#rodeo emt ken lemmons

[bucking-mustangs-with-wings]

Heart of Gold (5 Times Gale's Heart Gives Out And +1 time Ken's Does) Barbed Wire Hearts Universe - Chapter One

God I can't believe I can finally publish this after so many problems preventing me from both writing and editing it, it feels like it's been too long! But here's the next instalment in the BWH universe. Only one chapter written and edited so far, but I'll be updating when I can with more. This is to add some much needed little details and lore for upcoming plot fics in this series.

For now though, enjoy! This chapter is only a short one, just to give the general start to the fic, but following chapters will be a little bit longer as the story continues (and don't worry, the big plot fics will be longer as always haha)

@swifty-fox @onyxsboxes @stoneinyourshoe @carnevol @trashbag-baby666 @slowsweetlove

Ken stared at the little box that Curt was brandishing in front of himself with a raised brow, taking in the self-satisfied smirk behind still fading clown paint from the day before on the other man’s face. He let the exasperated sigh escape him from where it had been building since Curt first showed him the box.

“You can’t be serious, Curt.” 

Curt wiggled the box at him, the item inside rattling gently in response as Curt’s smirk grew. “Oh I’m deadly serious,”

Ken eyed him, judgment clearly written across his own expression as he snatched the box from Curt’s fingers. He looked down at the box, eyes scanning over the words with another sigh, albeit gentler than the one before. 

“You’re gonna give Gale a Fitbit, because you wanna, and I quote ��record the uptight bastard’s stress and heart rate because it would be funny’?”

Curt shrugged nonchalantly, reaching out and plucking the box from Ken’s fingers with the tip of his tongue caught between his front teeth.

“Yes. I think you’re missing the whole point here, Kenny. Have you seen the guy? Man is one big walking ball of stress, especially around Bucky and his bullshit, and all he says is that he’s ‘fine’.”

“So you just wanna prove him wrong so that you have something to brag about, basically?”

Ken raises one eyebrow at Curt and watches as the other gapes slightly, expression turning chastised but no less mischievous underneath Ken’s scrutiny. A hand comes up to scratch at the back of his neck.

“Basically,” Curt affirms, looking slightly sheepish, and Ken can’t help the knowing smile that curves his lips. 

“Uh-huh,” Ken hums. He stares down at the box again where Curt is starting to peel the edges of the tape holding it closed with the edge of his fingernail. 

Curt pauses and glances up at Ken through his lashes, scanning over Ken’s face before his shoulders sag and he rolls his eyes.

“Look, I’m not trying to be a dick. Call it genuine curiosity and slight worry for the sake of one of my best friends and his well-being.”

“With bragging rights,” Ken tacks on with his own answering eye roll.

Curt laughs, goes back to picking at the tape again with a wide grin. “Exactly! See? Now we’re getting on the same page here, Kenny my boy.”

Ken breathes out through his nostrils, watching Curt work away at the tape until he flicks the opening flap upwards and starts to extract the packaging holding the little black watch from its confines.

Curt holds it up, like a prize dangling from his thumb and pointer and looks at Ken with no less pride on his face. “You can even hook it up to your work phone so you have 24/7 access to Gale’s heart rate. Just in case there ever is actually cause for concern. It’s got a little alarm setting and everything.”

He waggles the device towards Ken’s face, eyebrows rising and falling in a suggestive gesture until Ken once again snatches it from Curt’s hold.

The little watch is cool in his palm, and he turns it over to observe it before glancing up at Curt again, lips pursed.

As much as Ken wouldn’t put name or face to it, he couldn’t deny that there had been a few times through the course of getting to know the men in their circuit that he had observed and noticed that Gale, in particular, had a bit more weight sitting on his shoulders in comparison to most of the others. 

When he had first met the blond cowboy, all done up in his roping get-up with his stoic steel-hard expression and sizeable buckle sitting on his belt, Ken could admit that even though he wasn’t a competitor himself, that he couldn’t help but be a little bit intimidated by the air that Gale often exuded. Especially when in competition mode.

Despite only being a rodeo EMT, it was hard to come by anyone involved in the circuit that hadn’t at least heard of the great Gale Cleven and his achievements in the arena. Coupled with the known talk that the guy was ‘all work and no play’ and advice of ‘just don’t get in his way and you won’t have to worry’, Ken had truthfully dreaded the day that he would have to meet the man and have him under his jurisdiction of care and medical expertise. 

The day he had met him, Ken felt like the world was trying to swallow him whole as he was faced with meeting most of the crew that he would be looking out for and tending to if any of them sustained injuries in the arena. He had shaken hands and introduced himself a number of times, friendly smiles and warmth being directed at him as easy as breathing before the group had all but parted in the tail end of their greetings and Ken was faced with Gale.

The blond cowboy had walked up to Ken with his shoulders straight, blue eyes questioning while also exuding an air of careful scrutinization as he’d looked Ken up and down, and Ken had felt like he was about to be snapped up like a bird between the jaws of a cat and crushed between sharper than needle fangs. 

He’d stared at Gale, not game enough to break eye contact as the other thrusted his hand out in Ken’s direction, still adorned with worn but expensive looking brown leather gloves. The strength and power behind Gale’s grip alone once he’d taken his hand in to a firm handshake was enough to have him shivering in his sneakers. 

But as Gale had introduced himself, Ken had watched as a slight look of warm fondness had broken through Gale’s expression, lips curving upwards in to a perfect smile full of straight white teeth directed at him, and felt his shoulders relax from their timid posture.

“Welcome to the crew, Ken,” Gale had said to him, words soft and sweet and dripping with unintentional charm. “Heard you’re one of the best we could possibly ask for. You might have your work cut out for you though, with this band of hooligans.”

Ken couldn’t help the smile that had slowly crept its way on to his own face in answer to Gale’s obvious attempt at easing his nerves, and he had felt his shoulders sag as Gale had dropped his hand, but feeling no less welcome. 

It was from that point forward that a sort of easy friendship had blossomed between Gale and himself, the terrifying tales of strict and hard-faced Gale Cleven all but melting away in his mind until any time he heard Gale’s name whispered with unease from the mouths of any of the other competitors from different circuit teams made him smirk knowingly. 

The guy was all bark and no bite, as far as Ken was concerned. At least when it was towards his own team, and he had come to realize that whenever Gale would be the first one to comfort or build up the confidence of the other boys without a second thought. 

It was all a structured hierarchy, and Gale had been appointed the unquestioned leader of the group and the overseer to most of the happenings and organizing both between and during the rodeos that they travelled to and from over the course of the season.  

It was with that unsanctioned leadership, though, that Ken could also see the immense strain heaped up on top of the cowboy’s shoulders in the thick of it all. And he would be unhesitant to admit that there had been a few times that he had observed Gale in the quieter moments where the weariness and need to keep on a brave noble façade was obviously eating away at him. 

Especially once Ken realized that the group’s main bull rider John Bucky Egan was more than just a friend to Gale, and every time the man went in to that arena and sat on one of those great muscled animals, Gale turned a few shades whiter every time Bucky’s dismounts were a little less than graceful. 

Ken had also noticed, through several different interactions both with himself and with other members of the group, that as much as Gale would unthinkingly dole out support and softness and strength, that when it came to himself, it was a completely different story.

He had noticed on more than one occasion the cowboy shying away from support directed at him, waved it off with a strained smile or an off handed comment that left Ken with a sour taste on his tongue and a worry settling in deep in his bones like a festering flame. 

As much as Gale gave it, receiving it was a whole other ball game, and was met with such a conditioned resistance that Kenny often wondered what was laying in wait underneath Gale’s carefully composed surface. What scars were carefully concealed under a strong expression.

He was thankful for John in those moments, seeing Gale respond to Bucky’s carefully extended supports more than anyone else, but even then it was barely a sliver of open acceptance to the gentle touch, cards still close to his chest and roped back against him and away from prying eyes.

Ken looked back up to where Curt was still standing in front of him, now holding out the charger for the Fitbit and Ken’s work phone that had been sitting on the counter being waggled in his direction underneath an imploring look. 

He stared at it for a few seconds, mind running through all the pros and cons and the precarious thought of ‘what could possibly go wrong’ cycling through his head, and let his shoulders sag with an exasperated sigh. He tried to ignore the gleaming smile Curt shot him as he took the charger and phone from his hand. 

“Fine,” Ken gave in, switching on the phone and opening up the app store to download the accompanying app that would sync with the watch. “But I’m doing this purely for Gale’s well-being, and to give myself some piece of mind.”

Curt laughed, a smug but joyous lilt to its tone as he walked up to Ken and patted his shoulder. “Yeah you keep telling yourself that, Kenny.”

Ken rolled his eyes, a small smile working its way on to his lips as Curt pressed a loud smacking kiss against his cheek as the other made his way to the door of the trailer, swinging it open and stepping out to leave Ken to hooking up the devices. 

“You’ve still got paint on your face, by the way!” Ken called out behind him as an afterthought before looking back down at his phone. 

He could hear Curt’s laugh echo back to him from a small ways away outside. 

“All part of the charm, baby!”

–

Surprisingly, Gale had accepted the watch from Ken without so much as a second thought, albeit a small look of question directed at him as the watch was passed into his hands. He had turned it over in quiet observance a few times, lips pursed and brows furrowed before he’d carefully pulled back the sleeve of his shirt and fastened it to the surprisingly delicate circle of his left wrist.

Ken couldn’t help the way it lifted a nervous air from his body and mind at Gale so trustingly taking the watch paired with Ken’s words of professional reassurance, and had to remind himself that as much as Curt had palmed the whole endeavour off with the pretense of it being a joke, it also gave Ken some peace of mind to now have a bit more of an insight into the medical signs of one of the most important cowboys in the team. 

He also couldn’t deny that Curt’s curiosity had bled into him as well in the face of the act.

“Can’t say I ever really put much thought in to actually using one of these things,” Gale confessed to him, eyes still curious as he looked down at the face of the watch with interest. The time flashed back at him as he turned his wrist, experimenting with the movement of it a few times. 

Tapping the face of it, the small screen cycled through his steps, distance travelled, energy burned, and finally the rate of his heart, which Ken couldn’t help but notice was currently sitting at a steady 89 as they spoke.

