#cowboy!sam kiszka

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

BUT ALL WE GOT NOW, IS BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN!

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

Coming soon to a Tumblr dash near you…

[blacksmokebarbarians]

we all know jake is a pirate, but do y’all realize that sammy is a cowboy. because he is.

[ofthecaravel]

Cowboys Are Frequently Secretly Fond Of Each Other

A Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka fic where Danny is a cowboy and Sam really likes cowboys

Tags: Cowboys, closeted feelings, pining, angst, fluff, some steaminess at the end but nothing explicit, happy ending, stupid idiots

Words: 10k

---

This was Danny’s favorite part of the rodeo, this final lap around the outer ring while whatever poor cattle lay protesting on the dirt ground, restricted by which expertly tied knot he decided to twist into his lasso for that evening’s show. And, yes, he did do it to get a good look at all the whistling girls that lined the fence, but mostly he did it because he wanted to listen to all those cheers and screams for him as long as he could before it seemed too cocky. When he was steering his trusty stocky steed around, with sweat rolling down his forehead and his chest heaving as he caught his breath, the only thing he could truly focus on was drinking in the sound of his name screamed again and again. 

Imagine his surprise when he found something new to snap him out of the haze that the cheers drowned him in, no less on an otherwise standard night.

It was a face, staring up at him through a curtain of dark lashes and half obscured from the flannel sleeves it had burrowed into, propped up against the gated fence by impossibly long legs and worn out boots. At first glance, Danny figured it was one of the usual girls that rushed to the fence after the last knot had been tied, but as he approached and the face lifted higher to him, he realized it was neither. This was a man, fresh faced and femininely handsome, with his mouth ajar and his lower lash line glowing pale in the fluorescents, giving him the appearance of a doll in grubby country garb. Danny tried to brush his eyes past him without lingering too long, and yet when he rode past, he got a foreign shiver in the pit of his stomach that stabbed him anxiously. When he reached his exit area, he found himself riding past it, and the commentator made an amused remark about this extra victory lap as Danny took his hat off his head and shook his dusty curls loose. As he approached the man again, he was surprised to realize his hand had a shake to it as he leaned off his horse and planted his cowboy hat on the man’s head. For a fraction of a second, his pinky grazed the crown of his head, and the feeling of the silken quality of his hair brushing Danny’s knuckle was enough to make his throat go dry as he strode confidently on. There was a crest of yells and shrieks in the moments after he gave away his hat, but he didn’t dare sneak a peek over his shoulder, instead giving his usual wave and finally steering his horse through the exit. 

Now, another thing Danny was used to was having a few girls flit up to him after the rodeo and pay him even more attention. If they were lucky, he’d buy them a drink and send them home with a kiss on the cheek, but he promised himself he wouldn’t let himself become the kind of rodeo sleaze that took advantage of the near rockstar mystique they held in a small town like Silver Creek. This gentlemanly approach didn’t keep them away, if anything it drew them in even more. But on that night, he noticed an acute lack of nervous titters trying to catch his attention as he tended to his horse in his stall. He still noticed the occasional peeking of pink lipped faces around the corner and muffled chatter outside the barn, but there wasn’t so much as a shoulder tap for him that night. Danny found himself a little annoyed at this lack of company, but was quickly rewarded when he eventually loped out of the barn and turned to find himself face to face with the boy with the dark lashes. He looked a little startled to see Danny, but eased into a shy smile.

“Hi,” he said, clearing his throat slightly. “Uh, I wanted to make sure you got your hat back before you left for the night.”

“Oh!” Danny laughed, running a hand through his hair. “Well, aren’t you a peach?”

“You sure were great out there,” the other man continued, his voice restrained and bashful as he held out Danny’s hat to him. “Everybody around me was totally jealous.”

“I suppose I’ve got a fan or two,” Danny smirked, plucking the hat from his hand. “Can’t say I’ve seen you here before. First time at a rodeo?”

“Oh, no, definitely not,” the other man chuckled. “My brothers and I moved here from Kentucky a few weeks ago, but we’ve taken so long getting settled in that it took me this long to scope out how you folks like to do it.”

“Did we live up to your standards?”

“Definitely not.”

He gave Danny a wicked grin and Danny’s eyebrow immediately shot up with a scowl. The ease of their conversation was fluttering his insides in a warm, almost uncomfortable way, but he couldn’t help but go along with this stranger’s bite.

“Really?” Danny fake scoffed and shook his head. “I find that hard to believe. The Deputy Star Rodeo is by far the best in the state, ask anybody.”

“Well, maybe there’s a reason it’s the Deputy Star and not the Sheriff’s Star,” the stranger shrugged innocently. He had a lingering smirk on his lips, and Danny let his gaze rest on them a moment longer than he meant to before he flicked his eyes up to meet his. At this close range and in the warm light leaking from the barn, Danny could see their dark honey color underneath all those lashes. For the first time, he felt himself rendered a little speechless. He was so bashful, yet so brash, and Danny was reeling.

“You ride?” Danny challenged. Immediately, the stranger’s face froze up, blinking a few times absently before shaking his head no. Danny frowned at his odd reaction. 

“Well,” he started, shifting the hat in his hands for a moment before handing it back to the man. “If you’re gonna criticize our rodeo, I recommend you give it a try.”

The stranger, with an odd glint in his eye, reached out slowly and took the hat from Danny’s hand, never breaking eye contact. 

“I’m Sam,” he finally introduced himself, putting it back on his head. Danny felt a quiet thrill at the sight, his hat on that head. Danny nodded and tipped an invisible hat of his own at him.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find my name in your program,” Danny purred, shooting him a wink before turning to walk away. He got a few feet before Sam piped up again. 

“See you next week,” Sam called after him. “Danny.” 

Danny, still walking, didn’t even fight the smile that crept onto his face.

--

On his next night off, Danny decided to spend some time at the local bar. He was pretty sore from the previous night's tussle with a particularly stubborn bull, and he knew a drink or two would help melt away some of the strain on his muscles. Having grown up in this town, Carson’s Bar and Grill was a staple that had gone largely unchanged since Danny’s youth, having mapped out its familiarities when he was a young boy tagging along with his father to get a cream soda while his dad shot pool. He’d already been thrown off his rhythm days prior by Sam, and changes seemed to be few and far between in his life, so Danny found himself nearly jumping out of his scuffed up boots when he swung open the door to Carson’s and was greeted by a swell of raucous fiddling. The occasional set of live music started up every once in a while, but Silver Creek only had a handful of musicians worth a lick listening to. And this fiddling was good. Really good. 

Danny turned towards it and saw a man with flyaway chestnut waves sawing on a rickety old fiddle, his bright slice of smile on full display as his boot stamped on the offbeats. Several people had turned their tables towards him and were raptly watching, shouting and smacking their palms to the music. Next to the fiddler was a man on a chair, stamping his boots similarly and clapping along, his curls bobbing as he nodded his head. During a crescendo, both men scrunched their noses in unison, and Danny realized they had to be twins. The man on the chair cleared his throat before opening his mouth and singing along to the violin with a unique, scratchy voice.

“Johnny, rosin up your bow and play your fiddle hard,” he sang, his smile leaking through into the lyrics. “Cause Hell’s broke loose in Georgia, and the devil deals the cards!”

Danny couldn’t help but grin, his mood already considerably lifted as he approached the bar and ordered two fingers of whiskey, accepting it gratefully and nodding along to the music as he sipped it. 

“Hey, Wagner, heard you lost your hat at Sunday’s show,” rasped the regular next to him, giving him a wry smile wrought with missing teeth. Danny laughed and shrugged.

“What can I say,” Danny said, lifting the glass to his lips. “If you give ‘em a piece of the action, it keeps ‘em coming back.”

The man chuckled and clapped a hand on Danny’s back before swiveling his stool to face the fiddle playing, leaving Danny to stare into his drink as he realized that what he said wasn’t entirely true. Now that he was thinking about it, he’d had three shows since the night he’d given Sam his hat, but he hadn’t seen Sam since. 

Not that he cared. He finished his drink with a fast swallow and winced, burying the thought with the burn of the alcohol in his throat. 

As if summoned, the first thing Danny noticed when riding out for his next show the following day was Sam. He was in a seat this time, chatting with the man next to him as if the show hadn’t begun at all. His flannel was loose and fluttered around his collarbone, and the jean cutoffs he was sporting were the shortest Danny had ever seen on a man. Positioned jauntily atop his plaited hair was Danny’s hat. 

A day show for Danny meant a break from his usual tie down routine, instead getting to practice his breakaway roping, chasing down a steer with his lasso using tricks learned in early age that he now aimed to perfect. He stilled his ride in their stall, pulling the lengths of his lasso through his calloused hands, the rumble of the crowd and huffs of his target in the stall next to his lost on his ears as he tried to shake off an unexpected bout of jitters. He did this routine a thousand times, and the crowd ate it up every time. What was he getting so worked up about?

The announcer introduced him and the event, sneaking in a snide comment here and there about Danny’s prodigal rodeo history and his affinity for cattle, and Danny tried to let it calm him as he adjusted his position on the saddle and waited for the starting call. It beeped loudly and Danny was off, racing after the speedy little cow as he circled his lasso over his head. When he sped past, he snuck a side eyed look towards the bleachers where he’d seen Sam, and felt a stab of annoyance when he saw that Sam was still talking to the person next to him. He caught a glimpse of his full smile and Danny’s adrenaline piqued, whipping his head around and tossing his lasso blindly towards the steer, securing it around its throat as it kept anxiously buzzing around the arena. A chorus of cheers rose up and he slowed his horse, hearing his time score and curling his fist triumphantly when it was up there with some of his best times. Danny started his victory lap, tossing kisses and winks to the usuals gathering around the ring, scanning the droves of pretty faces and deciding if there was anyone he was particularly drawn to. Usually it wasn’t much of a struggle, but he felt strangely neutral about each face he passed, even cringing a little when he let his thoughts wander a little past where he usually let them go. Suddenly, none of them seemed very appealing at all. For the first time, Danny wondered where he could go after his second event later on to avoid any girls talking to him.

Danny decided to let one of the stable workers tend to his horse after the show, and everyone gave him a properly hard time when he insisted he needed to take it easy that evening. He made up a little white lie about a strained muscle and they all pitched in a cigarette and sent him off with a chorus of lighthearted yet condescending condolences. As Danny strode out of the barn, he stuck one of the cigarettes to his bottom lip and started digging in his jeans pocket for his box of matches. 

“Need a light?”

There was Sam, standing where he’d been when he’d brought Danny his hat, only this time he was making no move to remove it and had his head tilted in an innocent curiosity. Danny let out an amused exhale through his nose,  appraising Sam with an incredulous look as he removed the cigarette from his mouth and pinched it between his fingers.

“If you’re offering,” Danny answered, holding it out towards Sam. Sam pulled out a lighter from his impossibly small shorts pocket, Danny trying to not acknowledge how tight they clung to Sam’s toned legs as he spun the spark wheel and held the flame to the paper. It caught quickly and Danny brought it to his lips, inhaling deeply and nodding in appreciation as he let the smoke unfurl out through his nostrils, a trick some older cowboys had taught him. Of course, they’d taught him to impress the girls, but his reflexes told him to do it now.

“Can I bum one off of you?” Sam asked boldly, his eyes roundening ever so slightly in pleading.

“First my hat, now my smokes,” Danny mumbled, pulling one out of his pocket and handing it over to Sam, holding back a shiver as Sam’s cool fingers brushed his as he took it from Danny and lit it up. “Can’t say I appreciate being treated as a general store, stranger.”

“Stranger?” Sam parroted with a smile, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth as he leaned his shoulder against the side of the barn. “Can’t even remember my name? Owch.”

“I’m not sure you’ve earned it,” Danny snipped. “You don’t even pay attention during my events.”

Sam’s dark brows raised slightly as his cheeky smile spread across his tanned face, a little color seeping into his cheeks as he let out a little laugh. Danny’s brow furrowed further, his annoyance towards Sam growing even more.

“And how would you know that?”

It was Danny’s turn to flush, stalling his response by taking a deep drag of his cigarette and tossing a look over his shoulder as if he was looking for something or someone. He turned back to Sam after a moment, who was still wearing a satisfied grin.

“A true cowboy takes the time to acknowledge the audience all while corralling his cattle,” Danny explained steadily, as if he really believed that. “Plus, you’re still wearing my hat. I’d know my own hat from a thousand yards.”

“Ah,” Sam accepted, nodding sagely, clearly not buying it. “Hat, gotcha. Makes sense.”

“Who are you waiting for?”

“You.”

“Oh,” Danny said dumbly, beginning to grow frustrated by how much this person was stringing his nerves out with so few words. Sam’s mere presence was making him itchy from head to toe and he couldn’t pin down why. “What can I do you for?”

“My brothers wanted me to ask you if you came into Carson’s yesterday,” Sam explained, flicking ash off his cigarette. 

“Yeah,” Danny answered simply. “Do I know them?”

“You might’ve recognized them as the yahoos with the fiddles.”

“Those were your brothers?” Danny blurted, his eyebrows shooting up. “Holy cow. They’re fantastic musicians, please give them my compliments.”

“Can do,” Sam muttered, a little bitterness in his voice. “I’m really just here to prove a point. I told them it was you who gave me the hat, but they didn’t believe me.”

“Were you there?” Danny asked, his heart beginning to race as he combed his memory of the night for a glimpse of Sam’s memorable face. “Gee, I don’t-”

“They thought you were way out of my league,” Sam chuckled, taking a long inhale of his cigarette and wearing it down to a nub as Danny blinked blankly at him. 

“I…don’t follow,” Danny stammered as Sam dropped the cigarette and stamped it into the dirt with the heel of his boot. 

“I didn’t think you would,” Sam giggled. “I guess what they say about a cowboy’s intellect isn’t too far off. So talented and yet…”

Sam clucked his tongue with a shake of his head and Danny grimaced, his cheeks flushing angrily as he took Sam’s blow. Sam approached him, gently sliding his hand up Danny’s bicep, his featherlight touch enough for all of Danny’s adrenaline to slam into him at once and slow his breathing. 

“I’ll explain it real easy for you, cowpoke,” Sam said softly, lifting himself up on his tip toes and lowering his voice as he spoke in Danny’s ear. “I think you’re cute.”

Danny froze. Zeroing in on the feeling of Sam’s warm breath on his neck and the faintly sweet and smoky smell of his cologne, he felt a cold sweat break out over his skin as Sam chuckled against his ear and then lowered himself again, combing Danny’s expression as Danny fought not to let his cigarette fall from his lip. Danny recovered pretty quick, laughing softly and looking down at his boots, seeing how close Sam’s expensive seafoam green ones were to his own dusty, worn out pair.  

“Ah,” Danny said quietly, hoping Sam didn’t see the heat he felt warming his cheeks. “Sorry, partner, I don’t quite swing that way.”

He met Sam’s eye, expecting disappointment written all over his face, but instead Sam looked disappointed with him. His brow was arched, his head was cocked again, and his body language said what he wasn’t saying: I don’t believe you. 

Danny felt the need to prove himself to Sam, to really convince him that he was not interested in the slightest. That he was a real red blooded American cowboy with a girl on each arm. But once he’d said it and Sam was looking at him like he was an idiot, his mind started racing as he heard a little voice that he was all too familiar with speaking up in the back of his head, reminding him of just who had begun popping up in Danny’s dreams and driving him crazy during what was supposed to be his times of ultimate focus. 

“Okay,” Sam answered softly, his hand still maddeningly pressing into Danny’s bicep, the layer of cloth separating their skin a godsend for Danny’s sudden onslaught of dizziness. 

“It’s just…” Sam trailed off, finally removing his hand and shaking his head. “Nah, never mind. You have a good night, now.”

“What?” Danny asked after him, his heart one beat away from pushing its way out of his chest. “It’s just what?”

“You just…I don’t know,” Sam shrugged. “See, I was talking to this nice guy during the rodeo and he was telling me all about you. Said you’re not like the other cowboys ‘round here. That you’re real respectful to the ladies. Maybe a little too respectful.”

“I don’t do what I do for girls,” Danny retorted harshly.

“Of course, of course. It’s just that I knew a fella like that back home in Kentucky. Real nice guy, real respectful, did what he did and then went right home. Church every Sunday, dinner at his momma’s every Friday. Nobody ever saw him on a proper date with any of those buckle bunnies screaming his name night after night, even when all his other rodeo pals couldn’t keep their hands off of them.”

Sam took a pause, looking off into the distance at the setting sun and smirking to himself, rubbing the back of his neck. He slid his eyes back over to Danny, giving him a chill.

“I knew him,” Sam purred, sucking his teeth and grinning. “I knew him real well. And he reminds me a lot of you.”

Danny, cold again, did nothing more than watch Sam toss him a wink and saunter off, flicking the flame on his lighter on and off as he went. Danny's cigarette finally dropped from his mouth and sizzled out on the ground, and he snapped out of his stupor to curse and defeatedly crush it underfoot. Blood roaring in his ears, he wished more than anything in that moment that Sam would leave him alone and fuck off back to Kentucky so Danny never had to see his mocking grin and swaying hips ever again. 

This sentiment didn't stay at the forefront of his mind for long, much to his chagrin. It seemed his subconscious had other opinions when late that night, with all the lights off and his cock in hand, it was the imagery of Sam’s curling lips and ridiculously small shorts that finally pushed him over the edge with a muffled cry of both satisfaction and frustration.

--

Danny figured that moment of weakness was nothing more than that, but decided that he’d do his best from that point on to avoid seeing Sam. It was Sam’s stupid insinuations that had put those thoughts in his head in the first place, so if he stayed away from him, he’d be sure to have a clear head again. 

And yet, everywhere he turned, there was Sam. Since their smoke session outside the barn, Sam had shown up to every single rodeo. He’d cycle between his rotation of flimsy flannels, sometimes not even bothering to button them up, or he’d tie them up to expose his midriff. His hair would be loose in dark waves, tucked behind his ears, tied into braids, and even once he’d had two plaits encircling his head like a halo. The only consistency in his garb was Danny’s damn hat, sticking out of the crowd like a personal declaration of a vendetta against Danny’s dedication to not look at Sam. 

And it wasn’t just Danny taking note of Sam’s glaring presence. His effeminate confidence was making waves with both women and men in the rodeo circles and everyone who frequented Carson’s, seeing as he’d started showing up with his brothers and playing piano along with them. He was becoming impossible to ignore, but still it seemed that he hadn’t made any actual friends since coming to Silver Creek. Danny had listened in on a conversation between two of the bareback buckers, hearing Sam’s name peppering their confusion surrounding how they each knew a score of people who had made a move on him and been kindly rejected, but only after they’d bought him a drink or two. Danny had frowned and tried to shake the information off, yet he spent the rest of the night spiraling about what the hell Sam was waiting for. And why did he care so much? 

Eventually, Danny realized that there was nowhere for him to hide. Not from Sam, not from his own weird feelings about him, not from himself. He made a new plan: Talk to Sam again, only this time, he was going to get the last word. They’d be conversing on Danny’s terms. He could get some insight into what Sam’s whole deal was and then, finally, move on from the haze that Sam had somehow trapped him in.

After a quick afternoon show, Danny had practically bolted from the stables so he could catch the crowd as they trickled out from the stands. He stood awkwardly on the side of the gravel path and combed through the bodies until he caught a glimpse of a familiar slender figure. Sam was walking and talking with one of Danny’s regular groupies, tossing his braid crimped waves over the shoulder of his maroon flannel as he laughed at something she said. 

“Sam!” Danny yelled before he had the time to think twice. 

Sam startled and looked around him before spotting Danny on the grass, looking back to share a pointed look with the girl before giving her a pat on the shoulder and elbowing his ways sideways through the flow of people to get to Danny. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and kept a neutral smile as Sam walked up to him, that familiar smug grin already on his face.

“Hi,” Sam greeted, a giggle at the very end of the word. “Haven’t seen you in a hot minute.”

“Now that’s not true, you come to all my shows,” Danny pointed out. Sam rolled his eyes dramatically. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“If you wanted to see me, you could’ve found me after,” Danny plowed on, unsure of where he was going but too flustered to back out. Sam hesitated, looking genuinely surprised. 

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t really sure if that was something I wanted to do after that painfully nice rejection you dealt me,” Sam admitted, some of the bashfulness that Danny had seen the first night they’d met starting to creep back into his voice. 

“Doesn’t mean we can’t be friends,” Danny declared. He swallowed nervously once he said it and Sam raised his brows in surprise.

“Is that what you want to talk to me about?” Sam asked, his voice low and gravelly, sending a chill down Danny’s spine. “You want to be my friend?”

“I suppose I do,” Danny answered truthfully, taking off his hat and resting it over his chest. “I’m worried we got off on the wrong foot. I know adjusting to a new place can be tough and I figure it might be easier with a friend.”

“Oh, you and your Southern hospitality,” Sam laughed bitterly. “I’m adjusting just fine, if you know what I mean.” His grin became saccharine and suggestive.

“That’s not what I’ve heard,” Danny countered, the speed of his response against his better judgment. The grin slipped off Sam’s face without even a whisper of the petulant protest that Danny expected. Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes again.

“I don’t need your pity,” Sam snipped, crossing his arms. Danny knew Sam was trying to be cool, but even in his cut off shirt and high riding shorts, he looked like a sour faced child. He looked, above all, hurt. Danny’s heart lurched anxiously.

“It’s not pity,” Danny argued truthfully. “I’m not offering you any kind of charity. I just think you and I could be friends. Maybe even good friends.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at Danny, still unconvinced of Danny’s sentiment. But after a moment of deep thought, Sam looked over his shoulder and then back at Danny before extending a hand towards him, his eyes jumping everywhere but Danny’s own.

“Then let’s be friends,” Sam agreed, his lids fluttering slightly when Danny took Sam’s hand in his own.

“Fantastic,” Danny smiled, keeping his cool while an electric pulse shot through his body, its source at the cool center of Sam’s slim palm. “Can I buy you a drink at Carson’s or something? I’ve got the evening off.”

“How friendly,” Sam said sarcastically, pulling his hand away but smiling. “Sure. Let’s just cross our fingers that my brothers aren’t there.”

“Why?” Danny asked, trailing behind Sam as he started walking. 

“If they see you buying me a drink, they’re going to really get the wrong idea,” Sam laughed, grinning at Danny over his shoulder like he hadn’t taken Sam’s teasing words like a rock to the face. Danny laughed, too, playing along with Sam’s light banter, trying not to trip over his own feet. 

Once at Carson’s, Danny bought them both a beer and the two of them got caught up in a casual conversation about their surface level facts. Danny kept a dedicated list of the personal anecdotes that Sam shared with him; he’d been a horse fan since he was young, he had a sister that still lived in Kentucky, he liked Silver Creek but wasn’t a fan of its relentless heat. Danny kept note of other things too, like the way Sam bit the skin on his thumb and very clearly didn’t enjoy the beer Danny had gotten him but sipped politely anyway. He seemed to struggle keeping his eyes on one place at a time, especially when looking at Danny, and often started new topics in the middle of sentences he never got to finish. 

It wasn’t until they had paid the tab and started heading out that Danny realized his plan of taking the lead in their dynamic and getting the last word in had gone completely out the window. He felt nearly drunk while he engaged in the conversation and listened keenly to Sam as they walked down Saguaro Ave., realizing absently that he actually wasn’t sure where Sam was going. But Danny followed him nonetheless, teasing Sam for the wandering way his legs moved as he ambled down the dirt road and sent lizards fleeing from the gravel he kicked up. 

“Oh, please, I’m very graceful,” Sam insisted after nearly avoiding rolling his ankle on a particularly rocky patch of road. “I used to be a dancer, you know.”

“Yeah?” Danny inquired further. “Not sure if I can picture you as a ballerina.”

“Well, I wasn’t quite a ballerina,” Sam laughed, his cheeks glowing red in the golden hour sunlight that soaked them as it poured over the horizon. Sam began walking backwards to face Danny, and a thought popped into Danny’s head, simple and succinct:

 He looks beautiful. 

With flowing limbs and his tan skin burning amber in the dying light of the sun, he couldn’t kick the thought and the rush of emotions it brought. He wanted to walk away as much as he wanted to follow Sam right into the eye of the sun at his back.

 For the first time in hours, he remembered that night where Sam had breathed that confession in his ear, and what it had done to him when he’d gotten home. Danny had been beyond ashamed the moment after he’d finished, and deep down he knew that shame of thinking of him that way and also that it had been Sam was what actually had pushed him to befriend him. How could he stay away? Should he apologize? Did he really swing the way he had promised he didn’t?

Danny was digging himself deeper into his own mind as he walked, not realizing he had fallen silent until Sam did too, looking at Danny like he was crazy until Danny blinked and shook his head.

“Pardon?” he stammered, which was met by a cackle from Sam.

“Where’d you get off to, partner?” Sam asked, mocking Danny’s drawl in the way he stressed ‘partner’. “Daydreaming?”

“That beer is going right to my head, it seems,” Danny lied, running a hand through his hair and shaking his curls out again, forcing a smile. 

“Sure,” Sam said in his light tone that Danny knew meant he didn’t believe a word out of his mouth. “Well, I’ll let you off the hook just this once ‘cause we’re here.”

“Here?” Danny echoed dumbly.

Sam had strolled right up to the door of a small orange stucco house with wide pleated blinds and a half hearted row of flowers by the dusty welcome mat. 

“Here, silly,” Sam smiled. “My house. I thought I’d have to ask you to walk me home but you didn’t ask any questions so I figured I’d just keep on keeping on. I hope I didn’t take you too far from your own place.”

“You kiddin’?” Danny laughed. “I live two streets down.”

“Wow. That’s convenient.”

“Why?” Danny asked a little too urgently and Sam arched a brow at him.

“For, you know, hanging out?” Sam answered. “Like friends do.”

“Yes,” Danny responded. “Of course. I just-”

“Don’t sweat it, cowboy,” Sam cut him off, digging a key out of his pocket and turning towards the door, looking back at Danny with a smile. “See you tomorrow?”

“That’ll be just fine,” Danny replied, mirroring his soft smile. “You have a good night now.” “You too. Goodnight.”

Danny watched Sam turn the key in the lock and open the door a bit, giving him one more smile before stepping inside. Before he could stop himself, Danny found himself speaking again.

“Hey,” Danny blurted out and Sam stopped in his tracks, facing Danny again with his doe eyes wide and mouth pursed in a moment of curious surprise. 

“Uh,” Danny started again, growing hotter by the minute. “Your man in Kentucky. The one you said that I remind you of.”

“Uh huh,” Sam said softly, leaning his hip against the doorframe. 

“What did you mean by that?”

“Like, why do I think you’re similar?”

“Yes,” Danny said, his voice quiet and a little desperate. 

Sam looked at him for another beat, clearly fighting a smile.

“Well,” Sam began quietly, looking down at his boots for a moment before staring up at Danny through his lashes like he had during that first rodeo. “You’re just a couple of real nice boys who know how to keep their hands to themselves when it’d be real easy not to. You both pay attention to things that the other cowboys don’t.”

“Like?”

“Me.”

Danny’s jaw set and they stared each other down, Sam tilting his head maddeningly to assess Danny’s eyes quickly clouding. 

“And were you two friends?” Danny asked, his words spitting in a way he didn’t have a grasp on.

Sam fell silent. He put a hand back on the door, looked Danny up and down, and then turned back into the house.

“No,” Sam answered curtly. “We were fucking, Danny. Goodnight, now.”

With another little smile and flick of his hair, Sam strode through the doorway and slammed the door behind him, the lock audibly clicking as Danny stood there beet red in the face.

