TITLE: TWO WORLDS COLLIDED
AUTHOR: Jai Marie
GENRE: Slash
RATING: NC-17 slash (m/m); angst; graphic m/m sex (somewhat forced)
FEEDBACK: magicy2jai@home.com
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Young Riders or the characters of Buck and Jimmy.
DISCLAIMER II: The lyrics to "Never Tear Us Apart" by INXS used without permission.
THANKS: Thanks to Melanie for being such a thorough and patient beta!!
SUMMARY: Differences and emotions flare when Buck and Jimmy have to run an errand together -- but there is more to the conflict than meets the eye...
ARCHIVE: My website, www.free-joy.net
Suddenly, Buck slowed his horse to barely a walk, reaching
into his holster and slowly drawing his pistol. Reflexively, Jimmy did
the same, although he wasn't sure what Buck had seen. He was peering into
a shadowy stand of trees and brush to the right. Jimmy soon heard quiet
sounds - indistinguishable voices and other sounds that he couldn't quite
define, although they sounded strangely familiar.
Buck didn't move, but curiosity got the better of Jimmy, so he rode forward to
investigate, his pistol still drawn. As he drew closer, he caught sight
of two people lying under a tree: they were the Kiowa who had greeted
them upon their arrival to the camp. However, to Jimmy's surprise, they
were in a heated embrace, both completely nude, and both so involved in one
another that they did not notice their observers.
"Jimmy!" Buck hissed, riding up behind him. "Get away from
them!"
Jimmy heeded him, heading back on the path, almost smug. "Another
Kiowa tradition?" he snickered as they headed out of the limits of the
village and toward the open prairie. Buck was silent, so Jimmy continued
to mock him. "The Kiowa culture is all about love for their
brothers," he mock-recited, glancing over at Buck. The prairie was
now dimly lit by the setting sun, the long shadows cast by the occasional tree
or building all blending into each other to cast a permanent shade on the
earth. He felt compelled - almost forced - to continue his taunting.
"Is that a proud tradition you take part in as well, Buck?" He
still received no response, so he rode on, satisfied that he had finally found
something that seemed to be working.
He truly had no reason to talk - he had been with many men, on many occasions,
some of which included their fellow riders - but it seemed to strike a nerve
with Buck, so he continued to press on. "So maybe it could be said
the Kiowa are better at loving than fighting?"
Still, no response.
Smug with victory, Jimmy trotted behind Buck for thirty or so more minutes,
until the darkness finally made it impossible to see. They stopped near
another stand of trees to rest until the moon rose high enough for them to
continue, tethering the horses and gathering wood for a fire. To Jimmy's
relief, Buck kept well away from him, avoiding all eye contact or
conversation. He finally felt some of that horrible, aching pressure
inside him begin to subside.
The fire was soon roaring, and they each sat on opposite sides, eating in
silence the meal that had been in the bags given to Buck by the Kiowa
chief. Every once in a while, Jimmy would sneak a look through the flames
to Buck to try to read his expression, but Buck kept his head bowed, face
hidden in shadows. A small part of his conscience clamored for him to
apologize to Buck - he knew that Buck knew of his activities with other men,
and he was beginning to think that the only thing worse than the discomfort of
Buck's nearness and intensity was the thought of being a hypocrite.
Before he got a chance to say anything, however, Buck stood from the fire,
pulling his bedroll from the back of his saddle and laying it out, reclining
and leaning his head against the saddle as a pillow, exhaling with a sigh loud
enough to be heard over the crackle of embers and the sounds of night on the
prairie. Jimmy sighed as well, resigned to the fact that he had behaved
badly but that there was nothing to be done. He prepared for bed as well,
listening to the crackle and pop of the campfire as he settled down. He
knew that Buck's people would sometimes gaze into fire for answers from above
to perplexing questions when they could not find solutions anywhere else.
Exhaustion overwhelmed Jimmy's mind and body as he desperately searched the
flames for an answer, though he couldn't even admit to himself the question.
