Red Morning Light Chapter 1
Title: Red Morning Light
Author:abouliac
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon featuring Treckett
Summary: AU. Ryan, Travis and William are a gang of criminals, travelling through the Wild West, taking everything they can. When they reach Eagle Hawk they decide to rest for a few days. While propping up the bar in the local Saloon, Ryan becomes enchanted by the pianist. This chapter contains brief smut :D
Disclaimer: I own no-one, this is pretend
Author's Note: This is AU to the max, so if you don't like that, stay away. If you do, then I would love to hear your comments!
x-posted
The train rumbles steadily across the landscape, smoke billowing from its chimney. In the main carriages people are chattering, eating, drinking, playing cards, sleeping. At the rear, in the dirty open carriages holding coal, grimey sacking and tools, three men sit, trying not to think about how cold they are.
Two of them are passing a battered hipflask between them, hunched over, laughing at something the third hasn't heard. He looks out of the carriage, watching the sky flame, wishing he could walk into the fires and disappear. When he looks up the taller of the two, Travis, the one with the steel teeth he refuses to explain the origin of and the shock of wild afro hair, is undoing a sack, watching as his companion's eyes widen.
'We fuckin did it again!' he hoots, voice thick from the metal in his mouth.
'Hell yeah, I never realised it would be so easy!'
A bill flutters out of the sack, whipping in the cold evening air. Travis leaps up, bashing into the boy sat at the opening when it catches on the back of his head. He makes a swipe for it but the wind picks up again and it flutters out of the train, into the wilderness.
'Aw fuck,'
'That'll teach ya for openin that in here you moron,'
'Who are you callin a moron, ass,' he counters.
The subject of the insult, William, skinny as a rake, hair long and tangled, stands up and walks over, shoving Travis hard, watching with hands on hips as he stumbles back, landing in a mound of coal.
'You fuckin watch it Beckett,' he snarls, glugging back more of the whiskey as he clambers up, trying to dust the soot from his suede jacket.
'Or what? You need me, you think you could do this on your own?'
'I have Ryan,'
Ryan looks round when he hears his name and opens his mouth; the two men standing glaring at him, waiting for him to take their side. He shuts his mouth and frowns, running his hand through his hair, shrugging awkwardly.
'I don't wanna get involved guys,' he mutters finally.
'Pussy,' growls Travis, turning back to William, limbering up.
'Don't call him that,'
'Don't call him that,' Travis mocks, wiggling his hips and contorting his face.
William bristles and walks forward, eyebrow cocked. He pushes his hat to the back of his head, and spits out the toothpick nestled between his teeth. He pulls a shiny gun from it's holster and hands it to Ryan, who holds it out, biting his lip, worried it's about to go off in his hand.
'Safety's on you jerk,' he slurs out of the corner of his mouth, sharing a brief moment of camaraderie with Travis as they exchange a glance. Travis sighs and takes his gun out, tossing it across the carriage at Ryan, gesturing with his head for him to guard that too.
'Evens,' he states blankly.
'Let's settle this man to man then,' William purrs, taking another step forward, shoulders pushed back.
Travis rolls his eyes and pushes the sleeves of his jacket up, then lurches and pushes William hard to the ground. William glares up, reaching for his hat which tumbled off, thrusting it onto his head.
'Take that off you queer,' Travis laughs, kicking him dismissively with his boot.
'Fuck you,'
'Fuck you back,'
Ryan watches as the to-ing and fro-ing continues, wondering when the real fight is going to start. Only he knows full well that's never going to happen. The adrenaline of the job they just did will be coursing through their veins, enhanced by the cheap whiskey and cold air. There will be more half hearted scuffling, and then the real games will begin. As if scripted, Travis shoves William again, William this time staying on his feet, shoving back even harder. Insults are traded, more scuffling occurs, then they're on the floor, wrestling, all limbs and hair.
He turns away when he sees that William has Travis pinned to the floor, hand on his throat. Travis is grinning though, still struggling. With a free hand he grabs a fistful of William's hair and pulls him down. They wriggle and buck up from the floor, but now there's less venom, and if you looked closely, you'd see their lips entwined in a harsh, teeth-clashing kiss, hips jerking toward each other.
'Bastard,' Travis chokes, voice more muffled than usual. With his left hand he tugs violently at William's belt, battling to get the fastening undone, then he struggles with the buttons on the pants, eventually fighting him onto his back, knee pressing on his chest to keep him down.