--

Somehow, it was never brought up again. Starting the very next day, Danny and Sam were nothing but the best of friends, even if everyone in town had a very different idea of what was going on between them. They weren't wrong for jumping to conclusions, considering that despite the intense platonic line that seemed to have been drawn on both sides, Danny was falling deeper and deeper into his spiral. For him, the routine of his job and the time spent with other friends became a mechanical compulsion. Everything else to him was nothing but Sam, Sam, Sam.

 He saw him before and after shows, met him for lunch on his measly excuse of a porch, and bought him a drink at the bar every night. Danny never seemed to grow tired of the endless roads their conversations took him down, and as far as he knew, Sam felt the same way. Sam had gotten a job pitching paints and cleaning supplies down at the general store. Even though he met all kinds of people every day, all Sam did was complain about them to Danny. That really made Danny feel special. On a night after a few too many cocktails, Sam had even said it to his face.

"You're the only person I actually like around here," Sam confessed with a rosy cheeked laugh, tapping his nails against his glass. "Everybody at work wants to hit on me or get to know me and it's just so blah. I can't talk to people like I can talk to you."

"I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," Danny chuckled, Sam's words mixing with the alcohol in his blood and warming him up. 

"No way," Sam argued, his dark eyes and blown out pupils overtaking his face as he blinked blindly at Danny. "I'm extremely nice to you."

"Is that what you call it?"

"Oh, you love it."

And Danny did. He really, really did. As much as it embarrassed him, it was Sam's harsher tirades that tended to resurface all those terrifying feelings that Danny tried to push aside to keep their friendship alive. When Sam's tone turned cocky and jeering, all while grinning as sweet as honey while he took fun loving jabs at Danny, Danny would go home with his head spinning and his pants uncomfortably tight. What made it even worse is that Sam seemed to be well aware of his effect on Danny. He had been from the beginning, really, but his persistent flirtation under the guise of friendly teasing never went away. Despite his insistence that he had moved far past his initial crush, Sam liked to prod. And prod and prod and prod.

“Tell me something, Wagner,” Sam began one evening as they sat in rickety chairs on Danny’s leaning porch. “We’ve been friends for a month now.”

“Keen observation,” Danny interjected with a laugh, earning a smack on the arm from Sam.

“I wasn’t done, smartass,” Sam snapped, pointing at him with the neck of his beer bottle. “What I was going to say is that we’ve been friends for a month now and I haven’t seen you on a date one single time. Weren’t you saying you have your pick of the bunch with the rodeo girls?”

“Oh, come on now,” Danny muttered into a sip of his drink, his stomach flipping anxiously. “I do! I just, I’ve taken them all out already.”

“People come from all over the state to see you rope, cowboy. You’ve taken out every girl out of town and in town?”

“Maybe I have,” Danny grinned, winking and turning to stare at the lowering sun before he could catch Sam’s expression. Sam made an incredulous noise. 

“You’re bad at being a cowboy,” Sam accused. It was Danny’s turn to exhale in surprise and offense.

“Bad at being a cowboy? Excuse you?” Danny sputtered, turning in his seat to face Sam, who was smiling smugly at staring firmly out across the street. “How does me not wining and dining a bunch of strangers make me a bad cowboy? I’m a great cowboy, thank you very much.”

“You just keep mentioning how you get hit on all the time by them,” Sam pointed out, a weird edge to his voice. “And you talk a big game. Clearly one of those things ain’t true and, you know what they say, lying isn’t a very becoming trait of a cowboy.”

“Oh, shut up. What do you care, anyway?”

“I don’t,” Sam said tightly. “I’ve just been meaning to inform you you’re a liar.”

“Congratulations, you found one thing I lied about,” Danny drawled sarcastically, rolling his eyes, a trait of Sam’s that he’d picked up. “Everybody lies. I bet you lie all the time.”

“Me? Nah, I’m a truthful little angel.”

“Come on, tell me a lie, Sam. Like you said, we passed the one month mark of friendship. Now we start getting into the real nitty gritty stuff.”

Sam was quiet, biting his tongue as he squinted in deep thought, his finely sculpted profile lit up from the sun in his face. Danny took the opportunity to look at him freely, his heart fluttering like a nervous teenager. 

“I don’t know, man, I don’t think I can conjure a lie on the spot,” Sam finally spoke, shrugging and taking a deep drink.

“Then tell me the last time you lied to me,” Danny pushed on, kicking Sam’s boot with his own. “If at all.”

“Oh, today,” Sam answered immediately.

“What!” Danny laughed. “You answered so fast! What was it?”

“You never said I had to say what it was!”

“Tell me, come on.”

“No!”

“You’re cruel, Sam,” Danny declared dramatically, emptying his beer and shaking his head in disappointment. “I’ve never had a friend as cruel as you.”

“That still makes me special,” Sam whispered, smiling wickedly. It was almost as if he was saying it to himself, and Danny answered it with silence. 

“Hey, we should do something tomorrow night,” Sam suggested. “To toast our friendship.”

“Is that a thing people do?” Danny asked, genuinely curious and trying not to be flustered. Here Sam was again, toeing the line that he himself had drawn. 

“It can be a thing we do,” Sam answered, shrugging innocently again. “We don’t have to.”

“No, no, that could be fun,” Danny answered hurriedly. “Maybe it could be an excuse for me to fire up my oven and actually cook something.”

“You gonna cook me a meal?” Sam asked, his tone bordering between jest and apprehension. 

“I can certainly try,” Danny offered as casually as he could. “Bring me some liquor and I’ll whip us up a certified feast.”

“And will we be eating out cans of the baked bean or corned beef hash variety?”

“No, no, it’ll be a proper dinner,” Danny insisted despite how his brain immediately started second guessing him. “What time you free?”

“I get off work at 5.” 

“It’ll be ready by 6.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You’ll believe me when you smell how good it is from halfway down the block.”

“There you are talking a big game again,” Sam laughed, his eyes sparkling in the light. “Now my expectations are higher than hopes.”

The truth was that Danny was a horrible cook and an even worse liar, but as he listened to Sam roast him, he figured this might be a perfect opportunity to overcome both of those things. It could be a chance to overcome his lie of being a great cook and actually dish up a meal worth eating, but more importantly, a chance to overcome a particularly choice lie he’d been dancing around since Sam had come into his life. 

After Sam had left, Danny made an official decision. He was going to make dinner, and then after, he was going to tell Sam the truth. Before that, he realized he had to figure out exactly what the truth was. Was it that he’d been breathless since he’d first seen Sam���s face? Or maybe that he’d been sure since long before he met Sam that he was much more prone to being sweet on other men? Danny felt tears springing to his eyes as he laid in bed staring at the ceiling, pushing them away with the rough heel of his hand as he tried to conceptualize how he could fit all his thoughts into a few succinct phrases. Would it be enough to simply tell Sam he cared for him in a way that he didn’t care for anybody else? God, would Sam even want to hear it? His worst fear was that Sam would think Danny just wanted him for the things that all the men Sam had grown to hate had wanted from him. A million questions passed through Danny’s head as he fell into a shallow, restless sleep, hoping he’d awaken with some kind of clarity about what to do.

--

He did not. Instead, Danny chose to chase the morning sunrise with a cup of coffee peppered with a healthy splash from his flask in it, staring hopelessly out the window at the town starting to come to life. It was a rare day where he didn’t have any shows, so he spent the day becoming acquainted with the cookbooks his mother had sent him with when he moved to Silver Creek. When he went through the grocery store line with more than two bags of supplies, the cashier looked genuinely proud of him.

“Got a special guest coming over tonight, cowpoke?” he asked, ringing up bags of vegetables and plastic packages of meat.

“Just decided I need a decent meal is all,” Danny answered. 

Yes, he thought.

 As he hauled his bags home, he wondered if it would be too much to get flowers. Not that there were any florists in Silver Creek, but maybe he could run around town and gather them from the sprouts of natural greenery that were few and far between. He passed the general store and peered through the window hoping for a glimpse of Sam, but came up short. He figured it was probably for the best, he didn’t want to freak himself out any more than he already was. 

For anybody else, it probably wouldn’t have taken as long, but it took Danny the majority of the day to prepare their dinner, taking bites of the produce along the way to make it count as a “lunch”. It was a pretty simple brisket with a side of vegetables, but Danny was very cautious around his kitchen appliances, so he worked slow and steady and only cut his fingers once. He dragged out his only nice dining table cloth and set it down, standing idly with one hand on it as he had a mental battle about whether or not candles would be too extravagant of a touch, finally deciding against it with a wave of his hand. He stood in front of his mirror a while, switching between shirts before settling on a warm button down with its first few buttons undone. He shrugged jackets on and off before deciding not to wear one at all, hurriedly throwing on his cleanest jeans and equipping one of his more expensive belt buckles, seeing as it was a special occasion. The minutes before Sam’s arrival were spent panicking that he had gone completely overboard and over thought the entire thing. Danny wrung his hands and paced the length of his voice, circling the dishes in the kitchen a few times before Sam’s distinct knock rang out. Danny let out a quiet but hurried breath of anxiety before smoothing his sweaty palms against his jeans and striding over to the door, pulling together a calm and contented facial expression as he opened the door. 

Sam smiled up at him, cradling a bottle of wine that leaned against his sky blue linen button down. It made his skin look even more sunkissed, along with his pale jeans and white cowboy boots. His hair hung down in thick waves and was topped by, once again, Danny’s tan cowboy hat. Sam hadn’t worn it in a few days and Danny laughed at seeing it, flicking the brim and stepping back to let Sam walk into the house.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing my own hat?” Danny joked as Sam set down the wine bottle.

“It seemed like it was an occasion special enough to warrant its usage,” Sam explained with a smile, looking around and catching a glimpse of the carefully crafted plates that Danny had assembled. “Well, I’ll be. You actually made dinner, you son of a bitch.”

“Have you no faith in me?” Danny asked as he waltzed into the kitchen and opened his silverware drawer to pull out forks and napkins for the both of them. “Come on, have a seat. I’m greatly looking forward to hearing you talk about how great it is.”

“I’ve always admired how humble you are,” Sam teased as he pulled out a chair and took a seat. “Got a wine opener?”

“You know I do,” Danny answered, pulling it out of the same drawer and curling it into his palm as he picked up the plates and brought them over to the table. He set the plates down in their places and handed the wine opener to Sam, who accepted it with a quiet ‘thank you’ and then proceeded to struggle greatly with actually using it. This was much to Danny’s amusement, who insisted over and over that he could just do it, but Sam struggled with it stubbornly until it popped open and he erupted with a triumphant yell. 

They drank out of jam jars and cleaned their plates, much to Danny’s relief. Sam held out on him for the first few bites, but admitted that it was delicious and insisted he wouldn’t provide any extra compliments until Danny stopped clapping and cheering for himself. It wasn’t any different than the other meals and drinks they’d shared in recent times, but as Danny tried to distract himself by keeping up with Sam’s quick wit, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he was going to bring it up. He prayed a moment of quiet would arrive where he could slip in a quick interlude and just get it over with, but their conversations were never wrought with natural pauses. Eventually, they ended up in Danny’s tiny living room, clutching their jars of wine and sitting on opposite ends of Danny’s (thankfully for him) long couch while they talked. 

Danny’s wine began to really hit him after it had gotten so dark that Danny had to start a shoddily assembled fire in the hearth, watching the flame grow with a satisfied pride as he knelt on the floor. 

“That’s really roaring now, huh?” Danny commented proudly.

“That may be the tallest fire I’ve ever seen in a fireplace,” Sam remarked coolly, a snide flirtation in his tone. “I mean, we should really call someone about getting you an award for that.”

“Ha ha,” Danny deadpanned, looking over his shoulder to throw Sam a sour look.

Instead, he saw Sam had migrated to the uncharted middleground of the couch, pulling the throw blanket that Danny had draped over the edge of the couch around his shoulders as he grinned at Danny. In the firelight, Sam was completely aglow with soft orange light, his eyes and hair taking on an unearthly fiery quality that somehow made him look gentle. Danny felt himself looking a second too long, and then a few seconds too long, and then nearly a minute long as he gawked at Sam and felt his stomach sinking lower and lower. Sam’s smile drifted down into a neutral expression and then a confused one as Danny tried to play off his blatant staring by looking back into the fire, poking it absently as if it needed it.

“What?” Sam asked.

“What?” Danny asked right back.

“You got all weird for a second.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did!” Sam laughed like it was obvious, which it was. “Are you tipsy or something?”

“I guess,” Danny answered weakly, knowing his meek language was even more suspicious than he was already being.

“You’re an odd duck,” Sam chuckled, wrapping the blanket further around his shoulders and nuzzling in. “Your fire isn’t working yet, I’m still chilly.”

“Patience, sheesh,” Danny quipped as he got up and away from the fire, finding the courage to sit back down on the couch, choosing a slightly closer spot than he had before and taking a sip of his wine. “I can feel it, it’s warmer over here now.”

“Mm,” Sam hummed, taking his own drink. “Maybe you’re right.”

When Sam leaned forward to put his jar down on the small table that accompanied the couch, his legs butterflied outwards and his knee dug into Danny’s own, which was spaced wide by his spreading sit. Danny tried not to jerk at the touch, and he struggled to remain still and unfazed when Sam leaned back against the plush cushion and his legs didn’t shift at all, the denim of their jeans now the only thing barely separating them. Danny looked down at the spot where their knees leaned on each other and, stupidly, looked to Sam as if expecting an explanation. Sam said nothing, instead staring blankly at Danny as if nothing had happened. But Danny knew that nothing truly meant nothing to Sam, and he looked away and into the fire to sit in the realization that if he needed a moment to act upon, it was now. He opened his mouth slightly to take in a breath of confidence, hesitating before turning to Sam. However, in typical fashion, Sam was too fast for him.

“Hey,” Sam rasped quietly, moving his knee away from Danny’s and crossing it over the other. He pushed himself up a little higher in his seat. “Um, I kind of wanted to say something.”

“Oh,” Danny blurted in shock, his chest seizing with fear and sending cold trickles through his body. “Me too, actually, but you can, uh, go first.”

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing, I just…” Sam trailed off, rubbing nervously at his chin before looking at Danny, his eyes full of ferocious sincerity. “It’s a stupid question, actually.”

“I’m open to it,” Danny replied honestly.

“Cool, cool.”

Sam paused again and Danny thought he was going to pass out from the anticipation.

“I wanted to ask…why. That sounds too simple, wait,” Sam stammered, squeezing his eyes and wrinkling his brow. “I wanted to ask you why you gave me your hat.”

“My hat,” Danny repeated absentmindedly, hoping the rush of color that he felt in his face wasn’t visible in the firelight. “That’s not a silly question.”

“You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to,” Sam insisted, backing away from his previous surge of confidence. “Like, I’m sure it’s nothing crazy, I was just, you know, there were a lot of people so I was wondering if you had some kind of…method. Or if it was totally random. I don’t care either way, I’m just, you know, curious.”

Sam let out a tiny breath as he ran out of steam and looked at Danny expectantly, the flickering visage of the fire fanning across his curious face and pulsing like a string of lights woven through his hair. Danny truly had no idea how to answer that even though the truth rested at the forefront of his mind.

I picked you because you were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen in my life, Danny answered in his own mind. I’d never even done that before that day. I’m lucky I didn’t fall off my horse the way that I couldn’t tear my eyes from your face. I gave you my hat because I wanted you to come find me and drag me into your life and cup my face in your hands. I wish I hadn’t been so terrified of getting what I wanted in that moment. But I want to stay in your life in any capacity and I want you to know that no matter what we are to each other, I would’ve given you the hat each and every time. Even if I never saw you again, it would’ve been worth it for the single strand of your hair wrapping around my finger for a second or two. 

In reality, Danny was silent. He feigned deep thought before he realized that he wasn’t remotely capable of saying what he thought. But he didn’t want to leave Sam hanging for an answer in this frustrating seizure of his mental capability. In a single moment of lucidity, Danny found a way to answer Sam the way he wanted to.

Danny, twisting at the hip, moved forward and caught Sam by the back of his neck before sealing the space between them and kissing him. He felt his brain blink to a blank channel as he felt the pressure of Sam’s soft lips against his own and the weight of Sam’s hair falling over the back of his hand. After what felt like a century of passing time, Sam’s mouth opened against his with a gasp of air and a shaky whimper, pressing against Danny with a rush of grabbing hands and angled jaws. Danny’s brain roared with a rush of blinding serotonin and he nearly laughed with relief as he pawed at Sam’s hip and dove his fingers under Sam’s shirt, his fingers sliding against the soft, sensitive skin of Sam’s slender waist. Sam, falling apart in a shower of whines and sighs, messily shifted his body further onto the couch and eventually onto Danny’s lap, sitting harshly and making Danny let out an involuntary groan. He moved the hand cradling Sam’s cheek down to his hips and dug his fingers in, anchoring Sam against him and causing Sam to let out a delicious whimper.

“Baby,” Sam whispered against Danny’s mouth, unable to tear away. Danny sighed in response, pulling Sam closer by the hip. He relaxed into the warmth of Sam’s arms encircling his neck and propped his head up against them to angle perfectly against Sam’s mouth. Danny was pretty convinced he never wanted to come up for air, but eventually his reflexes made him jerk his head back ever so slightly so he could breathe in a deep rush of cool night air, his mouth slick with spit. Sam’s eyes were round and starry, his pupils nearly overtaking the warm brown of his irises as he stared breathlessly down at Danny, the both of them panting in silence as they marveled at the other.

“Hi,” Danny whispered, his voice dry and gravelly and unmistakably shy.

“Hi,” Sam answered brightly, wiggling slightly under Danny’s touch. “So, what is it you wanted to say?”

“That was-that was basically what I was going to say,” Danny said between little gasps, swallowing and staring unabashedly at Sam’s glossy and flushed lips. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah,” Sam relinquished, pressing kisses to the high planes of Danny’s cheekbones and traveling down to his cheeks. “Knew you were a dirty liar.”

“Sue me,” Danny chuckled weakly. “Sorry for-”

“Don’t sweat it,” Sam interjected. “I knew you’d figure it out.”

“Aw, so sweet to me,” Danny murmured, leaning in to chase another kiss. Sam met him and dragged his fingers through Danny’s curls as he held Danny close to him, smiling against his lips when his fingers caught a little knot and Danny let out a muffled whine of pain. Danny reached up and slowly pushed the blanket off of Sam’s slim shoulders, hearing it drop to the floor as he smoothed a large palm up Sam’s chest, his fingers brushing over the patch of skin exposed at his throat and making him shiver. 

Danny figured that Sam would be the one to walk the line of ferality, but as the minutes passed and their button downs slowly migrated to the floor, he found himself being worked into a frenzy like he’d never experienced before. Every miniscule buck of Sam’s hips and the scent of his heady, wine sweet breath was enough to make Danny’s blood pound in his ears and knock the breath out of him. He had a pretty good idea of where this was headed, and he was suddenly very nervous when he realized that when they got there, he’d have absolutely no idea what to do. 

Eventually, Danny pulled away and took a moment to admire Sam again. His slender, sweaty chest was heaving and he reached up to pat his hat further down onto his hair, which swayed as he tilted his head to try and evaluate Danny’s expression.

“You look like a regular cowboy,” Danny complimented and Sam laughed, shooting him a wink and holding the brim of his hat as he started to rock back and forth on Danny’s lap. The friction was enough to make Danny grunt and grasp Sam’s hips again, trying to hold him in place and failing miserably. Sam leaned forward towards Danny, propping himself on the back of the couch as he kissed up Danny’s throat.

“Do you remember when we first met and you asked me a question?” Sam asked breathily in Danny’s ear, slowing his faux cowboy trot on Danny’s lap but not fully stopping.

“I can’t think of much of anything with you looking like that,” Danny replied honestly and Sam chuckled in his ear, the vibration sending another delicious jolt down Danny’s already painfully sensitive neck.

“Well, you did,” Sam continued. “And I lied to you. Just wanted to apologize for that.”

“What did I ask you..?”

Sam sat upright again, holding Danny by the jaw and giving him another kiss before murmuring his answer against his lips.

“You asked me if I ride. I said I don’t, but that whole time I was thinking that for you, I’d love nothing more than to show you just how well I can ride.”

Danny gawked at him for a moment, Sam drinking in his shocked silence with a smug grin as he brushed Danny’s hair back sweetly and softly bit his bottom lip. 

“I don’t…” Danny trailed off, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Sam whispered. “But if you do, I’ll show you.”

“I do,” Danny blurted immediately. “I do, yes, I just, you know, be patient with me.”

“Of course,” Sam said gently. “Can you just promise me one thing?”

“Anything.”

“Can we still be friends after this? Turns out I actually really like having a friend, especially if it’s you.”

“Of course we can still be friends,” Danny answered, cupping Sam’s cheek and smoothing his thumb soothingly over his soft skin. “As long as you don’t mind me being very fond of you along with it.”

“I expect it, actually,” Sam smiled. “Now, will you take me to bed?”

“What’s the magic word?” Danny grinned, nuzzling his nose against Sam’s as Sam rolled his eyes and locked his arms around Danny’s neck once more.

“Please,” Sam replied faux begrudgingly. “Please take me to bed.”

“Very good,” Danny hummed, wrapping his arms around Sam’s waist and hoisting him up around his hips before standing up like he weighed nothing at all. “That’s my boy.”

“Oh, I’m yours now?” Sam teased, locking his legs around Danny’s lower back as Danny slowly made his way down the hall towards his bedroom.

“If you’d like to be, sure,” Danny said warmly. Sam paused for a moment, a small giddiness starting to buzz in his face.

“If I was, you wouldn’t hide me away?” Sam asked quietly, his voice catching slightly but playing it off by clearing his throat. “You’d tell people I was yours?”

“I’ll scream it from the rooftops if you want me to,” Danny replied, setting Sam down on the quilt atop his four poster bed. His heart sank as he thought of the times when Sam hadn’t had someone as proud to have him, which seemed like a pretty ridiculous concept to Danny. Now that he knew he had him, it was going to take a lot of restraint not to announce it to every person he passed on the street. Sam smiled shyly up at him, almost grateful.

“I’ll be yours, then,” Sam purred, leaning back on his elbows. “But you’re going to have to come and get me first.”

Danny grinned down at him, closing the door behind him before descending passionately on Sam and causing him to erupt in a burst of giggles that morphed into a stream of sighs and gentle moans that carried on long into a blue morning. Danny had spent so much of his life chasing after things that ran from him, even after he’d caught them and tied them down. Now here was something that had run after him, and as the time passed in Sam’s orbit and he felt the sensation of being tied down himself, he realized that this might’ve been what he really wanted all along.

--

Taglist: @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface  @s0livagant​  @holdingup-fallingsky​ @t00turnttrauma​ @the-starcatcher​ @streamsofstardust​ @spark-my-nature​ @joshkiszkashusband @meetingthestoryteller

[randomthingsthatmakemehappy]

I second that, Sam…help 🤠🥺

[im-derty-dan]

painful reminder

[holdingup-fallingsky]

Josh “Songbird” Kiszka

[anthemofgvf]

having some unholy thoughts on this fine evening

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

I’ve been hyping myself up for all the new stuff I was going to write now that DYWTYLM is finished, but I opened up my google docs and a cowboy Sanny fic started pouring out of me so I guess this is what we’re working on now 😅

[imgonnagetkilledbynutstink]

I wanna hear Jake sing Silver Bell by GAI now immediately

[binarysunset17]

Oh my god i heared Rhinestone Cowboy for the first time on the radio a couple months ago and the whole time im like oh my god Josh Core🌟🧚‍♂️ i cannot believe they sang it im so glad lol

Jake Taking off his jacket and singing "Rhinstone Cowboy" + Josh being a comedian

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

I can't quit you

[ofthecaravel]

The Love That You Need

A very small second part to Cowboys Are Frequently Secretly Fond Of Each Other because I can't get these sweet Southern pardners out of my head. Also the title is taken from Smalltown Boy by Orville Peck which is wonderful and relevant for this story

Tags: Anxiety, lying, ~backstory~, implied homophobia, comfort, fluff, lil bit o' steaminess

Words: 3.4k

---

This was Sam’s favorite part of the day. After a shower after his shift at the general store and dinner at home with his brothers, he sat on Danny’s porch and stared at the cobalt sky while waiting for his intrepid cowboy to come home.

He could actually feel the town wind down as the rodeo ended, and he couldn’t help the excited bounce in his knee when he’d hear that last pair of boots coming down the road to greet him. The porch swing he had helped Danny build would rattle and sway when Sam got to his feet and raced down the steps to throw his arms around Danny, fawning over any bumps he’d gotten during his set and finger combing his messy hair while they piled through the front door and kissed the second it was closed. Danny would shower and Sam would talk to him through the bathroom door and when he’d come out, Danny would lay Sam down and make him his. 

Being Danny’s was what Sam had loved so much about the past six months he’d spent in Silver Creek. Danny wasn’t shy about reminding Sam that he was his world, whether it was the proud way he’d show Sam off to all his cowboy buddies or the way he’d shower him in every silly pet name he could think of when it was just the two of them. To Danny, Sam was his sweet thing and his darlin’ and his cactus flower, and Sam would flush and smile fondly just like the first time he had heard it. 

Sam had never been somebody’s before, and even though he’d figured it would be something he’d have to warm up to, he had jumped head first in with Danny. It was so…easy. Comfortable. Unwavering. That was also what made it so hard for Sam to be with Danny. That ease between them had made Danny an open book right off the bat, and as the months passed, Sam was becoming increasingly aware that Danny was growing curious as to why Sam wasn’t. Sam was bold, sure, and he knew Danny loved that about him, but during deep conversations he preferred to keep the focus on Danny and his life. He hated that about himself, and he knew it had to change. Sam just wasn’t sure if he could stand looking Danny, his Danny, in the eyes and telling him that there was so much he had been lying about.

-

“What’re you thinking about?”

“Hm?”

Sam was curled on Danny’s lap in front of the fire, his head tucked into the crook of Danny’s neck and his thumb in his teeth as he anxiously nipped at the skin there. He was deep in thought, and he was almost upset that Danny knew him well enough to call him out on it. Danny kissed his head and pressed his forehead to Sam’s hair, his grip on Sam’s waist tightening as he pulled Sam closer to him.

“Ya wanna talk about it?” Danny murmured. 

“No,” Sam answered honestly, his voice uncharacteristically soft and nervous. Danny, once again knowing Sam enough to know that something must be wrong, kissed his hair again and started running his fingers through it. Sam’s hair had grown increasingly long, refusing to let anyone touch it except for Danny. Even then, it was only to barely trim the edges when they started to get a little too dry for his liking. 

“Well, you know you can tell me anything,” Danny whispered, the timbre of his voice soothing Sam ever so slightly as he struggled to get his mind where he wanted it.

“I know,” Sam muttered simply. 

He had to tell him.

 He was going to tell him.

But God, where to start?

“Danny,” was all Sam could muster at first before he let out a little huff of air and continued. “I do want to talk about something.”

“Okay,” Danny answered, his voice already a little tight with nerves. “Shoot.”

“I want you to promise me something first.”

“Anything, sugar.” 

Sam shifted slightly so his head was leaning against Danny’s shoulder and he could properly look Danny in the eyes. With Danny’s face bathed in warm light and worry, Sam wished he could stop while he was ahead and get lost in the forests of Danny’s kind eyes. 

“Promise me you won’t hate me,” Sam whispered. Danny’s face knit with further confusion and he shook his head a little bit, his hand coming up to cup Sam’s cheek.

“Hate you?” Danny echoed, fully shaking his head in disbelief now. “I could never hate you, Sam. I just couldn’t.”

“And if I told you the reason I came to Silver Creek wasn’t too pretty?”