~*~
A quiet sound startled Jimmy from his light, uneasy slumber. He
instinctively reached for his gun, which he always kept next to his head, and
his heart slammed into his throat when he discovered it was gone. He shot
upward, but was restrained, a mouth roughly descending upon his. The kiss
was fierce and demanding, and in his half-asleep state, Jimmy was powerless to
fight it. It tasted of jerky and coffee, and had an intermingled wild,
exotic taste that Jimmy had never in his life experienced. It was that
thought, and the full return of consciousness that made Jimmy realize that it
was Buck who was kissing him, and it was Buck who was straddling his body,
pinning him down.
"Buck," Jimmy gasped, eyes wide and heart racing, although the
emotion causing the reaction was one he couldn't quite name. "My
gun."
"What, you think I was going to let you shoot me?" Buck asked with a
husky chuckle.
"What are you doing?" Jimmy tried to struggle out from under
Buck, but his predicament made doing so impossible.
"Teaching you a little about Kiowa culture and tradition."
Buck's voice was laced with sarcasm, but it also had that soft, unnervingly
throaty tone that set Jimmy's nerves completely on end and did things to his
senses that he could neither explain nor bear.
"What the hell." Jimmy sputtered, but his words were cut off
again by another kiss, aggressive and passionate. Buck's tongue snaked
into Jimmy's mouth, which was still open from his protest. It teased
along the ridges of the roof of his mouth and his teeth, finally stroking along
Jimmy's tongue, demanding a response. Jimmy wanted to curse Buck for
doing this to him, making him feel incredibly weak, but all he could do was
return the kiss. He moaned, sucking on Buck's tongue and receiving a
growl of approval.
Just as suddenly as it began, the kiss was broken, and Buck sat up, working
Jimmy's belt buckle with quick, precise movements, unbuttoning the front and
yanking his trousers down around his hips. Jimmy gasped, trying to shove
Buck away as his erection sprang from its confines, the foreskin completely
pushed back, head glistening with moisture. Jimmy turned his head, unable
to look at the obvious evidence of what exactly it was that Buck did to him, but
when he did so, his eyes met Buck's. The firelight glinted off the stormy
depths of Buck's eyes like flashes of lightning, and the sight made Jimmy's
very soul tremble. His cock surged again, taking his breath away.
He screwed his eyes shut, thinking this must be some strange dream.
The unmistakable sensation of skin on skin quashed any thoughts of dreams,
however, and Jimmy's eyes flew open again, only to find Buck's face mere inches
from his. Buck shifted his hips, and his shaft rubbed against the full
length of Jimmy's shaft, drawing another growl from Buck. "You like
that?" Buck whispered, leaning over and licking Jimmy's ear.
"You like feeling the way us 'savages' do?"
"Buck, don't."
"Just like earlier, your actions speak a lot louder than your words,"
Buck replied, reaching between them and wrapping his hand around Jimmy's
shaft. Jimmy almost wept with the force and power of Buck's touch, hating
the feeling of giving up control, yet he couldn't find it in him to force Buck
to stop. He knew he could. if he truly wanted .
Buck captured his lips once more, biting into his lower lip and sucking on it
for a moment, tugging on it as he pulled away, and then leaning down and
capturing with his teeth a nipple that was prominently showing through his
shirt. Jimmy's moans and cries became more audible the further down
Buck's mouth teased, until he flicked his tongue briefly over the exposed head
of his cock. He then pulled fully away, moving his body from on top of
Jimmy's. Jimmy's body mourned the loss of the heat and the weight, and he
had to stifle a moan of protest before it escaped and betrayed him even more
than his body already had.
But it wasn't over. Buck laced his fingers in Jimmy's hair, pulling him
to his knees and pushing his face down toward his groin. It was at this
point that Jimmy got his first look at Buck's erection. It was
formidable: thick, proud, and beautifully formed. He knew what was
expected of him, and hesitated. In his many dealings with men, he had
never taken a man's cock in his mouth - his lovers were more than eager to take
his, especially since he was always the one who controlled the
encounters. Jimmy was not often - if ever - coerced into anything, but
Buck's uncharacteristic forcefulness left him not only at a loss; it left him
virtually submissive. It was not a situation Jimmy relished, despite the
strange thrill he got each time Buck spoke or touched him.
Obviously sensing his hesitation, Buck whispered, his voice steady and heated,
"It will make things much easier if you do it, Jimmy. Trust
me."