“You can thank Curt for that,” Ken chuckled, pointedly and casually adding in Curt as the culprit as well so he wasn’t the only one being thrown under the bus. “He figured it’d be a good idea to keep an eye on you fellas, your health and what-not seeing as how you’re all meant to be tip top athletes. And you’re one of the only ones who doesn’t actually have one.”

Gale looked up at him, a knowing smirk on the blonde's lips as he quirked one brow. “You mean Curt’s morbidly curious and just wanted something to brag about to John when I blow my top at him.”

Ken couldn’t help but laugh at Gale’s words, the sound punched out of him in surprise as Gale hazarded the guess and got it as close as he possibly could. He had had a feeling long before he’d even set up the watch that Buck would be clued in to exactly what was happening, especially once Ken name dropped Curt in the scheme. 

“It’s alright Ken,” Gale assured him, smile still colouring his face as he winked. “I won’t let him know I’m on to him if you don’t.”

“Sweet,” Ken grinned, holding out a fist towards Gale in a silent ask for a fist bump which the cowboy gladly reciprocated without a second thought. 

Gale gave another small look down at the watch as he let his hand fall back to his side, carefully pushing his sleeve down over it as it went to hide the little device from view.

“I’m actually a little curious myself,” Gale added on as an afterthought. “Might actually come in handy.”

Kenny nodded, casting his gaze over his shoulder towards the arena where Brady and Rosie were currently trotting their horses around in circles around a fake practice rig shaped like a steer. He could hear them laughing good-naturedly as they threw their ropes over it, joking amongst each other in friendly competition as Brady missed and Rosie whooped in triumph, arms coming up high in celebration. 

Jack, Benny and Everett were perched up on the rails watching with smiles on their faces and chatting amongst themselves, Meatball at their feet chasing something in a patch of tall grass against one of the posts. 

Ken pointed his chin in their direction. “This lot seems in a good mood today.”

Gale looked up to where Ken’s gaze was directed, and Ken couldn’t help but note the small fond smile that slipped on to Gale’s expression. Likened it to that of a proud parent looking at their unruly bunch of teenagers.

“Yeah it’s a lazy day today. Figured with more than a week until the next rodeo I’d back off and let them have their fun. Don’t need me breathing down their necks 24/7.”

Ken looked back at Gale with a questioning expression that he hoped Gale didn’t notice. Underneath the pride, Ken could sense a sudden hint of doubt mixed in Buck’s words, smile still evident but more muted as he stared over at the others. His blue eyes were slightly distant, and Ken felt his chest constrict just a little at the sight.

“I’m sure they’ll need your instruction sooner or later with how that’s going,” Ken tried, grinning as he turned to watch Brady expertly lasso Rosie around the middle with the other cowboy’s laughing squawk of offense. Brady’s replying laughter reached them seconds later with a shouted insult barely audible, and Ken could see the fond smile return to Buck’s expression. 

Buck rested his hands against his hips with a gentle sigh, smiling up at Ken before dropping his eyes towards the ground. “Yep, yeah, I’d say you’re right.”

Ken saw a suddenly questioning frown pull at Buck’s brow as the other looked back up towards the arena, eyes scanning over the expanse of it, the stands behind and then flickering around. “Speaking of, you seen Curt or Bucky anywhere since earlier?”

Ken felt his eyes slightly widen in realization as Buck’s words sank in and a pit of innocent fear started to curl its way in to his gut. 

“I can’t say I have, and I don’t know how I should be feeling about that,” Ken confessed to him with a grimace.

Buck blew out an exasperated breath, shoulders squaring as he tipped his hat at Ken with a smile before making his way past him. “Terrified, would be the correct term, I reckon.”

Ken couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him at Buck’s words as he watched the blond walk casually over to the others. 

–

The sounds of the crowd spectating the rodeo from a small distance away reached Kenny as he took a long drag of his cigarette, smoke curling its way out in to the air on his exhale in a wispy array of patterns before disappearing into nothing. He adjusted his seat on the step at the back of the med van, the back doors open to reveal the sterile and organized inside, medical equipment stored carefully and tucked away ready at a moments notice if needed while the current rodeo was in full swing. 

This one had been going on without so much as a hitch so far, which Ken and a few of the other EMTs were thankful for, leaving them meandering around outside the van without much to do to occupy their time besides talking amongst themselves or scrolling on their phones to pass the time. 

They knew at some point they’d probably need to patch up a knee or do the mandatory check over for concussions or other types of damage, but they were taking the peace while they could and being lax in the moments they were afforded. 

It left some room for a tiny hint of boredom to thread its way through, but Ken would rather feel that unconcerned drag of time over doing vital signs on a bull rider that got too big for his chaps or be knitting together another cowboy’s split open brow while trying to stem blood flow with a stern hand and hint of exasperation. 

The audience noise crescendoed in to a flurry of whoops and hollers by a few octaves, but being where he was Ken couldn’t quite see what event was currently happening around the edges of the towering bleacher seats. It was only still halfway through the rodeo so he knew that nothing truly spectacular was happening at this point, and he was content to sit, sneaker propped up on the tow-ball of the van and scroll for a few moments on his socials while sucking down the last few dregs of what he guessed was his third cigarette of the day. 

Thought on the disapproving glance that Curt would be sending his way if the other wasn’t currently out behind the bull chutes painted to the nines in clown makeup and baggy shorts and suspenders waiting to run in and save the day once the bull riders were performing.

Also thought on the way the other would tut in disgust but still pluck the still burning cigarette from his fingers before stealing a drag in the face of Ken’s knowing smirk. 

Almost too lost in the depths of his thoughts as he brought the cigarette up towards his lips for another inhale, Ken couldn’t help the way he jumped, startled and nearly losing grip on the burning stick as a sudden continuous beeping blared at him from the pocket of his jacket.

Frowning, he propped the cigarette in between his lips and reached down to clumsily fish what he realized was his work phone from the deep pocket and pull it out. 

It was only when the bright words of warning that the current connected device was picking up irregular rhythms did he also manage to look up in time to see Buck, pale faced and looking a little worse for wear stumbling from somewhere over towards the camp grounds in the distance before leaning one shaking arm up against a telegraph pole.

Distress was obvious in the tense line of the cowboy’s shoulders, shuddering on a deep inhale and face pointed towards the dirt with tightly squeezed eyes, and Ken quickly stubbed out his cigarette in to the grass by his shoe and flicked it away as he half rose, alert.

“Buck! You okay, man?” Ken called out, worry tainting the tone of his voice, hand that was holding the still beeping work phone tightening until he could feel the plastic creak underneath his grip.

He kept his eyes trained on Buck’s figure, worry seeping even further in to his awareness when the other only managed a haphazard glance in Ken’s direction, a gloved hand waving out in dismissal before he turned his eyes back to the ground at his feet, arm falling back against his side.

With a groan of effort, Ken hoisted himself up off of the step of the med van and started in Gale’s direction with purpose. He turned off the work phone, silencing the noise and shoving the device back in to his pocket without a second thought. 

The closer he got to Buck, the more he could hear the ragged exhales the blond was attempting to get under control and see the trembling shudder wracking the other’s taut shoulders.

Ken reached up one hand, resting his palm on Gale’s shoulder and leaning down to try and catch Gale’s line of sight where it was currently still trained downwards, brows furrowed in obvious distress.

“Talk to me, buddy. What’s happening here?” 

The professionalism that bled into Ken’s voice in the situation finally reached through to Buck, blue eyes glancing up to Ken’s face with a blank look that morphed into a humourless smile for a second or two before falling again. 

“‘m fine, Kenny,” Gale huffed, shoulder trembling more violently underneath Ken’s hold for a fleeting moment. “Don’t gotta get all serious on me, now.”

Ken chuffed out a laugh, a bit disbelieving as his eyes raked over Gale’s shaken form. “You sure? Because from where I’m standing your words aren’t exactly hitting home for me, Chief.” 

Gale flicked a dismissive hand in his direction again, body straightening marginally like he was trying to put Ken’s mind at a little bit more ease if he showed less weakness. It made Ken frown in reply, the minute beeping originating from underneath the cuff of Gale’s shirt where he knew the watch would be reaching his ears amidst the ambient sounds of the rodeo around them.

Gale sniffed, eyes flickering towards Ken again in what he could only name as chastised. 

“Was wondering though,” Gale started, tilting his chin towards his sleeve as he brought up his other hand to pull it back and reveal the Fitbit. “That ain’t normal, yeah?”

Ken gave Buck an exasperated look before turning his attention to the face of the watch, and felt his eyes widen marginally but managed to conceal the sudden unease in his expression so that Gale wouldn’t pick up on it.

Knew he had failed when Gale shot him a frown with accompanying worry reflected in his own eyes.

“I’m guessing no,” Gale grinned, forced and fake as he swallowed underneath the scrutiny of Ken’s expression. 

“No, not so much, man.” Ken answered, simple and direct. He adjusted where his hand was on Gale’s arm, moving it more up underneath in a concealed attempt at support as he tugged slightly. He was still very aware of the shudders wracking through Gale’s frame, the beads of sweat sitting on the cowboy’s upper lip and across his brow underneath the brim of his hat on an ashen pallor. “Why don’t you just come over to the van with me and I’ll give you a quick look over, yeah?”

Gale shot him an unreadable look, but allowed himself to be guided back to the open back of the med van thankfully only a short distance away. 

Ken helped lower him down so that the blond was occupying the seat against the low step that Ken was only on a few moments before, movements a little bit stiff and uncomfortable and made sure that Gale was comfortable before he stepped up in to the van. 

He glanced back at Gale’s figure, reaching out and getting the vitals pack hooked up on the far wall and snatching the blood pressure cuff off of the built in bench as he turned.

Jumping back down onto the hard packed dirt, Ken knelt down in front of Gale who was still looking pale but not as frantic as the younger man started retrieving different equipment from the bag that he sat in front of him.  

Gale eyed everything speculatively with that ever present frown still evident on his face. “I’m fine, Ken. Really.” 

Ken glanced up at him with a strained smile as he pulled the velcro of the blood pressure cuff apart with a stark ripping sound, reaching up to secure it around Gale’s upper right arm with perfect and practised precision. 