“Honey, just tell me.” Danny attempted a reassuring smile. “You’re killing me with the suspense.”

“I just feel so terrible,” Sam admitted, his voice shaking slightly as he leaned into Danny’s hand and closed his eyes. “I didn’t quite lie but I haven’t been quite honest with you.”

He left a beat for Danny to say something, but Danny kept his silent patience and Sam swallowed before continuing. 

“Rural Kentucky wasn’t the place to be for me and my brothers,” Sam started, his voice hushed and his tone flat as he allowed himself to remember. “It was a small town we grew up in, so when rumors flew, you were as good as hung to dry. Especially when they were true, when it comes to me and Josh and…you know. The things about us we can’t change and aren’t particularly interested in changing. It was every day with the insults and the whispers and the fights that Jake kept getting into on our behalf. He was half black and blue and we were sick of it and we knew that we needed to get the hell out of there. But our folks didn’t leave us anything but the house so we were shit out of luck.”

Sam’s thumb returned to his teeth when he thought about it for a moment too long. He knew he hadn’t deserved all the trouble he’d been given, but there was a long time where he had really believed he had, and it made him sick to remember it all. 

“But you got here,” Danny prodded gently, clearly sickened already by what little he had heard. “So something must’ve worked out.”

“That’s the bad part,” Sam confessed quietly, his heart beginning to race as he settled into the memory. “We had no money to move, and there weren’t any jobs we could get that would make us enough, and that was if they hired us at all. Even between the three of us, our combined savings was nothing. We were dirt poor. Everybody there was. There wasn’t any money except for at the bank. Now, the bank…they were swimming in it. Not that they deserved it. They had the kind of money that could get the three of us far, far away.”

Sam stopped, assessing Danny’s expression, waiting to see the glint in his eye when he put the pieces together so that Sam didn’t have to admit to what he was. But Danny just watched him attentively, his hand still on Sam’s face as he listened and waited for Sam. Sam couldn’t bear it, the sight of Danny’s unwavering kindness, so he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Danny’s jaw and spoke into his neck. 

“We took it,” Sam breathed, his voice laced with disgust. “The money. Nothing smart, nothing sneaky. We all put on these stupid black bandanas to hide our faces and Jake went in with his shotgun when the place was empty and stuck up the poor teller for all he had. We got it out, got in the truck, and drove out of town. We must’ve driven for three days straight with the adrenaline we had. We decided to settle in whatever town we ran out of gas in and, well, here we are.”

For a moment, Sam forgot he was safe and unseen in the arms of the man he loved. For a moment, he was back in the backseat of the truck clinging to sackcloth bags with his heart about to give out from its relentless pounding, looking over his shoulder every 2 minutes to watch for flashing lights that would mean it had all been for nothing. And for a moment, he couldn’t even think of what Danny must be going through listening to this. Sam closed his eyes and pressed against him, dreading this may be his last chance to be this close.

“The law never caught up?” Danny finally asked in an odd tone, as if he couldn’t quite believe what Sam was telling him. “You just ran and got off scot free?”

“I guess,” Sam whispered, shame darkening his voice. “Once we saw a Wanted sign for Jake when we were about a mile out from here, but we ripped it down and haven’t seen any since.”

A minute of quiet passed between the two of them, Sam silently reaching up to press his hand to Danny’s against his skin, anchoring him there while the two of them were lost in thought. Eventually, Danny’s voice rose again.

“Okay.”

Sam blinked and then straightened, staring at Danny like he was absolutely out of his mind.

“Just okay?” Sam asked, baffled by the serene look on Danny’s face. He had been expecting Danny’s perfect nose curled in disgust, completely repelled by the newfound information that his precious cactus flower was a lowdown criminal. But Danny didn’t seem shaken by any of it at all.

“Sam, you and Josh were getting horribly harassed while Jake was getting the living hell beaten out of him. I don’t really blame you for wanting to take what you felt you deserved and leaving all of that horseshit behind.”

Sam furrowed his brow at Danny, waiting for the joke to be over.

“I’m serious!” Danny laughed, tucking a swinging lock of Sam’s hair behind his rosy ear. “You got out and I’m happy that you did. Now you can live a safe life. I mean, you know I’ll knock down anybody who even dares to take a little bit of an attitude with any one of you three, right? I can’t have anyone throwing stones at my little songbirds.” 

Sam felt all of the tension inside his body begin to crumble in a jarring rush that almost brought tears to his eyes. He’d been sick to his stomach half the time he’d been in Silver Creek because he figured the whole criminal detail would lose him the only person he’d ever met who seemed worth keeping around. And here that person was, smoothing his hair and smiling kindly and vowing to protect him no matter what. For no other reason than it was Sam. 

“You alright, darlin’?” Danny asked nervously, still fussing over Sam’s hair and shocked face as Sam’s breaths started to come slower and calmer. “You didn’t think I was actually going to be sore over that, did you? There’s much worse you could’ve done.”

“I just don’t want you thinking of me as a criminal,” Sam sighed, wrapping his arms around Danny’s neck and frowning up at him. Danny clucked his tongue and shook his head, gently holding Sam’s chin with his thumb and forefinger as he smiled fondly.

“I don’t think that even for a second,” Danny assured him. “You’re an outlaw, that’s all.”

“That sounds even worse!” Sam whined and Danny immediately laughed at Sam’s outcry. “I sound like a dirty fugitive.”

“You’re my dirty fugitive,” Danny cooed as Sam scoffed, his cheeks flushing with passion as Danny chuckled, his eyes sparkling with adoration. Sam sighed, once again feeling his harsh emotions being dampened by everything that Danny was.

“Thank you for understanding,” Sam said, his voice suddenly very shy again as he finally found a smile inside of him and flashed it at Danny. “You must really like me if you’re willing to forgive me for my lawless behavior.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was halfway to loving you,” Danny smiled and Sam took his words like a pulse of electricity, his eyebrows flying up. 

“Because of that?” Sam sputtered.

“Maybe not because of that, but definitely because of other things,” Danny hummed coolly, as if he hadn’t realized the absolute weight of what he had just said. 

“Oh,” Sam said dumbly, fully aware his entire face must have been flushed as he processed Danny’s implication. “Well…gee.”

“Gee,” Danny mocked, scrunching his nose at Sam and very lightly tickling where his fingers still ghosted on Sam’s chin. “Little words like that definitely push me over the halfway mark. I’ll be three quarters of the way there by morning.”

“Don’t be saying things like that if you don’t mean ‘em, baby,” Sam scolded, pouting slightly as his brain decided that Danny was just joking around with him. 

“You think I’d ever say that without meaning it?” Danny asked sternly, looking down his nose to look Sam straight in the eye. “Hey, look at me. Would it really be so ridiculous for me to start loving you, huh? You know I can’t get you out of my head, don’t you?”

Sam smiled and the sting of his misinterpreted understanding started to fade slightly as he cupped Danny’s face and kept their fierce eye contact.

“Can’t get you out of mine either, actually,” Sam admitted, his thumbs swiping lovingly over the dusting of freckles on the sweet apples of Danny’s cheeks. 

“Well, now,” Danny said slowly, his eyes darkening ever so slightly as his gaze dropped to Sam’s smiling lips. “That’s good to hear. You might be an outlaw, but you sure are sweet, aren’t you?”

Sam answered him with a kiss, enjoying the sound of the relieved rush Danny breathed in when their lips touched. The satisfaction of Danny’s gentle mouth on his made Sam melt against him like he always did, clinging on a little tighter as he realized Danny’s promise of never hating him was the honest truth. Danny’s arms went around Sam’s waist and held him just as tight.

“I really do love you,” Sam whispered against Danny’s lips, pecking his bottom lip as Danny let out a warm yet barely audible laugh, his breath sweet and feathery on Sam’s skin. 

“I love you, too, sweet thing,” Danny whispered back, nuzzling his nose against Sam’s before kissing him back twice as hard, swallowing the surprised sound that Sam made before it turned into a quiet whimper. 

“‘Course I love you,” Danny muttered against Sam’s lips now, musing only to himself. “Don’t be ridiculous. Doesn’t matter if you stole some money, honey, that’s only some paper we play with. What matters is that you stole my heart right out of my chest and that’s something I hope you never give back. It’s all yours.”

“I’ll keep it if you keep mine,” Sam teased, his chest rushing with light and fierce, genuine love as he marveled at Danny. Danny nodded in agreement, his shoulders relaxing and his muscles rolling under his thick flannel shirt and Sam’s touch simultaneously. 

“I’ll keep it safe,” Danny promised, kissing Sam’s palm and taking a moment simply to stare lovingly at Sam, his smile reaching his eyes and making them crinkle into beaming crescents. 

“I’m trusting you,” Sam hummed in a light, joking tone, but deep down he knew he really believed Danny. It’d been half a year with no reasons not to trust him, and if Danny was going to keep taking news of Sam’s sordid life before he had Danny in it this well, Sam realized he might have done something good with his life after all. 

“Trusting me has gone pretty well for you so far,” Danny purred, his hands pulling at Sam’s firm thighs and turning Sam to face him, keeping him firmly planted on Danny’s lap where he usually stayed when they were home. 

“You take awful good care of me,” Sam agreed. “Maybe I’m just keeping you around to keep me from being bad like I used to be when I was a bank robbing troublemaker.” 

“Well, you are very good for me,” Danny grinned, his hands starting to wander slightly over Sam’s lower half. “Most of the time.”

“Old habits die hard,” Sam smiled cheekily. “Sorry, cowboy.”

“Hey, that’s right,” Danny said as if it were a revelation. “Cowboys are usually the ones to keep ruthless outlaws like you in line. I’m just doing my duty.”

“You caught me,” Sam chuckled, holding his wrists together as if bound. “You gonna throw me in the county jail? Or should we have a shoot out instead?”

“No, no, we’ve got special procedures for the likes of you,” Danny growled facetiously, narrowing his eyes at Sam with a wry smile. “I’m going to have to keep you in my own private quarters to make sure you don’t get into any more trouble.”

“Little do you know I’m planning my great escape.”

“You gonna run?”

“You gonna let me?”

“Not a chance,” Danny hummed, his lips now grazing Sam’s as he gazed at him with eyes growing dark with hungry pupils. “I’ll tie you down before you even pick up a spoon to dig your way out.” 

Sam found himself shaken from their banter for a few long seconds to consider the imagery that Danny teased. It would be unheard of for Sam to breach anything even close to jealous when thinking about the poor cattle that Danny roped on the regular, but when Sam let himself think about his wrists restrained and Danny looming over him…

“Maybe I shouldn’t have given up my life of crime so easily,” Sam murmured, a wicked grin starting to creep onto his face. Despite being the one who had flirted with the prospect so easily, Danny’s face flickered with slight surprise at Sam’s sudden fire and subsequent onslaught of kisses along his neck and jaw. 

“Aw, I wouldn’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart,” Danny whispered, trying to keep his breathing even as Sam greedily kissed against Danny’s hot skin. “I don’t think I could bring myself to rough you up like a stubborn steer.”

Sam pulled back to give Danny another pitiful pout and Danny laughed, his hands now firmly on Sam’s waist.

“I guess I won’t let you have your way with me at all tonight, then,” Sam countered petulantly.

“As if you could bear it,” Danny argued, reaching up to pinch Sam’s cheek before gently moving Sam off of his lap so he could stretch and stand up. “C’mon, Sundance, let’s get you to bed before I start asking questions about why I’ve been paying for your drinks when you’ve been sitting on all those bags of cash.”

Sam hesitated before reaching a hand up for Danny to pull him to his feet, smoothing his shirt and breezing past him towards the bedroom with a smug smile on his face.

“You’re lucky I believe in Southern hospitality!” Danny called after him, following dutifully behind before advancing quickly on Sam and grabbing him from behind. Sam let out a surprised cry as Danny lifted him up before depositing him dramatically onto the bed, sitting down next to him and pulling off his boots while Sam rolled onto his stomach and watched.

“What're you thinking about now?” Danny pestered after they’d both gotten into their pajamas and slipped under the covers, Sam’s ear pressed to Danny’s chest and his consciousness already starting to slip. 

“Nothin’,” Sam answered truthfully. “Just you.” 

Danny let out a sentimental little hum, kissing the top of Sam’s head and letting the minutes stretch into comfortable, sleepy silence as the both of them began to drift. 

Just before he fell fully asleep, Sam let his memory take him back home for a short spell. The truth was there had been good times for them out in Kentucky, but it all seemed so small and simple compared to the taste of life he had found further south. It also seemed so silly to think he had spent so long convinced that he was going to spend the rest of his life defined by his worst moments when being nothing but himself had landed him here. Sam never thought he’d feel safe, but when he was next to Danny, he figured there was nowhere safer he could be.

---

[stardustbarbarians]

The Sound of Thunder

A Sam Kiszka / Daniel Wagner fic

Summary: When Sam was hired to catch Danny, he got more than he bargained for.

Tags: bounty hunter!Sam, outlaw!Danny, 1870s Arizona, getting together, slow burn, fluff, a touch of angst

Words: 14.9 k

A/N: Yeah when I said slow burn I meant it. I have no chill when it comes to cowboys. Couple of quick things: there's a character named Micah in this fic that is not based off of Josh's partner, but a character from rdr2 who I fucking hate. Secondly, I tried to be as period accurate as I could be (fun fact: did you know one of the most iconic Old West figures, Buffalo Bill, had long, curly hair?). Also, I referenced a certain singer multiple times in here; if you know who that is you win a gold star from me! Lastly, this fic's title is taken from Caught My Breath by Palace. Dedicated to @runwayblues. Enjoy!! <3

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“I’ve never been real good at startin’ stories,” the outlaw admitted, the left corner of his lip pulling upwards in a wry way. 

“Well, it sure is a good thing I’m looking for the truth rather than a story, ain’t it?” The other man’s boots made a heavy sound as they tapped down against the dusty wooden floor. A small metallic jingle resounded with each step as well, the spurs on his boots jostling as he circled the man tied to the chair in the center of the room. 

That got a scoff of a laugh from the outlaw. His dark eyes followed the bounty hunter that circled him like a vulture; that comparison itself almost made him laugh again. The outlaw always thought bounty hunters were like those carrion birds: earning their keep from other people’s kills. 

“Would you even believe me if I told it to ya?” the outlaw shot back, refusing to crane his neck as the bounty hunter walked behind him. 

The bounty hunter sighed deeply, an annoyed sound that came from his bones. It amused the outlaw to no end. 

“Just tell me what you were doin’ in Clearwater. Make it easy for the both of us,” the bounty hunter attempted to bargain, his patience wearing thin. He even pulled out his six-shot from its holster, twirling the weapon around on his finger just like his big brother taught him all those years ago. It wasn’t meant to be an intimidation method, at least not entirely. It had been a habit of his ever since that pearl-handled revolver had been passed down to him. 

“Why? Pissin’ you off has been the highlight of my week.” A borderline cruel laugh tumbled from the outlaw’s lips. His eyes glittered in the flame of the kerosene lamp that flickered on the desk in front of him - behind the bounty hunter - as he gazed into the quasi-lawman’s eyes. 

“Y’know,” the bounty hunter started, bending at his waist to be level with the current thorn in his side, refusing to be intimidated by his unwavering glare and only returning it ten-fold, “for a fella in real deep shit, you sure are pushing your goddamn luck.” 

The outlaw wet his lips before smiling. It wasn’t a friendly one, neither. It evoked images of snakes coiled up before striking, hammers on revolvers being cocked, and knives pressing into throats. 

“Ain’t that worrying you, pretty boy?” 

“What, that you don’t respect me? I already know you’re a fool.” 

That seemed to be just the right answer. That amusement finally reached the outlaw’s eyes, sending an involuntary shiver down the bounty hunter’s spine. 

“You sure I’m the fool?” 

As if on cue, a thunderous BOOM! ripped through the relative quiet of the immature night. The wall behind the bounty hunter of the single-room cabin the two were holed up in was blown clean open. The shockwave sent him to the ground, splinters showering down on him as the desk protected him from the major debris. The ringing in his ears muffled the sounds of men shouting, his head pounding from where it made contact with the floor. He would’ve been consumed by the darkness encroaching on his vision if it hadn’t been for the sensation of a boot toe turning him onto his back and the sharp sting of a large hand cracking him across the cheek. 

“That was fun, Kiszka! Let’s do it again sometime!” the outlaw hollered, his silhouette towering over him. He was cast in a silvery color, the light of the moon highlighting half of his face. His toothy smile seemed genuine, his amusement almost childlike as it scrunched up his prominent nose. 

“Deadeye, let’s go! The whole place is gonna go up like a torch!” a disembodied voice shouted from where the wall had been blown up. The outlaw’s attention was snapped to the voice, leaving the bounty hunter to feel a strange cold wash over him at the loss.

“Be right out!” he called back, his attention once again fixating back onto the bounty hunter. He pulled his pistol from where it was tucked into the bounty hunter’s belt, the man having confiscated it when he apprehended Deadeye. “Catch me if you can, pretty boy.” 

With a wink and a simultaneous click of his tongue, the outlaw dashed from the bounty hunter’s view and off to join his band of miscreants. Numerous hoofbeats followed shortly after, decrescendoing into the night. He could hear his own horse whinnying with fear as the cabin’s fire grew larger by the second. 

With what little strength he had, Sam Kiszka pulled himself out of the debris and splinters. Gathering what little he could with such short notice, he hurried off to where his trusty steed was tethered. His entire body ached as he mounted up, his teeth gritted against the pain. His face burned as he whipped his horse’s reins and the fire blazing at his back could not be blamed. 

That had been their first time meeting. Sam had been hired by the sheriff in the town of Clearwater to track down and capture the infamous “Deadeye” Wagner and his posse. There wasn’t anything concrete, but the sheriff was pretty damn sure the outlaw that had been terrorizing their state for nearly a year was to blame for the batch of cattle hustling and home robberies that had taken place while they were in town. 

“You’re our best hope,” the sheriff had spoken right after Sam was given Deadeye’s wanted poster. It wasn’t meant as a slight, Sam knew that. But, he read between the lines of that statement. 

You’re our best hope since we can’t hire your brothers. 

Josh and Jake had been the best trackers and bounty hunters the west had ever seen. They were always in demand, often getting job offers multiple times in a single day and having letters written to them asking for their help. There was not a single bounty they couldn’t bring to justice. 

Until Reno. 

Jake had caught that bullet in the throat and Josh couldn’t shake it. He quit the life right after he shot the bastard who killed Jake between the eyes. He lives up in the mountains somewhere now; Sam will write to him when he has the time. But, as it is, Sam was left to take on the family business. He didn’t know any other way of living, or else he might’ve been a ranch hand or something. 

The Kiszka name didn’t hold the same weight as it used to. And everyone knew that. Sure. Sam was good at his job, but his name no longer struck fear into the hearts of criminals like it had before Jake died. He wasn’t as good as the twins were and he could sense that gap in skill each time he took on a job. He could see the patronizing look in their eyes as they longed to be hiring his brothers in his stead. He could hear the “you’re not as good as them” in their words. He felt their forced respect with each interaction. 

But he kept doing his job. And he kept doing it well. He may not have had his brothers’ level of talent, but he was still far better than any other bounty hunter in the state. 

And that was why he was specifically reached out to in order to find Deadeye. It had taken him longer than it would have finding other bounties, but Deadeye was no ordinary bounty. When that whole incident went down with the Diamondback Gang blowing up a house and Sam losing some of his hearing in his left ear, he had been tracking them for two weeks before he was finally able to be in the same town. It was another few days before Sam could catch the elusive Deadeye on his own. 

Since then, it had been his personal mission to take down Deadeye himself. He didn’t focus solely on catching the bastard - he needed money for food - but he always kept his eye out for any possible lead. Most of them had been completely useless, oftentimes coming to him when it was far too late and the Diamondbacks had already moved on. But, just as a broken clock is right twice a day, Sam will receive useful information from time to time. 

And that was how Sam had found himself being the one tied to the chair this time around. 

“Y’know, I was expectin’ you to show up again. But this certainly wasn’t how I pictured it,” Deadeye drawled, leaning against the far wall and cast in shadow. Sam watched as the pocket knife he was tossing in his hand would catch the light of the kerosene lamp hanging from the ceiling. 

“I’m almost afraid to ask what this daydream entailed,” Sam shot back, wriggling against the rough rope as it cut into his wrists. He knew they were going to be raw when he got out of them, he just hoped they didn’t end up bloody by the end. 

Deadeye chuckled at the statement, the sound reminiscent of thunder roiling. He pushed off from the wall, his boots heavily hitting the ground to fill the void of voices. It was just the two of them in that cellar; Deadeye had sent the rest of the Diamondbacks up to the house they had commandeered. Deadeye was sure to inform Sam that the house had belonged to a vile bastard who preyed on women. And, while it was still wrong to hang the man by dragging him behind his horse, Sam can’t say he was particularly upset with the outlaw for his actions. 

“We’ll just say that there was a lot less rope involved… and a lot more whiskey.” 

“Hell, if you’re offerin’ I’d sure as shit love a nip.” Sam never let his eyes stray from his captor’s face, but he also made sure to pay attention to the man’s hand that sat on his gun belt. While he was tossing the knife with his right hand, everyone knew that Deadeye’s left hand was the one you should fear. He was the only left-handed draw in the state and the only one worth their salt in the whole country. 

That earned Sam a laugh. A genuine one. It was saturated in smoke and rattled in his chest - no doubt a side effect of having been shot there a handful of years ago. But, nonetheless, it burned good as it hit his ears just like a good hard liquor slides down your throat. 

“I knew I liked you,” the outlaw declared, finally slipping his hunting knife back into its spot next to the gun hanging from his hip. Immediately, it was replaced by a flask the man had pulled out from the inside breast pocket of his vest. 

He uncapped it and took a pull of his own, walking slowly to the spot right in front of Sam. The bounty hunter watched as the man’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the chords in his neck flexing as he tipped his head back. 

“You sure it’s a good idea to get drunk? Considerin’ you’re in the clutches of the man you’ve been huntin’ for months?” Deadeye asked after pulling the flask away from his lips. 

“The way I see it: if I’m gonna die, might as well get to enjoy something on the way out,” Sam professed, nodding his head towards the silver, engraved drink vessel. 

Wagner obliged, carefully pressing the opening of the flask to Sam’s lips. The bounty hunter tipped his head back, taking a long pull of the liquor. It burned as it slid down his gullet, but it didn’t stop him from taking another gulp. He maintained the eye contact he held with the outlaw, something burning in him that couldn’t be blamed on the whiskey. 

“You think I’m gonna kill you?” Deadeye questioned, capping the flask before slipping it back into his vest pocket. There was a very faint quiver in his voice that was easily missed if you weren’t paying attention. It was hushed with a clearing of the outlaw’s throat. 

“That, or you’re tryna see just how much someone is willin’ to pay to set me free.” Sam wet his lips to catch the bead of whiskey that had pilled on his bottom lip. He watched as something strange happened to the outlaw’s eyes in the flickering lamplight. 

“That so?” 

“I’ll just go ahead and save you the trouble, friend. Ain’t no one out there willin’ to spend a single cent on me,” Sam sardonically groused. He felt his temper worsen at his own words. 

Deadeye just watched his captive for a while. There seemed to be something brewing underneath that curly head of hair he had, and Sam had the distinct feeling he wasn’t gonna like the outcome. Now that the man knew Sam was practically worthless, he knew he was living off of borrowed time. There was a possibility - however slim - of him making it out of there alive, but he needed a distraction. 

“That ain’t what I heard,” Deadeye finally responded. 

“What you mean?” Sam had the distinct feeling Deadeye was toying with him, like he was luring Sam into a room only to pull the rug out from under him and get him to tumble unceremoniously to the ground. He didn’t like it at all. 

Deadeye shrugged, his arms crossing over his chest after sitting down in the only other chair in the place. Even in the limited light of the kerosene flame, Sam could see the way his shirt strained against the outlaw’s shoulders. 

“The way I hear it, you’re the number one bounty hunter in the state. Costs a pretty penny to hire you.” Wagner had leaned back in the chair, his posture perfectly relaxed. 

Kiszka couldn’t help the scoff that tumbled from his lips. Bringing up his rate… how ridiculous. “People don’t pay a ransom for their tools.” 

“They would if they were smart. In this instance.” 

Sam gazed quizzically at his captor, as if he were a puzzle and the pieces were all scrambled. 

“You’re the only bastard who’s been able to track me down twice,” Deadeye finally elaborated after Sam kept giving him a funny look. 

While he talked, Sam slowly slid his leg back so that he could reach into his boot. 

“Typically the ‘bastards’ who hunt you down don’t live too long after they find you,” Sam bit, the venom in his voice not intentional. 

The outlaw laughed once more, this one having almost a nostalgic twang to it. 

“That just makes you one of a kind, pretty boy.” 

The nickname gave the bounty hunter pause. He’d called Sam that before during their first meeting. It should have irritated him. It really should have. 

“Why ain’t you killed me?” is what Sam asked. What he really meant was what makes me different? 

“I already told you,” Wagner started, his voice sounding like honey as he leaned forward in the chair to look deeper into Sam’s eyes, “I like you.”

“Why?” 

Deadeye chuckled, a short little scoff of a laugh, and leaned back in his chair once more. “‘Cause. You’re fun.” 

It was Sam’s turn to scoff. 

“All we done is tie each other up. And your boys blowin’ me half to hell,” Sam quipped, the ringing in his left ear somehow getting louder at the memory. 

“Yeah, but you seem to be forgettin’ exactly how you got me in that chair. I ain’t never been bush-whacked by a fella who lassoed me first,” Deadeye admitted, amusement dripping from his tone and from the toothy grin he wore. 

The rope around Sam’s wrists loosened. He slowly and carefully closed the small pocket knife before slipping it back into his boot. 

“You say that like you often get kidnapped,” Sam dryly pointed out, carefully unwinding the rope from his wrists and coiling it up in his hands. He was diligently keeping his wrists together, miming that they were still tied up. 

“You said it yourself. I’ve been hunted down quite a lot in my time.” Sam had wished that Wagner had taken off his hat so that he might see the outlaw’s eyes. Something told him from the way that he kept his voice carefully level, Deadeye was masking how he truly felt about that. Something that his eyes wouldn’t be able to hide. Was he mad? Scared? Amused? Sam was dying to know. For what reason it made his curiosity burn, Kiszka couldn’t tell you. 

There was a beat where Deadeye waited for the bounty hunter to speak. Like a breath being held, there was a palpable pause as they both waited for conversation. And Sam did answer. 

But it wasn’t with words. 

Sam took the opportunity to lunge at his opponent and tackle him to the ground. Both of their chairs fell to the ground with a thunderous CRASH! and Deadeye’s even splintered into hundreds of pieces as it took the weight of both fully grown men. The bounty hunter used the rope he cut off his wrists to press into Wagner’s throat; not enough pressure to choke the man to death, but enough that the outlaw knew Sam could do that if he needed to. He straddled the man under him, his knees on either side of Deadeye’s hips. 

For some strange reason, and before Sam could even voice his demands, the outlaw started to laugh. It wasn’t a pure laugh like a child’s, but one that was full of a twisted kind of delight. The bastard had a cocky smile on his lips, the left corner of his mouth pulling up in a crooked, toothy grin. It made a shiver go down Sam’s spine, one that he had to suppress from wracking his entire body. 

“Well, partner, you have my full attention, now,” Deadeye breathed, both of his hands facing upwards in a show of his surrender to Sam. It was a strange thing. 

Sam pulled Deadeye’s revolver out of the man’s holster and pointed it right at his head. “You let me walk right on outta here and no one has to die, alright?” 

