Go back to the fiction page

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


two worlds



~*~

 

Don't ask me, what you know is true
Don't have to tell you, I love your precious heart

I, I was standing
You were there, two worlds collided
And they could never tear us apart

We could live for a thousand years
But if I hurt you I'd make wine from your tears
I told you that we could fly
'Cause we all have wings but some of us don't know why

I, I was standing
You were there, two worlds collided
And they could never ever tear us apart

I (don't ask me) I was standing (you know is true)
You were there (worlds collided) two worlds collided (we're shining through)
And they could never tear us apart

You (don't ask me) you were standing (you know is true)
I was there (worlds collided) two worlds collided (we're shining through)
And they could never tear us apart

I, I was standing, you were there

 

 

"Come on, Jimmy," Lou teased as she tossed another bag over the tethered, saddled horse.  "There's worse things that you could have to do than have to go on an overnight ride with Buck."

 

"Like what?  Go down to Doc Green and have a tooth yanked?"  Jimmy Hickok retorted with a roll of his eyes as he finished his preparations, leaning back and waiting for his companion to emerge from the station.

 

"I'm sure he'll appreciate that sentiment," Lou chuckled, adjusting her glasses, then her hat. 

 

"But Cody likes this sort of thing!  Why don't you send him?"  Jimmy began to protest, when Teaspoon interrupted him from the porch.

 

"Yeah, and you're starting to sound like Cody, with all that whining," he drawled.  "We still got mail to send, and Cody's riding in the opposite direction, so you can just get rid of that idea.  I just don't want Buck going out there alone with all the trouble being stirred up out there.  Word has it the Dog Soldiers been real protective of the Kiowa camp lately, what with all the conflicts they're having with the settlers staking claims out on the land."

 

Lou nodded.  "And because of that, the settlers are all up in arms, shooting at anything that looks darker than they are."  She sighed and shook her head.  "And of course, the Kiowa might not be all that happy to see Buck anyhow."

 

"I know, Lou," Teaspoon sighed.  "He's stuck between a rock and a hard place.  But my pal Edwards thinks that if they'll let anyone convince them this is a good idea, it's Buck.  All he's got to do is give them the documents the Army drew up, convince them to give it a shot, and go.  See, Jimmy?  You ain't even going to be there long.  But I don't trust nobody's hand better than you, and I need people I can trust for this."

 

Jimmy nodded sullenly; even Teaspoon's off-handed comment didn't improve his demeanor about the mission at hand.  Twenty-four hours, perhaps more, alone with Buck was not something he was looking forward to.  He was already starting to grow uncomfortable at the mere prospect.  "I don't see what it is that's such a big deal that they can't just send one of their men to bring it.  They've done it before."

 

"Don't ask me, Jimmy," Teaspoon said with a sigh.  "He just asked if Buck would deliver the proposals.  The Army wants to build a fort, but it would be on land that's crossed by one of their main travel routes, so they want to set up a meeting.   Edwards thought somehow they'd take it better hearing it from him, since he's part Kiowa."

 

"Is that all they know?" Lou asked, slightly frowning.  "There's more to him than just some Kiowa blood.  They might not be willing to even listen to him, if they're feeling hostile as everyone says they've been."

 

"All the more reason for Jimmy to go with him," Teaspoon reiterated, heaving a long-suffering sigh.

 

"Can't they build a fort somewhere else?" Jimmy interrupted, momentarily forgetting his self-deluded aversion to the Kiowa, his true feelings showing through.  "I mean, there's enough land out here in the territories."

 

"Jimmy."  Teaspoon enunciated his name, the scowl under his bowler brokering no further argument.  "It ain't our place to choose what the Army does and doesn't do.  All I know is I got a friend who asked for help, and we're giving it.  So, you are going to the Kiowa camp with Buck.  You are going with him to bring these papers.  And most of all, you are not going to argue any more."

 

"I didn't even think they could read," Jimmy muttered, knowing that was the pot calling the kettle black, but not caring.  He turned away, sulking like a child and well aware he was doing so.

 

"Jimmy!"  Lou took her hat off, slapping Jimmy on the side of the head with it.  "I haven't ever heard talk like that come out of you!  Since when have you ever had a problem with the Kiowa, or any Indian folk, for that matter?  I'd think you'd be glad to help stop all this fighting anyhow!"

 

"Well, since.  It's not that I don't like.  I just don't want to."  Jimmy stammered, slightly at a loss.  He couldn't think of a good reason, or a genuine problem he did have with the Kiowa.  His problem was in having to go to the Kiowa with Buck.

 

Lou grunted and rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

 

"I don't care what problems you think you do or don't have," Teaspoon said, stepping off the porch and handing a bag to Jimmy.  "Just get this to that camp, and get it there soon."