“Just taking precautions.” Ken assured him. He started manually pumping the small decompressor attached to the cuff. He unlooped the stethoscope from where it was draped over the back of his neck and lifted Gale’s sleeve up enough to be able to press the cool metal against his inner elbow gently. “Alarm went off for a reason, Buck.”

Gale rolled his eyes at Ken good-naturedly, but Ken could see the hint of worry reflected in the blonde's eyes as he flickered his gaze down to where Ken was listening to the thrum of his blood underneath his skin, wincing at the tight restriction of the cuff around his bicep. 

“Dumb is what it is, I don’t even feel that bad any more.” Gale grumbled. 

A few moments of silence went by as Ken listened intently to Gale’s pulse, holding his breath but allowing it to pass back out in a gentle exhale as everything seemed to be normal at least as far as blood pressure went. 

Pulling the stethoscope away from Gale’s skin, he rolled the cowboy’s sleeve back down to cover cool but clammy skin and ripped off the cuff from further up. “Yes, well, as true as that may be right now, I just want to check you over in case. False alarm or not. I don’t particularly feel like having to explain to Bucky why you keeled over dead from a heart attack on my watch.”

Gale let an amused snort escape him at Ken’s words, lips curving up into the semblance of a smile as he kept his focus on Ken’s rummaging around in the med bag below. 

“Point taken,” Gale mumbled, and Ken felt his own lips quirk up in reply. 

The next few tests went by without so much as a suspicious blip or reading, and as much as Ken was confused, he was also incredibly relieved that Gale didn’t seem to be suffering from anything life threatening. As a small after thought, he reached out and gripped Gale’s wrist wearing the watch gently and turned the face of it towards himself, eyes scanning over the lit up surface and feeling satisfied when no warnings or alerts glared back at him. The heartrate had also gone back to a steady pace, and he let Gale’s hand drop with a sigh.

“Well, whatever was happening, you seem to be fine now,” Ken informed him. He looked up in to Gale’s face from where he was still crouched in front of the other, taking in the now more normal looking complexion and clear blue eyes staring back at him in curiosity and their own brand of confusion. “It might have been just a false alarm.”

Gale sighed, peeking down at the watch hidden back underneath the sleeve of his shirt with a blank look, posture relaxing that small increment more so he was slouched in a lazy lean, an elbow propped up against his knee.

“Fat lot of good a false alarm is,” Gale grinned. One of his hands came up to wipe the remaining perspiration still sitting against the ridge of his brow underneath the rim of his hat. That same hand then rose up to point an unthreatening finger in Ken’s direction, a mock expression of seriousness moulding on to his features. “But not a word of this is to be spoken to Bucky, under any circumstances.”

Ken chuckled, pushing himself up to stand and wincing at the ache that accompanied the movement from being crouched down in the same position for so long. He stretched out his back with a groan. “For once, I do agree with that statement.”

Gale looked affronted, mouth gaping slightly as Ken’s words but Ken could see the humour reflected there. “For once?”

Ken raised his hands in mock surrender, feeling something in his chest warm at the sight of Gale’s barely concealed amusement as he reached out a hand in Ken’s direction for help. Ken gladly accepted, gripping the other cowboy’s hand and pulling him easily to his feet until the other was standing tall and firm in front of him. The other did sway slightly, and Ken held out a hand in concealed readiness in case he needed to keep the other balanced, but in a blink any tilting had disappeared.  

The sounds of the rodeo pierced back in to both men’s awareness, and Ken watched as Gale’s focus turned out towards the arena with a sharp turn of his head, the small smile that was there slowly slipping back into something that Ken couldn’t quite put his finger on. He allowed his own gaze to wander over in the same direction as Gale’s before pursing his lips and glancing back towards Gale’s face. The other looked lost in thought, blue eyes far away amongst whatever was running amongst his thoughts as the sound of cheering echoed across the grounds in a muted distant roar. 

Licking his lips, Ken hesitated for a few seconds before parting his lips and letting the words that were sitting on his tongue escape in to a more simple question than the true ones he had. 

“You sure you’re okay, Buck?” 

Gale seemed to come back to the present at Ken’s words, face whipping back to look at Ken with a blank numb expression before his lips pulled up in to a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Though they were soft as they looked at the younger man.

He reached up and let his hand fall in a friendly comfort against Ken’s shoulder, patting it twice before allowing his arm to fall. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. You don’t gotta worry, Kenny, promise.”

Ken let himself smile back in reply to Gale’s words, but he knew that it didn’t quite reach his own eyes either as the image of Gale only a small time before all but hyperventilating and looking moments from death leaned up against that telegraph pole flashed through his mind in vivid technicolor. He could almost hear the ghost of the beeping of his work phone buzz behind his ears. 

He almost asked again, taking in the way that Gale had suddenly started gnawing at his bottom lip between perfect white teeth until the plush skin was red and looked moments from breaking apart underneath the ministrations, but something squeezed in his ribcage and he swallowed the words down. 

[bucking-mustangs-with-wings]

GREENER THAN WYOMING - Clegan (Barbed Wire Hearts AU series) fic

Posted here on ao3

Part 5 in my BWH buck x bucky series, again wrote in a day and a half coz god I needed this installment so bad, I had so much fun writing this. Hope you guys love this one as much as I loved writing it!

Didn't realise I wrote 12k+ words for this. Oops

BE WARNED: there is slight smut in this one :p

@swifty-fox @trashbag-baby666 @moghraidhs (if you want to be added to the tag list when i add more posts about this story, let me know!)

There's still sand and grit stuck to the side of his face when Bucky makes his way through the back of the bull chutes into the direction of the announcer's box, sweat making the fine granules plaster themselves to his skin and get stuck to the damp ends of the dark curls falling messily across his forehead.

He can feel also the sand that had gotten lodged in between his vest and shirt, some of it having fallen in against the skin of his ribs, but nothing he hadn't felt before. It came with the territory, and he couldn't help but feel the adrenaline still ebbing and waning in amongst his limbs and muscles like a familiar friend.

Despite it only having been a practice run before the current rodeo they were preparing for at the end of the week, it was still a good run. The fact that he'd half face planted into the dirt on his attempted dismount from the practice bull was only schematics. Easily brushed off in the grand scheme of things.

Sometimes he managed to land unsteadily on his feet, other times he got a little bit flung or the dismount was a little less graceful than he would have liked. But no one really batted an eye at it. All the other boys were used to it themselves so it was just another day at the office.

As he turns the corner building, absentmindedly bringing his hand up to brush some of the dirt away from his nose with a sniffle, Bucky can't help the way his heart picks up its still already racing tempo when he zeroes in on the familiar line of Buck's back standing just outside the door of the sponsor's office.

The other cowboy has his back to him, blond hair flicking up at the back from underneath his signature black hat, arms folded across his chest, making his shoulders that were only marginally slighter than Bucky's own seem wider as he talked calmly to whoever was standing in front of him. The white Wrangler logo stitched across the expanse stretched out slightly on his black button down he had worn that day.

Letting his eyes linger on the other man's form, a few seconds longer on the shape of him in the well fitted blue jeans, John made his way closer until he was standing at Buck's side. He brought his hands up to rest against his own hips, shifting his weight between his feet and realised it was Chick that Buck was currently locked in conversation with.

The older man glanced at Bucky with a smile and tip of his hat, a silent acknowledgement between them before focusing back on Buck with barely so much as a pause in the conversation.

"Really think he'd be a good fit for you, Buck. He's been in the circuit down in Kentucky for a couple years now. Still a little bit of the amateur class but he's looking to rise up and play with some of the big boys,"

Bucky only took half interest in what Chick was saying, still hearing the rush of sound behind his own ears and the ebb of adrenaline start to fade to the point that his body was sinking into that familiar lazy afterglow. Could feel his left knee wobble a little bit under his weight.

"What are we talkin' about?" Bucky asked offhandedly, looking between Buck and Chick in question.

Buck turned his face in his direction slightly, bringing him into their conversation as easily as a shift in his shoulders.

"Chick was just-" Buck paused momentarily, a hitch in the flow of his words when he looked at Bucky's face, a frown knitting his brow as he reached up and absentmindedly brushed away some sand off of Bucky's eyebrow and forehead in one flick before resuming what he was saying like he hadn't even stopped.

"Chick was telling me about some of the new boys he was thinking of adding to our circuit. Some new ropers this time too, and he was asking if I'd be interested in taking one or two under my wing for a bit. Test drive 'em and see if they can hold some mick up to the rest of us."

"That so?" Bucky smiled, looking down at Buck and the blank expression on his face, like always. But he could see the excited spark behind his eyes, the telltale clink of a spur being toed at with the other boot down below them.

He had to stamp down the sudden need to reach out to curve one hand over the blond's hip and pull him closer into his side.

Chick chuckled, a deep and amused sound as he nodded at Bucky from underneath the brim of his cap. "Figured our Buck, here, would be better than any to put them through their paces. And we got just under a week to see if they'll make a good fit."

"I'd be more than happy to," Buck grinned, aiming the last half of that smile towards John. "Got some new bull riders wanting to start too."

Bucky raised a brow in question, his own teeth glinting in a smile as he looked at Chick. A hound being sicked on the trail.

"Oh, fresh meat?" he drawled playfully. It earned him a barely felt side kick to the ankle from Buck, that only served to make him smile wider. "I'm kidding! But also, not really."

Chick laughed at him, shaking his head slightly in the way of a father being exasperated by the antics of an unruly son.

"As green as they come." Chick told him. "Couple of boys from the Juniors who just turned 18 and wanna come sit the big dogs."

Bucky nodded, thinking on back when he was that age and first sat on the back of one of the proper bulls, all 1500 pounds of muscle and agile rage between his thighs. Thought of the way he shook like a leaf for a good hour once he had his feet back firmly on the ground, but an adrenaline fuelled smile that he couldn't wipe off his face.

He hadn't stuck that day, being tossed within a mere 2.4 seconds, but it slotted something in to place for him and confirmed then and there that there was nothing else he would rather do from that point forward.

His only thought was when he would do it again, already chomping at the bit like a little kid wanting to take another go on the roller-coaster at the county fair.

"I'll look after 'em," Bucky told him, smile turning a bit softer. "Don't you worry that big head of yours, Chick."

Chick eyed him and hummed with a smirk, slightly disbelieving but fond.