They both knew that Deadeye was the stronger man of them both. If he wanted, he could turn the tides of this situation in the blink of an eye. Yet, for some reason, he was letting Sam be in control. 

No doubt in reaction to the commotion Sam had caused when he attacked their boss, a few of the Diamondbacks burst through the door of the cellar the two men were in. Kiszka instantly turned the gun to them out of instinct, noting how they each had a rifle or revolver of their own. 

“You sneaky BASTARD! He got the boss!” One of them yelled, causing Sam to point the gun right back at Deadeye’s head. 

“Make one wrong move and I’ll paint this floor with his brains, you hear?!” Kiszka shouted back, his free hand fisting Wagner’s shirt collar and pressing him harder into the floor. 

“Ohhhhhh, we all know you ain’t got the stomach for that, pretty boy,” the same man hissed, bringing his rifle up to his eye and pulling on the lever to rack in a shot. 

Sam bristled at the usage of the nickname. 

“You wanna take that chance?” Sam slowly threatened, never breaking eye contact with that particular Diamondback. 

“Lucky I’m-”

“Enough!” 

Deadeye’s voice cut through the air. It was a commanding presence, one that even made Sam obey. Though, given the way that Deadeye was looking at his crew, Sam was not the one he directed that order to. 

There wasn’t another word uttered out of Wagner’s mouth. Yet, somehow, he made his crew lower their weapons. Reluctantly, of course, if the way they all still gripped their guns tightly and kept their fingers on the trigger was any indication. Each one wore a scowl that could curdle milk. 

Finally, Deadeye’s attention fell back onto Sam. Despite being the one with the gun pressed into his temple, Sam couldn’t shake the feeling that Wagner was in control. 

“Let ‘em go, boys,” the outlaw smoothly ordered, his eyes never leaving Sam’s. From this proximity, Sam saw that they were a light brown with hints of green in them. They reminded Sam of a mossy tree you might see in a cold forest after a heavy rain. 

“What!?” the Diamondback that Sam was arguing with earlier hissed, clearly unhappy with that decision. 

“Isaiah, get Micah outta here! Before I slit his throat!” Deadeye waved his hand animatedly at the men above his head. It was the first time Sam had witnessed the outlaw’s infamous rage. He’d heard about it from the survivors of his gang’s attacks and read about it, too. But it was much more powerful experiencing it first-hand. And Sam had the feeling he’d only seen a glimpse of it. 

Just like he’d asked, one of the Diamondbacks - Isaiah - grabbed the confrontational member - Micah - and dragged him out of the room. From the looks of it, no one was upset at this change. 

“You’re good, Sam,” Deadeye praised, that dark amusement back in his tone as he slowly rose to his elbows, “real good.” 

Sam slowly pulled the gun off of the outlaw’s temple, but kept the barrel pointed at him. You couldn’t be too careful when facing down a predator. 

“Your skills, well…” Wagner slid out from under Sam, getting to his feet with Sam quick to follow, “You certainly live up to the stories, if not more so.” 

“I don’t rightly get you, friend,” the bounty hunter huffed, his frustration at Deadeye’s confusing treatment of him finally showing outwardly. At least a little. 

Wagner chuckled. “‘Course you wouldn’t. Not yet, at least.” He said the last part under his breath. 

Even though Sam was still pointing his own gun at him, Deadeye seemed to be as relaxed as a lizard sunbathing on a rock. His hands were still up in surrender, yet it seemed more of a formality than an act of self-preservation. 

The outlaw jerked his head towards the door where his men were watching everything go down, their guns still lowered but trigger fingers in position waiting to pounce. “Go on out. They won’t give you no trouble, I promise.” 

Sam cast his eyes towards the stairs quickly, placing them back onto Deadeye. While still facing his opponent, Sam made side-steps towards the exit. He still kept the gun trained on the outlaw as insurance that his posse wouldn’t shoot him in the back. 

Just as he made it up the stairs and to the threshold, Deadeye called out to him. “Oh, and Sam? Think about what I said.” 

The bounty hunter felt that confused frustration shoot through his bloodstream again. Involuntarily, his hand clenched around the handle of the revolver. “About what, exactly? You said a lotta things.” 

“You’re an intelligent man, pretty boy. You’ll figure it out,” Wagner answered, his tone bordering on a whisper as his voice smoothly flowed from his lips. His smirk was dripping with that twisted amusement, giving Sam the feeling of a predator toying with his food. 

Before Deadeye could change his mind about setting Sam free, the man booked it for his horse. Sam whipped his mare’s reins and had her take off into a full gallop, wanting to put as much distance between him and that confusing criminal as possible. 

It wasn’t until after he’d finally stopped to rest for the night that the bounty hunter realized he’d still possessed Deadeye’s revolver. 

+++

The next time they met was a complete accident. 

No, really. 

Sam hadn’t taken to pursuing the Diamondbacks for months. He wanted to leave them be for the time being. And it wasn’t because of the confounding way that Deadeye made Sam feel. It wasn’t that at all so don’t even try to accuse Sam of that. 

It’s just that- well- Sam was busy. He did have a life outside of Deadeye and his band of miscreants. And that life included tracking down other criminals so that he could feed himself and his horse, Sundown. 

In fact, it was while he was chasing one of those other law breakers that he found himself in Deadeye Wagner’s company once more. They were following the same lead, it seemed. 

“You lookin’ for Cotton Jenny, too?” the general store owner questioned, not even bothering to look up from the ledger he was scribbling in to address Sam. Kiszka was surprised, to say the least. 

“Yes, sir. How’d you know?” Sam answered, adjusting the bandana around his neck as a nervous habit. 

“Son, I’ve been ‘round long enough to know a bounty hunter when I see one,” the shop owner answered irately, his big, grey eyebrows furrowing as he continued to write in his ledger. 

Kiszka had to suppress a scoff. “Only people who recognize bounty hunters are other bounty hunters… and crooks.” 

The proprietor ceased writing, finally looking up from his book. His wrinkled face told the story of a hard-fought man - a tired one. One that gave credence to the saying “beware of a man who grew old in an environment where people die young”. 

“We all got our pasts, boy,” he darkly growled like a greying attack dog. 

“Sure,” Sam drawled, his spurs jingling as he took a step towards the old man, “and some of us can’t outrun ‘em.” 

The shopkeep laughed; one single, dry cough of absurdity. “You say that like you got ghosts followin’ you.” 

“Just like you said, we all got our pasts, mister,” Sam spoke placatingly, taking another step towards the old man, shrugging his shoulders as he rested his hands on his gun belt, “and right now, the only past I’m interested in is Cotton Jenny’s. And if you help me, I’ll make it worth your while.” 

The shopkeeper and the bounty hunter stared at one another for a moment, each one deciding how they felt about the other and preparing for if that opinion was bad. But, like a frozen river breaks like a bone in a spring thaw, Sam watched as a smile slowly crept up under that bushy, white mustache. 

“I like you, kid.” Sam’s mind echoed those same words in Deadeye’s voice. It had been months, yet he could still hear his voice like he was next to his ear. 

Sam felt his shoulders relax, realizing he wasn’t in imminent danger any longer. He never let his hand stray from his gun belt, though. He knew better. 

“I’m bettin’ you’re wantin’ to know where she’s holed up,” the shopkeeper inferred, closing his ledger as a signal to Sam that he had the man’s attention. 

“Yes, sir. Any information you’ve got on her would be helpful.” Sam nodded his head, having to adjust his hat as it slid down on his forehead a touch. 

“Last anyone heard, she was seen hidin’ with her gang ‘round Cherokee Bend. If you follow the river south a ways, you’ll see a bend in the bank. Keep goin’ a bit off the beaten path, there’s an old cabin there.” 

Sam repeated the directions in his head twice. He didn’t want to get a single detail wrong. With a nod of his head, Sam reached into his satchel and pulled out a bill fold. 

“Thank you,” he politely hummed, setting the five dollars in singles on the counter. The metal clip made a dull thud against the worn wood of the counter, the light green stark against the elm board. 

Just as Sam lifted up the handle of the shop door and pulled it open, the store clerk called after him. 

“Jenny’s got a real big price on her head, son. That tends to draw in other folk who might not be so honest,” he warned, his tobacco soaked throat making his voice gruff and scratchy. It spoke of experience, his warning.

Sam simply hummed a small laugh, glancing over his shoulder at the man. “I know, sir.” He spoke from experience, too. 

And with that, Sam tipped his hat to the store owner and walked out into the burning sun of the evening. His stomach grumbled in anger, reminding the man that he hadn’t eaten since the morning. And while he still had canned food in his saddle bags, He’d rather get shot in the stomach than have to force down that metallic tasting sludge again. Goddamnit, he’d pay the odd sum of dollars to get a fresh cooked meal. 

So that pointed his boots in the direction of the saloon. 

Usually, he tended to stay away from whiskey bars and gin joints as much as he could. That was where most of his enemies would reside drinking themselves stupid. And, truly, there was nothing more dangerous to his health than a man with a gun and a mind full of liquor. Especially since his family had put away the most criminals this side of the Mississippi. That created a lot of enemies. 

With that in mind, Sam strode into the saloon and cautiously scanned the room. No one immediately stood out to him, which was always a good sign. It was early enough in the day that the patrons weren’t very drunk yet, but it was clear that many of the men were not on their first drink of the day. 

Kiszka kept his hand close to his gun as he walked, but never made the mistake of touching it. That was a sure-fire way to start a fight. He was able to reach the bar without incident, ordering himself a cut of pork loin, greens, and potatoes. And a beer. What? He never said he didn’t drink. 

While Sam waited for his meal to arrive, he tried his best to keep his head down. His head had been pounding from the moment he opened his eyes, and the only relief he got was when he closed them. Though his sight was removed, his sense of hearing sharpened. He could hear the rumble of conversation, the clink of glasses, the thud of boots, and the door opening. But he kept his eyes shut.

That was his first mistake. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” a familiar drawl voiced to Sam’s left, a sense of cold dread washing over the bounty hunter as he recognized the speaker, “Pretty Boy Kiszka, as I live and breathe!” 

“Wagner,” Sam blandly greeted, not even bothering to even look his way, much less open his eyes.

“Awwww, don’t be like that! Ain’t you happy to see an old friend?” Deadeye threw his arm around Sam’s shoulders, jostling the man and nearly making him lose his balance. 

“We ain’t friends,” Sam growled, throwing the unwanted touch off of him. He shot the criminal a scowl pointed enough to kill a man. He should’ve known that wouldn’t deter the likes of Deadeye. 

“Sure we are,” Deadeye drawled, cozying up right next to Kiszka. The bounty hunter just rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment. At that point, he figured it would be less of a fuss to just let Deadeye do his thing then try to shove him away. 

“What brings you to the humble little town of Acacia?” Wagner trudged on, willfully ignoring all of Sam’s cues to leave him alone. 

“Ain’t no business of yours,” Sam hissed, the bartender finally placing his meal and drink down in front of him. He immediately took a swig of his beer, needing something to get through this interaction. 

For a brief moment, Deadeye didn’t say or do anything. He watched Sam as the man ate his dinner with intensely intrigued eyes. Almost as if he was studying his every move; like that would give him the answers he sought. 

“You’re goin’ after Cotton Jenny.” It was a fact. That’s how he said it. As certain as death coming his way one day, Sam was going after Cotton Jenny. 

Sam made his next mistake here. He froze. His fork was halfway to his mouth when his entire body went rigid. That was all the confirmation needed. 

The outlaw wore a satisfied grin on his face and leaned his elbows on the bar, his back pressing into the wooden counter. 

“That’s a risky business to take on all by your lonesome, cowboy,” Danny continued, his voice dripping with something saccharin. If Sam hadn’t known any better, he would’ve guessed the man was flirting.

“Who said I was alone?” 

The smile on Deadeye’s face at Sam’s comment made him realize he’d played right into the outlaw’s hands. He wanted to pound his head into the wall for his stupidity. 

“I know you, Kiszka. You ain’t ran with no one since your brothers.” 

So what if he was right? Sam didn’t like the idea of this outlaw pretending to be friendly with him. 

“If you got a point, Wagner, I suggest you make it and quick.” Sam’s jaw was clenched together as he spoke. 

“Let us ride with ya.” It was as plain as that. At least, that’s what Deadeye’s tone suggested. But Sam knew there was a catch. He wanted something out of this deal. 

“And I suppose that means you and your posse get a cut of the reward, too?” Kiszka scoffed, finally taking a bite of pork. It was a little dry, but, damn if it weren’t better than the shit he’d been eating out of cans for weeks. 

“The money’s all yours, Pretty Boy.” 

Now it was Sam’s turn to study the outlaw. There was a knit in his brow as his eyes scanned Deadeye for any hint of deception. It was too good to be true. 

“Bullshit,” Sam called, taking another drink of his beer and shaking his head. 

“We don’t need it. Me and the boys just- well… You’ll be readin’ ‘bout it in the papers soon enough.” Deadeye leaned in towards Sam as he spoke, mere inches away from one another. Sam ignored the way his husky tone made him want to shiver.  

“I should arrest you for that,” Sam argued, his voice also dipping towards the sultry side. He wasn’t aware of his tone or else he wouldn’t have employed it. Which makes it all the more incriminating. 

“But you won’t,” Wagner confidently purred, his eyes darting down to the bounty hunter’s lips as he leaned even closer. 

Many eyes in the saloon were fixated on the pair, now. Not that either of them noticed. They were all waiting for one of the men to throw a punch at the other. To spit in the other’s face. To grab them by the lapels and throw them to the ground. That was how tense the air was between the two figures. 

“So, we doin’ this or not?” Deadeye asked after the two continued to stare at one another for too long. 

Sam sighed and looked down at his plate. He bought himself some time to think as he took another bite of his dinner. While he hated to admit it, Deadeye was right. Going on this job by himself was dangerous. Then again, he went on every job by himself no matter the danger. But Cotton Jenny’s price was high for a reason. 

Can you trust him?

That was the big question, wasn’t it? Could he trust Wagner with his life? He had spared Sam twice, now. But those times were different. There would be gunfights, bloodshed, and possibly death. How did he know Wagner wouldn’t tuck tail and run? 

Taking one more drink of beer, Sam made his third mistake of the night. “Fine. But we’re doin’ this my way, got it?” Kiszka growled. He slammed the bottle onto the bar, turning to look the outlaw in the eyes. 

“Of course, boss. Your word is my command,” Wagner agreed, making a show of splaying his hands out and lowering his head to submit to Sam. It made the bounty hunter’s hackles rise. 

“Meet me at the milliner’s in an hour. Gives you enough time to gather your crew,” Sam mumbled, shaking his head at the display. He felt his lip curl back in disgust at Deadeye and his “submission” the longer he thought about it. 

“You need a new hat, m’lady?” Deadeye joked, poking fun at the location Sam chose. 

“Get outta here and let me finish my goddamn meal!” Kiszka barked, nudging the outlaw away from him and towards the door. He grudgingly followed the order, Deadeye’s boots jangling with each heavy step. 

“Hey,” the bounty hunter called out before Deadeye could reach for the door handle, “don’t make me regret this.” 

Wagner’s lips pulled up at one corner. He tipped his hat in acknowledgement before disappearing out the door. 

This is one of the stupidest ideas you’ve ever had, Kiszka. 

+++

Two hours or so after they had met up at the south end of town, they made their way back with Cotton Jenny hogtied on the back of Sam’s horse, Sundown. It had gone surprisingly well for them; not a single death on their side and only one injury. Good ol’ Micah had gone and gotten himself grazed by a bullet in the side. Lotta blood, but nothing too serious as long as he saw a doctor. With the way he was belly aching about it, though, you’d assume he was taking his final breaths. 

“Son of a BITCH!!” He cried for the fourth time as they followed the river back towards Acacia. 

“Oh, can it, would ya??” Isaiah cried, finally fed up with his acquaintance’s bluster. 

“Why we lettin’ Pretty Boy get the money, huh? We did all the hard work!” Micah griped, nudging his horse closer to Deadeye’s. 

“Cause I said so.” Deadeye left no room for argument. Yet, the annoying bastard was able to find that tiny margin for error. 

“You’re turnin’ soft, Deadeye,” Micah spat. 

“You wanna ‘nother bullet in ya, Micah? Cause we both know I ain’t one to miss,” Deadeye hissed at his subordinate. He even went so far as to draw his pistol from its holster and point it between Micah’s eyes. 

“That’s enough!” Sam yelled, cutting through the argument. “Isaiah, Virgil, take Micah with ya to the doctor’s. Deadeye, you ride with me to the city lock up. Ain’t nobody shootin’ no one, is that clear?” 

All the other men begrudgingly sighed, doing as ordered. Isaiah and Virgil, the fourth man to join from Deadeye’s crew, escorted Micah to the doctor’s office, having to veer off of the path Deadeye and Sam were taking to get to the North end of town faster. That left Deadeye and Sam by themselves. With Cotton Jenny of course. 

She had started making these panicked noises a little bit into the trip, catching the outlaw’s attention. 

“What’s up with her?” 

Sam glanced at the woman tied up on his horse. He noticed how she kept trying to get the gag off that Deadeye had stuffed into her mouth. 

“She can’t breathe,” Sam answered, reaching around with a hand free from his reins and pulling the cloth out of her mouth. It was hard enough breathing on the back of a horse when the damn thing was bucking into your ribs, Sam should know. 

As soon as he pulled it out, Jenny started gasping for breath. It was only a matter of time before she started yelling. 

“Deadeye, you rotten son of a bitch!! I oughta skin you and bleed you dry!!” 

Sam couldn’t help the laugh that burst from his lips. That certainly wasn’t what he was expecting. 

“Usually I’m the one gettin’ cursed out,” Sam admitted, an amused smile on his face as he watched Wagner change color. 

“You yellow, no good, RAT! You’re a lyin’ snake with no goddamn guts!!” Jenny continued, ignoring Sam completely. 

“That’s enough, Jen,” Deadeye hissed, the warning very clear in his words. 

“You sold me out to the law! Not only that, you helped bring me in all ‘cause some pretty boy batted his lashes at ya!!” 

“What’s she talkin’ ‘bout?” Sam inquired, searching the other man’s face. There was anger burning in his eyes, no doubt, but underneath that was something that looked like embarrassment on the outlaw’s face. 

“Dunno,” Wagner attempted. Sam was starting to realize just how bad of a liar Deadeye was. 

“Bullshit! We had a deal-”

“And deals can go sour, can’t they? You’d know that better than anyone, Jennifer,” Wagner spat at the woman, a sneer curling his lips. 

Sam was only left more puzzled than before. 

“C’mon. We’re wastin’ time,” Deadeye quickly said before urging his horse to speed up. It wasn’t long before Wagner was far up ahead of Sam and Cotton Jenny. 

Feeling thoroughly lost, Sam had Sundown pick up speed as well. He couldn’t push her as hard as Deadeye’s gelding, given the extra weight on her back. 

“You ruined everything,” the woman spat after a minute or two in silence. 

“Yeah, yeah. Heard it all before. I suggest you save your breath for the judge,” Sam tiredly responded. His headache still hadn’t let up and he just wanted some goddamn quiet. 

“Everythin’ was fine ‘tween us ‘til you came ‘round.” 

That struck Kiszka like a bolt of lightning. 

“You mean…” 

There was a bitter silence from Cotton Jenny. It was all the confirmation Sam needed. 

“Deadeye goes through women like cigars. He’ll use ‘em ‘til he gets bored and finds himself a new one,” Jenny sourly spat. There was a loneliness underneath her vitriol. 

The bounty hunter’s head felt like it was spinning like a top. 

“My advice? Don’t get too comfortable. He’ll get bored with ya sooner or later.” 

“Why are you tellin’ me this?” Sam asked, feeling extremely disoriented despite knowing exactly where he was. 

Cotton Jenny laughed at Sam. It wasn’t a pretty sound. 

“It’s a good thing you’re pretty, bounty hunter. ‘Cause clearly that head of yours ain’t made for thikin’.” 

Even though the rest of the ride went by in silence, Sam’s head was louder than cannon fire. His mind kept racing through everything Cotton Jenny had said, repeating it over and over again on a loop. And just as usual, Sam felt confounded when it came to Deadeye and his motivations. 

When they finally reached the sheriff's office, Sam was relieved to finally be rid of Cotton Jenny and her confusing words. Deadeye was waiting by the building already, horse hitched and leaning against a pillar with a smoke between his lips. Sam hitched Sundown right next to Deadeye’s gelding, using his knife to cut the rope around Jenny’s ankles before pulling her off the horse. 

“No sudden moves and you get to keep your head intact, got it?” Sam threatened, his off-hand pistol pressed into her pretty black hair at the back of her head. 

“I see why you like this one so much,” Cotton Jenny commented to Deadeye, a sourness to her tone. 

No one said a word as Wagner opened the door to the sheriff’s, watching Sam as he walked past. Sam wasted no time marching the woman into an open cell and slamming the door behind her. He was given half of the reward right then, being told to come back next week for the rest of it when payroll came. 

“You did real good back there,” Wagner warmly complimented, blowing smoke from his lips, “like you fit right in with us.” 

“Don’t.” was all Sam said. He rubbed at his temple with his free hand, his headache only worsening since Wagner approached him at the saloon. The constant ringing in his left ear, usually only a minor inconvenience, was now excruciating to his poor head. He wanted nothing more than to sit in a dark, silent room for days. 

The outlaw held up his hands in surrender. He took a solitary step back, a display to placate Sam and nothing more. There was no real danger Kiszka posed - to Wagner, anyway - and they both knew that. 

It was during this mock display that he noticed the gun Sam was holding. 

“Nice pistol ya got there, pretty boy,” Deadeye drawled, his voice reminiscent of dripping honey. 

Sam, slightly confused about the rapid change of topic, looked down at the revolver still in his hand. It was a custom one; one only a man with money to burn could pay for. Gold inlays on the blackened steel glowed in the moonlight shining down on them. Right below the hammer was an etched eye, the crying thing Xed out in gold. 

Sam knew instantly what Deadeye was doing. It was his gun, after all. The one Sam had stolen from him the last time they were face to face. He decided to play dumb. He looked between the outlaw and the gun like he thought Wagner was acting strange. 

“What about it?” 

Deadeye caught his eye. The knowing smirk sent a chill down Sam’s spine. 

“Just looks real familiar, is all.” Wagner shrugged his shoulders, a lazy gesture that almost felt too casual. Like he practiced it. 

That was when Sam “realized”. When he forced his face to light up in recognition and shot his eyebrows up. “Oh,” he mumbled. 

The gun wasn’t balanced well enough for him to spin it around his finger gracefully, but he did so anyway. He allowed the weapon to dance in his hand before holding it by the cylinder and barrel, extending the handle towards the outlaw. 

A silent moment passed between them. A moment where, even in the rapidly cooling desert night where bugs and beasts were aplenty, you could hear someone’s heartbeat. And Sam did; only it was his own. He forced his hand to steady as he kept it held out, watching Deadeye watch him. The outlaw kept his hands rested on his gun belt, all fluid lines and casual nature that was most certainly practiced. 

It had to be a trick of the light. There was no way Wagner’s eyes were able to glitter in the manner that they did as he huffed out a warm, amused laugh. 

“Keep it. You took it from me, fair and square.” Wagner left the steps of the sheriff’s office. It seemed he remembered there was also a price on his head. 

Sam felt his headache crash into him like a gunshot, making him wince and have to brace himself against the pillar to his left. By the time he opened his eyes again, Deadeye was mounted up and pointing his horse down the road. 

“It looks better with you, anyway.” His compliment was accented by a smile bright enough to blind a man. 

“Where are you headin’?” Sam called out. He had to ignore the compliment. It had too many implications that Sam was not equipped with understanding in his hindered state. 

“That would ruin the fun if I told ya, wouldn’t it?” Once again, his voice sounded like dripping honey. 

Kiszka let out a frustrated growl. “For once would ya just answer my goddamn questions??” 

Deadeye laughed. It was hearty and forceful, enough to make his head tip back like a wolf howling at the moon. 

“See ya around, cowboy,” Deadeye drawled, permeated by a wink that made something flutter in Sam’s chest. Then, he whipped his gelding’s reins and tore off into the night. 

Sam watched him go. He wasn’t quite sure why. He knew he wasn’t going to go after the outlaw. But once his form completely vanished from view, Sam huffed a sigh and shoved his gifted revolver into its holster. 

+++

It was cold, now. Even though he was still technically in the desert, Sam watched his breath ghost out in front of him as he pulled his wool-lined coat tighter around his shoulders. Guess that was to be expected in the mountains in February. Thankfully, the heavy snow had let up. No longer did he have to wonder if anyone would be able to find his and Sundown’s bodies under 6 feet of snow. 

The snow that was falling right now was the kind that was more atmospheric. They were small flakes that lazily, yet gracefully, floated onto the ground. Barely enough to dust the top of his hat or Sundown’s mane. Still pretty all the same. Even though he spent his days in the scorching sand, Sam had always loved the snow. It reminded him of home; of simpler times when his brothers were still around. 

Speaking of: that’s where he was off to. To see his brother, not back east. It had been one of the very rare instances where Sam wasn’t working. That’s not to say that people weren’t trying to hire his services. He was sure there was going to be a pile of letters addressed to him when his vacation was over. 

No, Sam was taking a break for a while. His last job, well… Let’s just say it was way too close to Jake’s last job. And that was when he realized he hadn’t seen Josh in… shit, two years. So, he wrote his big brother a letter and packed for a long journey. 

He was almost there. It was at the point where Sam was close enough that he could make it to Josh’s cabin by daylight. But Sundown was getting tired. He knew she was. So, instead of going right at the fork in the road, Sam went left. Josh had mentioned there was a town with an inn nearby if he needed it. And if the signage was to be believed, he had just reached it. 

It wasn’t a big town. Then again, lumber towns really weren’t. Unlike Tombstone, lumber didn’t offer the promise of “get rich, quick!!” like the silver industry had. So there was no rush to live in the town of Cedarville. But, it had a general store, blacksmith, an inn, and a stable. So, all things considered, a nice little town. 

Kiszka stabled Sundown for the night, paying the extra few cents needed to get her an extra blanket in this chilly weather. He gave her a few pats on the nose and the explicit instructions to get some rest before he made his way to the inn next door. It was warm; something he first noticed when pushing through the door. Even though the snow had stopped, the wind decided to pick up, cutting through any layer of protection Sam might have had. 

When he stumbled inside, he took his hat off and left it on the rack. He shook his long hair out, feeling the strands smack against his cheeks after they were released from their prison inside his hat. It felt as if the cold would never leak out of his bones, but damn if he wasn’t gonna try. He kept his jacket on, walking over to the bartender slinging whiskey and gin to jovial, ruddy-faced patrons. 

“What can I do ya for, partner?” the barkeep inquired, offering a kind smile that reached his eyes. 

“Got any rooms left?” Sam cut right to the chase, a chill racking his bones despite the burning parlor stove at his right. 

The man’s smile dimmed at the question. Sam’s heart sank. 

“Hate to tell ya this, friend, but a man came in here yesterday and booked all the rooms available. Sorry, friend.” And Sam truly believed him. That he was sorry. 

With a huff, the bounty hunter hung his head. It was just his luck, wasn’t it? 

“You know anywhere else I can rest for the night?” Sam had questioned, trying his best to keep his bone-tired weariness out of his words. He was certain he failed. 

“You can try Mrs. Cohen’s down the way… she’s a widow with a boarder. Maybe she’s got somethin’ for ya. But I wouldn’t hold your breath,” the middle-aged man sighed. He produced a cloth from one of the pockets in his apron to wipe up a wet spot from a patron’s spilled libation. 

