Original: "Pony Up." Slash
Holy cow, it's been hard to finish anything this quarter. This took way longer to write than it should've, and there were way too many things I started and stalled out on between the last snuggle I managed to finish.
Anyway, here have cowboys. *shove*
And no, they will not be getting their own story. I am not shipping them. I do not like them. They would not be fsking adorable together.
Summary: Cooper's not sure he's the marrying type, but if Zach's dumb enough to have him, he just might be.
“Cowboys weren’t meant to get married and settle down,” Cooper complained gruffly.
Rusty rolled his eyes, smacking his hands away to fix the bowtie Cooper had somehow been conned into wearing. “Seriously, Coop. I’ve known you and Zach for years. If any of us are meant for wraparound porches and little booted feet and that other rot, it’s the two of you.”
Cooper snorted, but he couldn’t stop a smile from tugging his lips up at the corners. Rusty had been his best friend for years and had been anything less than a straight shooter. If he said it, it was probably so. Cooper’s gut still twisted in on itself though. Zach might be a cattle driver now, but everyone in these parts knew he could have taken over the parish church if he’d wanted it, instead of relinquishing it to his youngest brother. Small towns didn’t forget a thing like that and there were still folks who wouldn’t let Cooper forget that he had been little more than a no-name bastard of a rough rider when he’d come to town and that’s how he’s be seen forevermore.
In the darkest hours of the morning on a drive, when he knew Zach couldn’t see him, he sometimes wondered if maybe they didn’t have a point. Cooper’d always been rough around the edges; it was just how he was. And he’d been fine with that - made peace - because he figured that’s how all cowboys were.
This damn town, though, had turned everything on its ear and left him reeling, kept afloat largely by Rusty’s friendship - until he’d met Zach and suddenly found that he could fly. Only in the safety of that darkness had he ever admitted that he found himself thinking Zach might be able to fly higher without him.
A flask was shoved into his hands unceremoniously and he kept from dropping it more out of reflex than anything else. Cooper lifted his head to blink stupidly at Rusty, earning an eye roll and a too-knowing smirk. “Honestly, Coop, you’re the easiest damn book to read. Now it seems pretty clear to me that Zach is a grown-ass man, right? So it stands to reason that if he says he’s yours and you’re his, then he’s probably made his damned mind up abut it and means to see it through.” He rolled his eyes again for good measure before continuing, “Now drink if you’re drinking, because I ain’t about to tell Zach his blushing bridegroom’s got cold feet and run off, so you’ll be making it to that altar if I’ve got to drag you there myself.”
Cooper smiled at him wanly before tipping his head back to take a healthy swig from the flask. The burn of whisky lit a path down his throat, smoothing over his nerves as it went. Rusty arched an eyebrow but said nothing as Cooper took a second pull and then handed it back to Rusty. “Guess this is it, huh?”
Rusty threw an arm over his shoulders to drag him over to the door. “Maybe stop forgetting you’re about to be the happiest guy around, you know, before you reach Zack?”
Cooper gave him a sidelong grin, the whisky warm in his belly and making him just the slightest bit loose-limbed. His grin was lopsided and he went easily as Rusty steered him toward the door of the chapel. Father Jackson had agreed to officiate and Cooper was endlessly grateful, because he doubted Zach’s father would ever invite him over for Sunday night dinner, let alone bless their union. He was one of the townsfolk who’d never let Cooper forget he’d never be worthy.
Rusty squeezed his shoulder once before stepping away, giving him a final encouraging smile and opening the door to the chapel. Cooper had a single moment of almost blind panic before it abruptly left him, replaced by something hot and satisfied that curled in his belly and mixed with the warmth of the whisky.
The minute he stepped into the doorway, Zach’s eyes locked with his, and he could no longer remember why he had ever had doubts. A fond smile tugged up the corner of Zach’s mouth, familiar creases appearing at the corners of his too-blue eyes.
Cooper didn’t remember walking down the aisle, just suddenly found himself at the altar, a few feet of air the only thing separating them. They didn’t touch, merely crowded into one another’s space, breathing each other in deeply like they hadn’t seen each other just last night.