Williams laughs wheezily, writhing when Travis finally exposes him, his calloused hands encasing his cock and jerking him roughly. Both their chests rise and fall dramatically, William flailing occasionally, until he cums hard and fast in Travis' hand.
Travis shakes it off, the effusion sinking quickly into the pourous chunks of coal, the remainder wiped on his pants. He rubs his sweating forehead and saunters over to Ryan, taking back his gun, watching William all the time out of the corner of his eye, seeing him wiping himself with a blackened rag, then tucking it away before slugging back the whiskey which had fallen from Travis' pocket and was resting on the floor, a glinting silver island in a sea of thick black dust. He tucks the gun safely in its holster and finds a spot on the floor, tilting his hat over his eyes and drifting to sleep. It's not long before William too is dozing, head dangling back, mouth wide open, low gutteral grumblings coming from his throat every few seconds.
Ryan pulls his knees to his chest and looks out into the desert. He wishes he could numb himself with whiskey and emotionless sex, anything to help him black out what he seems to have got himself into. But for him it's not that easy, he won't drink and the thought of letting someone touch him makes him shiver with equal parts fear and disgust. He's afraid of what he wants, so avoids everything, preferring to turn away in repulsion when Travis and William start their pathetic games.
What he knows is the way the desert is the only thing that seems to understand him. The vast, empty expanses; the dark, unknown corners in which lurk demons and ghouls, waiting to appear. He feels for the dryness, the way things seem to survive even when deprived of basic needs. How, occasionally, there will be a thing of real beauty, trying to escape through, like a flower feeding from the water of a cactus, or an amazing sunset alighting the sky with flames.
The train starts to rumble and he realises they're coming to a stop. He gets up and stretches, shuffling over to William first, shaking him until he starts, limbs spasming violently as he splutters awake. Travis is harder to stir, eventually needing to be kicked in the ribs before he wakes, eyes puffy and mouth dry.
Before it comes to a complete halt, the three of them gather their belongings: whiskey, hats, guns, stolen cash, and jump from the train, creeping into the town before the station staff can spot them. They eventually find themselves standing on the main street, all the usual sights, the general store, post office, Saloon. William and Travis nudge each other and stride towards it, Ryan looking around for a moment before following them. He notices a sign, 'Eagle Hawk'.
'Eagle Hawk,' he murmurs to himself. He likes the sound of that and trots quickly over to join the others, swallowing hard as they push into the bar.
Author:abouliac
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon featuring Treckett
Summary: AU. Ryan, Travis and William are a gang of criminals, travelling through the Wild West, taking everything they can. When they reach Eagle Hawk they decide to rest for a few days. While propping up the bar in the local Saloon, Ryan becomes enchanted by the pianist. This chapter contains brief smut :D
Disclaimer: I own no-one, this is pretend
Author's Note: This is AU to the max, so if you don't like that, stay away. If you do, then I would love to hear your comments!
x-posted
The train rumbles steadily across the landscape, smoke billowing from its chimney. In the main carriages people are chattering, eating, drinking, playing cards, sleeping. At the rear, in the dirty open carriages holding coal, grimey sacking and tools, three men sit, trying not to think about how cold they are.
Two of them are passing a battered hipflask between them, hunched over, laughing at something the third hasn't heard. He looks out of the carriage, watching the sky flame, wishing he could walk into the fires and disappear. When he looks up the taller of the two, Travis, the one with the steel teeth he refuses to explain the origin of and the shock of wild afro hair, is undoing a sack, watching as his companion's eyes widen.
'We fuckin did it again!' he hoots, voice thick from the metal in his mouth.
'Hell yeah, I never realised it would be so easy!'
A bill flutters out of the sack, whipping in the cold evening air. Travis leaps up, bashing into the boy sat at the opening when it catches on the back of his head. He makes a swipe for it but the wind picks up again and it flutters out of the train, into the wilderness.
'Aw fuck,'
'That'll teach ya for openin that in here you moron,'
'Who are you callin a moron, ass,' he counters.
The subject of the insult, William, skinny as a rake, hair long and tangled, stands up and walks over, shoving Travis hard, watching with hands on hips as he stumbles back, landing in a mound of coal.
'You fuckin watch it Beckett,' he snarls, glugging back more of the whiskey as he clambers up, trying to dust the soot from his suede jacket.
'Or what? You need me, you think you could do this on your own?'
'I have Ryan,'
Ryan looks round when he hears his name and opens his mouth; the two men standing glaring at him, waiting for him to take their side. He shuts his mouth and frowns, running his hand through his hair, shrugging awkwardly.
'I don't wanna get involved guys,' he mutters finally.