Sam nodded his head in thanks, a deep sigh slipping out of his lungs. He knew he had to go back out in that weather. He had just started to get a little bit warmer, too. 

Before he could even get his hat off the hat rack, however, he had been stopped by one of the patrons. 

“Hey, I know you,” he slurred, a dopey grin on his lips. .

“I’m sure ya do, partner,” Sam groused, being polite as he could feel with his mood souring at the prospect of freezing his balls off again. He flashed the man a tight smile before turning towards the door, hat in his hand. 

“You’re pretty boy, ain’t ya? Pretty boy… Keys?” 

Sam froze. He could feel his muscles turn to stone as the words reached his ears. 

“Nah. That ain’t it. Kiss-ya!” 

There was only one person who called him by that name. 

“Kiszka,” Sam corrected, his fingernails digging into his palms. My damn bad luck. 

“Kiszka! That’s the one! Pretty Boy Kiszka! No fuckin’ way - Deadeye was just talkin’ about you!” The drunk patron’s voice was thundering. It was loud enough that Sam protectively covered his right ear - a habit he picked up after mostly losing function of his left one. 

“Was he now?” Sam gritted out. Of all the damn places in the state of Arizona, he happened to walk into the very same one as Deadeye fucking Wagner. 

“Shit, he couldn’t keep your name outta his damn mouth! It was all ‘pretty boy’ this and ‘pretty boy’ that! Sounded like my damn teenage daughter about the boy she’s courtin’, I’ll tell you what.” 

Sam couldn’t stop himself from spinning on his heel. He wasn’t sure what about the man just admitted to him was so flummoxing, but it felt as if his heart was trying to take flight like a startled bird. 

“I’m gonna go get that sorry sonofabitch. He’ll be so happy you’re here!” 

Before Sam could even register what the drunkard had said, the man had stumbled over to a table full of rowdy men. He stopped at the man with his back directly to Sam. And, really, Sam should’ve realized Deadeye was here earlier. Because as soon as he saw that head of chocolate curls, he knew. He knew exactly who was in front of him. 

Rising out of his chair and turning on his heel with a practiced grace was none other than Deadeye Wagner. The second he locked eyes with Kiszka, a charming smirk grew across his face. One that made Sam feel weak in the knees and forced him to lock his jaw so as not to say anything stupid. It made his chest flutter in anger and his face burn with it. 

“We gotta stop meetin’ like this, pretty boy,” Deadeye drawled. And suddenly, Sam didn’t feel all that cold anymore. 

Kiszka forced himself to breathe. He knew if he didn’t take a moment’s pause, he’d make a fool out of himself. So he focused on the way his lungs expanded to take in the scent of burning coal from the parlor stove and the tobacco smoke floating in the air. 

“Always a pleasure, Wagner.” Sam’s pleasantry was very forced, something he was certain the outlaw would catch. He just couldn’t find the energy to be more convincing. His luck had run out and he was weary from his long journey. 

“I thought we were past all this sourness-” Deadeye cut himself off. His lips had formed a word, but he clamped them shut to prevent them from speaking it. He was thrown off by his own actions, if his nervous titter of a laugh was any indication. 

Kiszka elected to ignore the… whatever that was… for the time being. 

“It’s been a long journey. I ain’t in the mood for your…” Sam vaguely gestured at Deadeye. He hoped the message came across. He wasn’t exactly sure there was a nice way of saying “the way we interact confuses me to no end and it exhausts me”. 

Wagner clicked his tongue in a way that suggested sympathy but felt condescending. “You poor thing,” he cooed, wrapping his arm around Sam’s shoulders. 

Sam blames his surprise at the touch for how long it took him to throw Deadeye’s arm off. Despite the roughness he used, Deadeye didn’t seem upset by the action. Instead, he just laughed. 

“Do not patronize me,” Sam hissed, his temper worsening just from being in proximity of his… shit, what was Deadeye to him? An enemy? But you don’t typically team up with an enemy. His rival? They’d have to be in the same line of work to be rivals. 

Well, whatever he was, Sam knew that Wagner confounded and confused him more than any other person he had ever known. Any time he even thought about the man - which, Sam had to begrudgingly admit, was very frequent as of late - he felt a confusing swirl of emotions deep in his gut. It was confusing to the poor bounty hunter and it only made him angry. 

“Sure thing, sugar,” Deadeye smoothly responded, slithering his arm back onto Sam’s shoulders. “What brings you ‘round these parts?” 

Sam forced himself to count to five. And then ten. He was trying to get under Sammy’s skin and he wasn’t going to allow the man to win. 

“What’s it to you?” Sam spat back. It wasn’t as calm as he had hoped, but it wasn’t as venomous as it could be. 

“Just tryin’ to see how long you’re fixin’ to stay, is all. No need to act like a rattlesnake, pretty boy.” It was right in his ear, the words Deadeye spoke. Kiszka could feel the warmth of his breath caressing the skin of his ear and cheek as he leaned towards the bounty hunter to talk. 

Sam’s fingernails dug into his palms to stave off the shiver that wanted to wrack his body. 

“Seems I gotta find another place to sleep. Some bastard came along and rented out the rest of the available rooms here,” Sam grumbled, his sour mood still ever present. It only worsened when he talked about the major inconvenience. 

“That was me.” 

“What?” Sam barked. 

“The bastard who rented out the rooms? That was me.” 

Sam had no choice but to laugh at the absurdity. “Of course it was!” 

Deadeye watched with rapt fascination as Sam felt like he was coming apart at the seams. He was so damn tired. He just wanted to sleep. He wanted it so bad he felt as though he could cry as manic laughter flooded out of his mouth. 

“That’s just-” Sam interrupted himself with another round of involuntary giggles, “That’s just fantastic, ain’t it?” 

“You’re welcome to stay with me.” It was casual. Like a shrug of his shoulders. Like talking about the weather. 

“Pardon?” But it didn’t feel casual. In fact, Sam swore he could feel the earth shift under his feet at the offer. 

“It’s just… well, you ain’t really got much of a choice. And the bed should be big ‘nough to fit the both of us. ‘Course, you could sleep on the floor - or I could…” Wagner rambled. A trait Sam had never really seen Deadeye employ. He could also feel the man’s fingers fidget on his shoulder; watched as he failed to meet Sam’s eyes.

To say that Sam was baffled was one thing. Yet, underneath all of his shock, he was touched. 

“That’s real sweet of you,” Sam finally offered. While it had been amusing to watch the outlaw flounder for a spell, it had started to feel like watching a mortally wounded animal. At some point, you gotta put the poor beast out of its misery. 

Wagner sighed in relief. Sam felt the way the tendons and muscles in his arm melted into a relaxed state. 

“You don’t know how sweet I can be, pretty boy.” 

“I’m sure,” Sam patronized, even going so far as to pat Deadeye’s arm around the bounty hunter’s shoulders. 

And with that simple act of kindness, Sam felt his agitation and mania melt away. 

“Let me take you up there,” the outlaw offered, his arm tightening around Sam so that his side was pressed flush with Wagner’s. Sam did not protest or make any movement to wiggle out of the touch. He knew many people were watching the pair of them. He was too tired to care. 

The room itself was very cozy, but very on par with all the other inns and hotels Sam had spent his nights in. A potbelly stove with a pile of coal adjacent to it was stationary in the corner keeping the cold at bay. There was a vanity across from the bed equipped with a wash basin and white porcelain pitcher with sapphire blue flowers painted on it. The walls, floors, and furniture were all made from dark wood, making the room feel smaller than it probably was. Kerosene lamps illuminated the room a little, but it was still dark due to the lack of sunlight pouring through the window. A trunk sat at the foot of the bed. Sam didn’t need to look to know Deadeye’s limited possessions were stored there. He could already imagine what they were: his various guns and ammo as well as his minimal clothes. Sam had the same items to his name. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” Deadeye prompted, removing his arm from its perch around Sam’s shoulders. He stayed stationary in the doorway as Sam wandered further inside. 

It wasn’t like he was attempting to keep his attention on Wagner, but he found himself acutely aware of the way he watched Sam explore the room. His hands were fidgeting with something - a bullet from his gun belt, Sam realized - and his shoulders were hunched in. It was a strange stance on the outlaw. Sam had really only ever seen him cocky and exuding confidence. It was… nice. Made Deadeye seem a bit more human to Sam. 

“Oh,” Sam finally spoke. It was an accidental exclamation more than anything. 

“What?” Wagner immediately inquired. Sam didn’t miss the way he jumped up into action, pushing off where he leaned against the doorframe and standing tall. 

“Oh, it’s just…” Kiszka gestured at the bed before them. It was a full-size mattress, just barely big enough to fit someone as large as Deadeye. Sam wasn’t large, per se, but the two of them would be hard up for any personal space in that thing. Not that Sam wasn’t used to having to share a bed with someone. It was commonplace in most of the hotels and taverns Sam stayed in. But, in those instances, the beds were large enough that some personal space would be allowed. 

Deadeye seemed to pick up what Sam was implying. “I’ll sleep on the floor.” 

“It’s your room-” 

“I got to sleep in it last night. Seems only fair that you get it for the night,” Wagner insisted, waving his hand in a dismissive manner, “In fact, lemme go down and ask the owner for some extra accommodations.” 

And before Sam could even protest, the other man was out the door and closing it behind him. The only sound was that of the whistling wind outside the window and the hissing of the lamp at his right. The bounty hunter let out a heavy sigh, scrubbing a hand down his face. He was too bone-tired to even try to think about why Wagner’s gesture made his chest feel warm. Instead, he busied himself with stirpping off all of the layers he was wrapped in. They did their job against keeping the cold mostly away from him. Now that he was in the warmth of a heated room, they were beginning to make him sweat. 

Just as he’d gotten to taking off the last of his shirts, that was when Deadeye walked into the room. 

“Shit!!” Wagner exclaimed, covering his eyes at the same time that Sam scrambled to cover his bare chest with his discarded shirt. 

“The hell, man??” 

“Sorry! Sorry. I-I should’ve knocked…” Deadeye rushed out, his hand still covering his eyes. He stayed there like that. 

In fact, they both stayed there like that for a moment. 

“I’ll… I’ll wait outside-” 

“Oh, for god’s sake. Just get in here and shut the goddamn door!” Sam shook his head. 

The outlaw did as he was told. He kept his eyes covered, much to Sam’s amusement. He watched Wagner fumble his way around the room with his hand still clamped over his eyes. Sam even took note of the pink hue on the outlaw’s cheeks; what little of them he could see. 

“You act like you ain’t never seen a man shirtless before,” Kiszka taunted, the corner of his mouth pulling upwards as he found delight in Deadeye’s theatrics. 

With that little jab, Wagner slowly removed his hand off his eyes. It was still pretty dim in the room, but Sam didn’t miss the way his dark eyes snuck a glance at his shirtless form before quickly looking at the extra bedding in his arms. 

“I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable…” 

That warm feeling in his chest flowered under his ribs again. The same one Sam felt when Deadeye had offered him the room. 

“You’re awful considerate. For a low-life degenerate, that is,” Kiszka tacked on at the end along with an anxious laugh. He didn’t wanna seem too genuine. The prospect of that - a moment of genuine connection - made fear thrum in his veins. 

“That’s me…” Deadeye agreed. But his tone didn’t match the playful - yet slightly nervous - one from Sam. If he had to put a name to it, Sam would’ve thought Deadeye was glum. 

“I grew up with brothers. Nothin’ you need to worry about. I’m far from squeamish when it comes to bein’ scrutinized by the male gaze.” Sam, for some reason, felt like he should salvage the situation. In an act of nervousness, he began spinning his pearl-handled revolver around his finger again. 

All Wagner did in response was hum. He kept his eyes trained on the bedding he was laying down on the floor. The fluffing of his bedroll was the only thing filling the void of voices. 

With a sigh, Sam resigned himself to the situation. He continued stripping down to his long johns, placing his holster on top of the bedside table. You never knew when you were gonna need it within reach. He rinsed his face and hands in the wash basin once he was done undressing. And with that all said and done, Sam slipped under the covers and sequestered himself to his exhaustion. 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep for. What he did know, however, was that he woke up to the sound of chattering teeth. Even in the silent room, Sam was surprised he was woken up by that; it was a very faint sound. Guess that came with the territory of having such a dangerous job. 

“Wagner?” Sam blearily called out, rubbing at his bad ear. When it was that quiet, the high-pitched ringing in it became nearly unbearable. 

The clattering stopped. 

“Sorry, Sam.” It made the bounty hunter think of a scolded hound. Sam blamed that - his love for animals and dogs - for the ache in his chest at the outlaw’s tone. He also used it as an excuse for his next action. 

With a small grunt, Sam flipped over onto his side so that he was facing Wagner’s direction. The covers were loud, relatively, as he peeled them back in an inviting gesture. The room was nearly pitch black if it hadn’t been for the sliver of moonlight peaking between the curtains. Despite that, Sam could perfectly see the confused knit in the outlaw’s eyes. 

A beat passed. Neither man moved. Well, at least from their respective spots. Deadeye had sat up to see what Sam had done. But he stayed still; like a deer spotting a predator. 

“You wantin’ a written invite?” Sam groused, his voice gravely from sleep. 

“Are you sure-”

“Just get in, Deadeye.” Even to his own ears, Kiszka sounded bitchy. Guess his brothers were right. He was a force to be reckoned with when he was tired. 

With a palpable hesitation, the outlaw abandoned his bedroll and cautiously slipped into the spot next to Sam. The mattress dipped under his weight, the wood frame only groaning slightly at the added heft. Sam was right. There was no room for any space between them. But he wasn’t going to let the man freeze to death for his own comfort. It would just have to be a little awkward for the next few hours. 

Once Deadeye was settled - meaning he stopped shifting around enough, Sammy could feel how tense the poor bastard was - Sam closed his eyes again. With the added heat from Wagner’s own body, it was incredibly cozy. It was so comfortable, in fact, Sam had trouble keeping his eyes open. And not one to fight sleep when it came on this easily, Sam submitted to it. 

Until he was snapped awake. 

“Daniel.” 

“What?” Sam quickly whispered, matching the volume the outlaw had used. 

“My real name. It’s Daniel.” 

In the limited light, Sam could see the anxiousness swimming within Wagner’s eyes. Even in his altered state - so dead tired he was sure he was hallucinating - Sam understood the gravity of the offered information. He was being incredibly vulnerable with Sam. Hell, it was hard not to notice the nervous way his eyes glanced all around Sam’s face to gauge his reaction when their faces were that damn close. 

“Daniel…” Sam tested the name on his tongue. He found that he liked it an awful lot more than Deadeye. When Sam thought of Deadeye, it only conjured up images of annoyed sheriffs and infuriated ranch owners. But Daniel… Well, Daniel was the guy with a sweet smile on his lips and an offer of help on his tongue when Sam needed it. 

“Y-Yeah,” the other man stuttered, a shiver shaking his body. Guess he was still cold from his time on the floor. 

“...I like it. Handsome name for a handsome fella,” Sam muttered, his tone incredibly soft as to not disrupt the quiet in the room. Besides, with only a few inches between the two, there was no need for anything louder. 

Like a flower blooming out of the winter snow, Dead- Daniel’s anxiety melted into a giddy smile. “Oh, I’m handsome, am I?” 

Kiszka felt a giddy smile of his own spread on his lips. He gently smacked Daniel’s arm with the back of his hand. And as Wagner feigned a grunt of pain, the pair broke out into a fit of playful giggles. 

“Keep pushin’ your luck and I’ll make ya sleep on the floor again,” Sam jested, that smile fixed upon his lips as he and Daniel continued to stare at one another. 

“Too late,” Daniel sighed, finally releasing the tension in his body as he melted into the mattress, “cat’s outta the bag.” 

“I’ll deny it ‘til the day I die.” Sam, god help him, found that he really liked the way Daniel’s dark eyes glittered in the moonlight. 

“Hmmm… I’ll getcha to bend one day. Just you watch.” 

“Is that a challenge, Daniel?” 

There it was again. That chill shook Daniel’s body again as his eyes fluttered closed. 

“Everything is a challenge with you, Samuel.” 

+++

Sam hadn’t told Josh about that night he spent with Daniel. In fact, he didn’t tell anyone. He wasn’t entirely sure why. It just… it felt too personal. 

Every day that had passed between that night and the next time he saw Daniel, he felt an ache in his chest. He wasn’t quite sure what to name it, but each time he thought about that night - or, rather, Daniel in general - he felt a dull pain lurch in his chest. The only thing he could compare it to is the similar feeling he gets when he thinks about Jake… but not quite. There was more pain when he thought about his brother. 

But, as usual, the next time the bounty hunter and the outlaw met, it caught Sam completely by surprise. In fact, Sam was very surprised that Daniel was even able to find him. 

As it so happened, Sam himself was in the very last place he’d ever think to find himself: in jail. It was very strange being the one on the other side of the bars. He was very hazy on the reasoning behind why he was locked up. Something about an assault on some poor woman. He didn’t know. He was drunk when he was arrested. 

Sam scoffed to himself. The one night he let loose a little and look where it got him. He scrubbed his hands down his face as he sat down on the very threadbare cot. He had just wanted to have a few drinks in honor of his dead brother’s birthday. 

“So, you care to explain why, exactly, I’m bein’ made to rot in here?” Sam tried again. It had been about three days since he was thrown in the cell and he still hadn’t been given a straight answer. 

“Jesus, Kiszka, I already told you! You were seen harassin’ the mayor’s daughter by a very reliable source!” The deputy yelled, his frustration evident in the way he bared his teeth at Sam. 

“This is bullshit. I’d never put my hands on a lady!” The bounty hunter was pacing the very limited space in his cell. He felt like he was losing his mind being trapped like that. 

“I’m sure that defense will hold up in court,” the deputy snarked. And with that, he went back to reading his newspaper. 

With a growl of frustration, Sam slammed his palm against the bars. He instantly regretted it as pain shot through his hand and up his arm. With a curse under his breath, Sammy cradled his injured hand against his chest and sat back down on the uncomfortable cot. 

That was where he stayed for the next few hours. He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling. Thankfully, he was allowed to keep his pocket watch on him. That’s how he knew four hours had passed since he last spoke and when someone entered the building. 

“Evenin’ partner,” the smooth voice drawled, heavy boot-steps resounding off the wood floor. 

I know that voice

Sam’s eyes snapped open as he shot up-right off his cot. His eyes were able to confirm exactly what his gut instinct had told him. Standing in the jailhouse with his hat in his hand, the evening sun bathing him in golden light, was none other than Daniel “Deadeye” Wagner himself. Kiszka didn’t even care about the implications as a huge wave of relief crashed into him. 

Daniel, seemingly aware that he had Sam’s full attention, sent him a sly wink along with the mouthed words of “play along”. Sam hadn’t even needed the hint. He understood from the second he heard Daniel’s voice. 

“State your business, friend,” the deputy demanded, barely even bothering to look up from his newspaper. 

“My name is Deputy Bobby McGee and I represent the sheriff up in Clearwater. I’m searchin’ for a man by the name of Kiszka… heard tell you might know where I can find him?” The lie was so smooth that Sam himself almost believed it. 

“Are ya, now?” The Deputy finally set down his newspaper, taking his feet off the desk and planting them on the ground. 

“Took ya long enough, Bobby!” Sam cried, getting to his feet off the cot. 

Sam saw the tiny smile on Wagner’s lips before he rolled his eyes. “Apologies, your highness. Couldn’t drop everythin’, y’know.” He grumbled. 

“And what, exactly, do you need him for?” The deputy interrupted. His beady eyes never strayed from Daniel’s face. 

“Well, he was hired by Sheriff DuPointe to help catch a very dangerous outlaw by the name of Deadeye Wagner. Perhaps you’ve heard of him. The man is very desperate, you see. He’s even willin’ to pay the bounty owed,” Wagner continued, walking further into the jail and closer to the desk the deputy sat behind. 

Even though the deputy - who’s name Sam cannot remember - held the authority bestowed by the state, it was clear who held the real power between him and Daniel. It was quite amusing watching the annoying little prick have to crane his neck as Daniel stood in front of him. Even if the other man had been standing, the outlaw would’ve towered over him. 

“Unfortunately, there’s no bail to be posted. The mayor is mighty furious and he’s makin’ damn sure the bastard swings for what he did to Miss Lavender.” The smug lift to the corner of his mouth made Sam’s annoyance spike. The deputy was talking about his life being in the hands of some felonious witness, and here the bastard was, smiling. 

Wagner seemed to catch onto the arrogant air the little rat had taken on. Well, that is if the way his knuckles bleached as he clenched his fists was any authority, that is. And the way the muscle in his jaw flexed, too. But, in the blink of an eye, that irritation was gone. 

“Ain’t that a shame. I’m gonna have a few words with the man,” Daniel stated, no room to be told no. He didn’t even wait for the deputy to answer, simply pushed on past him and towards Sam’s cage. 

Sam was thrilled to see Daniel in person after so many weeks. Their last little interaction had taken place in the snow-capped mountains in the heart of winter. Now, almost to the Mexico border, Spring was in the air. 

“How you gettin’ on?” Wagner inquired, his tone even but his eyes very tuned into Sam. He seemed to search Sam for any and all signs of distress, knowing they had to act covertly. 

“Been better… clearly… Just sittin’ here rottin’ all day,” Sam grumbled. What he didn’t add was how much better this day was now that he had shown up. Despite them having spent longer stretches of time apart, those few weeks seemed to stretch on. 

Wagner’s eyebrows knitted in sympathy. His hand came up to lean against the bars, hesitating at where Sam’s hand was coiled around the iron. “You know I gotta ask.” 

Sam sighed deeply, resting his head against the bars as he braced. 

“Did you do it?” The outlaw’s eyes were intense. Dark as a maw of a cavern. They made Sam shiver. 

“I swear on my brother’s grave. I did not touch that woman.” Despite wanting to divert his gaze, Sam held it steady. He needed Daniel to know he was telling the truth. He needed him to know. 

After holding the stare for a little longer, the outlaw nodded his head. One curt jut of his chin. Wagner slid his arm from its leaning position, his hand grazing the back of Kiszka’s knuckles. It was brief and far from the only touch they shared. It had felt… heightened. More intense than those other times. 

It wasn’t until Daniel took a step back and turned away that Sam even realized how close they had leaned in towards one another. 

“Y’know Kiszka, you and the good deputy look pretty similar…” Wagner started. 

A bolt of indignation spiked through Sammy before it sizzled hotly in his veins. “I beg your pardon?” 

“From far away, that is,” Daniel was quick to correct, “Y’all both got the same lean physique, the same long head shape… hell, even the same hair color.” 

Sam watched the lawman’s spine stiffen at Daniel’s claim. That was all it took for the bounty hunter to catch on. He couldn’t help the knowing smile as it tugged on his lips. 

“Now that you mention it,” Sam added on, tilting his head as he took in the deputy’s features, “we could be related… distantly, that is.” 

“You choose your next words carefully, now,” the lawman sharply ordered. He stood to his full height but stayed by the desk. It did not escape Sam’s notice that he rested his hand on the handle of his revolver. 

Daniel must have noticed as well. In a mirror of their second meeting, the outlaw raised his hands up with his palms showing. And just like when it was Sam pointing the gun at him, Wagner was only doing so as a formality rather than for self-preservation. 

His back was turned to Sam now. Kiszka’s view was completely obscured as the outlaw stood right in front of him. That was how he was able to hear rather than see the patronizing, lopsided grin on Daniel’s face. 

“Now, ain’t no reason to act that way, friend. Just makin’ a simple observation, is all,” Daniel smoothly drawled, all casual fluidity and honeyed tones. You would not assume the man was in fear of being shot based on his body language alone. 

“I don’t like what y’all are implyin’.” Sam watched carefully as the deputy’s hand gripped his pistol harder. He involuntarily swallowed as his adrenaline spiked. If he had his own pistol on him, there would be no contest. As it was, his trusty pair of revolvers were sitting on the desk right next to the deputy. 

“And what would that be?” Wagner obstructed Sam’s view once again after checking over his shoulder. Sam grit his teeth, irritated about how this was turning out. He was useless trapped in that cage.

The deputy paused. If Sam could see, he would’ve watched the lawman’s eyes nervously dart back and forth between Daniel’s eyes and the spot behind him where Sam was standing. “That I assaulted the mayor’s daughter.” 

Kiszka had to bite his tongue. Wagner was good. Really good. With just some simple word play, he was able to get this deputy to own up to his crime. 

“Now why would an innocent man be worried about such an accusation?” Wagner’s hands slowly dropped down. He still showed the deputy his open palms, but they were closer to his stomach rather than at shoulder-height. 

A tense atmosphere suffocated the one room sheriff’s office. The oppressive, southern spring sun that beat down on the building made the air unbearably hot. Sam could feel the sweat prickling on his hands and forehead. No one moved. 

“No one’ll believe you,” the deputy nervously spat, shifting his weight from foot to foot, “it’s my word ‘gainst yours.”

“You sure ‘bout that, partner?” the outlaw drawled, his hands now hanging down by the handles of his pistols. 

“He’s gonna swing and you’re gonna watch him die,” the lawman’s voice grew more manic with each word, “and there’s nothin’ you’ll be able to do.” 

In the blink of an eye, Deadeye had drawn his pistols. 

“Daniel, no!” Sam cried, his hand reaching through the bars to grab the unstable outlaw. It must have worked. Daniel didn’t gun the deputy down. “He ain’t worth it.” 

“Sam,” Wagner breathed, his eyes never leaving his adversary, “you know I can’t let this happen to you.” 

“There’s gotta be another way,” Sam desperately pleaded, reaching out his other hand to gently lower Daniel’s revolver in his left hand, “I can’t let you kill him.” 

Wagner hesitated. His eyes swept from the deputy to where Sam’s hand rested against his left hand. With a curse under his breath, the outlaw holstered his guns. “You’re too good. He don’t deserve your mercy.” 

Sam didn’t argue. He simply let out a breath of gratitude. 

“Yeah, Daniel. I ain’t worth it,” the deputy taunted. There was a smug smile on his yellowed teeth. Sam wanted to punch them in himself. 

Wagner’s back straightened as his muscles tensed. In only a few short steps, Daniel had removed himself from Kiszka’s arms and was inches away from the foolish lawman. It was quite amusing seeing the pathetic man crumple under the sheer tenacity of Daniel’s fiery intimidation. And that was when he growled something under his breath. It was so low that Sam could only hear the tone and none of the words. 

It must’ve been one hell of a threat. Cause when the outlaw was finished, the deputy had turned as pale as a sheet. With wide, frightened eyes, the coward glanced between Daniel and Sam. It was no secret what Wagner thought about that, his anger shifting towards dark amusement. 

With an eager smile sent Sam’s way after he tipped his hat to him, Daniel made for the exit. “Y’all have a good night, now.” 

+++

Sam was awoken that night by the sound of someone whistling. With a confused grumble, Sam checked his pocket watch. 1:15 AM. 

“Sam!” came a hissed whisper. 

“What?” Sam whispered back. He quickly checked that the night guard was still sleeping. 

“Come to the window.” 

Sam, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, got to his knees on the cot to peer out of the small window of his cell. Standing in the pale moonlight with his face covered was none other than Daniel. He pulled his bandana down from his face just for a second to flash Sam a sweet smile. 

“Oh, what are you doin’?” Sam quietly whined. He knew this wasn’t going to end well. 

“Gettin’ you free, of course!” There was genuine excitement coming from his voice. 

“Are you crazy?!” 

“Maybe just a little,” Wagner conceded. “Look, you ain’t makin’ it outta this alive. That deputy is gonna testify and the mayor will push the judge towards a hangin’. Way I see it, this is your only chance at livin’ another day.” 