“Your mind still made up?” Zach whispered under his breath as Jackson started in on the ceremony.
Cooper tipped his head slightly, “Course I’m sure, Z. Probably ain’t never been more sure ‘n my life. What’s eating you?”
A tiny crease appeared between Zach’s brows as he hissed, “I can smell the whisky on your breath, Coop. Look if you’re not sure about me -”
Cooper managed to hold in a snort, but there was no hiding his expression. “I may have had thoughts, Zach, but you are the one part of this thing I’ve never doubted.” He grinned conspiratorially as Jackson kept talking in the background. “’sides which, don’t think I can’t smell that red willow bark on you, so no pulling the golden preacher’s son bit. I think we both know the state of your purity.”
Zach rolled his eyes, but the line had vanished from between his eyebrows and a reluctant grin tugged at the corner of his lips. In the background, Jackson skipped over the objections bit, for which Coop was silently obliged, and swiftly it was coming up on their turns to speak. Zach’s hand found his, their calluses catching just a little.
There was a sudden silence, and Zach was biting his lip to keep from grinning as he squeezed Cooper’s hand and cut his eyes pointedly in Jackson’s direction.
Cooper flushed and turned to look at Jackson sheepishly. “I do?” he ventured. Jackson looked like he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes and he could feel Zack truing to contain a laugh.
Showing an amazing amount of restraint, Jackson just turned to Zach. Cooper tuned out most of what was being said, too busy marveling that the man standing next to him was promising to spend the rest of his life with a no-name cowboy. As if hearing his thoughts, Zach glanced at him from the corner of his eye, a soft smile curling his lips up.
“I do.” Cooper blinked, arms suddenly full of cowboy - his cowboy - grinning up at him, blue eyes bright. “I think he said you’re supposed to kiss me now,” Zack murmured, eyes crinkling in a silent laugh.
Cooper wanted to whoop and holler and laugh madly, more than sure this is exactly what flying would be like. He slung an arm around Zack’s waist, pulling him as close as he could get. “Oh, I intend to,” he promised, before closing the last few inches between them.
Anyway, here have cowboys. *shove*
And no, they will not be getting their own story. I am not shipping them. I do not like them. They would not be fsking adorable together.
Summary: Cooper's not sure he's the marrying type, but if Zach's dumb enough to have him, he just might be.
“Cowboys weren’t meant to get married and settle down,” Cooper complained gruffly.
Rusty rolled his eyes, smacking his hands away to fix the bowtie Cooper had somehow been conned into wearing. “Seriously, Coop. I’ve known you and Zach for years. If any of us are meant for wraparound porches and little booted feet and that other rot, it’s the two of you.”
Cooper snorted, but he couldn’t stop a smile from tugging his lips up at the corners. Rusty had been his best friend for years and had been anything less than a straight shooter. If he said it, it was probably so. Cooper’s gut still twisted in on itself though. Zach might be a cattle driver now, but everyone in these parts knew he could have taken over the parish church if he’d wanted it, instead of relinquishing it to his youngest brother. Small towns didn’t forget a thing like that and there were still folks who wouldn’t let Cooper forget that he had been little more than a no-name bastard of a rough rider when he’d come to town and that’s how he’s be seen forevermore.
In the darkest hours of the morning on a drive, when he knew Zach couldn’t see him, he sometimes wondered if maybe they didn’t have a point. Cooper’d always been rough around the edges; it was just how he was. And he’d been fine with that - made peace - because he figured that’s how all cowboys were.
This damn town, though, had turned everything on its ear and left him reeling, kept afloat largely by Rusty’s friendship - until he’d met Zach and suddenly found that he could fly. Only in the safety of that darkness had he ever admitted that he found himself thinking Zach might be able to fly higher without him.