Those words sent a tremor through Jimmy, and after everything else Buck had
done to him already, he believed him. There was nothing he could do but
comply. He slowly wrapped his mouth around the swollen head, taking it
carefully. He only managed to get half in his mouth before he had to
withdraw, but the wetness of his mouth combined with the wetness seeping from
Buck's cock made each movement easier.
Buck grunted his approval, resting a hand on his head. "Get it nice
and wet," he whispered, and Jimmy complied, now having a strong feeling
what fate awaited him. The thought both thrilled him and filled him with
hesitation. After tonight, neither of them would be the same, but there
was no stopping now.
He was left to his task for several moments, Buck's hand an ever-present
pressure on the back of his head as he bobbed up and down. Occasionally,
Buck would tangle his fingers further into Jimmy's hair, or make a soft noise
deep in his throat. Finally he pulled Jimmy away, gazing down at him with
a smirk. Without ceremony, he walked around him, still holding onto a
fistful of hair, and pushed Jimmy face-down to the ground.
Jimmy's heart was pounding, and he braced himself for what was to come.
The way he was positioned, his face was pressed into the dry grass rather than
onto the somewhat-forgiving material of the bedroll. The grass tickled
and chafed his face, and he struggled futilely to move his head. That annoyance
was soon forgotten, however, when a warm, wet, insistent sensation became the
sole focus of every sense Jimmy had.
"Buck! What the." he gasped, jerking around to see what
was happening. Buck held his hips steady, refusing him leeway to move,
and Jimmy felt the sensation again, realizing quickly that it was Buck's
tongue. He was shocked, but hardly scandalized, instead sinking once more
onto the bedroll and trying to relax, focusing on the feelings. Buck was
not gentle, but there was a certain care that still came through with his every
movement that heightened Jimmy's senses and relaxed him to the point where
there was virtually no discomfort when he was finally breached by Buck's
fingers.
Jimmy grunted softly, gritting his teeth more at the pressure than from any
pain - Buck had forgone using a single finger and was slowly working two into
him - and clutched a handful of the bedroll, determined not to give Buck the
satisfaction of hearing him. He was no more certain as to why this was
happening now than when it began, but he vowed to make the best of it and
demand answers later. The biggest question he wanted answered was of
himself: why was it that he let Buck take him so easily? No man
could get the jump on James Butler Hickok. Not like Buck had.
He knew the answer. But just as he refused to cry out with the heady
pleasure of being penetrated by Buck, he refused to admit the answer to
himself.
Jimmy grabbed a mouthful of rough material in his mouth, biting it to keep from
screaming as he was slowly impaled, Buck's harsh breaths filling his ears and
seeming to match the hammering of his heart. Everything seemed to speed
up and blur together after the agonizingly measured pace of the penetration,
the world exploding before Jimmy in a flash of red, then white as sparks
coursed through his body. He was vaguely aware of the sound of slapping
flesh and the distant sound of soft moans, realizing too late that they were
his own.
With a snarl, Buck buried himself once more to the hilt, and Jimmy could feel
his shaft twitching deep inside of him and the wet warmth of his release.
Every nerve was on edge, and he waited, teetering on the edge of his own
climax, wondering if Buck would try to make some further statement - whatever
it may be - and leave him in such a state.
Another explosion of feeling told him his fears were unwarranted, as Buck's
calloused hand wrapped around him, quickly and skillfully pushing him over the
edge. Every muscle in Jimmy's body tensed, then exploded in a burst of
energy as he shot hard and long, quaking with the exertion of it. Buck's
movements did not cease until Jimmy was completely spent and trembling.
Jimmy did not move when Buck withdrew, nor did he dare to lay eyes upon him
when he heard him walk toward the other side of the fire, where his things
were. After several moments to collect himself, he rose to his knees,
fixing his clothing as best he could while shaking. He finally spared a
glance across the dying flames to Buck, waiting for the inevitable gloating to
begin.
He was surprised to find Buck already bedded down, his back turned to him, as
though nothing had happened. This outraged him even more, and he shot to
his feet, wincing with discomfort and wobbling for a moment until he regained
his balance, and then he stormed around the fire, kicking Buck square in the
back.
"Hey!" Buck coughed, jumping to his feet, noticeably wobbly
himself. "Mind explaining yourself?"