Despite Sam’s lifelong service to lady justice, he knew Daniel was right. There had been one too many instances where innocent people were made to pay for the crimes of others. He was no stranger to this. He had just hoped it wouldn’t come to this. 

“I don’t have my guns,” Sam relented with a sigh. 

The bounty hunter could see the smile in Wagner’s eyes as he held up Sam’s gun belt in his hand. 

“How’d you-” 

“I ain’t the best in the business for no reason, sweetheart.” 

Kiszka didn’t even try to suppress the shiver that elicited as it wracked his body. Nor did he try to hide the thrilled smile that pulled at his lips. 

“Right. How we gonna do this?” This was it. With one simple sentence, Sam had resigned himself over to being an outlaw. If the legal system was gonna screw him over to protect a crooked man, he might as well screw it over first with the help of an (almost) honest man. 

Daniel had told him to take cover as he hooked the window bars to a steam donkey. With a few metallic groans and a big puff of smoke, the cell wall came down with a thunderous crash. Wasting no time, Sam climbed through the opening and strapped on his gun belt after taking it from Wagner. 

“We don’t got much time. We gotta make a run for our horses,” Daniel plainly explained, his head on a swivel on the lookout for any possible threats. 

“Wait!” Sam - acting on impulse alone - grabbed the outlaw’s face, pulled down his bandana, and kissed Daniel on the lips. It only lasted for a second or two, but it made Sam’s entire being feel alive. It was as if he was a bolt of lightning: energized and charged with static and alive. 

A beat went by where Sam watched his counterpart carefully. He’d known he’d just taken a huge risk. However, he had no time to even get nervous before a huge smile broke out on Wagner’s lips. His eyes glistened in the darkness, a familiar emotion glittering in them that Sam had seen times before around him. 

“Oh, hell yeah!” Daniel had grabbed Sam by the shirt, pulling him in for another kiss. This was far more heated than the last. 

“Kiszka!!” A disembodied voice bellowed. It was what pulled them back to reality. 

“Right,” Daniel stated, breathless, “we’ll pick that up later…” He trailed off as his gaze landed back onto his partner’s lips. 

“Horses,” Sam blurted. It was more of an attempt to stop himself from being distracted again more than it was for Wagner. 

“Right!” 

The outlaw took the former bounty hunter’s hand, drawing his pistol with his left. Sam did the same, twirling his family’s revolver on his right index finger before holding it steady. 

With an enthusiastic smile and a nod of his head, Daniel lept into action. Thankfully, the horses weren’t stashed too far away from the jail. Sam only had to fire a few shots, all covering fire. As far as he knew, no one died. 

Finally mounted up, the two outlaws tore off into the desert. Once they were well out of dodge, Sam whooped and hollered. With the breeze in his hair and the stars guiding his way, he felt alive. 

Daniel laughed to his right, letting out a cry of excitement of his own. Sam felt his heart swell. 

“Y’know, you can’t go back,” Daniel stated after the two had set up camp well away from the city. 

“Ain’t that what you’ve been wantin’ since the start? For me to join your outlaw crew?” Sam’s eyes flicked from the fire to the man lounging next to it. 

“Well, of course. But… is this what you wanted?” Daniel met Sam’s eyes. They were cautious as he asked. Vulnerable. 

Sam thought for a second before he answered. He never looked away from Daniel. Daniel never looked away from him. 

“Yeah,” Sam finally admitted. He saw the relief flood Wagner’s hazel eyes. Sam’s chest ached once more. “Yeah, it is.” 

+++

@i-choose-the-road @ofthecaravel @doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @ageoferin @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpower @morganic-goods  @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @strugglingtodoshit @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore @razorbladekiszka @unfortunatelykristin @welightthefire @gretavanfleas @sammiejane22 @satanplayshisfluteforhim @starsasone  @writingcold @tearsofbri @teddiie @GardensGateDaisy @sparrowofthedawnsworld @angelbabyyy99 @whollyfreeamongststars @gretaswhore28 @l0rdoffli3s @kay-jordan @lightmyloverry @kenzie18 @gotavansleep @roosterbbradley @freckled-wonder @flower-power-anthem @Gabyvanfleet @Sarakay-gvf @Mamalikes-gvf @josh-iamyour-mama @st4rdust-ch0rds @fallonfatality @earthlysorrows @jessicafg03 @rossy1080 @hippievanfleet @spark-my-nature @hayley1623 @schleeble @gretavanflipflop @mehboihourz @jakeydoesit @BusyBeingTrash 

[ourtearsofrain]

Ride a Cowboy- Save a Horse pt. 2 (D.R.W/S.F.K)

Summary: Danny and Sam tell Jake and Josh they’re dating. Their reactions? That they need to see the line dancing bar where they finally confessed to each other. Lucky for them, there’s a partners night coming up where the newbies dance with local drag queens. What neither expected was to leave the bar with a man on each of their arms.

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka, Josh Kiszka x male OC, Jake Kiszka x male OC

Genre: fluff (aftercare and everyone being cute and in love), angst and a little bit of hurt/comfort, smut (minors DNI)

Word Count: 15.5 k

Warnings: they’re all gay and have stupid little gay crushes on oc’s but are all too shy to act on their crushes for a fat minute, Dallas is back, smut, anal sex (fingering and penetration), Sam’s not a bottom this time????

A/N: I would like to thank my friends that read pt. 1 and kept (lovingly) pushing me to write a pt. 2, couldn’t have done it without your input. Also, if you’re new here, this is the second part to a series, so I recommend reading Save a Horse first if you haven’t already as topics, people, and events from that fic are mentioned here and slightly crucial to parts of the plot. Thank you for reading!

————————————————————————

“What if they have a problem with it? With us? What if telling them ruins our relationships with them?” Sam says anxiously, pacing across his kitchen as Danny watches him, perched at the edge of his bar stool.

“Love, Josh is queer, it would be extremely hypocritical if he had an issue with it. And you know how Jake reacted when Josh came out, he’ll be fine too.” Danny calmly explains, “They’re your brothers, I’m certain you’ll get nothing but support from them.”

Sam ceases his movements, fully turning towards Danny before he counters, “Yeah I know, that’s not the problem. The problem is that I know they see you as a brother, they have for as long as you’ve known them. I just don’t want them to, I don’t know, feel weird about us being together because of that. I don’t want it to affect how we are, as a group.” He lets out a defeated sigh and runs a hand roughly through his hair, already laying haphazardly and tangled from the anxieties plaguing his mind.

“You three are my best friends, and if I ruin that, I-“ he pauses, tears brimming in his eyes, “-I don’t know how I would be able to live with myself.”

Danny gets off his chair, moving around the counter and quickly closing the space between them. He cups Sams face in his hands tenderly, looking down at the other boy.

“Sammy baby, please. It’s gonna be ok. I promise. And even if it does change anything between all of us, which it won’t, it wouldn’t be your fault love.” He wipes a stray tear away with his thumb and presses a light kiss to Sam’s forehead. “Everything is going to be alright, ok?”

“Yeah… ok. Everything’s gonna be alright.” Danny smiles and Sam manages to offer a weak one back, thoughts still running wild in his mind.

“That’s my boy. We got this.” He brings his hands down to Sams biceps, offering a gentle squeeze. “You got this.”

Sam smiles fully at this, appreciative of his boyfriends’ calm words of reassurance. He pulls him into a tight hug, grateful for the claw clip keeping his mane of hair up and out of the way, allowing him to nestle his face against the soft, warm skin of his neck.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He mumbles.

Danny laughs lightly, knowing Sam had told him he loved him every day since after the night they got together. He runs his hands up and down Sams back in soothing motions. “Yeah, couple times.”

Sam pulls away to look up at the other boy, still close enough to stay in his warm embrace. “Well I think I’ll say it a few more times anyway. I love you, Danny. Thanks for keeping me sane.”

“Of course, Sammy.” He briefly kisses the other boy, before pulling away to check the notifications he just realized were blowing up his phone where it sat forgotten on the counter.

“Hey when did you say they were getting here again? Oh- never mind.” He begins to clear the texts from both Jake and Josh as he continues, “They texted me. So, so many times. Most of them are ‘Hey’ or ‘You dumbasses really need to check your phones’. Looks like they tried calling you,” he raises his eyebrows as he scrolls through the seemingly endless string of messages, “A lot apparently. They’re on their way. At least they were about five minutes ago, so they should be here soon.”

“Shit, my phone is in my room, I completely forgot about it. I told them to be here at 4:30 and, knowing they’re always late, I said to get here at 4:30 or I’d leave them locked outside.”

Danny checks the time, “Well, it’s now five soooo…”

“Guess they’re staying outside then.”

“As funny as that would be, we do really need to talk to them, love.”

Sam fakes an annoyed sigh, rolling his eyes as he shuffles over to Danny, stopping beside him and leaning his forehead against his shoulder. “God it’s so annoying when you’re right.”

As if summoned, the sound of two fists banging violently against the front door startles them.

Josh’s voice can be heard clearly through the door, loud enough to piss off the neighbors. “HEY FUCKERS YOU BETTER LET US IN.”

Jake’s shout comes next, “I KNOW WE’RE LATE BUT I SWEAR TO GOD SAM IF YOU DON’T OPEN THIS DOOR, I’M GONNA TELL MOM ABOUT THE TIME YOU GOT ARRESTED WHEN YOU WERE 18 FOR GETTING PULLED OVER AND HAVING A HALF EMPTY BOTTLE OF FUCKING FIREBALL ON YOUR PASSENGER SEAT!”

“Jesus fucking christ, ok ok. I’M COMING, NOW SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Sam yells as he makes his way to the door, unlocking it when he gets there.

The twins saunter in as Sam holds the door open for them, both already starting to speak at the same time.

“That’s what Daniel’s mother said to me last night, what a lovely woman she is-” Jake starts in a gravelly British accent.

“Why thank you Samuel, wow even holding the door open for us like a true gentleman.” Josh jokes, fluttering his eyelashes at Sam and placing a hand over his heart.

“Both of you, shut the fuck up. You guys are lucky I even let you in, Danny convinced me to.”

“Awwww thanks Danny, I knew you loved us more than Sam does.” Josh says to Danny, still standing by the counter in Sams kitchen.

The twins make their way past him and into Sams living room, unceremoniously throwing themselves down onto the couches and making themselves comfortable as Sam and Danny stand together in mildly tense silence. While the twins are distracted, Danny grabs Sams hand and gives it a light squeeze, giving him a small smile of encouragement before the pair make their way towards the others.

“Hey when is food getting here? What did you order? And what movie are we watching?” Jake says the second he spots Sam and Danny.

Sam wipes his palms on his pants, taking a seat on the unoccupied couch next to the one the twins were taking up all the space on. Danny sits next to him, close enough for suspicion to begin to arise in the twins.

“Uh, we actually wanted to talk. Before getting food or deciding on a movie. I mean we’re still doing that but that was kind of an excuse to get you here.” Sam rambles, causing Jake and Josh to sit up straight in their seats and give him their full attention.

“Talk about what? Is everything ok, Sam?” Josh asks, concern painted across his face at his younger brother’s demeanor.

Sam takes in a shaky breath, looking at Danny before he continues in a rush, “Well, ok, so, uh, there’s really only one way to say this but, Danny and I are dating. We’ve, I’ve waited so long to tell you guys because I was worried it would negatively affect the group dynamic, I didn’t want it to get weird between all of us because of it and I know you guys see him as a brother so I didn’t know if that would be weird for you guys that we were dating. But anyways, yeah that’s kind of all I wanted to say so, uh… now you know.”

A moment of silence passes over the group before Josh breaks it. “Fucking finally, I’ve been waiting for you guys to get together since you guys were Juniors in High School. Jake, you owe me $20, cough it up I know you have the money on you.”

Sam snaps to full attention, looking between the pair as Jake begins to pull his wallet out defeatedly. “You fucking bet on us??” Sam half-yells.

Jake hands Josh a $20 bill, which he snatches from his hand with a grin. “Thank you.” He gestures to Sam and Danny. “And thanks to you too, I was rooting for you. And yeah, we made a bet years ago. Jake thought you guys would never confess. Actually, he thought there was nothing between you two.”

“Shut up, Josh.” Jake retorts, rolling his eyes.

“Anyways, bet aside, we’re happy for you guys. Thank you for telling us. And don’t worry, I promise nothing will change between all of us. Like I said, I’ve been waiting for this for years. We love you guys.”

“We’re proud of you for telling us, Sam. I’m sorry if any worries about how we might react prevented you from telling us sooner.” Jake pauses, “Not to ruin this beautiful tender moment, but I have to ask, how long have you guys been together?”

Danny looks at Sam, giving him a questioning look before answering. “Uh about three months I think? That sounds about right?”

The twins’ eyebrows shoot up. “Three fucking months?? How the hell did you guys act so normal around us? I don’t know about Jake, but I had no new suspicions.”

“Yeah I didn’t think anything was different. You guys did a great job at hiding it. I mean, not that you guys should have felt the need, but.” Jake says.

“Remember that night I went out with Danny and refused to tell you guys where I was going?” Sam asks.

Both boys nod in unison, waiting for him to continue.

“Well, don’t laugh, but I went to a line dancing bar with Danny. And it turned out to be a gay bar. Whole lot of shit happened with this one douchbag, which we don’t need to get in to, and that all led to Danny and I finally confessing.” Sam finishes.

Theres a pause before both boys break out into laughter, Josh hiding it better than Jake. He clears his throat, attempting to speak through his broken chuckles, “Ok, you guys have to take us there some time. I need to see this place.”

“I mean, we can arrange that.” Danny starts. “My friend who told me about the place, I think you guys have met him before? His name is Austin. Anyways, he told me there’s a partner dance night coming up where the local Drag Queens offer to partner with the newer people to teach them how to line dance. The three of us were already planning on going, you guys are invited if you want to go with us.”

Josh snaps to attention, a blush spreading across his cheeks. “Wait, Austin? He’s going?”

“Uh yeah, why?” Danny asks, brows furrowed.

“Oh, just because Josh has a massive fucking crush on him.” Jake teases.

“I DON’T, JAKE.”

“Oh yeah, right. Not like you’ve been debating on asking Danny for his number since the day you met him.”

“Jake I swear to god-“

Sam cuts him off, “Awwww that’s so cute. Josh, I bet you could ask him to show you the moves, instead of partnering up with a Drag Queen.”

Josh’s face turns an even darker shade of pink. “Shut up, all of you.”

Danny comes to his aid, “C’mon guys leave him alone. So, are you guys coming or not?”

“I’m down if Josh is. I plan on getting drunk though, so one of you is going to be the designated driver.”

All eyes turn to Josh, hands on his cheeks to hide his vivid blush. “Yeah, ok whatever, I’m down. As long as no one gives me shit about Austin.”

“Great! I’ll let him know we have two more people coming!” Danny says with a smile.

Josh gets up, talking as he makes his way across the living room. “Well since you guys haven’t ordered food, I’m going to go raid Sam’s pantry.” He stops behind the couch Sam and Danny are seated on and bends down to give Danny a hug from behind. “Hey, I’m proud of you guys. Again, I love you two.” He straightens and reaches over to ruffle Sam’s hair. “Maybe Danny a little more than you, Sam, but.”

“Hey! Knock it off! And why is Danny the favorite now?” Sam snaps.

Josh calls over his shoulder, already walking away in the direction of the kitchen, “Because he’s the only one that didn’t give me shit about Austin.”

Jake chuckles, “It’s just too easy to fluster him about that, he’s so in loooooove.” he finishes in a sing-songy voice.

“I FUCKING HEARD THAT, JAKE!”

————————————————————————

Five days later, Danny and Sam find themselves pulling into the driveway of the twins’ house, ready to return to Bradley’s Honky Tonk once more. Danny fiddles with the top buttons of his dark brown suede shirt, undoing a couple before his hands begin to fidget with the bottom of the shirt tucked into his black jeans. Deciding it would look better untucked, he pulls the fabric out and moves on to fuss over how each necklace and bracelet was laying on him.

“I still can’t believe you decided to wear my cowboy boots.” Danny sighs, checking the time on his phone as he speaks. As usual, they were late and knowing the twins, Danny guessed they would be sitting in the driveway for at least 15 minutes as they finished getting ready at the very last minute.

“Hey, can’t have me tripping all over the place like last time. I’m practically a pro now, gotta dress and act like it.”

Danny shoots a glance towards Sam casually draped across the passenger seat of Danny’s car. His gaze goes from his cowboy boots, up his long legs clad in tight blue jeans, to his teal flannel tucked into the waistband of his pants with all but the bottom two buttons undone in true Sammy fashion, and finally lands on the tigers eye pendant resting at the base of his throat.

Danny cocks an eyebrow at the other man, “Oh, so you’re a pro now?”

“Yessir I am.” Sam smiles and begins reaching back to retrieve something from behind Danny’s seat. “And the boots aren’t the only thing I stole from your closet.”

Sam straightens, and in his hand is Danny’s black cowboy hat. Danny watches as he places it on his head, his long, wavy hair down, cascading down his shoulders from under Danny’s hat.

“Don’t think I forgot about that little comment you made about you doing the riding the next time we went back to Bradley’s.” Sam grins widely at Danny, shooting him a wink before both back doors of the car suddenly swing open.

The twins fling the doors open and practically throw themselves into the back seat, their trip from the front door to the car having gone unnoticed by both Sam and Danny, too distracted by their conversation to notice the other boys. Jake puts his seat belt on and settles into the seat behind Danny, with Josh doing the same behind Sam.

“Yes, I know we’re late. If you want someone to blame, blame Josh. He changed like five times I swear to god.”

Josh lets out a frustrated huff, rolling his eyes at his twin. “Shut up Jake I did not.”

“No? Oh ok, let’s see then,” he begins counting the different outfits Josh went through on his fingers as he explains, “There was the short sleeve brown striped jumpsuit, then the black muscle tee and your khaki pants, then there was the long sleeve white shirt with those pants, after that there was the long sleeve button up with leaves on it and your khaki shorts, only for you to finally decide on a short sleeve white shirt, your khaki shorts, and a brown bandana around your neck. So yeah, five different outfits.”

Jake continues despite Josh’s obvious annoyance with his brother’s rant. “Wanna know how many times I changed? None. I put this on, and I didn’t change it.”

Sam exaggerates looking Jake up and down, from the brown suede Chelsea boots he almost never took off, up to his hard-loved ripped jeans, and finally landing on the light blue button up he wore, all buttons undone except for the bottom two, just like Sam. “Maybe you should have.” Sam teases.

“Shut the fuck up dipshit. I’m not taking any outfit advice from someone wearing a cowboy hat.”

“Alright children, settle down.” Danny says as he backs out of the driveway. “Austin said his brother has his car, so we’re gonna pick him up before we head to the bar.”

Josh’s face pinkens at the mention of his name and immediately pretends not to care, turning his face towards the window to prevent the others from seeing the violent blush spreading across his cheeks.

As if practiced, Jake and Sam set in on teasing Josh, speaking at the same time, “OOOOOO Austinnnnn.”

“C’mon leave him alone guys.” Danny starts, stealing a glance back at Josh through the rear-view mirror. “I will warn you though, Josh, Sam refuses to give up his spot as passenger princess so he’ll have to sit in the back with you guys.”

Josh looks down at his lap, still attempting to pretend he was indifferent about Austin’s presence. “That’s fine, why would I care.”

Sensing his genuine shift in attitude, Sam and Jake quickly reassure their older brother.

“Hey, we’re just joking around. Promise we won’t say anything in front of Austin.” Sam starts.

Jake continues with the same sentiment, “Yeah, promise. We’re sorry if we went too far.”

Josh looks up and glances between his brothers, offering them a small smile. “It’s alright, you didn’t. Sorry if I’m sensitive about this, God it’s so stupid.” He laughs dryly, bringing his hands up to his face before continuing, “I haven’t had a dumb crush like this since like high school, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Josh.” He drops his hands and makes eye contact with Danny through the rear-view mirror before Danny continues, “Do you know how many times I got so embarrassingly easily flustered or nervous around Sammy before we got together? It’s normal, don’t worry.”

Josh smiles at his brother, “Thanks Danny.”

Danny returns the smile before shifting his focus to the numbers on each apartment building they passed. “Anytime, Josh. Uh speaking of, I’m pretty sure this is where he lives so one of you is gonna need to scoot to the middle.” He puts his car into park and reaches for his phone, sending a quick text to Austin letting him know they were there.

“I’m not moving my ass out of this seat.” Jake says pointedly.

Josh groans, letting his annoyance be known to his brothers as he unbuckles and shifts to the middle seat. “You are fucking insufferable.”

“You know it.” Jake responds cooly, casually putting his sunglasses on and leaning into the corner before manspreading, causing Josh’s body to be pushed into the space Austin would soon occupy.

“Seriously?? You’re fucking doing this on purpose. Move over.” He argues, beginning to shove at Jake and reclaim some of his lost space.

“No actually, my knee isn’t feeling too good right now, must have smacked it on something. Anyways, it’s uncomfortable bent so,” he spreads his knees wider, straightening his right leg out and further encroaching on Josh’s space. “I need to straighten it out.”

Josh knows that he’s lying but still gives up trying to fight Jake, looking at his twin defeatedly. “I wish I had eaten you in the womb.”

Sam snorts from the passenger seat as Jake responds sweetly, “Mmmmm you know you love me.”.

The car goes silent as a man approaches the car; he notices Danny and smiles at him warmly, dimples creasing his cheeks as he makes his way towards the passenger side of the car.

He opens the rear door and pauses, slightly confused at the palpable silence that had come between the boys. Danny is the first to break this silence, attempting to make casual conversation to ease the tension. “Hey Austin! How ya doin?”

Austin gets in the car and tries to put his seatbelt on, the latch blocked by Josh as Jake silently shoves his brother closer and closer to Austin. Having given up on trying to push Jake back, Josh grabs the back of each front seat, and pulls himself up long enough for Austin to buckle his seatbelt.

“Sorry, my brother is being a dick and taking up a shit ton of space next to me.” Josh says timidly, too nervous to look him in the eye.

“I told you, bad knee right now Joshy.” He responds, prodding Josh in his ribs for good measure.

“Don’t worry about it, darlin’. And I’m good Danny, thanks for askin’.” The surprise as the casual pet name causes Josh to meet his eyes, hazel and bright. He smiles wide and Josh returns it, despite the action sending a swarm of butterflies straight to Josh’s stomach. Austins cool leather jacket presses against Josh’s bare arm, and the rough denim of Austins black jeans rub against Josh’s thigh with each slight movement of either boy. With Jake subtly shoving Josh towards Austin, the points of contact between them causes a warm blush to settle on Josh’s cheeks.

Danny interrupts their moment, “Anyways, guys this is Austin. Austin, you obviously know Sam.” Danny gestures to his boyfriend in the passenger seat, who raises his hand in a brief wave and answers with a quiet “Hey” in recognition. “Behind me is Jake and next to him is Josh, I think you’ve met him a few times?”

Austin turns slightly in his seat to look at Josh as Danny shifts the car into drive and makes his way towards Bradley’s. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure we have! I remember that I really liked the hoop you have in your conch ear piercin’! I meant to tell you but didn’t get the chance the last time we were around each other.”

Josh’s face lights up at Austin’s compliment, and at the fact he even remembered him in the first place. “Thanks! I really like your septum piercing!”

“Thank you, darlin’.” The two gaze at each other, smiling for a couple seconds before a look passes onto Austins face as if he remembered something unpleasant. His attention turns towards Danny once again. “Oh uh, Dan, I just remembered. My asshole brother has my truck because he totaled his about three months ago, we got in a fight today because he’s a dick, and I finally snapped and told him he wasn’t allowed to use it anymore. Which worked out perfectly because the repair shop is right down the street from Bradley’s, and he said the work on his truck just got finished. He’s droppin’ it by the bar tonight, so I won’t need a ride home.”

Keeping his eyes on the road, Danny responds, “Sounds good, thanks for the heads up. Sorry you had a fight with your brother, I know you don’t mention him much but from what I’ve heard, he sounds like he sucks.”

Austin lets out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, uh, I don’t like talkin’ ‘bout him much, he’s a dick. He’s been stayin’ with me while his trucks in the shop and it has been livin’ hell being around him this much; I’m glad he’s goin’ back to the family farm now that he’s gettin’ his truck back.”

Jake lets his curiosity get the best of him, “So you and your brother, you aren’t close? You guys don’t get along?”

“Not anymore. We were fine as kids on the farm, we’re Irish twins, he was born in January and I was born November that same year, so we were real close growin’ up but,” he shrugs defeatedly, “As we got older he became more and more of an asshole. Anyways, he’s ruined enough of my nights these last couple months so since he ain’t gonna be my problem anymore I ain’t gonna think about him too much tonight.”

“I’m sorry your brother’s an asshole, Austin.” Josh says sympathetically.

Austin forces a smile onto his face, and looks at Josh. “It’s alright, darlin’. Not your fault. Besides, we’re goin’ out to have a good time tonight, we don’t needa think about him. Speakin’ of, it looks like we’re here.”

Sure enough, the boys look outside to see the passing neon lights of Bradley’s Honky Tonk. Just as it had been the first night Sam and Danny had gone, the parking along the road was completely full and people were milling around the entrance smoking or talking. Danny drives down to the same small mom and pop shop, already closed for the night again, and parks in an empty spot.

“Are y’all ready to party?!” Austin whoops, already unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the door.

The others follow suit, all of them piling out of the car before Danny locks it.

“Hell yeah!” Sam shouts, “I can’t wait to see my brothers eat shit trying to dance.”

Danny takes Sams hand as the group begins to walk towards the bright lights of the bar. “Love, you almost ate shit the first time we danced.”

“Shhhh they don’t need to know that, Daniel.” Sam jokingly whispers back.

“Correction, Sam. It’ll be fun to watch Josh eat shit trying to dance. There’s nothing you could do to get me on that dance floor.” Jake responds.

“Why the fuck did you even come then?”

Jake dons a gravelly British accent, “Because, Joshua, I fully intend on drinking so much that the horrid sound of country music no longer irritates me.” He pauses and loops his arm over Josh’s shoulders, continuing in the same accent, “And I truly wish to see you eat shit trying to dance.”

Josh shrugs his arm off and puts a few feet of distance between him and Jake as they walked. “Fuck off, Jake.”

Austin strolls up alongside Josh, putting his arm around his shoulder just as Jake had done. “Aw, it’s alright, darlin’. You can dance with me if you’d like to. I ain’t got a partner tonight and sure as hell know my way around on the dance floor so wouldn’t wanna steal a queen from any newbies in need.”

Josh blushes bright red and leans into Austin’s side without thinking. “Yeah, uh, that’d be great.”

The group make their way past small congregations of people, mostly drag queens taking a break from the crowded bar to have a cigarette or two before they hit the dance floor. As they pass a group of three standing near the door, one of the queens notices Jake walking alone behind the other two pairs, the only one in the group without a “partner”, and reaches out to lightly touch Jake’s shoulder.

She speaks in a voice as smooth and sweet as honey, “Hey mon beau, find me later if you ain’t got a dancing partner.” She winks as they continue past her group, and Jake lets himself stare as he takes in every aspect of each of them.

To her right stood a drag queen with a cigarette hanging off her bottom lip. Her long black hair laid in messy waves down her back, cascading over the silky green fabric of her dress. Jake lets his eyes travel downwards as he notices the slits on both sides of her dress, exposing her legs all the way up to the thigh. He brings his eyes upwards, finally noticing a name tag pinned to her chest reading “Faebelle” and the bright red of her colored contacts contrasting perfectly with her tan skin.