"Im sure, I'm sure." He turned his amused gaze back to Buck, an air of seriousness now amongst the familiar comraderie. "The new ropers are due to roll in tomorrow, I got the word that they were headed out yesterday, so they should be here by mid morning. Mid day at the latest."

"The guy you were telling me about, Rosenthal," Buck questioned. "You say he was a heeler?"

Chick nodded. "Heeler and Header. He's whatever you need him to be, Buck. Guy near had a coronary on the phone once I told him I was handing him off to you to take care of."

Bucky didn't miss the slight colour that rose to Buck's cheeks at Chick's words, blue eyes lowering in his usual gesture of bashfulness at any praise or hint of reverence that came with his name.

It was something that Bucky would never cease to feel absolute endearment towards the other man for, and he couldn't help the way his heart stuttered every time he saw it. Like Buck still couldn't believe he was a revered and well know name amongst the rodeo and its fans and competitors alike. And it only served to make Bucky fall harder and harder each and every day, the humble nature burying itself deep down in his soul.

"I'll make sure to have Ken on stand-by, then." Buck muttered, and Bucky couldn't help the laugh Buck's words pulled from his chest.

Chick looked between the two men with a small smile, an air of pride obvious in the way he straightened his posture with a small nod. "I'm counting on you two. Now go on, get outta here. I've got paperwork to settle and I'm sure you've got somewhere important to be, shit to get ready."

He eyed Bucky up and down, head to toe, taking in the still sweat slick hair and sand and dirt that was covering one side of him like an overgrown half-sugared donut, smile feigning innocence.

"And a shower." He tacked on as a last minute thought.

Bucky threw Chick a lazy salute in reply, grinning as the other man turned and wandered back into the office muttering under his breath.

He turned to look at Buck, plastering on a wide innocent smile. The blond could only look at him in exasperation, but the small smirk Bucky spotted underneath the black brim of Gale's hat took any serious bite out of it.

--

Just like Chick had promised, the new crew rolled in around 11am the next morning, a train of brand new Chevy pickups dragging along new and old goosenecks and trailers through the grounds to park in a polite and organised manner amongst the others across the camp ground.

John watched from afar, seated in a fold out chair lazily underneath the awning of Buck's trailer with Curt and Crosby while half a dozen unfamiliar faces filtered out of the trucks. Some boisterous and brash, loud young men who were obviously the greenest of the bunch, while two or three others leisurely surveyed their surroundings, taking in the arena not far off aways and the atmosphere that this particular ground gave off.

A couple of the men wandered back towards the rear of the trailers, swinging open double doors and Bucky could hear the thundering steps of horses banging in the back, obviously eager to step off and on to new soil after being holed up in the small spaces for hours on end.

Letting his head roll back loose on his neck so John could look back towards the closest end of the arena, he let his eyes settle on the familiar form of Buck perched up on Baby's back where he'd been for the past half hour, expertly turning her this way and that with barely a twitch of his fingers on the reins.

The mare went easily and obedient, golden coat gleaming under the not-too-harsh sunlight as she spun on her heels and started off at another lope in the opposite direction. They reached about half way before Buck made a low noise, eyes tilted downward at her neck and she planted her hooves in a dead stop, backing up a few steps before spinning and repeating it with a light squeeze from Gale's leg against her flank.

Bucky couldn't help the shiver that trailed up his spine as he watched Gale so expertly put her through the paces of a warm up, keeping her movements quick and agile and working as a perfect team that most other ropers on the circuit could only dream of accomplishing with their own horses, even after years of training and experience.

Riders that had been in the saddle for longer than Buck had been alive still struggled to mirror the air of confidence and partnership that the two had.

It made a coiling heat sit in the bottom of John's stomach as he took in the barely-there grip that Buck had on the long pieces of leather in his hands, delicate looking fingers only twitching here and there in practised commands that Baby could obviously feel against her mouth, no matter how light.

John had to swallow harshly against the sudden dryness of his throat. Images and flashes of memory of those same fingers threaded through his hair and tugging insistently in the throes of a quick bout of passion earlier that morning, tucked away in Gale's trailer as the sun was barely creeping its way up above the horizon invaded his mind.

When the rest of the campground's occupants were still dead quiet and lost to sleep. Bucky had rolled over still half asleep himself when Gale had elegantly climbed his way over him to start getting himself ready for the day, and he'd watched through the small opening from the bed loft into the extended living space of the trailer as the other had wandered naked and quiet gathering up jeans and a shirt from the wardrobe, pulling his belt from a hanger with a clink of metal.

It had only taken a few minutes of John watching him through half lidded eyes, taking in the sight of Buck's tanned shoulders, the small spatter of scattered beauty marks here and there that broke up the perfect expanse and the curve of the cowboy's toned and perfect ass before Bucky had felt his cock stir to life underneath the sheets.

He'd waited silently, feigning sleep until Buck got close enough to the loft's opening before he'd struck out in one quick movement like a rattlesnake and grabbed the blond by the arm, pulling him back in and up onto the bed with an answering surprised yelp that had Bucky grinning like a mad man despite himself.

Despite Buck's quiet protests that he had shit to do and he didn't have the time, it only took a few instances of lips pressed expertly to certain places against the taut line of his throat. John's large hand buried in the back of sandy toned blond hair to pull his head back to expose more of it, ripping involuntary and slowly growing rapid shaky breaths and sounds, that had Buck finally breaking and growling out a sharp frustrated shout like an infuriated mountain lion and flipping Bucky onto his back in one expert movement.

He couldn't help the self satisfied feeling that enveloped him when Buck surged up to kiss him, insistent and hungry, teeth sinking into the plush skin of his bottom lip. Proud and smug knowing that he could melt away Buck's carefully crafted resolve and self control with only a few words or touches of his hands or lips in certain areas, with certain pressures. Could have the other lose it and charge forward head first into Bucky like a captured wild horse that had just had the gates to freedom swing open right in front of him and out into the wilderness.

He had expected the usual, Buck pressing all the right buttons in the abandoned way he always did, driving John to near madness with starved yet soft kisses that would slowly begin to trail downwards, first over his throat before descending to his chest.

A prisoner to the way Buck would drag his talented fingers and lips over the sensitive buds of his nipples, looking straight up at him with those baby blues, clouded over with something dark in lust like a storm cloud when Bucky would have to lift his head just to get a glimpse of him that he would always be helpless to crave.

Just a quick look before it became too much for his melting brain to handle and he would have to let his head fall back against the blankets before it was over a lot quicker than he would like.

He would lose himself even more to Gale's ministrations, not long before the blond would open him up on those same talented digits while perfect lips enveloping his cock as he worked, leaving John a writhing mess of a man before feeling Buck sink perfectly into the warm wet heat of him.

But Buck had crawled back up the length of his body, studiously ignoring the heavy heat of his cock that was leaking in unrestrained want against the dark hair trailing against his stomach and grabbed his chin between thumb and forefinger.

He'd pulled Bucky's face back down to his own, making him focus on blue eyes that seemed far too bright and electric, manic, with so little light, and it had made John pause and just stare at the sudden vulnerability there that had mixed itself amongst the lust.

Gale had kissed him, sweet but still frantic, a whispered "Gotta be quick, we don't have long," before kissing John once more and then leaning back.

Bucky felt the cold shock of the air in the absence of Gale's warmth, thinking he had meant they had to be quick before the other boys started to stir awake themselves with the progression of the sun's rise.

But the thoughts had whisked themselves away into nothingness, swept away into just pure dumb want as he watched Buck reach in to one of the little side nooks around the edge of the bed, pulling out the small tube of lubricant they'd stashed away and then reaching back before working himself open on his own fingers.

Something in John's brain completely misfired, crackling into an exposed and heated live-wire, could only prop himself up on his elbows and watch helpless and open mouthed as Buck moved. The hand not currently moving inside himself reaching out to grip against John's knee, shaky and flexing without thought.

John's eyes had darted over every inch of Gale's body, the way his back had been bowed backwards slightly to accommodate the angle at what he was doing to himself. The expression on his face screwed up in pleasure but also with a timid far away concentration that had him make eye contact with Bucky for a few fleeting moments before he closed them and colour had risen to his cheeks.

It was that nervousness John could pick up on there, the vulnerability that had Buck's body trembling from it as well as the sparks of pleasure he was feeding into himself, a small broken noise sounding in the back of the blond's throat, that had Bucky finally break out of the melting hold his mind was currently suffocating him with and reaching out for Buck.

Pulled him into his arms, into his lap with hushed whispers of "C'mere, oh my god, Come 'ere" until the other had been positioned perfectly in the envelope of his hold, still shaky and trembling and pressing his forehead against Bucky's with eyes squeezed shut, arms draped over John's wide shoulders loose and careful.

It was a fleeting moment when Buck finally opened up his eyes to connect with John's, wide and shy but that little hint of courage John found there had him lifting his hands and fixing themselves firmly over Buck's waist, swallowed up by the size of his fingers and palms like a puzzle piece slotting perfectly into place.

He had gently lifted him, feeling Buck straighten up onto his knees from where they were sat at either side of John's hips, never breaking eye contact as the other man reached back with one shaking arm.

Bucky could only let out a small exhale, just as shaky as the vulnerable cowboy in his arms against similarly parted lips when he felt Buck's fingers wrap delicately around the girth of him.

Could only mirror the sound Buck made against him with a gentle frown, eyes still glued to Buck's as the smaller man slowly positioned himself over the still leaking head of his cock and lowered himself, panting at the stretch.

The arm still around John's shoulders flexed, pulling their chests together tighter, a whine escaping from the back of his throat as he sank down those last few inches until he was fully seated in John's lap again, filled to the brim with him.

John had brought one of his arms around the lower half of Buck's back, just holding him there as a silent support, not game enough to move in fear of scaring Buck out of whatever had made him brave enough to pursue the feeling, of allowing John access to the most vulnerable side of him.

It was a rare occurrence that Buck ever truly opened himself up physically to John in the same way he had emotionally. Too stuck in his own past of never being allowed his own thoughts and free will, being taught by his father from the moment he could step up into a saddle that emotions were worthless, they clouded minds and made you weak and that giving up any kind of control, be it physical or mental, was something to feel shame for.

Something to lock away behind reinforced walls with a key that you should melt down into a useless pile.

It was something that Buck had come to expect a closed fist against his cheek or against his ribs for if he showed anything that could be named as vulnerable.

