Rowan '04: No Compromise

Chris grit his teeth harder. His arm was sending splinters of warning to his brain. Rippling, itching heat throbbed all the way into his neck. He narrowed his eyes, pushing back the urge to claw at it with his nails or to fall against the wall in a wave of nausea.

It was just a bullet burn.

He'd had worse.

A strong hand clamped around his arm, banding his elbow, fingers pressing his flesh just under the groove cut through it. The blood surged and his ears rang. He followed the directing hand without question.

Chris was pulled into the saloon. Vaguely the thought of 'didn't it all start here' swirled through his head then was gone, displaced when his arm was again bruised deep by the hauling fingers. He grunted low in his chest when he was spun into the wall, back meeting the rough wood with deliberate force. The fingers tightened.

"Lemme look," rasped low against his cheek.

Chris nodded. He waited - the inspection didn't even last a minute.

"You'll live."

He growled. It wasn't annoyance. It wasn't an of course. It wasn't exactly pleased and wasn't exactly a challenge, but he did know exactly what he wanted right now.

Blue eyes flashed in knowing answer, a brow curled in opposite direction to anticipatory lips. Then Chris had what remained of his senses stolen from him when he was dually assaulted - fingers wrapping right around the groove in his arm to squeeze, mouth descending to kiss him breathless.

They ground together - their lips and teeth, rattling and harsh; their bodies, shaking and sweating from the adrenaline-fueled gunfight still raging in the streets; their groins, stirring with familiar, deadly heat.

Shards of glass knocked with chanced harmlessness off Chris' cheek as the window next to them was shot through. He wrenched his mouth away, eyes blazing as he craned his neck acutely to glare askance into the street. He'd never let go of his gun so he raised it, hooked around the back that moments ago he'd been tugging towards him.

Burring, unconcerned laughter snaked against his skin. Fingers speared into the taut denim constraining his erection - fingers dug into his bullet bite. The warring sensations almost made him swoon. The warring sensations made him want to come.

"Best reload."

The warmth shrouding him moved away. He watched bullets plunk, one after the other, deftly pushed home in the spinning barrel. Then the gun was lifted with practiced flourish and flicked so the barrel snicked into place.

"You're down to two," Buck said with a wink. Then he leaned close, stole a last kiss and was gone.

Chris shook himself then cursed as he ran low through the saloon, intent on the back exit.

He rounded through the alley, heightened senses alert as he watched and listened. Intimate knowledge allowed feel alone to see his gun again full of bullets, the work completed as he stalked the middle of the dusty passageway towards the main street.

The sun pierced enough to make him squint, the grit in his eyes scraping as they closed to mere slits. Chris hunkered behind the cross-section of the sturdy corner post and the railing. He scanned the street, assessing.

Vin and Ezra were tearing their way through the bank. Chris couldn't see them, but he could hear them. Their weapons and style were unmistakable. His mouth twisted with dark, satisfied pride. Stupid sonuvabitch gang had ridden into town actually believing in the appalling notion that because they more than doubled the number of the famed Seven they had a shot at success.

He laughed. It was short and grating, almost evil.

The bank's front window smashed in a cascade of dancing light, the dead body of one of the would-be robbers landing with a dull thud and a grotesque twist against the planks. Vin's mare's leg sounded and Ezra's distinctive 'yip' lilted through the air.

Chris grinned and he nodded. He'd leave them to it.

Down the street JD was doing a marvelous job of being a sorta green, sorta nervous sheriff just trying to talk the bad guys down and into the jail. The kid was pressed against the thick wall of Potter's store, a Colt in each hand, his voice a perfect blend of tremor and authority. Random holes punctured around his form from inside the store. JD just kept talking.

Chris' eyes sought for and found Josiah and Nathan. The two were running fast and low for the back of the store. They'd be bursting in from behind in a matter of minutes - JD keeping the idiots busy looking front and wasting ammo. He knew as soon as the two punched in from out back the men in that store would be rudely introduced to the true nature of the sheriff of this here town.

A short nod and he dismissed them as well, trusting the situation to be well in hand.

Almost directly across from him Chris watched three men whispering conspiratorially as they moved towards the livery. He turned enough so his periphery could track them, eyes searing ahead to divine their intent.

Buck's lanky form had just ducked back within the shadow of the livery. A man within a cluster of four who were staging a shootout with the seemingly pinned peacekeeper was newly down. He'd never get up again.

Chris sneered, then every human apprehension he may have possessed evaporated to nil.

Brazenly he strode into the street, not careless to become an instant target, not so worried to actually bother with hiding himself as he advanced. Chris whistled through his teeth. The sound was thready, nearly carried away on the rising breeze, but it was enough.

His arm tensed all the way to his fingertips. The action tweaked the muscles that had been cut by the bullet but Chris didn't even pause to notice. Already the three men approaching Buck's position had changed direction, each swiveling to lower into the ground, their guns rising to aim at his approach.