To the left of the queen who had spoken to him stood a shorter drag queen with tight, bright pink coils of curls framing her face. She wore a multicolored pastel tulle A-Line dress that showed off her legs clad in fishnet tights with small hearts here and there and pastel pink platform heels. As Jake had done with Faebelle, the last things he noticed was her name tag reading “Shimmer”, and the stark white of her contacts.

Finally, Jake allows his gaze to settle on the queen in the middle, the one that had initially spoken to him. He takes in her neat, black locks held back by a thin scrap of maroon fabric as if it were a headband, before his eyes travel to her white button up shirt, the top couple of buttons undone with a tight black corset overtop. Her legs are covered with tight leather pants, tucked into brown suede knee-high heels. On top of it all, she wore a green coat, the bottom of it coming to an end just above her ankles. He tears his gaze upwards, catching a glimpse of her name tag momentarily. “Sirena”. When his eyes finally find her face, he is met with her staring right back at him, a fake scar painted vertically on to her face above and below her left eye, the color of it standing out against her warm brown skin.

“Hey! Jake! You coming or what?” Sam calls at him from the entrance to the bar. Jake suddenly realizes that he had stopped to gawk at the three drag queens, leaving him behind with them as the others made their way into the building.

Jake rapidly looks from the queens still staring at him, to his brother calling out to him 20 feet away. “Yeah, uh, coming.” He takes one final look at Sirena before turning and walking towards Sam, cheeks warm and tinged pink from the interaction.

He gets past the bouncer quickly and joins Sam as he pulls him further into the bar. “Hey, I think Josh grabbed a table for us over there.” He shouts over the blaring music.

They weave their way through the groups of people occupying the bar space, finally spotting Josh across the room at the only “empty” table and Jake comes to a stop next to him, Sam weaving around the table and taking a seat on the other side.

Josh only needs to take one look at his twin to know that something had happened. “Hey, Jakey. You good? You look a little flushed. Do you need water or anything?” 

He sits down next to Josh, thoughts racing in his mind as he tries to sort through his feelings. “Uh yeah, I’m fine. You know that group of three drag queens we passed right by the door?”

Sam inserts himself into the conversation. “Do you mean the ones you were ogling?”

“Shut up, Sam. I wasn’t “ogling” them. I think one of them was flirting with me? They were-“ he sucks a sharp breath in through his teeth. “Very very attractive. And, I’m realizing that I don’t really care that they’re a drag queen. I mean, I don’t know what they look like out of drag or what pronouns they use but, I don’t think I would care.” He looks between his brothers, expecting to see even the slightest look of surprise on their face. Instead, Jake is met with deadpanned looks, their eyebrows only slightly raised.

“Well,” Josh starts, “I mean I would say I’m surprised but, surprisingly, I’m not. Listen, I understand the feeling and I know this really isn’t the best place to have this realization. All I can say is, thank you for sharing this with us and try not to let it weigh on you too much tonight. Just follow your initial feelings and see where it leads you, Jake.”

“I agree. And hey, maybe following those feelings will lead you to their place tonight.” Sam teases lightly, winking at him.

“Again, shut up Sam. And yeah… yeah ok. Thank you, Josh.” He says quietly, already losing himself in his thoughts.

“Anytime, Jakey. And hey, now you can’t give me any more shit about Austin, cause if you do I have this to fire back at you.” He jokes lightly.

This jest pulls Jake back into the moment, chuckling at his brother’s retort. “Yeah, yeah, ok. I’ll try and lay off the jokes.”

Just as their conversation ends, the other two boys find their way to the table, drinks in hand.

“Alright Jake, I got you a tequila on the rocks.” Danny tells him as he hands him a glass.

As they set the rest of the drinks on the table, Danny continues listing off their various orders. “Rum and coke for me, Dirty Shirley for Sam, with four maraschino cherries of course.”

Sam smiles at his boyfriend, “Thank you, Daniel.”

Danny returns the smile. “Of course, love. Anyways, a salty dog for Josh, and last but not least, a Screwdriver for Austin.”

Austin takes the seat on the other side of Josh, slightly leaning into him as the rest of the group situates themselves on the bar stools, quickly losing themselves in conversation amongst each other, giving Austin and Josh a small amount of privacy.

“Oooo a Screwdriver,” Josh starts, “Haven’t had one of those in so long.”

“You can try mine if you’d like, darlin’. It’s one of my favorite drinks. Although in return, I might need to have a taste of that, what did Dan say it was? Salty Dog, right? Don’t reckon I’ve ever tried one.”

“Of course, go ahead.” Josh replies smiling, sliding his glass towards Austin as an invitation. They exchange drinks, each taking a sip at the same time.

“Hoowee that is bitter!” Austin exclaims.

Josh laughs, “Yeah that’s the grapefruit juice. Your Screwdriver has a little too much orange juice for my liking but, not the worst I’ve ever had.”

They swap glasses again and take a sip of their respective drinks.

Josh makes a face, half wincing at the tartness of his drink. “Ah- yeah that does have a bit more grapefruit juice in it than what I make at home but, hey, still good.”

“I guess I’ll just have to come over and have you make one for me then.” Austin says quietly, shooting Josh a small smile. “Just for, y’know, fairness. Can’t judge you too hard on your drink order until I taste one made to your liking.”

Josh’s face pinkens and he looks down at his drink, fidgeting with his glass as he summons the courage in him. “If I didn’t know any better Austin, then I’d think you were flirting with me.”

“Maybe I am, darlin’. Is that a problem?” The comment catches Josh off guard, his eyes darting back up to Austin only to find him calmly staring back, paused with his glass raised to his lips before he takes a slow sip. He sets the glass down, a sheepish smile playing on his lips as he waits for Josh to respond.

Josh stutters, trying to find the words as his mind reels at this confession. “Uh, yeah, WAIT, no, I mean no. That’s uh, not a problem.”

Austin smiles wide at how flustered Josh had gotten over one sentence and chuckles lightly. “I’m not tryin’ to be rude by laughin’, darlin’. You’re cute, is all.”

Josh grins at the other boy. “Thanks. Uh, I think you’re cute too.” He takes a sip of his drink to cool down, sure that his face is bright burning red.

Both boys suddenly realize that the rest of the table had grown quiet, now staring at the interaction between them with bated breath.

Jake is the first to break the silence, “Fucking finally.” He takes a swig of his drink, noticing the ice had begun to melt as it sat untouched, his mind still too focused on Sirena.

The topic is changed suddenly when Austins phone screen lights up with a text from “Asshat”. He checks the message, sighing deeply as he puts his phone in his pocket, taking a long drink from his glass before speaking. “My brother just got here, I gotta go grab my keys from him. I’ll be back in a second.”

“Want someone to come with you?” Danny asks, concern for his friend apparent in his tone.

“Na, I’ll be alright. Thank you though, Dan.” With that, he makes his way through the people and out the door.

The group goes silent, each turning to their drinks, finishing or close to finishing them.

“So, uh.” Danny starts, looking at Josh. “Not to be nosy but, you and Austin?”

Josh smiles softly, once again fidgeting with his glass. “Yeah, uh, I guess the feeling was mutual after all. I mean, it’s not like we’ve had a conversation about our feelings or anything but, it’s looking good? I think.”

“Looking better than just good, Joshy. I’d bet you could be getting lucky tonight.” Sam says with a wink.

“Shhh, love. Leave him alone.” Danny says with a smile, silently agreeing with his boyfriend but wanting to keep the others from teasing Josh about it too much.

Dannys phone buzzes and he checks the notification, frowning as he reads the message out loud to the others. “It’s from Austin. He says, ‘Hey, I’m really sorry Dan, my brother is insistent on meeting y’all, I can’t convince him otherwise. I’ll try to make it quick, just wanted to give y’all a warning that we’ll be in in a minute.’”

Danny sighs, looking around at the others before speaking. “No matter how much of a douche this guy is, please just grin and bear it. The sooner he leaves, the better. And I have a feeling he’ll start shit if he feels any “threat”.”

The boys grumble their agreements, promising to try and play nice.

“Oh shit, don’t look but here they come.” Josh says to Danny and Sam, their backs to the entrance of the building. “God, he even looks like an asshole.”

A figure appears by Sam’s side, sandwiching him between Danny and this newcomer. Sam feels him before he hears him, an all too familiar arm snaking around his back and grabbing his side.

“Well I’ll be damned. I’ve been hopin’ I’d run into you again, sugar.”

Dallas.

Sam jumps out of his seat away from Dallas, putting space between them as he takes a few steps back. Danny stiffens and turns in his seat towards Dallas, subconsciously putting his arm in front of Sam and pushing him behind him. His response comes fast. “Didn’t I tell you we’d have more of a fucking problem if you came near us again?” Danny spews, anger instantly taking him over as he tries to stay collected.

“I see you’re still hangin’ round with this overprotective bastard, sugar. He finally man up and make it official or are y’all still ‘just friends’?” Dallas sneers.

“Woah, woah, you know each other?” Austin asks, confusion clear on his face.

Dallas winks at Sam, still held behind Danny. “I sure as hell know Sammy boy, very well might I add-“

Danny cuts him off. “Unfortunately. He wouldn’t leave Sam alone the last time we were here, he fucking sexually harassed him and wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. He tried to fight me and got himself kicked out.”

Everyone at the table’s jaw drops and Austin turns to Dallas, enraged. “Oh my god was that the fuckin’ night you totaled your truck? You told me that you had a little too much to drink and was distracted at your anger from unfairly gettin’ kicked outta a bar. If what Danny said you did is true, that don’t sound unfair to me, Dallas.”

Dallas turns on Austin, his voice rising as he grows angrier and angrier. “Pretty boy over there is a fuckin’ liar. That ain’t what happened. He’s just upset someone else showed interest in his friend, he was too chicken to make a fuckin’ move so I did. Who are you gonna believe, Austin? Some random friend who has jealousy issues, or your own fuckin’ brother?”

“Dan.” Austin says in a calm and collected tone. “I believe Daniel.”

Dallas makes a noise of indignation, furious at his brother for not taking his side. “You gotta be fuckin’ jokin’ me, Austin! Seriously? You’re takin’ his side over mine?”

“You’re a piece of shit, Dallas. I don’t care if you’re my brother. I know you, and I know Dan. I know that he’s tellin’ the truth. You’re so fulla shit that your eyes are brown. Now get the fuck out before I make you.” Austin replies through bared teeth.

Dallas laughs, loud and self-righteous. “What’re you gonna do little brother? I would like to see you try.”

Austin takes a threatening step towards his brother, using the extra inch of height he had on him to his advantage. He jabs his finger into his chest, using all the anger he felt to convey how serious he was about making Dallas leave. “I’ll only say it one more time, Dallas. Get the fuck outta here before I make you. I put up with you this long because I had to, and I didn’t have the nerve to say it sooner. This is the final fuckin’ straw, I don’t wanna see your pathetic fuckin’ face again. Now run back home to the farm with Ma and do the only thing you’re good at. Shovelin’ shit.”

Dallas sputters, looking to the others at the table for any backup. Finding none, his attention turns towards Austin once more. He mutters a livid “Fuck y’all.” before turning on his heel and marching out the door red faced.

Austin watches him leave and takes a deep breath before turning to Sam and Danny, guilt and apology written across his face. “I am, so fuckin’ sorry. I would never have let him come in with me if I knew the shit he did to you, Sam. Hell, I would’ve kicked him out onto my doormat the second he came callin’ askin’ for my help.”

With Dallas gone, Sam takes his seat again, now between Danny and Austin. “It’s alright, really. You didn’t know. And it was fucking incredible to see him get put in his place.” Sam offers a slight smile to Austin, “Thank you for backing us up.”

Understanding that he wasn’t upset with him, Austin returns the smile. It slowly turns into a grimace as he thinks about his brother’s actions. “Of course. It’s… it wouldn’t be the first time he’s had issues with takin’ ‘no’ for an answer. Over the last few years I’ve, unfortunately, had to drag him out of multiple bars before he got us kicked out for tryin’ to start shit with people who called him out on it.”

Prompted by various questions from Jake and Josh, Austin begins telling them stories of the trouble Dallas almost got him in to. With the others focused on Austin, Danny silently tugs on the elbow of Sam’s shirt, getting his attention without the others noticing.

“You ok, love?” Danny questions his boyfriend quietly. “We can leave if you want.”

“No, no, I want to stay. Just like last time, I don’t want a few moments with him to ruin the entire night.” He reassures, placing his hand on Danny’s thigh and giving it a gentle comforting squeeze. “I’m ok, really.”

Austin finishes summarizing some of the things Dallas had done, and the attention of the three other boys is drawn to Sam. “Listen, Sam, we-“ Jake starts, “We had no idea that happened, that he did… that to you.”

Josh continues, “Yeah, that’s some serious shit. Are you ok?”

Sam looks between his two older brothers, grateful for their genuine concern. “Yeah, I’m ok. He didn’t… he didn’t go “too far”. Just a few less than pleasant comments and he wouldn’t let go of me while dancing after he stole me from Danny.” He looks over at his boyfriend, “Danny swooped in and saved the day though. I swear he looked like he was about to take and/or throw a punch for me.”

“Not that we didn’t approve of him as your boyfriend before but,” Jake laughs, “We definitely approve of him now.”

Josh cuts in, “Not that you need our approval of course.” He pauses for a moment, turning his attention to his twin for backup. “Right Jake?”

When he doesn’t get a reply, he looks over at him only to see his focus had suddenly shifted to across the room, his eyes fixed intently on the drag queen that had spoken to him before they entered the bar stepping up onto a small stage.

Josh elbows him in the ribs. “I said, right Jake?”

He whips his head towards the rest of the group again. “Oh uh, yeah? I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Josh chuckles. “Distracted? Are we?”

Jake’s cheeks redden, and he looks down at his glass, embarrassed. “Shut up.”

Before Josh can retort, the drag queen in question taps a microphone, getting everyone in the bar’s attention. “Hey y’all! How we doin’ out there tonight?”

She’s met with a cacophony of whoops and hollers from the patrons. She lets everyone quiet down before continuing with a grin, “Fantastic, just what I like to hear! For those of you who don’t know, my name’s Sirena de Lune,” she searches through the sea of people before her eyes land on Jake, winking at him as he stares, awestruck. “But y’all can call me Sirena. Now, before me and my drag sisters, and a few of my drag brothers, hit the dance floor to welcome all you newcomers tonight, we have a little performance for y’all!”

The crowd cheers once more, causing her to almost need to shout to be heard, even with the mic. “So I better see some tips in the air for my sisters!” Met with another roar from the crowd, she hands the mic off and is joined by the two other drag queens Jake had seen her with outside the bar. They take their places, and the twangy guitar intro to their song begins blaring over the speakers.

“I remember it all very well, lookin’ back

It was the summer I turned eighteen.

We lived in a one room, rundown shack

On the outskirts of New Orleans”

The three of them light up the stage with their personas, lip-syncing to the song in practiced perfection before quickly splitting off into the crowd. They weave through the crowd, continuing their performance as they pluck the tips from the fingertips held high in their directions.

“Shit, I only have fives and tens, any of you have any ones?” Josh shouts at the others at the table. All except Jake shake their heads, not having expected the performance and need for dollar bills. He turns to his twin, noticing he hadn’t responded. “Jake? Hey, what about you?”

Jake is too enthralled to hear the question, blindly shifting through the bills in his wallet as he keeps his eyes on Sirena, who was slowly but surely making her way towards their table. Her eyes seem to skirt over Jake, teasing him with her avoidance.

Her eyes finally lock on him, and his breath catches in his throat as she begins to make her way directly towards them.

“It sounded like somebody else, that was talkin’

Askin’, “mama, what do I do?”

She said, “just be nice to the gentlemen, Fancy

They’ll be nice to you.””

She reaches their table, taking the tips from the other boys before finally reaching Jake.

“She said, “here’s your one chance, Fancy, don’t let me down.

Here’s your one chance, Fancy, don’t let me down.

Lord, forgive me what I do,

But if you want out-”

Her hand that wasn’t clutching her tips traces Jake’s hairline and slowly lowers to his jaw, tilting his chin up to her, just inches from her face as she sings along to,

“well, it’s up to you.

Now don’t let me down now

Your mama’s gonna move you uptown.”

Her hand runs down his arm holding the tip he had for her, slipping it out of his grip before she winks, breaking their contact by taking two steps back and turning away from him.

“HOLY SHIT JAKE?” Sam shouts over the music, “I DON’T CARE IF YOU SAID YOU WEREN’T DANCING TONIGHT, YOU HAVE TO DANCE WITH HER!”

Josh physically shakes him out of his daze roughly, snapping him back to reality. “YOU KNOW YOU JUST GAVE HER A TWENTY, RIGHT? SHE’S DEFINITELY GONNA ASK TO DANCE WITH YOU NOW, THAT’S A HELL OF A FUCKING TIP!”

With his mind still occupied with the interaction, Jake doesn’t care that he gave her the largest bill in his wallet. His eyes follow her as she zig-zags back through the crowd towards the stage, still collecting tips.

The three queens arrive at the stage and throw their tips in the air, causing them to flutter down on them as the song comes to a close and they stand, catching their breath. Without the music to drown the crowd out, their volume is deafening as people stand to applaud them as they re-collect their tips from where they had fallen.

Sirena is once again handed the mic, straightening as she continues to catch her breath. “Whoo, I don’t know about my sisters but y’all, I am winded!” She jokes as the other two laugh and nod in agreement. “We’re headin’ straight to Shake Shack later so, thank y’all for the tips. Looks like got a whole round of shakes on y’all!”

Her laugh sends a thrill through Jake, her personality and stage presence electrifying him from within.

“Now, me and my sisters need a few minutes to catch our breaths, but we got a whole crew of queens and a few kings that will be hittin’ the floor momentarily. I’ll turn the mic over to my baby brother,” she points to a drag king in the crowd with the same eye and jaw shape as her, clad in tight leather pants a white fishnet shirt, tattoo patterned chest tape visible through the mesh. “He’s gonna help all you new folks warm up for some dancin’!”

The crowd cheers as he makes his way towards the stage, taking the mic from Sirena and turning to face the crowd.

“Hey y’all! Let’s give another round of applause for my big sister and our lovely drag sisters!” He pauses, letting the crowd cheer one final time for the queens as they exit the stage. “My name is Sparrow de Lune, and for all of y’all wondering, yes, Sirena is my biological sibling. She gives me shit for “stealing” the de Lune part of the name but, hey, guess you could say it’s a family name now.” He laughs, watching Sirena as she shakes her head at him smiling, before heading backstage.

“Anyways, before we officially kick off the line dancin’ tonight, we’re gonna warm y’all up. Anyone here know the Cotton Eyed Joe?”

The crowd erupts once more, a few stray wolf whistles joining in with the cheers.

“Fantastic! So I need everyone to hit the dance floor, nice and orderly like please, and for those of y’all who aren’t familiar with the dance, I’ll be up here on stage doin’ it too so y’all can watch me and follow along!”

The statement is followed by the sound of chairs skidding across the floor as people get up and make their way to the dance floor, organizing themselves so no one bumps into each other when the dance starts.

Josh looks over at Austin, raising his eyebrows as he asks timidly, “You wanna-?”

Austin smiles broadly at him, already hopping off his stool and making his way around the table towards him. “Hell yes, lets go.” He looks at the others at the table, “Y’all comin’?”

Danny’s already getting up, his hand on Sam’s arm to pull him with him. “Of course!” When Sam doesn’t move, Danny uses the same tactics he had to get Sam to come with him the first night they came to dance, batting puppy dog eyes at him. “C’mon loveeee, you wouldn’t make me dance alone, would you?”

Sam rolls his eyes, pretending to be annoyed as he tries to hide the slight smile on his lips. “You won’t be alone, you’ve got Josh and Austin.”

Danny rolls his eyes back, “You know what I mean. C’mon it’s way easier than any of the dancing we’ve done before. Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder and carry you to the dance floor.” He jokes, both men knowing he wouldn’t if Sam really didn’t want to dance.

“Yeah, I’d like to see you try.” Sam replies as he slides off his barstool, willingly being pulled by Danny. Before the group leaves Josh looks at Jake, who still sat unmoving on his stool.

“Hey, you coming with us?”

“Na, I’m good. I’d rather not be a fifth wheel, you guys have fun though.”

“Loserrrrrrr.” Sam calls as he walks away from the table, Dannys hand in his own.

Jake rolls his eyes, flipping him off before he gets lost in the sea of people.

“You sure, Jakey? It could still be fun.” Josh tries one more time.

He smiles at his twin, “Yeah, go have fun. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

With that, Josh shrugs and turns towards Austin, grabbing his hand in a bold move as they follow Sam and Danny to the dance floor.

The intro blasts over the speakers as the four boys find a spot on the dance floor.

“If it hadn’t been for Cotton-Eye Joe

I’d been married long time ago

Where did you come from, where did you go?

Where did you come from, Cotton-Eye Joe?”

Danny immediately jumps into the motions perfectly, with Sam struggling beside him, his motions delayed as he tries not to trip over his own feet.

“Jesus fuck, Daniel. How the hell are you so good at this?” Sam yells, still struggling to time his movements with the song.

Danny looks down at Sams attempts at the dance, lightheartedly laughing. “You’d think for a bass player, you’d have better rhythm.”

Sam swats his arm lightly, still too focused on the dance to do anything more. “Yeah, yeah, leave me alone I’m still learning how to play. I’m not good enough yet to play at Madison Square Garden or anything.”

He looks over towards Josh and Austin, hoping that at least one of them would be struggling as much as he was. To his dismay, both men are laughing and hitting each beat flawlessly.

“Fuck me.” Sam grumbles to himself under his breath.

“Mmmm maybe later, kinda busy right now.” Danny replies with a smile.

Blood rushes to Sams face as he literally trips over his own feet, Danny coming to the rescue and helping to steady him, somehow not skipping even a beat as he does it.

“Woah there, steady partner.” Danny laughs.

“Shut up.”

A few people in the crowd over, Josh and Austin dance, oblivious to the events that just unfolded between the other two.

“Wait wait wait, Austin. Why the hell are you adding that spin?” Josh shouts with a wide grin on his face.

“Why the hell are you not? This is how you do the dance!” He replies, grinning back at Josh.

“I’ve never seen anyone in my life do it like that!”

“Then I guess you’ve never seen anyone do it right, darlin’”

Jake watches from the table and laughs as he sees Sam almost fall (again), only to be righted by Danny beside him. He spots Josh and Austin, caught in what seemed to be a playful argument, both men beaming at the other as they danced.

A familiar voice beside him distracts him from his observations.

“You not into dancin’, mon beau?”

Sirena. Jake turns slightly to face her, towering over him.

She gestures to the stool next to him that was previously occupied by Josh. “Mind if I sit?”

“Oh, uh, no, go ahead. And uh, not really? I hadn’t planned on dancing, just came as support for my brothers. I mean I know this dance but didn’t want to be a fifth wheel.” Jake wipes his palms on his pants, already flustered from the brief interaction with her.

“That’s understandable, mon beau. It’s nice you came for your brothers though. You said “support”, mind if I ask what you mean by that?”

He points at Josh, “You see the short one with curly hair? That’s my twin, Josh. And the two over there are Sam and Danny. Danny’s not my biological brother, but he’s been best friends with Sam for so long he’s like a brother to Josh and I.” He glances at Sirena, who sat intently focused on his story. “They’ve been into each other for years, but just now got together a couple months ago. They came out to Josh and I last week and told us how they finally admitted their feelings to each other dancing here, so they invited us tonight cause we wanted to see the place.”

She smiles at him. “That’s sweet of you and Josh, mon beau. I bet Sam and Danny are grateful for y’alls support.”

Jakes cheeks pinken at the comment and he smiles, “Yeah… it’s kind of funny, with them coming out, I’m the only,” he brings his hands up, motioning air quotes as he says, “”Straight” brother left. But anyways, if I may ask; what do you keep calling me? “Mon beau”? What does that mean?”

“It means “my beautiful” in French. If that ain’t too forward of me.”

His face lights on fire, and he knows he must be red as a tomato. “Oh- uh. Yeah. Ok. That isn’t… that isn’t too forward of you. Thank you?” He clears his throat, finally getting the courage to look at Sirena again. “Uhm, you know French?”

“Yeah, my dad’s from France, so Sparrow and I are fluent. That’s why part of our drag names are “de Lune”.” She smiles at him again. “It means “moon”.”

He smiles “Oh shit- that’s really cool, I love the moon. I see you’re a man of many talents then.” He pauses, thinking about what he said. “Or- shit, I mean woman?” Smiling timidly, he continues. “I’m sorry, I’m kind of new to this.”

This brings a laugh as smooth as her voice from Sirena. “Don’t worry about it, mon beau. You were right the first time, I’m a man who’s comfortable in his gender identity enough to do drag sometimes. Well, a lot of the time to be honest. Pretty fun “side gig”, if you will.”

“Ah, ok. That’s cool.” Still nervous, Jake rethinks his response once again. “I mean it, I don’t know if I don’t sound genuine. I really do mean it.” He tries for a smile. “I’m just digging myself into a deeper hole at this point, I’m sorry.”

She touches his arm lightly, reassuring him. “Don’t worry about it, mon beau. Like you said, you’re new to this.”

The Cotton-Eye Joe ends, and Sparrow grabs the mic again before Jake can get any more flustered by Sirena’s pet names.

“That was great y’all! Are we all warmed up now and ready for some more dancin’?”

The crowd cheers, and he continues over the remaining few whoops here and there. “Fantastic! Now tonight is a partners night, but if you’re new here or don’t have one, find one of our lovely drag queens or kings out there and ask ‘em to dance! Thanks for comin’ out tonight!”

With that, patrons bustle around the dance floor, exiting it or finding their partner for the night as a song starts loudly.

“I don’t care if it rains or freezes long as I got my plastic Jesus

Sittin’ on the dashboard of my car.

Going down there, it ain’t scary ‘cause I’ve got the virgin Mary

Sittin’ on the dashboard of my car.”

Jake spots the others leaving the dance floor and making their way back towards their table.

“You guys have fun?” Jake asks, attempting to divert any conversation away from him and Sirena as he sees Sam’s “told you so” smirk creeping onto his face.

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun tripping over my feet the entire time.”

Danny tries to lift his spirits. “Awww, c’mon baby you weren’t that bad.”

Sam looks at him doubtfully. “Uh huh, right.”

“Y’all ain’t dancin’ to this song? Don’t like it or just don’t wanna dance?” Sirena questions.

Josh answers, “I don’t know about them, but I am fucking winded holy shit. I need a breather. Everyone makes it look so easy to just dance song after song.”

Noticing the others taking their seats, leaving Josh standing, Sirena realizes that she must have taken his. “Oh shit, hun. I stole your spot, didn’t I?”

She makes a move to get up before he interjects, “Don’t worry about it! I’m fine standing, really.” He moves to the other side of the table, standing close next to Austin.

“So, Jakey,” Sam starts with a mischievous smile. “You gonna introduce us to your new friend?”

“Oh, shit yeah, my bad.” He blushes, already knowing how much Sam and Josh will tease him later for it. “This is Sirena.”

She smiles at the group, “Nice to meet y’all.”

“Nice to meet you too. So, you single?”

Danny swats his boyfriend. “Sam!”

He puts on a show of innocence, “What?”

“Yeah, I am, hun. Why do you ask?”

He smirks at Jake, “Mmmm no reason. Just curious is all.”

Their conversation is interrupted by a man with curly, sandy colored hair tapping on Sirena’s shoulder.

“Excuse me ma’am, I was wondering if you had a dance partner tonight.”

“Oh I’m sorry, hun. I do.” She gestures to Jake. “However, over there’s Faebelle, I don’t think she’s got a dance partner yet.”