Bucky had felt a sense of awestruck wonder, staring at the man he was holding safely in his arms now, feeling the reach of what felt like forbidden pleasure coil low in his abdomen when Buck had slowly started to move.

Another sense of privilege mix in when he was subject to the primal sounds of slightly restrained rapture escaping between Buck's parted lips and whisper against his own.

In the aftermath of it all, when Buck had painted the space between them without so much as a brush of John's hand against his own neglected need and left it dripping down the planes of both their stomachs, had held him so tightly as he shuddered and trembled through his release in a strangled cry against John's throat, John had been helpless but to follow suit.

Had filled him deeply and reverently with every single ounce of raw emotion that had been coursing through him with his own low groan against a shivering tan shoulder.

Both ended up laying together, sweat dripping over warm skin and breathing harsh but satisfied, and John had gathered Gale back up into his arms to hold him through what he knew was probably an incredibly daunting and scary thought process.

Yet judging by the relaxed muscles he could feel underneath the tips of his fingers as he stroked them up and down Gale's arm in thought, the blond letting out a long winded sigh against his pectoral, he didn't feel as if the other was freaking out as much as he would have expected at having given himself over to being vulnerable and controlled.

He had felt a strong sense of pride at being something Gale would gladly give himself over to when his courage allowed it.

The quiet chuckle he had let become audible, as well as the comment that 'I didn't think Champion Rider extended over to me, too, Buck," had earned him a bony elbow to the ribs in reply, but also the feeling of a grin being pressed to his side.

Curt's hand slapping in to his chest from beside him brought Bucky's thoughts back to the present like a well aimed cattle prod, and he jerked slightly in his seat from where he was still looking over at Buck to face the smaller brunette questioningly.

Curt had a knowing smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, but he nodded in the direction of where the new cowboys were still unloading their horses and gear. One of the tall ones, who John could only just make out had dark hair underneath an off-white cattleman hat, was walking in their direction.

Looking back to where Buck was still working Baby, John let out a high sharp whistle in his direction to get his attention, and the blond's head snapped up, alert and questioning.

John gestured with a wave of his hand out towards the line of new trailers and the newcomers, and saw the barely there nod Buck sent his way with a tip of his chin in acknowledgement before spinning Baby with practised ease and walking her up the length of the arena leisurely towards the gates.

When Bucky focused his attention back towards the approaching new cowboy, the man had stopped near Crosby just under the edge of the awning, hands coming up to rest on his hips and tipping his hat in greeting.

Piercing blue eyes scanned over the three of them, but not in a judgemental way, just in a gesture of taking them in, curious and friendly. He hazarded a glance around, tongue darting out to swipe over his lips in a nervous gesture underneath a neatly trimmed moustache.

"Gentlemen," he said brightly, small smile beaming. "Figure this is the right place. I'm Robert, Robert Rosenthal, but just Rosie's fine. I'm with the new bunch of ropers, Chick said you knew we were comin'?"

Crosby nodded at him, leaning forward in his chair to reach for Rosie's hand in a friendly greeting and introducing himself before Curt and John copied and did the same.

"Sure did," Crosby smiled, all typical cowboy friendliness turned up to a full ten. It was a move John knew well, watching the barely veiled curiosity and calculated observation in both Cros and Curt's body language, taking in the new guy and if he was as genuine as he was giving out in first impression. John couldn't help the small grin from tipping up one side of his lips. "Right on time, actually. Hope it wasn't too hard finding the place."

Rosie smiled even brighter at the welcoming air he was receiving, a small weight lifting off of his shoulders.

"Nah, just followed the signs. Was easy enough even after the GPS in the truck conked out on us halfway here."

Crosby chuckled at Rosie's words, the last of his demeanour softening, and in turn John felt his own reservations melt away about the man as he shifted further down in to his seat and shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie comfortably.

"Say," Rosie suddenly piped up, expression turning just that touch of sheepish around the edges. "Chick was saying when we got here I was meant to go see Gale Cleven? Said he'd know where to point us to get us settled?"

As if on queue, the distinct sound of a horse sidled up to Bucky's left, and he turned his head just in time to see the gold sheen of Baby's distinct coat come around the corner of the trailer, said Gale Cleven seated up on her like a king astride his steed.

The blond shot Bucky a quick fond little private smile from above, using his tongue to move the toothpick currently sitting between his lips from one side to the other before he looked up and focused in on Rosie. The classic friendly Cleven smile painted itself on his face in a matter of moments.

"Howdy," Buck drawled, tilting his chin in greeting and oozing with unintentional charm, and John snorted in amusement like he was witness to an inside joke. Gale leaned forward with an air of ease and leaned his elbows on the horn of his saddle. "You one of the new boys, I'm guessing?"

Rosie stared at Gale for a moment, eyes widening and jaw going slightly slack before he sputtered and collected himself with a shake of his head. He reached up and removed the hat from its perch above somehow perfectly styled near black hair and stepped up to Baby's shoulder, hand reaching out to shake Gale's hand.

John saw the telltale signs of worship and respect from a mile away, a slight tint rising to the new cowboy's cheeks as Gale reached down and gripped Rosie's hand in greeting.

He didn't know why something started niggling against his gut like an insect buzzing for the pure intent of irritation, but he swallowed it down, eyes flickering back and forth between Gale and Rosie like a hawk, a frown threatening to crease his brow.

It wasn't the first time another cowboy had been star struck by meeting one of the top ropers in the country, Gale Cleven. He was the golden child of the rodeo world and had a famous last name spanning back three generations to prove it. A downright western nepo-baby but with the talent and good nature to keep that good name going and do it justice instead of just relying on the name alone to garner the fame.

And with looks like that as well as the humble disposition and talent on top, Curt had quickly learned not to make bets with Bucky on how many buckle bunnies sidled up to Gale at each rodeo, all sickly sweet smiles and daisy-dukes paired with bedazzled cowgirl boots and low cut tops trying to tempt the rider into their beds.

Only to be shot down politely with a charming smile. Much to their disappointment. And Bucky's sharp, self satisfied dangerous grin that usually followed them from over Buck's shoulder as they turned away with dramatic pouted botox lips over said cowboy.

Rosie looked like he'd just met a damned God, expression bashful and eyes diverting every few seconds from Gale's gaze as he brought a hand up to nervously run through his hair before sitting his hat back atop his head.

"Yessir, Rosie Rosenthal. We just rolled in," he glanced back at the trailers in the direction he'd come from, Gale's eyes flickering to the same direction before focusing back on each other.

"Yeah I thought so. Chick mentioned you yesterday, said you guys were comin'. Hope the trip wasn't too hard on you and your boys."

Rosie scoffed dismissively but friendly. "Ah we did alright. Took a bit of-"

"Hooooly shit, you're Gale Cleven!"

All five cowboys looked up at the same time to see a kid no younger than 20 years old come jogging up from the direction of the new trailers, breathless and wide eyed. Bucky didn't think he'd ever seen a greener roper in his life, bright eyed and overly confident in his steps and the line of his shoulders.

He stepped up next to Rosie, who suddenly had an expression of fond exasperation, looking down at the ground with a slow shake of his head. Like a big brother tasked with having to look after a younger sibling and slightly embarrassed to be associated.

"When Rosie said we were gonna be riding with the Gale fuckin' Cleven, I honestly woulda believed him more if he said pigs fly," the kid smiled. "The name's Nash."

When he walked up to shake Gale's offered hand, the blond still smiling with the greeting charm turned all the way up to ten on the dial, Bucky couldn't stop the smile from breaking out onto his own face at the way Baby turned her head with an evil eye, ears pinned back slightly and teeth bared as she attempted to nip at the kid's shirt.

Gale didn't even react besides picking up the reins and secretly forcing her mouth in the opposite direction without anyone being the wiser or even noticing. She huffed out a sharp breath, nostrils flaring and shifting her back feet in disappointment.

Bucky had to bring his hand up, pretending to brush his fingers along the hair of his moustache to hide his amused smirk from the others.

"Nash from Nashville?" Curt leaned over and whispered behind his hand and Bucky nearly palmed his face away with a slap. He was barely hanging on to his composure by a thread from watching Baby.

That horse would be the death of him, right alongside the cowboy still perched up on her back. Gale had leisurely hooked his left leg up and across the pommel of the saddle in front of him, all the air of a calm and cocksure cowboy if there ever was one. And Bucky knew he didn't even do it on purpose. Didn't even have to try.

"Well, it's good to have you boys joining us. Needed some fresh new faces to join the ranks." Gale grinned, toothpick bobbing.

"Where you boys from, anyways?" Crosby piped up, asking as if Curt's offhanded joke had sparked some genuine curiosity.

Nash turns to Crosby, suddenly aware that there are, in fact, more people privvy to his starstruck excitement, and Bucky sees the moment the kid's eyes widen even further and wonders if maybe they should have brought Ken in for standby medical attention.

"Oh lord, you're Harry Crosby!" Eyes pan over to Curt, zipping between him and then to Bucky, mouth agape and sputtering. "The John Egan, and Curt Biddick!"

Curt leans over to Bucky, eyes watching the kid like he wasn't sure if he should be moving backwards in case he spontaneously combusted on the spot. "He knows who I am?"

Nash looks shocked at Curt's words, hand flying up to palm his forehead underneath the red flat cap he was wearing. "Oh man, of course I know who you are! I've seen those tiktoks of you backflipping over those bulls like it's nothin'!"

Curt gets a satisfied smile lighting up his face at Nash's enthusiasm, propping his left ankle up on his knee in an air of nonchalance but doesn't say anything further as Nash focuses in on Bucky.

"And you! Man, you're the reason I nearly changed my mind from ropin' to bull ridin'. My sisters love you!"

Bucky chuckles, suddenly gaining an air of fondness for the kid, like a little brother who can at once annoy the ever-loving hide off of you, but one you'd also show up at 2am for when they call drunk saying they needed your help. Has a feeling if the new ropers stick around and fit the bill that at some point he'd end up having to do just that.

"Texas," Rosie suddenly pipes up, answering Crosby's earlier question before Nash got them all side tracked. "Me and Nash are from Texas. Other boys are a mix of everywhere."