A flask was shoved into his hands unceremoniously and he kept from dropping it more out of reflex than anything else. Cooper lifted his head to blink stupidly at Rusty, earning an eye roll and a too-knowing smirk. “Honestly, Coop, you’re the easiest damn book to read. Now it seems pretty clear to me that Zach is a grown-ass man, right? So it stands to reason that if he says he’s yours and you’re his, then he’s probably made his damned mind up abut it and means to see it through.” He rolled his eyes again for good measure before continuing, “Now drink if you’re drinking, because I ain’t about to tell Zach his blushing bridegroom’s got cold feet and run off, so you’ll be making it to that altar if I’ve got to drag you there myself.”
Cooper smiled at him wanly before tipping his head back to take a healthy swig from the flask. The burn of whisky lit a path down his throat, smoothing over his nerves as it went. Rusty arched an eyebrow but said nothing as Cooper took a second pull and then handed it back to Rusty. “Guess this is it, huh?”
Rusty threw an arm over his shoulders to drag him over to the door. “Maybe stop forgetting you’re about to be the happiest guy around, you know, before you reach Zack?”
Cooper gave him a sidelong grin, the whisky warm in his belly and making him just the slightest bit loose-limbed. His grin was lopsided and he went easily as Rusty steered him toward the door of the chapel. Father Jackson had agreed to officiate and Cooper was endlessly grateful, because he doubted Zach’s father would ever invite him over for Sunday night dinner, let alone bless their union. He was one of the townsfolk who’d never let Cooper forget he’d never be worthy.
Rusty squeezed his shoulder once before stepping away, giving him a final encouraging smile and opening the door to the chapel. Cooper had a single moment of almost blind panic before it abruptly left him, replaced by something hot and satisfied that curled in his belly and mixed with the warmth of the whisky.
The minute he stepped into the doorway, Zach’s eyes locked with his, and he could no longer remember why he had ever had doubts. A fond smile tugged up the corner of Zach’s mouth, familiar creases appearing at the corners of his too-blue eyes.
Cooper didn’t remember walking down the aisle, just suddenly found himself at the altar, a few feet of air the only thing separating them. They didn’t touch, merely crowded into one another’s space, breathing each other in deeply like they hadn’t seen each other just last night.
“Your mind still made up?” Zach whispered under his breath as Jackson started in on the ceremony.
Cooper tipped his head slightly, “Course I’m sure, Z. Probably ain’t never been more sure ‘n my life. What’s eating you?”
A tiny crease appeared between Zach’s brows as he hissed, “I can smell the whisky on your breath, Coop. Look if you’re not sure about me -”
Cooper managed to hold in a snort, but there was no hiding his expression. “I may have had thoughts, Zach, but you are the one part of this thing I’ve never doubted.” He grinned conspiratorially as Jackson kept talking in the background. “’sides which, don’t think I can’t smell that red willow bark on you, so no pulling the golden preacher’s son bit. I think we both know the state of your purity.”
Zach rolled his eyes, but the line had vanished from between his eyebrows and a reluctant grin tugged at the corner of his lips. In the background, Jackson skipped over the objections bit, for which Coop was silently obliged, and swiftly it was coming up on their turns to speak. Zach’s hand found his, their calluses catching just a little.
There was a sudden silence, and Zach was biting his lip to keep from grinning as he squeezed Cooper’s hand and cut his eyes pointedly in Jackson’s direction.
Cooper flushed and turned to look at Jackson sheepishly. “I do?” he ventured. Jackson looked like he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes and he could feel Zack truing to contain a laugh.
Showing an amazing amount of restraint, Jackson just turned to Zach. Cooper tuned out most of what was being said, too busy marveling that the man standing next to him was promising to spend the rest of his life with a no-name cowboy. As if hearing his thoughts, Zach glanced at him from the corner of his eye, a soft smile curling his lips up.
“I do.” Cooper blinked, arms suddenly full of cowboy - his cowboy - grinning up at him, blue eyes bright. “I think he said you’re supposed to kiss me now,” Zack murmured, eyes crinkling in a silent laugh.
Cooper wanted to whoop and holler and laugh madly, more than sure this is exactly what flying would be like. He slung an arm around Zack’s waist, pulling him as close as he could get. “Oh, I intend to,” he promised, before closing the last few inches between them.