'Pussy,' growls Travis, turning back to William, limbering up.
'Don't call him that,'
'Don't call him that,' Travis mocks, wiggling his hips and contorting his face.
William bristles and walks forward, eyebrow cocked. He pushes his hat to the back of his head, and spits out the toothpick nestled between his teeth. He pulls a shiny gun from it's holster and hands it to Ryan, who holds it out, biting his lip, worried it's about to go off in his hand.
'Safety's on you jerk,' he slurs out of the corner of his mouth, sharing a brief moment of camaraderie with Travis as they exchange a glance. Travis sighs and takes his gun out, tossing it across the carriage at Ryan, gesturing with his head for him to guard that too.
'Evens,' he states blankly.
'Let's settle this man to man then,' William purrs, taking another step forward, shoulders pushed back.
Travis rolls his eyes and pushes the sleeves of his jacket up, then lurches and pushes William hard to the ground. William glares up, reaching for his hat which tumbled off, thrusting it onto his head.
'Take that off you queer,' Travis laughs, kicking him dismissively with his boot.
'Fuck you,'
'Fuck you back,'
Ryan watches as the to-ing and fro-ing continues, wondering when the real fight is going to start. Only he knows full well that's never going to happen. The adrenaline of the job they just did will be coursing through their veins, enhanced by the cheap whiskey and cold air. There will be more half hearted scuffling, and then the real games will begin. As if scripted, Travis shoves William again, William this time staying on his feet, shoving back even harder. Insults are traded, more scuffling occurs, then they're on the floor, wrestling, all limbs and hair.
He turns away when he sees that William has Travis pinned to the floor, hand on his throat. Travis is grinning though, still struggling. With a free hand he grabs a fistful of William's hair and pulls him down. They wriggle and buck up from the floor, but now there's less venom, and if you looked closely, you'd see their lips entwined in a harsh, teeth-clashing kiss, hips jerking toward each other.
'Bastard,' Travis chokes, voice more muffled than usual. With his left hand he tugs violently at William's belt, battling to get the fastening undone, then he struggles with the buttons on the pants, eventually fighting him onto his back, knee pressing on his chest to keep him down.
Williams laughs wheezily, writhing when Travis finally exposes him, his calloused hands encasing his cock and jerking him roughly. Both their chests rise and fall dramatically, William flailing occasionally, until he cums hard and fast in Travis' hand.
Travis shakes it off, the effusion sinking quickly into the pourous chunks of coal, the remainder wiped on his pants. He rubs his sweating forehead and saunters over to Ryan, taking back his gun, watching William all the time out of the corner of his eye, seeing him wiping himself with a blackened rag, then tucking it away before slugging back the whiskey which had fallen from Travis' pocket and was resting on the floor, a glinting silver island in a sea of thick black dust. He tucks the gun safely in its holster and finds a spot on the floor, tilting his hat over his eyes and drifting to sleep. It's not long before William too is dozing, head dangling back, mouth wide open, low gutteral grumblings coming from his throat every few seconds.
Ryan pulls his knees to his chest and looks out into the desert. He wishes he could numb himself with whiskey and emotionless sex, anything to help him black out what he seems to have got himself into. But for him it's not that easy, he won't drink and the thought of letting someone touch him makes him shiver with equal parts fear and disgust. He's afraid of what he wants, so avoids everything, preferring to turn away in repulsion when Travis and William start their pathetic games.
What he knows is the way the desert is the only thing that seems to understand him. The vast, empty expanses; the dark, unknown corners in which lurk demons and ghouls, waiting to appear. He feels for the dryness, the way things seem to survive even when deprived of basic needs. How, occasionally, there will be a thing of real beauty, trying to escape through, like a flower feeding from the water of a cactus, or an amazing sunset alighting the sky with flames.
The train starts to rumble and he realises they're coming to a stop. He gets up and stretches, shuffling over to William first, shaking him until he starts, limbs spasming violently as he splutters awake. Travis is harder to stir, eventually needing to be kicked in the ribs before he wakes, eyes puffy and mouth dry.
Before it comes to a complete halt, the three of them gather their belongings: whiskey, hats, guns, stolen cash, and jump from the train, creeping into the town before the station staff can spot them. They eventually find themselves standing on the main street, all the usual sights, the general store, post office, Saloon. William and Travis nudge each other and stride towards it, Ryan looking around for a moment before following them. He notices a sign, 'Eagle Hawk'.
'Eagle Hawk,' he murmurs to himself. He likes the sound of that and trots quickly over to join the others, swallowing hard as they push into the bar.