Gale nods in acknowledgement from his perch on Baby, demeanour still interested and warm. "Texas, huh? Heard it gets awful hot down there, can't say I've been too often, not during the warmer months anyways."

Rosie laughs, a hearty sound with still that hint of shaky nervousness, no doubt from having Buck's attention back on him. He rubs in a bashful gesture at the back of his neck, smile small but no less bright.

"Yeah she does get a little warm. Me and Nash did most of our first shows down there, did a few roping clinics as well in the beginning."

"One time we practised for twelve hours straight!" Nash piped up, bouncing on the balls of his feet, excitement still at the forefront. "Ended up stripped down to nothing but our underwear it got so damn hot, near fell off my horse at one point!"

Bucky looked between the two men, eyebrows climbing up towards his hairline. He didn't have to glance at Buck to know the blond wore a similar expression, calm facade broken for a few seconds.

"You boys… rode in your underwear?" Bucky slowly asked, a smile crawling onto his face as he pictured it with ease but also with a feeling of sympathetic discomfort. Saw Buck grimace from the corner of his eye, no doubt thinking on how uncomfortable that would have been on their privates, saddles digging in with the rough motions from the horse's movements.

Rosie had the sense to look embarrassed, cheeks heating up into a bright hue of red and eyes diverting from the boys for a moment or two as he chuckled nervously. They glanced up at Buck like he was about to be reprimanded by the horseman.

"Ahh, yes sir, that we did."

But Buck didn't have a cruel reprimanding bone in his body, not unless you were downright abusive to your horse or an idiot to the point you put yourself and your men or your horse in danger, and that amused smirk coloured the cowboy's expression once again as he watched Rosie with something akin to fascination.

It only served to bring light back to that uncomfortable coiling burn still perched in Bucky's stomach and chest, irritating to the point he had to bring a hand up and rub questioningly at his sternum with a confused frown. He could feel Curt's eyes currently searing a hole into the side of his head, but chose to ignore it.

"Can't say I envy you on that," Buck laughed, straightening up in the saddle with a stretch of his torso and a small groan, muscles probably aching from the morning warm up with Baby. "How about I come on over with you to meet the rest of your boys, make sure you lot get settled in okay and help out a little?"

Rosie looked lost on words, eyes raking over Buck quickly that John managed to catch easily, frown finally shaping his brow above sharp eyes and pursed lips.

"Yeah, yeah! Sure thing, we'd all be glad of it. I'm sure the other boys are busting their asses to meet you." Rosie stuttered, turning his body but his head still turned back to keep his focus on Buck.

Gale urged Baby forward with a nudge of his spurs and a barely audible click in his throat, the mare tossing her head as she was finally pushed in to moving. She walked along for a few steps before being pushed up further into a trot, going along happily as Buck directed her over towards the new trailers and the line of men now visible standing with their horses tied up against the sides of them.

Bucky watched as horse and rider got further and further away, the blond cowboy rising and falling in the saddle perfectly in time with Baby's gait like he was part of the horse himself, Rosie and Nash following behind at a more subdued pace.

Noticed Rosie watching Gale's form in the saddle as well as the other moved ahead of them.

John couldn't help the way he turned his head to Curt, the other man still watching him with no shame, icey blue eyes focused on him like an accusation, chin propped up in the palm of his hand. One eyebrow raised slowly as John looked at him, a smirk curving one side of his mouth.

"I ain't sayin' nothin'." Curt drawled slowly, never breaking his stare with Bucky.

John sighed and looked away, extracting his pack of cigarettes out from the pocket of his hoodie where he had his hands rested, pulling a single white stick out with his lips and teeth to light with a more aggressive than necessary flick of his wrist with the lighter.

"Nothin' to say, Curt."

--

After the new ropers had been officially settled in, horses finding a place and getting their programs from Chick at the office, the rest of the week was a long winded process of practices and warm ups from sunrise to sundown.

Along with Rosie and Nash, there were a total of two others out of six that had travelled in with them looking to recruit themselves in the the current circuit alongside the roping greats that were Gale Cleven and his team.

Each and every one with hopeful smiles and talent as quick-footed and sure as Chick could have ever hoped for. A lucky draw of a bunch, and with them came high hopes as well as pre-drawn contracts ready and waiting for after the rodeo set to play out at the end of the week.

Rosie's main crew consisted of the pre-mentioned Nash, the youngest out of the lot, still singing praises of each and every cowboy he met with a pep in his step and bright smile as he followed John or Curt or Crosby around like a new puppy at his master's heels.

The main header who Rosie said was a spitfire of a man with a roping hand as sticky as molasses was Winifred "Pappy" Lewis. A stout young fellow just as eager and fresh as the rest but with an air of maturity to him that had him quickly gain favor with Buck.

He took in every single thing that Gale told him and every pointer and piece of advice he got as if he was a sponge, and Bucky could tell that Gale had nothing but respect for the kid and knew he would go as far as he wanted if he put the effort in.

Pappy often had his best friend, another bright and intensely eager man who went by nothing other than Speas, which made Bucky smile with amusement at the information in a quaint understanding, noting that even Pappy would always and only refer to him as such.

It reminded him fondly of him and Buck and the nicknames that they often only teased each other for in the beginning when they first met before that mutual respect was earned.

As such, most of Gale's and Bucky's days were filled with either practice of warm ups leading up to the main rodeo event, leaving little one on one time between the two of them. But it was to be expected. And it wasn't something either men were new to, especially having brand new charges under Buck's wing that he was given full responsibility for, and the task of having them all ready for what was ahead.

In the few moments in between being behind the chutes and the rare scant moments of free time he had, Bucky would often perch himself up against the rails of the arena and just observe Buck and his new little team of amateurs with a fond smile.

The blond cowboy looked right at home out there, voice clear and authoritative as he ordered them around and through their paces, keeping an air of respect about him that kept that respect well received continuously amongst the newbies.

He never got angry, never lost his temper no matter how stupid Nash or Speas sometimes got when exhaustion started gripping them towards the day's end. And John knew that alongside Buck's more often than not kind and calm demeanour, it was also a conscious effort to keep the teaching mellow but firm, not violent and dismissive, not too strict, like his father.

Knew Buck recognised that being a friend as well as a mentor got the younger ropers further and more willing to listen to him and have that information stick, rather than hold them under an angry hand with a cuff around the back of the ear for not listening well enough.

He found gentleness and conscious effort and time was more productive in the long run, much like the training of a young horse.

You couldn't whip a young horse for making a step left instead of a right and expect the horse to know what it did wrong from the violence alone with little to no feedback. It didn't work like that.

It had Bucky's affection for the other cowboy continue to grow and grow until he felt like he would fall to knees under the weight of it.

Often having to find the strength not to slip through that arena fence and march right up to Buck, perched high on Baby and grab the other man and pull him down in to a crushing kiss every other moment. Often keeping that affection pent up until the two found a few seconds alone like they'd always done and slip between trailers to steal a kiss in privacy, or in the quiet moments in Buck's trailer they were all but lucky to have at that point in time.

Those moments seemed to get further and further in between though, with the amount of time training and practising took up for the rodeo lately.

And now with Buck having his new charges, Bucky often would enter Buck's trailer for the night to find the blond already dead to the world face down on the trailer's loft bed, face peaceful and once or twice only having managed to take off one boot before sleep took him under.

It was something Bucky didn't mind in the slightest, understood on a different level because they were in the same boat. And on those nights he'd quietly remove Buck's other boot and put his hat up on the hook by the trailer door before climbing into bed, careful not to disturb the other, before pulling the smaller man into his arms against his chest and letting himself drift off to sleep to the smell of Buck's hair and horses under his nose.

The only problem that had arisen, as well as that uncomfortable burning sensation against Bucky's chest from the day the new ropers pulled up, was that the quiet moments or scant few minutes Buck and him were able to achieve were getting less and less.

Especially when every waking moment that Buck had was filled with the other ropers and their attention, or Rosie. Who very quickly came to be who Buck started to fill most of his time with.

The new roper had all but become Buck's shadow, following the blond around either on foot or horse-back, that ever growing reverence and smitten expression intensifying with every word or look Buck offered him.

The man practically had hearts for pupils, and Bucky didn't know if Buck was stupid or ignorant, or just that damned innocently clueless that he didn't realise that Rosie had the biggest damn crush this side of the equator, but it was really starting to rub Bucky the wrong way.

It left a sour taste in his mouth, especially when he noticed more and more the answering soft smiles or laughs Buck would direct right back at Rosie.

That burning feeling deep in the core of him started eating away, until his heart started constricting in a valiant effort to protect itself from the flames, until his thoughts were swallowed with it every waking moment.

It only seemed to drive the flames further that very morning when for the first time in a while, Bucky had woken up to the realisation that Buck's side of the bed was empty, already cold from the amount of time that the blond had been vacant from it.

It had taken him a few groggy moments to blink the sleep away from his mind, frowning in confusion as to why he hadn't woken up to the smaller man being tucked into his side and waiting for him to wake before he started to get ready for the day.

He'd stumbled out of bed, yawning wide with a stretch and walking over to the small kitchenette to flick the kettle on, intent on making coffee, when the familiar sound of Buck's laugh had reached him from outside the trailer.

Bucky had walked over to the small trailer window that was faced towards the arena in the distance, and had managed to notice the two figures by the rails in the early morning light.

Buck was standing beside Baby, the mare fully tacked up with her head down managing to slip in a quick nap, his arms rested up on a higher rail, his posture relaxed and easy going. He had his back to the trailer, but John would be able to pick that cowboy out among a crowd of a million.

He would have also been able to pick out Rosie, who was standing on the other side of the fence, his own horse pawing lazily in the sand behind him in boredom as the two men talked in a low murmur into the early morning air.

Bucky watched in silence, breath catching in his throat as Rosie smiled, all timid but flirtatious, and reached out to put his hand on Buck's arm where it was leaned against the rail.

Buck laughed, face tilting down to stare at the dirt below, and didn't move his arm out from underneath Rosie's touch.

Bucky made himself look away, something horrid and hurtful squeezing his chest and throat.

He reached for the kettle which had started squealing at him as if it was mocking his misery.

--

The night before the rodeo, the usual tradition of beers and bonfire gets amped up in to full swing, a pre-rodeo celebration as well as a late welcome party for the new ropers before the big day.