"Me? Explain myself?" Jimmy was incredulous. "Would
you mind explaining what the hell just happened over there?"
Buck glanced away, muttering darkly, "Giving you an appreciation of Kiowa
culture at its finest."
Jimmy frowned. He wasn't certain what the tone of Buck's voice meant, but
it was obvious that the answer wasn't as straightforward as it sounded.
"So that's your retaliation because I didn't appreciate your
culture? You think that's going to make me appreciate it? Make me
eager to come back? Maybe ride another mission like this with you?
That's ridiculous!" Jimmy found himself swaying unsteadily on his
feet, his anger keeping him focused and from slipping back into the
overwhelmingly intense memory of what had just happened to him.
"You're right," Buck said quietly. "It is
ridiculous."
Jimmy stopped short. "You're making no sense, Buck." He
wasn't sure whether he wanted to pound the hell out of him, or grab him and
kiss him again until he split his lip.
"Now I know what it feels like to be you then, Jimmy," Buck said
wryly, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Because you haven't made sense from the moment I met you."
"And why should I make sense to you one way or the other?" Jimmy
retorted. "Why should you care?" He felt as though Buck's
questions were hitting too close to his heart, yet he couldn't explain why.
"Yes, indeed," Buck said bemusedly. "Why should
I?" He chuckled. "Why indeed?"
Jimmy snarled with frustration, furious and wondering what sort of mind game
Buck thought he was playing. He stormed back over to his bedroll, staring
down in disgust at the pool of wetness that had soaked the whole middle of the
thing. He grabbed up his thin blanket, scanning around for someplace that
looked mildly comfortable enough to sit to at least nap.
"Jimmy."
With a growl, he snapped his attention back to Buck, whose expression was
almost contrite. "Sleep over here." He motioned to his
blanket, which was folded over several times and laid parallel to his bedroll.
"And how do you expect to stay warm?" Jimmy asked, his head hurting,
thoroughly confused by Buck's strange actions and changes of mood.
"There is more to those 'Kiowa customs' than the carnal," Buck
replied, his countenance now regretful. "It shames me that you might
think so."
"What the devil are you talking about?" Jimmy wondered if that
was truly an attempt by Buck to apologize, without quite doing so.
"Are you mad?"
"Maybe that's what you can call it," Buck said, looking up at
him. His eyes were now lit by the glowing embers, and while the danger in
them was gone, something still lingered that was just as intense. Jimmy
fought the tremor that coursed through him when he saw them, but slowly lowered
himself onto the blanket, stiffly laying down. He was still sore from
Buck's use, not to mention the incredible tensions that had been plaguing him
since the beginning of the journey.
He heard Buck lay down as well, and his body was so close that he was acutely
aware of the warmth radiating from him. The prairie night was chilly, and
with the blankets serving as bedding to protect him against the rocks and
uncomfortable grass, the chill mercilessly descended upon Jimmy. The
inviting warmth of Buck's body beckoned him, and he hesitantly moved back, only
to feel Buck move closer as well, until his body was pressed against the
contours of Jimmy's backside.
Their combined warmth sent a new shiver through Jimmy's body, and he felt his
body betray him once more, relaxing and molding to Buck's form; all of his
carefully crafted and harshly guarded resistances to Buck had been destroyed
earlier. This was close, warm, and frighteningly comfortable. Jimmy
was unable to deny the reality that he had diligently and violently fought
against ever since he had first laid eyes on Buck - being with him felt as good
as he had often dreamed it would.
So Buck's won, Jimmy thought with a bitter chuckle. He had proven Jimmy
Hickok to be weak and susceptible to even the charms of a man who was trapped
between two worlds in a struggle of confusion much like the one Jimmy himself
often felt; a half-breed whose intensity, intelligence, passion, skill, and
empathy had captivated him in such a paralyzing way that the only thing he
could do to try and defend his vulnerable heart was to rail against the threat
those feelings caused. Buck slowly draped his arm around Jimmy's middle,
and Jimmy allowed it with a sigh, pressing back and feeling Buck's breath
tickle against his ear. There was no telling what would become of him,
now that his greatest weakness had been exploited.
He was a defeated man.
~*~THE END~*~