The first man went down so fast Chris hadn't even realized he'd flinched around his trigger. He shifted, the heel of his right boot digging deep, left foot a pivot. His hips flipped, pelvis lowering as his thigh bore the brunt of his changing stance. Shots flew at him only to land fallow, embedded in the street and the safety of the railing he'd emerged from. One grazed tight, nicking the trailing edge of his duster to set the hem twirling.

Chris scowled, his left hand cupping over his right to steady his wheeling aim as he spun in place. He watched the eyes of the man he was gunning for; a breath in that he held then silence as his finger gentled around the trigger. The eyes widened then soured. Chris looked away before they casted lifeless.

Two down.

The third man was scuffling backwards, body a frantic crawl impeded by the gun he wouldn't relinquish. Chris bore in, relentless. He stepped up onto the boardwalk, one foot planted, the other opening wide so he loomed over his prey. He paused, eyes daring the man to do something with the skinned weapon. He paused, merciful absolution his fleeting offering.

The hand holding the snub revolver curled. The shoulder, likely aching, was pulled in to anchor against the trapped recline of this dirty bit of human lawlessness. Then the watery gray eyes hardened to a fine point, their focus the center of Chris' chest.

Chris didn't wait longer.

Jagged lips burst between those gray eyes, gaping to open as the eyes glossed over, locked eternal in disbelief and shock.

He knew a heartbeat of regret. Not for killing the man, rather for being forced to rescind his genuine offer to let the man live had he just not been fool enough to test him. The lament was easily quelled. He didn't have the luxury of time to consider it further; he wouldn't have cared enough to do so if he had.

Chris shouldered into the wall, quick steps taking him to a prime location for cover and firing position on the three still pestering Buck. He crouched low, rolling forward onto the balls of his feet. His left hand lifted, palm flattening into the hitching post, elbow locking to brace his body. He tucked his head against the post and leveled his weapon, the whole of the town fading to nothing, eclipsed by the men he and Buck now had ensnared in a crossfire.

It didn't take long and Chris was running into the livery. The gun trained at him didn't even slow his pace. He just smiled at it, eyes flitting up to then smile at the owner. He cornered Buck and kept on walking, moving until there was no space between them, no space between his lover and the boards of the stall.

"That was a mite close," he taunted.

Chris straddled one leg and jammed his knee into Buck's crotch. He pushed forward and up on his back foot, the movement rolling his trapped knee against the rigid excitement it found.

"Damn good thing I happened to be around." Chris laughed and licked his teeth then dove in to demand a kiss.

There was no hesitation in Buck's answering of his need. A masterful tongue found its way almost down his throat - if Chris hadn't been so used to this he'd likely have been overcome. Instead he growled and surged harder, kissed harder, pressed harder.

Buck's free hand wriggled between them, blunt knuckles grinding over his cock, pulling an urgent grunt from his chest. Chris rocked back and forth, hitching himself against the delicious pressure. He landed his gun back in its holster on the first attempt then both hands grabbed hold of Buck so he could hasten their movements and their kiss.

He would like to have unhinged his jaw, angled in and swallowed Buck whole. Better still lowered down and taken something else in whole. But considering their town was still afflicted that'd have to keep. For a while anyway. He started to push away then froze.

"Shit. Would you look at that. Just damn figures ya'll boys are funny up here. Bet ya both really do have the hard asses everyone says ya do." A coarse laughed sniggered. "Might not though besides. Could be they're both wet and soft after all fuckin' ya take from the others of ya in your little band."

Chris' lips pulled to a thin line of displeasure. His glare burned a hole through the air hovering above Buck's shoulder. Then his eyes flashed with malicious, salacious devilment. He tilted his head and lowered close, kissing and nipping a meandering path up the neck he had been tucked against, tracing the strong jaw with his lips, righting so he could circle the corner of Buck's mouth with his tongue. Despite his control he shuddered. Getting caught had only upped his accelerated arousal.

Buck's hand teased his groin then trailed around his waist to cup his unquestionably hard ass.

He moved forward lazily in a loose circle. It felt good but it was also with cunningly purposeful intent.

"Aw shit… for fuck's sake. This is sick... that's sick. Ya both damn deserve this."

Chris heard the hammer cock back into place. He could feel the man moving behind him, sensed the trained barrel of the gun about to take their lives.

He wasn't in the least concerned.

As soon as his undulation had him safely cleared to Buck's left side a shot reverberated through the enshrouded interior of the livery stall. Chris opened his mouth and bit into the flesh he'd been licking, the sound of Buck's mustache crunching lightly between his teeth tickling his ears. He reared back and scowled.

"You just put a hole in my coat."

Blue eyes twinkled. "Never knew you were interested in showing off."

Chris huffed but didn't deny. The arm wrapped around him swept him close, crushing the breath from his lungs.

"I like that, Pard," ticked huskily to break on his skin then seep into his pores.

They kissed, bruising one another with their abandon.

Suddenly the heat and support about him let go. Chris dropped back to the ground. His brow arched and he glared.