The fire is bigger than just a measly fire pit this time, Curt and Ken having convinced Chick to call in to the owners of the current rodeo grounds and get permission to build a bigger bonfire in one of the designated spots on site.

It only takes a couple of hours to have the permission texted back, and even less time for the group as a whole to have built up a fairly decently sized bonfire that crackles and whooshes to life to the answering manic cackling of Curt like some mischievous gremlin in the echoes of it.

Brady and Hambone had gone into town in Brady's pickup to get the alcohol, and promptly returned soon after with enough cases of beer of several different brands, as well as a few bottles of stronger stuff that in whole could satiate an entire army and still have a fair portion left over in the morning.

By the time the sun has disappeared behind the distant hills, a familiar lull of some random country playlist murmuring behind the voices of the boys from a Bluetooth speaker, Bucky had already meandered his way past Brady and a few of the others to pluck two beers from the crate on the fold out table and flop himself into his usual camper chair.

He observes the others in a calm disinterested silence as he pops the top off his first beer and takes a heated and long pull from it, relishing in the sharp taste as the cooled liquid slips down his throat.

It settles on top of the burning pit that had become a permanent fixture in his abdomen, soaking it up and dampening it a small amount once the alcohol finally starts digging its fingers in.

In a good turn of events, the newer boys, Nash and Speas and Pappy had all but been accepted rightfully and instantly amongst the league of the others, all fanning off into their respective little circles to talk and make good atmosphere.

They melded in like they'd always been there, and it did make Bucky happy that Brady and Cros and all the other boys had ushered the others into those circles like long lost brothers.

Rosie had been accepted just as easily too, the man's good nature and kindness earning him the same back tenfold amongst the boys.

But as Bucky's gaze comes to rest on the man in question from across the fire, standing close with Buck, smile soft and direct as he lowers his head closer to Buck's ear to be heard over the roar of the fire and the music, Bucky can't help the possessive jealousy that instantly cuts into his very soul at the sight.

Feels even worse when Buck looks up at the other roper through his dark blond lashes with an answering soft smile, and tries to dampen the feeling again by taking another aggressive mouthful from the beer bottle in his hand.

He can feel the jealousy spark and rip up into him when Rosie obviously tells Buck something that has the blond throwing his head back in a laugh, Rosie's eyes trailing over the expanse of his throat, and Bucky toys with the idea of getting up and waltzing over there to plant one very giant possessive and territorial kiss onto the cowboy's mouth in a show of dominance.

Knows that he can't, though, just in case.

Knows that none of his boys would bat an eye at it. But he doesn't know the thoughts of the new boys, of Nash and Speas and Pappy, enough that he would risk him and Buck being shunned because the new men were the same type that would have crucified them where they stand and then proceed to slander his and Buck's names through the rodeo circuits like a disgusting curse, all because of bigoted religion.

The way that Rosie is currently staring at Buck though, all wide eyed and giddy and adoring, has Bucky half ready to do exactly what his invasive thoughts are screaming at him to do, let that festering possessive emotion culminate into acting on it.

He's just about to rise from his seat, thighs tensing when Curt's voice sounds from right beside him, close enough to his ear that it has the larger cowboy startle and nearly lose the the death grip of a hold that he has on his beer.

"The wind changes too quick and your face is gonna get stuck like that,"

Bucky whips his face around to the smug grin of Curt's right next to him, but the shorter man's eyes are currently looking over to where Buck and Rosie are still standing. Still talking close and soft.

Still ripping at Bucky's insides in a dangerous game.

Bucky lets a long winded sigh rush from his lungs, making his body settle back into the chair at the feeling of Curt's hand coming up to rest on his shoulder and squeeze from where he's bent over to talk to John.

He pats John's shoulder in a good natured gesture before taking the empty camp chair beside him, throwing himself into it with a grunt.

"Your boy's been making new friends, huh?"

John snorts, a cruel, sharp sound, and takes another sip from his beer. "Somethin' like that."

He's focused back on Rosie and Buck, surprised neither of them can feel the heat of John's stare, but he can see Curt glance at him from the corner of his eye. Can see the way the other observes him, running his eyes up and down John before sighing and clasping his hands together in contemplation.

"And.. how do you feel about it?"

John forces his eyes away for a moment, looks at Curt in a questioning way, before looking back across the fire. "He can do whatever he wants. 'm not his keeper."

Curt lets his head loll back in exasperation at John's words, disbelief as he looks up at the dark night sky above them before looking back down at Bucky.

"True. True, but, you are his man. His whole world, if you wanna put it bluntly I 'spose."

Bucky flicks his tongue out to lick his lips, the heat of the fire leaving them dry and uncomfortable. A complimenting feeling to the one in his chest.

"Seems his orbit has extended a bit," Bucky remarks, and isn't prepared for the feeling of Curt's hand cuffing him up the back of the head in a rapid strike.

His hat flies off and falls into his lap, and he can't help the affronted noise that makes its way out of his throat as he turns to Curt with wide, shocked eyes and a slack jaw.

Curt's staring him down with a look of disbelief and barely concealed annoyance, light blue eyes cutting through the very recesses of his soul and down to the bone. It makes Bucky want to shrink down into the collar of his coat, like frightened turtle hiding itself away from a predator.

"The fuck y' do that for!?" he yelps, rubbing at the back of his head tenderly at the still smarting impact that Curt made. It was more shock than anything, barely something resembling actual hurt, but he rubbed at it all the same.

Curt pointed his finger at him, jabbing in his direction, face still impossibly hard and serious. "I know you're a bull rider, but god, you can't actually be that dense."

Bucky opens his mouth to protest, but Curt shushes him, making him snap his jaw closed.

"That man over there thinks the goddamn world of you, John Egan. I've seen and heard things I wish I never did, but by god if there's one thing I do know, is that he only has eyes for you, no matter what your dumb mushed up brain is telling you. Or how much better Rosie's moustache is than yours,"

John looks at Curt with feigned hurt, an affronted scoff falling from his mouth but before he can retort, Curt cuts him off again with another well aimed jab of his finger, this time straight into Bucky's chest.

"I may have known you since highschool, Bucky, but I've known Gale a long fuckin' time too. Long before you showed up in our circuit. That man is the sweetest, most loyal soul in existence, and if you ever think that he'd give you up when he looks at you the way he does, I'll bury your body myself and leave a fuckin' note on his trailer door."

Bucky swallows, letting his eyes wander from Curt's back over to where Buck is standing with Rosie, still talking, and feels his heart stutter when Gale's eyes finally find him over the flames.

They lock on to him, and his expression and smile softens into something so adoring and beautiful that it steals John's breath right from his lungs.

He doesn't have the chance to smile back before Buck turns back to his conversation, Nash having joined him and Rosie, and John forces himself to look back at Curt again.

The other man is staring at him, no less intense, but there's something understanding there now too. He looks between Bucky's eyes, sitting back when he finds whatever he was looking for, and plucks Bucky's beer right from his hand to steal a swig.

John doesn't even try to protest, just glares un-bitingly in disapproval as he takes the beer back with a swipe when Curt offers it back.

"All I'm saying is, think for a minute or two for me, yeah? Before you go ripping Rosie to pieces over something that's not even there. You'd be surprised." Curt tells him softly, reaching out to Bucky's knee to pat it before hoisting himself up and starting to walk around the fire to where Ken is sitting with Douglas and Everett on the tailgate of Brady's pickup.

He watches as Ken's face lights up like the moon sitting high above them, letting Curt fit himself in between his legs dangling over the edge of the tailgate and leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Curt's lips.

Everett wolf whistles in a quiet tone as Curt pulls Ken's arms around his waist with a smile, before Curt turns back around to Bucky, fixing him with a pointed look before bringing two fingers up and making the telltale 'I'm watching you' gesture between his own eyes and John's several times.

Bucky sees Ken look up to him too, a knowing smile aimed pointedly at him and Bucky feels like he's being judged over information he's not at all privvy to.

--

The rodeo the next day goes off without a hitch.

John absolutely decimates the lineup of bull riders with a near perfect score that has him throwing his hat off into the crowd with a well aimed toss as the announcer praises him name over the loudspeakers, just barely audible above the sound of the crowd and their exuberance.

He even landed on his feet this time, granted wobbling just that tiny bit and nearly face planting in to the sand as Curt rushed past him in his rodeo clown get-up to distract the bull, before he managed to catch his balance and sprint up to the chutes and leap his way out of the bull's raging war-path.

He had felt the heat of the bull's breath over the denim on his thigh as it had brushed past him, but it only kept that adrenaline rushing through every vein in his body, ramping it up to that next level as he'd been grinning like mad man, laughing at the rush.

After he'd calmed down and made his way into the alleys behind the chutes to get a better view of the arena, sweat damp hair falling into his eyes, he'd waited patiently while the officials had raked over the arena with the tractor for the ropers.

Felt the rapid thundering of his heart in his chest speed back up in anticipation of watching Buck take his run, only giving the thought of him partnering with Rosie as his heeler a momentary allowance before the speakers crackled back to life and the crowd started filtering back into the stands after a brief intermission.

Speas and Pappy went first, nailing their run and managing to heal and head the steer in almost perfect form, the two men smiling wide and giving each other high fives from where they were seated up on their horses as they rode past and then back into the alley to make way for the next pair.

It was a waiting game for Bucky, three more pairs of riders having their goes before finally he spotted Buck trotting a very eager Baby up to the starting pen.

The mare was bobbing up and down in excitement under him, nostrils flaring and tail swishing while Buck checked his rope, one set held between his teeth as he coiled the excess into perfect loops in one hand, giving no mind to Baby's barely contained energy.

Bucky couldn't help the smile from spreading across his face, bringing one boot up to rest on the bottom rail as Buck and Rosie finally squared up into their positions.

He kept his eyes resolutely on Buck, seeing the moment he glanced down at the cowboy manning the steer chute and giving that telltale nod.

And then they were off.

It barely felt like a blink in time as John watched, seeing the two riders move perfectly in sync as they took off after the steer, hot on its heels and lassos twirling with practised ease.

Buck had cast his out into a perfectly aimed arc and roped the steer's horns in a matter of seconds, shortly followed by Rosie capturing its heels and then it was a quick flurry of the two pulling their respective horses into the normal halt.

