last Friday night. So we had a little character bleed.

[deluweil.livejournal.com]

Awwwwwwwww Chris's such a softie!! *grin*

[yanzadracan.livejournal.com]

Got the idea after watching "The Homecoming Job" on Leverage.