"Let's not make it a habit though, Chris. Won't always have the quick out from under explaining ourselves as we did today." Buck winked. "Best reload," he echoed from before.

Then he was backing out of the stall and with a last look was gone.

Chris set his jaw and stalked after him.

The street was littered with felled members of the gang. Potter's store was hanging wide open, obvious signs of a struggle spilled out onto the walkway in front of the door and busted windows. It was quiet now, though. JD's diversion and subsequent assault had evidently worked.

The bank was in no better shape. Chris thought about the fuss that was going to be pitched at the damage and repair costs, but he invariably had the best answer to shut everyone up. A few windows were less expensive than losing the contents of the vault or the goods on the shelves.

Or the proprietors' lives.

He and Buck were shoulder to shoulder, walking down the middle of the street towards the bank. They watched Ezra emerge from the abused building, Remington drawn. Two men followed, cowed to defensive, weaponless postures as they marched towards the jail. Vin was at their backs, mare's leg aimed true.

Chris began to tally. The three in the street. The four - no, five - he and Buck got in the livery. Likely a good number from the bank and add in the two live ones… he estimated what JD and the others had managed at the store and came up with only one left. Two at the most.

The report of a single shot ricocheted down the street, chasing along the buildings and the dirt. Instinctively Chris lowered his body as he lifted his gun.

"On the roof! I've got him!"

JD's voice, steady and sure.

"This side - we've got him surrounded!"

Nathan.

"C'mon down now before we just have to kill you."

Josiah's booming baritone.

Chris glanced over at Buck and he tightened his jaw until it hurt. He decided to leave the last man to the others.

He shoved his gun into its holster and latched onto a shoulder, just below the new, ragged hole in the plaid flannel. His fingers dug in and he yanked Buck after him, waiting a half step so he could push the taller form into the shadowed alleyway, could push the taller form into the ground.

Buck oofed and Chris fell on top of him. He wrenched with his other hand, twisting Buck until shoulders rested against the side of the building. He sketched a cursory inspection of the wound then wrapped his hand around it as hard as he could. His eyes narrowed.

He let both hands slide up shoulders, up the long column of neck, against cheeks and into thick hair. He held firm and swooped down for a crushing kiss.

Buck's hips jerked erratically into his abdomen, the powerful thighs straining as they sought. Their mouths slurped when they opened apart to suck in oxygen. Chris pulled in one breath then drove right back in. He demanded and Buck answered; Buck demanded and Chris answered.

His hands left their stranglehold, swirling down the dirt and sweat and heat of Buck, narrowing with purpose at the trim waist. Swift movements and he had the belt and the fly undone, then he had Buck's begging need revealed to his greedy attentions.

Chris fell forward to kneel. He cupped the firm ass and guided it to sit on his bent legs. Then a look up into hooded blue eyes and a swipe of his tongue and he took all of Buck in a sure, single swallow.

Buck surged and he allowed it, opening himself and tamping down the triggered gagging that accompanied the strong thrusts against the back of his throat. Chris didn't want it to take long. It couldn't take long.

He pushed down the back of Buck's pants, fingers spreading to force between the clenched cheeks. He used his thumb and three fingers to keep them parted in a widened splay; his middle finger slid with a single dry push deep into Buck's center.

Buck hissed then thrashed, his movements nearly choking Chris. He sucked harder, bobbed his head faster and pushed his finger further.

A leashed yowl then Buck came, beautiful and unrestrained, the long body humping wildly before tensing to stillness then disintegrating into Chris' arms.

He held tight, freeing his finger then his hand so both arms could clutch Buck to him.

"You'll live," he growled huskily.

There was silence then, binding them to one another with the surety of time.

A few moments later Buck inched away enough to smile, the broad lips concealing a low purr. Blue eyes flashed with smoky intent. Hands circled Chris wrists and his breath caught on a low hiccup, somewhere between demand and beg.

"You two okay?"

Chris' lips twisted. He spun his hand, turning it into Buck's palm. Their fingers caught then caressed then danced away. He eased into a stand and pivoted on a foot, his long coat covering Buck's exposed state.

"We're fine, Nate. Thanks." Chris would have happily had this conversation in another five minutes. He worked like hell not to take that out on Nathan.

Dark eyes narrowed. "Then get out here and help us clean up this mess." Nathan's distinctive features hardened. "Then you're both letting me have a look at you - and only then can you get back to it. Get me?"

Chris knew arguing would be futile. Always better to just get patched up straight away. Otherwise the no-compunction healer would burst in on them later in their room, ready with bandages and an acerbic, tolerantly disdainful smile. He pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded.

"Yeah, we're coming," he bit out. He looked up and met Nathan's waiting gaze, letting his acknowledgement and agreement show in his eyes. The man nodded and turned back towards the street.

Warm laughter rolled over his shoulder.

The shiver of a kiss wet the skin behind his ear and Buck whispered, "You'll live."

End