The horses knowing exactly what they were supposed to do and making everything look so easy Bucky wondered if they could have done the maneuvers without their riders, just memory alone.

John was expecting it, knowing that the fluid movements both Rosie and Buck had worked were the picture perfect dream team, but even as the scores were tallied up at the end of the event, he couldn't help the way his heart raced at hearing Buck's name spoken out in victory, letting out a loud celebratory whistle in the blond cowboy's celebration.

Seeing the way the other man had looked up into the crowd, taking in the fact that they were cheering for him and Rosie and the wide, bright smile that had lit up his face in turn lit up Bucky's entire soul, and he couldn't help mirroring it.

But he also couldn't help the way that the sinking feeling returned to his stomach when he watched Buck and Rosie ride up to each other, clasping hands and pulling each other in to a quick one armed hug, smiles beaming.

So when all was said and done, he turned his eyes away and decided to make his way back to Buck's trailer to strip off his gear and start to settle himself down in the adrenalised aftermath.

He resolutely ignored the tight restricting feeling crawling its way up his throat.

He had only been in Buck's trailer for a matter of minutes, hands fumbling with the straps of his protective vest in anticipation of stripping himself of the heavy material, when the trailer door had slammed shut behind him and startled him in to turning around.

Buck was standing there, but was very pointedly staring at the trailer floor, hands on his hips over the leather of his chaps and taking a long, deep breath out from his nostrils, face blank and unreadable.

Bucky took a small step back when he felt the sudden tense air fill the small space of the trailer, taking in the hard and trembling line of Buck's shoulders, heaving slightly with what John could only discern as barely concealed rage.

He didn't dare speak, just standing there with his fingers still paused in the movement of undoing his vest straps, and watched the way Buck's eyes still wouldn't meet his, the steely blue gaze hard and unflinching but flickering back and forth with silent thoughts.

Both cowboys stood there for what felt like an age, neither daring to move lest the other lash out like a snake at any sudden move, and Bucky could feel his heart sink lower and lower the longer Buck kept silent, dread crawling up his throat and into his mouth in a sickening wave.

When that feeling felt like it was about to bubble out of him like an overflowing shaken up coke bottle, he parted his mouth, trying to get some type of sound or word out, but snapped his jaw shut again when Buck whipped his head up to stare straight at him.

It felt like those blue eyes were boring holes into his very soul, stormy and enraged and something else that Bucky couldn't quite discern and didn't necessarily want to.

He kept himself still, not wanting Buck to unleash whatever was building there inside his head, just stared right back, wanting but not able to break their stares for fear of what would happen if he did.

So when Buck finally moved, making a beeline straight for him, eyes still sharp and unreadable, Bucky found himself taking another small step back, steeling himself as Buck got closer and closer until he got so close that Bucky felt himself swallow in a suddenly dry throat, ready for the rage of Buck's words to finally pour out.

He took a small breath, not afraid of Buck but afraid of how truthful Buck's words would be, but instead found himself making a small sound of surprise as two hands came up to grab the sides of his face and drag him downwards into a fierce bruising kiss against the other man's lips.

It only took him a few scant moments before he let the tension ooze out of his body and melt into the other, allowing his eyes to close as Buck kissed him harshly, digging his thumbs into the sides of Bucky's jaw until he parted his lips properly and was rewarded with Buck's tongue invading his mouth with an energy he was struggling to compete with.

He risked moving his own hands, abandoning the straps he didn't realise he was still holding on to and fit them perfectly against the curve of Gale's ass, squeezing against the denim and soft leather of the chaps and pulling the smaller man's hips against his own.

Bucky couldn't help the disappointed groan he let slip when Gale pulled his lips away from his, breath panting hot and rapid over his lips in a staticky wild energy, both men's eyes still squeezed shut at the onslaught of emotion suddenly coursing through them.

He felt Buck's fingers shift back from his jaw to grip harshly at the longer curls at the back of his head, pulling until a sharp pain made him groan again against Gale's lips.

"You're such a fuckin' idiot, John Egan."

John felt his eyes fly open, a confused frown pulling at his brow as he finally looked at Buck, who was staring at him with that same stormy anger he had seen when the other man had entered the trailer.

He let his gaze scan over Gale's features, sitting on the kiss swollen redness of his lips before making eye contact again.

"What?"

Buck sighed, sharp and irritated and tugged at John's hair again that had Bucky hissing through his teeth as Buck knocked their foreheads together harshly.

"I said, that you're an idiot, and I can't believe you thought for even a second that I would ever think of replacing you, or be jealous of Rosie, for Christ's sake."

John gaped at Buck's words, feeling hot shame and embarrassment coil into his stomach, and had no doubt that his face was turning a bright shade of red as he cringed.

He looked away from Buck's eyes for a few seconds, trying to wrangle that shame under control before he looked back at him. He could feel the way his face melted into something sad and shameful, and he couldn't control it.

"Buck, I-"

"Shutup, and listen to me for a second. When I told you, all those weeks ago that you had made your home in my heart, I damn well meant it. And I don't know about you, but I mean what I say."

The shame increased for a few moments before something that felt suspiciously like relief started to chase it away, a new sensation building as he stared at Buck.

He took in the raw emotion that was growing in the blond's expression, the way his lips trembled slightly and the crease between his brows, a bead of sweat trailing from his hair and down the side of his face.

He couldn't help but think Buck was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, a thought that often overtook every waking moment.

"Rosie is not interested in me like that, John. And I can tell you that with complete honesty, right now. He respects me, is starstruck by me, has looked up to my dad and now me since he was a kid. There is nothing there besides respect and adoration for my riding and my name."

John swallows heavily, the shame now disappearing completely, and he suddenly thinks that he would really, really like to kiss the man standing in front of him again. "But I-"

Buck brings one hand around to grip Bucky's jaw in between his fingers giving him a gentle shake to quiet him again.

"Besides," Buck murmurs suddenly, a small grin crawling its way on to his lips, and Bucky watches the motion with reverence before returning his hold on Buck's eyes, which have gone softer in their intensity. "He likes Crosby."

Bucky feels his brain short circuit, like someone has cut the wires again, leaving him in a state of sudden confusion and shock like Buck had just slapped him with the hand still holding his jaw.

The sudden images of small secretive smiles, of giddy looks and signs that he had resolutely ignored, had pushed down into the back of his mind like unimportant information because all he had been focused on was Buck and Rosie, suddenly made him feel, indeed, very stupid.

He frowned at Buck, mouth opening and closing a few times as Buck watched all the pieces click into place in his mind with a self satisfied smirk on the blond's lips.

"Crosby!? Wh- How the hell do you know that?"

Buck laughed, low and quiet, and let his grip on John's jaw loosen slightly, thumb stroking over the sharp angle of it.

"Curt." He said simply.

Bucky sputtered, still trying to process the onslaught of information that he had suddenly been made aware of in such a short amount of time, and his head started to ache.

"How the hell does Curt know that?" John questioned. He brought his hands that were still sitting against the curve of Buck's ass up to rest comfortingly against the shape of his waist in a comforting hold. Buck rolled his eyes, his smirk only growing. "Curt knows everything, you should know this. He's also the reason I found out you were being a jealous idiot for the past week."

Bucky cleared his throat at Buck's words, averting his eyes in embarrassment and cursing under his breath, but was quickly pulled back by Buck's hand so he was face to face with the other man once again.

He was also face to face with Buck's sudden look of complete fond adoration, eyes partially lidded and staring over the contours of his face, eyes scanning every inch of it like he was seeing the stars for the first time.

He felt the continuous movement of Buck's thumb running against the skin of his jaw, the barely there whisper of movement that sent a shiver straight up his spine in an electric over load from being the sudden subject of Buck's soft attention.

"Told you you should'a worn a helmet. Your brain's startin' to turn to mush," Buck smiled up at him, amusement plain on his beautiful face and Bucky felt himself mirror it with a raised brow.

"Oh ha ha, Cleven's got jokes," he purred, slowly lowering his face down to Buck's until he pressed his lips gently against Gale's, feeling the ghost of his smart-ass smile melt away into John's ministrations.

He flexed his fingers against Buck's waist and the other leaned into the kiss perfectly, hand that had been gripping John's jaw finally releasing its hold and running down the column of his throat, fingers caressing in a barely there touch that had Bucky groaning into him.

The sound of familiar muffled voices outside the trailer suddenly had Bucky snapping his eyes open with realisation, pulling away from Buck's mouth suddenly as he leaned over to the window, reaching out with one arm.

Buck made a disappointed sound where he was still held carefully with John's other arm as the bull rider flicked the glass of the window open, face leaning closer to the opening as he shouted out into the open campground.

"You're a fuckin' traitor, Biddick! A big fat goddamn traitor!"

Curt's barked out laughter reached them from a short distance away, a half cut off 'You're welcome!' shouted back in answer as Bucky slammed the sliding glass shut and cut the world out again, leaving him and Buck standing in the ensuing silence.

Turning his attention back to Buck with a soft smile, he noticed the blond cowboy's eyes had dropped from his face down to the expanse of his chest, and he followed his gaze down to where Buck was suddenly fiddling absentmindedly with the still half-done straps of his vest.

Buck cut his eyes up to his again, smile spreading across his face, all sweetness and barely concealed mischief held behind the blue, and Bucky felt his cock stir unhelpfully against the harsh denim seam of his jeans.

With slow practiced ease, Buck lent up, by-passing Bucky's lips completely and instead brushed his lips against the shell of John's ear, making the taller man shiver and tighten his hold back on the waist between his fingers.

"Get this off, and get your ass up on that bed, now," Buck purred, low and so dangerously rumbled that it had Bucky huffing out a breath of surprise as Buck suddenly moved back and pushed a hand against his chest, making him stumble back a few steps.

He watched Buck with wide eyes as the other started fumbling with the buckles holding his roping chaps around his hips, eyes never leaving John's and Bucky felt his brain suddenly kick back in to gear, heart pounding in excitement.

He turned away from Buck for a few moments to hoist himself up onto the mattress of the bed in the loft, almost tripping in his haste and hands flying down to rip the straps of his vest open.

"Sir, yes sir, King Cleven," he teased, letting out a breathless 'oof' as he turned around to recieve a boot straight to the center of his chest, grabbing it before it fell to the floor with a laugh of surprise and then a yelp as a body quickly followed.