He smiles kindly at her and Jake, “No worries! Thank you, ma’am.” and turns, walking towards Faebelle across the room.

Stepping fully into his annoying younger sibling role, Sam butts in. “So, you’ve decided to dance tonight? What happened to getting drunk and not dancing?”

“Change of heart, I guess.” Jake half-grumbles, knowing exactly what game Sam was trying to play with him.

“Well, darlin’, I’m glad you did. I reckon it would’ve been awkward as hell if I had turned down that gentleman just to not have a partner after all.”

The rest of the table quietly observes the interaction, Sam just waiting for another chance to butt-in and tease Jake.

“You ever line danced with a partner before, mon beau?”

Surprisingly, it’s Austin that interrupts their conversation. “Oh, tu parles français aussi?” [Oh, you speak French too?]

She beams at him, “Oui, je parle assez couramment.” [Yes, I’m quite fluent.]

The rest of the table watches, jaws dropped, as they casually continue their conversation in French.

“C’est génial! As-tu étudié le français à l’école?” [That’s cool! Did you study French at school?]

“Non, mon pére est français, donc j’ai grandi en parlant français.” [No, my dad is French, so I grew up speaking French.]

“Encore une fois, c’est genial. J’ai appris à l’école, donc tu en sais problement beaucoup plus que moi.” [Again, that’s cool. I learned at school, so you probably know a lot more than I do.]

Sam and Josh speak at the same time.

“I’m sorry, what?” Sam asks in awe.

Josh comes next, “Jake, did you understand any of that?”

“Only about half. I mean I remember enough from High School to get the gist of it but definitely not enough to carry or join in on a conversation.”

It’s Danny’s turn next to ask a question, “Austin where did you learn French and how the fuck did I not know you were fluent?”

Austin laughs, “Hold your horses there, Dan. I wouldn’t say I’m fluent. Took it in High School, somehow ended up in AP French so it’s kind of just stuck in my head. Never have a need to use it ‘round here so I guess that’s why you’ve never heard me speak it.”

Josh looks at Austin as if he’d just hung the stars in the sky.

“That’s fucking incredible. I don’t know about Danny, but all I remember from High School German is “Krankenwagen”.”

“Yeah no, all German is gone from my mind. Blocked that shit OUT. I fucking hated Frau Werner, and she hated me too.”

Sam joins in on the conversation again, “All I remember from Spanish is “¿Puedo ir al baño?” because my teacher wouldn’t let us go to the bathroom if we asked in English.”

“¿Recuerdas algo mas?” [Remember anything else?]

“YOU KNOW SPANISH TOO?” Sam exclaims, drawing a laugh from Sirena.

“Yeah, and Latin, hun. I’m learnin’ Portuguese and Italian but I ain’t good enough to carry a conversation in ‘em.”

Jake stares at her in wonder. “You’re fucking incredible.”

She grows bashful from the compliment and eyes on her, chuckling before she responds. “I don’t know if I’d call myself that, mon beau. I guess y’all could say one of my hobbies is learnin’ languages. Anyways, back to you, you ever line dance with a partner?”

“Uh, no. This isn’t exactly my regular scene.”

“Don’t worry about that, mon beau. I got you.”

“Yeah, it’s so easy even I can do it, so if you’re shit at it just keep that in mind.”

“Shut up, Sam.” Jake says for the third time that night.

Before Sam can make a quip back, a new song starts playing, drawing a dramatic gasp from Josh.

Everyone’s heads snap towards him, trying to figure out the cause of the gasp. He grabs Austin’s arm, already trying to pull him towards the dance floor. “Oh my fucking god I love this song. Can we dance?”

“Jesus fuck, Josh, I thought someone died. You scared the shit out of me.” Sam says as he rubs his forehead like an exasperated parent.

Austin only laughs, sliding off his barstool to join him. “Of course we can, darlin’.”

They leave without another word with Josh practically running towards the floor, dragging Austin behind him.

Sam turns towards Danny, smiling at him. “You love this song too, don’t you?”

Danny grins at the fact that Sam had remembered, only having mentioned it once or twice over the many years they’d known each other. “Yeah, I do. Wanna dance?”

“Lead the way partner.”

The pair split off into the crowd together, once again leaving Jake and Sirena alone. The second verse starts as Sirena begins to speak.

“I, I, got a new girlfriend here

Feels like he’s on top.

And I don’t feel no remorse.

And you can’t see past my blindness.”

“Well, mon beau. This is sort of a slower song to dance to but, you down to start learnin’ how?”

Jake flushes, his stomach alight with butterflies. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

She offers him her hand as they get off their stools, “Don’t worry about it, mon beau. Follow my lead, promise I’ll do all the heavy liftin’.”

They follow the path the others had taken through the crowd, finding a spot on the dance floor. Sirena places her hands on Jake’s shoulders before she brings them down his arms, taking his hands in her own.

“Loosen up, mon beau. I gotchu.”

She slowly pushes him away, still holding his hands in her own before bringing him back towards her, steadily spinning him behind her with one hand. He ends up pressed flush against her, face to face, as they slowly sway to the music.

“See, that wasn’t too bad?”

He laughs lightly, his breath shallow from the proximity. “Yeah guess not.”

A few pairs over, Sam and Danny dance together, more slow dancing to the song than line dancing. Danny twirls Sam around a few times out of the blue, causing him to laugh and press close to him as they continue swaying to the music.

“Having fun, baby?”

“Yeah, Daniel, I’m really glad we came.”

Dannys eyes sparkle as he gazes down at his boyfriend, still shorter than him despite the small heels on his (Danny’s) boots. Danny sings along to the song, quietly enough for Sam to be the only one that hears it.

“”Honey, I love you.”

That’s all she wrote.

Oh, Ophelia

You’ve been on my mind, girl, like a drug.

Oh, Ophelia

Heaven help the fool who falls in love.”

Sam beams at Danny, pressing a light kiss to his lips as they keep dancing. “I love you too, honey.”

The song comes to a close and another starts, the upbeat twangy guitar intro a complete 180 from the song before it. Sam laughs as he sees Austin immediately switch the pace of Josh and his dance, catching Josh by surprise and almost falling, steadying himself against the other man’s chest.

“Shit, darlin’, didn’t mean to catch you off guard there.”

Josh laughs, blushing as Austin keeps him pressed close to his chest. “Don’t worry about it, I need to learn how to line dance for real anyways.”

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” he whoops. “C’mon darlin’ I gotchu.” He says before spinning Josh behind him and carrying on with the faster pace.

Jake’s attention is caught by this exclamation, looking over to see his brother grinning ear to ear as he got spun around again by Austin. Sirena gently grabs his jaw, turning his head to face her once more.

“Eyes on me, mon beau. This song is more upbeat, you think you can handle it?”

Probably not, he thinks, instead responding, “Yeah, sure!”

She smiles broadly, giving, “Hold on tight!” as the only warning before she suddenly spins him behind her, keeping the swift pace as she takes the lead in their dance.

“When I get the money, we can run away.

Sing a little song ‘bout yesterday.

They’re never gonna catch me, long as I’m alive.

You and me together, we’ll survive.”

Her smile widens when Jake doesn’t trip, and instead matches the time of her movements. “Hey, you ain’t too bad at this, mon beau. You’re keepin’ up mighty fine.”

“Have a great partner. One who’s not just great at dancing but also gorgeous as hell.”

It’s Sirena’s turn to be flustered by the others comment, “You flirtin’ with me?”

Jake’s doesn’t hesitate with his response, “Maybe I am, Captain.”

She raises her eyebrows in question. “Captain?”

“Yeah uh…” Jake blushes, the confidence he had suddenly gained slowly draining from him. “I was just thinking, Sirena, Siren, Piratey, y’know? Sorry, that came out of nowhere.” He looks down, too embarrassed to make eye contact.

Sirena brings her hand to his chin, bringing his gaze back to her as she tilts his head up. “Don’t apologize, mon beau. I like it.” She laughs, warm and bright, “If you couldn’t tell based on my outfit, I love piratey shit.”

His mood is restored with her affirmations, and from now knowing they shared an interest. “No way! Me too! I have a Johnson Mercator Projection map copy and a collection of old pirate coins at home, unfortunately they’re expensive as hell since I try to get authentic ones, so my collection is smaller than I would like it to be.”

“That’s so cool, mon beau! I’d love to see them sometime. Again, if that ain’t too forward of me. I have model ships of the Royal Fortune and Queen Anne’s Revenge, those thing’sre my babies, my prized possessions.” She laughs, remembering something, “And a Lego Pirate Ship that Sparrow got me for my birthday a couple years ago as a joke. Took me a hell of a long time to finish that.”

Jake smiles earnestly, “That isn’t too forward of you, I’d love to show you. On one condition of course.”

She cocks one eyebrow up at him, “And that is?”

“You have to show me your model ships some time.”

“Looks like we got a deal there, mon beau.”

The song changes to something with a strong fiddle intro, Jake thinks he recognizes but can’t quite place it; but Sirena’s eyes light up at the song, a wide grin spreading across her face.

“Oh HELL YEAH! They finally fuckin’ took my song suggestions! Took them long enough”

“I was ridin’ shotgun with my hair undone

In the front seat of his car.

He’s got a one-hand feel on the steering wheel

The other on my heart.”

“What song is this?”

“You don’t know, mon beau? It’s classic Taylor Swift, baby. This is my SHIT!”

Jake smiles wide, “You’re a, what do they call them? Swiftie?”

“Hell yeah, mon beau. Momma loves her some classic Taylor.” She laughs at his expression, “Hey now, don’tcha go judgin’ me.”

He chuckles, “I’m not, I swear. Just didn’t expect that from you.”

“Our song is the way he laughs

The first date, “Man, I didn’t kiss her, and I should have.””

At these words, Jake’s eyes flit down to Sirena’s lips, and he subconsciously starts leaning towards her.

“Wait.”

With these words, he stops, cheeks burning bright red as he stops dancing. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, without asking, I’m sorry.”

Sirena ceases her movements with him, holding onto his arm as he tries to back away out of reach. “No, Jake, please don’t leave.” He stops pulling away from her but is still unable to look her in the face.

“Jake, please look at me.”

He forces himself to look at her, her sympathetic and caring gaze bringing tears to his eyes.

“I didn’t stop you because I don’t wanna kiss you, Jake.”

The lack of her pet name for him causes a tear to escape, slowly rolling down his cheek. He can’t bring himself to wipe it away.

“Oh Jakey, don’t cry.” She brushes her thumbs across his cheeks, wiping away the tears that had started falling for him. “I stopped you because I cannot, in good consciousness, kiss you before I say this. Earlier, you said you were “the only straight brother left”. I’m not a woman, Jake. I need you to recognize that by kissin’ me, and doing whatever happens between us, makes you not straight. I know I’m drop dead gorgeous right now, in drag,” Jake lets out a quiet, wet laugh at this and Sirena is glad her comment got the reaction she had hoped for. “But I don’t look like this all the time, Jake. Now I know we’ve been flirtin’ back and forth all evenin’, but I need to hear it from your mouth. I need to know that you understand the weight of your actions.”

Jake sniffles, roughly wiping away the last of his tears with the back of his hand. “Yeah, I know. I… I’ll be honest with you, I thought I was straight at the beginning of this night but, then I saw you and…” he makes eye contact with her as she patiently listens to his explanation, “…and I thought you were attractive and then we started talking and it just grew from there. I’m having a whole sexuality crisis right now but honestly, I don’t care. All I know is I really like you, and if that makes me queer, then I don’t care.” He pauses, once again overthinking his words. “Not that I don’t care! I care! I just mean it’s not important to me that you’re a man and I’m attracted to you. I… I know what I’m doing, what my actions mean.”

She smiles wide at him, “Don’t worry, mon beau, I know what you mean. Thank you for communicating with me, Jake.”

Her smile lifts a weight off Jake’s shoulders, and he takes a deep breath to calm his still racing mind. “Of course, thank you for stopping me to have this conversation, Sirena.”

“Sebastian.”

“What?”

“My name is Sebastian.”

“Oh,” Jake thinks for a moment, “Sebastian. Well in that case, thank you, Sebastian.”

“Of course, mon beau.”

Jake becomes anxious again as he tries to find the courage to ask what he wanted. “So, uh, Sebastian. Now that we have that cleared up, can I kiss you?”

“Thought you’d never ask, mon beau.”

With that, their lips come together in a slow and gentle kiss. Jake slightly stands on his toes, leaning into Sebastian’s touch, so he doesn’t have to lean down too much to reach him.

Danny and Sam dance a few groups over as the song nears its end. Sam is the first to notice his brother, “Oh shit.”

Danny whips around, his mind immediately thinking that Sam had seen Dallas. “What???”

When he instead sees Jake and Sirena still kissing, his eyebrows shoot up in pleasant surprise. “Oh- You scared me for a minute there, love. I’ve been waiting for them to do that since Jake introduced us to her, it was so clear they were into each other.”

Sam laughs, “Me too honestly. Hey, do you see Josh and Austin anywhere?”

Danny uses his height as an advantage, looking over the crowd to try and see Josh and Austin. He smiles at the sight of his friends with their foreheads pressed together and small smiles on their lips as they sway slowly to the end of the song across the room.

“Yeah, they’re over there, they look like they’re having a good time.”

The intro to a very familiar song starts playing over the speakers, interrupting what Sam was about to say.

“DUM-DE-DE-DUM, DE-DE-DUM-DE-DE-DUM, DE-DAA-DAAAAA

DUM-DE-DE-DUM, DE-DE-DUM-DE-DE-DUM, DE-DAA-DAA-DAA-DAA-DAAAA!

Well, I walk into the room

Passing out hundred dollar bills.

And it kills and it thrills like the horns on my Silverado grill.”

Both boys’ eyes go wide as they stare at the other. “Oh we gotta-“ Sam starts, before being cut off by Danny already flinging them into the flow of the dance.

“Hey, Sammy, you’re better at this than last time! You’re doing great!” Danny says after dancing for about two minutes.

“That was my plan all along, Daniel. Impress you with how good I am at dancing. Is it working?”

Danny snorts, “Yeah, baby, it’s working don’t worry.”

“Perfect.” He makes sure Danny is looking directly at him before continuing, “And don’t think I forgot about your comment you made that night we came here for the first time, Daniel.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I didn’t. I’m a man of my word, Sammy.”

“And the girls say

Save a horse, ride a cowboy.

Everybody says

Save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

Danny dips Sam before taking his (Danny’s) cowboy hat off Sams head and placing it onto his own with a wink.

Sam’s lips part in anticipation from the sudden shift in energy between them.

“Can we go?”

Danny’s brow furrows, worried that he did something wrong. “Right now? Are you ok?”

Sam blushes, “Yeah I just uh, am about to have a problem in my pants that is going to start being… really noticeable if we stay much longer.”

A smirk dances on Danny’s lips as he realizes what Sam meant by that. “Oh- yeah of course. I’ll let the others know that if they need a ride home, they better leave now. My place or yours?”

“Yours. Closer.”

“I see someone’s a bit impatient. Can’t handle the anticipation, can you, Sammy?”

“Shut up or I’m having you take me to my place, you can go back to yours, and I can fix the problem myself.”

“Hmmmmm you wouldn’t. Anyways,” Danny says as he begins making his way towards Josh and Austin, pulling Sam behind him. “C’mon.”

They reach Josh and Austin and Danny taps on his brother’s shoulder to pull his attention away from his partner. He has to almost yell over the music, “Hey, Sam and I are heading out right now, so if you want to stay, you’ll need another ride.”

Josh’s face is immediately painted with concern, “Alright, you guys ok?” His eyes sweep over Sam, noticing the way he was beginning to uncomfortably adjust his jeans. “Oh- never mind I see you guys are more than ok.” He says with a smirk.

Austin inserts himself into the conversation, “I can take Josh home if y’all are needin’ to split.”

“Sounds good, thanks. I’m gonna go let Jake know too.”

“You two have fun.” Josh says with a wink, before Danny turns and pulls Sam towards Jake and Sirena.

Once again, he taps his brother on the shoulder to get his attention. “Hey Jake, Sam and I are heading out. Josh is getting a ride with Austin, so either catch a ride with him or leave now with us.”

Just as his twin had done, he asks “Are you guys ok?”

“Yep, just tired.”

Jake looks towards Sam, also immediately knowing what was going on. “Uh huh, well, get some rest guys.”

“I can give you a ride home if you’d like, mon beau.”

Jake and Danny both smile at Sirena as Sam is too busy staring at his boyfriend in the cowboy hat to respond to her offer to Jake.

“Thanks, Sebastian.” Jake turns to Danny and Sam once more, “See you guys later, have fun and get some rest.”

“Thanks Jake, see ya.” Danny says before turning away, finally pulling Sam towards the exit. Once out the door, its Sam who’s now leading them, pulling Danny along so quickly that he has to speed walk to keep up.

“You’re very eager to get back to my place, I see.”

“Daniel. Shut the fuck up and unlock your car.”

He does so, and Sam practically flings the door open, throwing himself in the passenger seat before Danny can even fully open his door. He gets in and starts his car, turning the radio on to fill the silence in hopes that it would help ease Sam’s clear rush to get back to his place. Unfortunately, Danny’s phone automatically Bluetooth connects, and the song that had been up next in his queue starts playing loudly. The electronic intro snaps Sam out of his focused daze as Danny scrambles for his phone.

“I like the girls that do drugs (Drugs).

Girls with cigarettes in the back of the club (Club).

Girls that hate cops and buy guns (Guns).

Girls with no buns, girls that’s mean just for fun.

I like girls who make love, but I love girls who like to fuck.”

“SHIT- sorry uh that just automatically started-“ Danny stammers as he pauses the song.

“No, no, no. I’d like to hear the rest of this song, Daniel.” Sam says as he snatches Danny’s phone away from him. Danny lets out a defeated sigh, accepting the fact that he would never be able to wrestle it back from him, before putting the car in reverse to pull out of his parking space and start the short drive to his house. Sam hits play and a shit eating grin graces his face as he listens to the lyrics as the song continues.

“I like tall girls, small girls,

Girls with dicks,

Call girls.

Girls who get naked on the ‘Gram.

They say I’m too fuckin’ horny,

Wanna put me in a cage.

I’d probably fuck the hole in the wall

The guy before made.”

“Y’know, I have been mistaken for a tall girl a few times with my hair being as long as it is. And I do have a di-“

Danny cuts him off, “Shut up, shut up, I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I’m not judging you Daniel, it’s a good song. Just, not what I would expect you to listen to.” Sam finishes with a smirk.

Danny rolls his eyes at the other man playfully, attempting to keep an identical smirk off his face. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, Sammy.”

The chorus starts again, and Sam thinks for a moment before asking, “Daniel, have you ever done molly?” out of nowhere.

This causes a sudden laugh to escape Danny, who turns towards his boyfriend while questioning through giggles, “What?”

Sam shrugs in a show of innocence, “Just a question.”

“Uh huh,” Danny turns his attention back to the road, “You know I haven’t.”

“I like the girls who like to lie that they came,

Girls who fuck on the train.

Girls who got so much hair on they ass, it clogs the drain.”

Sam snorts, unable to contain his laughter as Danny begins shaking his head. “Whatever you’re about to say, I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything!” Sam replies through broken laughs.

Danny raises his eyebrows, glad that Sam was too distracted by the song to notice how red his face was, both from embarrassment that the song started playing, and from the anticipation of what would happen when they got back to his place. “Uh huh, right.”

The song ends, leaving them in brief silence before another song starts, a complete 180 from the previous one. Sam notices, the gradual guitar intro twisting his face into amused confusion.

“This is… different than the last one. It sounds familiar.”

Danny chuckles, “Uh yeah, I think this is my “Whiplash” playlist. And it’s the same artist and album as the first song we danced to.”

They sit in comfortable silence listening to the song as Danny quietly hums along. He reaches over and grabs Sam’s hand, interlocking his fingers with his own. He keeps his eyes on the road as he begins to sing along;

“But I must admit it, that I would marry you in an instant.

Damn your wife, I’d be your mistress just to have you around.”

Danny takes his eyes off the road to momentarily glance at Sam, only to be met with his lovesick gaze as he offers a slight squeeze to his hand. Danny returns it, smiling at him before looking back to the road as they turn into his neighborhood. Sam snaps back into his previous mindset, having been too distracted by the tender moment and lyrics Danny had sung to him, as he realizes they had arrived at Danny’s house. The charged energy that had been between them as they left the bar and during the first half of the drive returns suddenly, and both boys quickly get out of the car and make a beeline for the front door.

Once again, as soon as the door is closed and locked behind them, Danny’s hands immediately find their place on Sam’s sides, pulling him into a deep kiss. Danny makes a move to take his hat off before Sam breaks their kiss to stop him.

“Wait. Keep it on. Or at least- wear it while you ride.”

Danny raises his eyebrows, smiling wolfishly. “Whatever you want, baby.”

He takes it off momentarily to take his shirt off, replacing it on his head and reconnecting their lips. They make their way towards Danny’s room as they had many times before, having stripped most of their clothes by the time they reached his bed. Danny breaks away to grab the things they needed for prep in practiced motions, coming back to see that Sam had taken off the rest of his clothes and was waiting in already breathless anticipation while he was away. He pulls his briefs off swiftly and sets the Cowboy hat on the bedside table, quickly joining Sam on the bed, wasting no time as he begins to immediately bite and suck marks into his neck.

“So… I know… I know I’m always… oh fuck, baby-” Sam pants as Danny grinds down onto the other man, nipping at a part of his neck he knew was the most sensitive. He collects himself for a moment before continuing, his words broken from his huffs and heavy breaths. “I know I’m always the one that’s receiving... but oh my god- but I think we’ve done this… enough times that I think- I think I know what I’m doing.” Danny hums an agreement, his lips still attached to Sam’s neck. “But if I do anything… anything wrong or uncomfortable, please- please tell me.”

Danny kisses his way up to Sam’s face, giving him one final kiss on his lips before responding. “I will, I promise love.”

With this having eased all of Sam’s worries and concerns, he grins up at Danny before flipping their positions and finding a spot between his legs as he reaches for the lube. As he had seen Danny do many times before, he coats his fingers liberally before ducking his head down to the inside of his thighs, teasing him with nips and kisses as his middle finger circles Danny’s entrance.

He looks up at Danny through his lashes, making eye contact with him before asking, “Ready baby?”

He offers an eager “Mhm.” as his hips involuntarily grind down on Sam’s fingertip in anticipation.

Sam needs no other confirmation, before he presses his finger into Danny fully, relishing in the way his eyes screw shut in pleasure and his head falls back onto the pillow. He begins pumping his finger in and out in a steady pace, his lips finding the insides of Dannys thighs once more, both actions drawing a whine from him. Sam picks his pace up his pace causing Danny to groan, his hands fisting the sheets at his side.

“You ready for another, love?”

“Fuck- please yes, Sammy.”

Sam’s ring finger joins his middle on the next thrust in, the action followed by a breathy moan as Danny’s back arches off the bed. Sam savors each sound he makes and expression that passes across his face as he pumps and scissors his fingers in and out of the other man. Sam brings his lips to Danny’s stomach, peppering kisses across it as he brings his fingers together, curling them at the knuckles in hopes of finding the spot that Danny was so good at finding in Sam. After a few seconds, his attempts are fruitful as he feels Danny’s abdominal muscles flex as a string of curses and praise flood from his lips.

“OH SHIT- Fuck, Sammy baby, right there, keep going, FUCK, oh shit-“ Sam smiles against Danny’s stomach, continuing his movements inside Danny.

“Fuck- baby I’m so close- shit- I don’t- I don’t know how much longer I can last, love.” Danny groans.

“Want another or are you prepped enough?” Sam says against his stomach, his breath sending a shiver down Danny’s spine.

“I’m ready- I’m ready, baby.” Danny repeats. Sam removes his fingers, allowing Danny a second to catch his breath as he cleans off his hands and rips the condom wrapper open. As soon as he finishes putting it on, Danny pushes Sam down onto the bed, having grabbed the cowboy hat while Sam was distracted and replacing it on his head as he straddles him. Sam sits up, running his hands up Danny’s thighs, coming to a stop on his sides as he gazes up at the other man.

Sam checks in with Danny, “Still doing ok, love?”

Danny grins down at him, replying, “Couldn’t be more ok, Sammy.” before lining Sam up at his entrance and sinking down on his cock in one swift motion.

Both boys moan, their foreheads coming together as they pant, adjusting to the feeling of each other. Danny’s the first to move, bringing his hands to Sam’s shoulders as he lifts himself almost completely off of Sam, before bringing his body back down again. He continues his motions, quickening his pace as their breaths become erratic once more, interrupted by various moans and whines. Danny’s lips find Sam’s as he continues to ride him, their kisses messy and eager as they both head towards their climaxes. Sam’s right hand, still slightly slick with left over lube, moves to wrap around Danny’s cock, sliding up and down when he finds it. Danny moans into Sam’s mouth, biting down on his lower lip from the sudden added pleasure.

Despite the pain from the bite deliciously mixing with his pleasure, Sam tears his mouth away from Danny to gasp, “Fuck, baby I’m so close-“

Danny thrusts into Sam’s hand, changing his motions on Sam’s dick to grind against him, taking him deeper. “Cum for me baby. Fill me up.”

His words send Sam over the edge, his head falling forward as he moans, his left-hand gripping Danny’s hip with the other slightly squeezing Danny’s dick as he fills the condom inside him.

“Ah- shit-“ The added pressure sends Danny over the edge with him, his release coating Sam’s stomach as his nails dig into his shoulders.

They both ride their climaxes out, breathless as they come down from it. Danny lifts himself off of Sam, collapsing on his side next to the other man, his hat falling off his head and rolling onto the ground. Sam removes his condom, throwing it into the trash next to the bed and cleans his hand and stomach off with the still wet washcloth. He turns to Danny, still catching his breath as he lay on the bed and wipes the small amount of cum left leaking from the head of Danny’s dick off with the other side of the washcloth. Danny sucks in a sharp breath at the contact, overstimulated from his orgasm.

“Sorry love.” Sam says as he tosses the washcloth across the room in the direction of Danny’s laundry hamper before helping him under the covers, following suit soon after.

“S’ok. Thanks for handling the aftercare.”

Sam turns the bedside light off and leans down, kissing Danny’s forehead before pulling him close, wrapping his arms around his abdomen and tangling his legs with his own. “Of course, baby. You always take such good care of me after, it’s time I return that favor.”

Danny laughs lightly against Sam’s chest, already falling asleep from exhaustion as he nestles his face into the crook of Sam’s neck.

“Maybe I should do the riding more often.” He mumbles into Sam’s skin.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that, Daniel.” Sam replies, quickly realizing his comment had fallen on deaf ears as Danny lightly snores, already asleep.

Sam buries his face in Danny’s hair, giving him one final gentle squeeze as he holds him, before joining his boyfriend in a deep, calm slumber.

————————————————————————

A/N: The bar that Bradley’s Honky Tonk is based off of is an actual bar in Nashville called Layla’s Honky Tonk, which I realized while writing this part that it is right across from Bridgestone Arena where Greta performed their first show of Starcatcher at.

All the songs mentioned, in chronological order:

Fancy- Reba McEntire

Cotton-Eye Joe- Rednex

Plastic Jesus- Tia Blake

Ophelia- The Lumineers

A Bank Robber’s Nursery Rhyme- Goodnight, Texas

Our Song- Taylor Swift

Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)- Big & Rich

Girls- The Dare

Cleopatra- The Lumineers

Thanks again for reading :)

[holdingup-fallingsky]

Sammy “The Kid” Kiszka