 

The three fell silent when the subject of their conversation appeared in the doorway, giving each of them a look that seemed to say he had heard everything that had been said.  Lou cleared her throat and toed at the dirt, quickly wishing both men a safe ride and disappearing around to the back.

 

"Ready?" Buck asked Jimmy, raising an eyebrow - a look that said he could read quite plainly the disdain with which he held their errand.

 

"Ready to get it over with," Jimmy replied, mounting up.  Buck followed suit, and they turned east, quickly urging their horses into a gallop.  Jimmy was anxious to get this over with - the sooner they got back, the sooner he could win back the twenty dollars he had lost the previous night at poker.  He preferred the cluttered chaos of the saloon any day to the eerie silence and order of an Indian camp.  At least, they all seemed that way to him - he remembered vividly the hush that would seem to fall over a camp whenever they would come into sight.  It made him feel uncomfortable, as though he had no right come and intrude upon their lives.  The prospect of such discomfort, combined with the unnerving effect of Buck's companionship, did nothing to improve his demeanor.

 

Jimmy tended to lose focus of his surroundings when he rode, not really seeing the clouds, the trees, and the passing landscape, but more retreating into his own mind.  He turned over the series of events at the poker game that had cost him such a precious sum of money; he chastised himself for not eating another helping of stew when he'd had the chance; he wondered why Teaspoon had been so adamant that he go with Buck; he wondered why Lou felt it her duty to give her every opinion and analysis of his feelings and reactions, as though she were a mind-reader or a psychologist; he wondered why he was so fascinated by Buck, but at the same time wanted nothing to do with him.  As his thoughts traveled to the subject of Buck, he suddenly found the clouds, trees, and occasional animals to be much more favorable occupants for his mind.

 

Eventually they had to slow their pace to ford a stream, and Buck rode up beside Jimmy for the first time.  He had silently followed several yards behind Jimmy for the entire trip, and now as their horses drank and rested, Jimmy found himself watching Buck, but not as he watched a passing landmark - he commanded Jimmy's full attention.  They were often together at the station house, but rarely ever together alone.  He knew quite a bit about Buck, but it wasn't first hand.  He heard a lot of stories from Cody about various things they had done together as a group, especially the horseback riding tricks or knife-throwing competitions that Buck always seemed to win.  He also knew that when he wasn't fooling around with Cody, Buck spent most of his time with Ike, or alone doing God-knew-what.  Jimmy usually had too many other things to worry about to lend a thought to what sort of strange things Buck was getting up to, although that never seemed to stop his mind from wandering to distracting thoughts of Buck at the most inopportune moments.

 

There was something disturbing about Buck Cross, something that Jimmy realized contributed to his subconscious tendency to avoid being alone with him whenever possible - besides his natural desire for space to think and breathe - and perhaps had a great deal to do with his reluctance to accept Teaspoon's charge to accompany Buck on this trip.  Buck generally had a serene peace to him that was unnerving.  He so rarely showed hatred or even anger, that when he did it was stunning and almost terrifying.  Jimmy wasn't sure whether to think of Buck as a keg of gunpowder waiting to ignite, or if he was truly as placid and calm as the prairie sky, only occasionally disturbed by storm clouds.

 

Buck's horse had drifted slightly downstream as it drank, and Buck was staring off toward the horizon, lost in contemplation and seemingly affirming Jimmy's assessment of him.  He had let his hat slip down his back, and the hot, dry prairie wind teased his dark hair into a shimmering dust devil.  His skin glowed in the strong sunlight like the warm earth itself, and Jimmy suddenly caught himself glancing for a moment into eyes as dark as coal that were regarding him curiously.  The moment he realized what he was doing, Jimmy quickly returned his attention to his horse.  Jimmy Hickok feared no man, but those eyes.  there was something in them that was not quite of man.  Only something ethereal could strike so deep.

 

"If we're going to get there by sundown, we have to pick up the pace," Jimmy said gruffly.  He urged his horse across the shallow stream, making it across without any effort.  He heard Buck splashing through just behind him, but vowed not to look back.

 

They took off again across the plain, Jimmy concentrating on anything but his companion, so much so that he found himself singing nursery rhymes he'd learned as a child to distract himself.  It passed the time, however, and he soon saw the Kiowa camp on the horizon.  Buck slowed his horse to a trot, which Jimmy did also, slowing further when two men rode out to meet them, riding bareback on twin painted horses.  Buck made a motion for Jimmy to stop, which he heeded, albeit with a slight bristle.

 

He sat back while Buck spoke to the two young men, who each looked no older than twenty.  He felt fidgety and useless, and again wondered why Teaspoon had asked him to do this, when someone like Ike could have served just as well.  They hadn't seen hide nor hair of the Dog Soldiers, and judging from the tone of the conversation, these two weren't hostile in the least.

 

"Jimmy!"

 

"What?"  Jimmy blinked, fixing Buck with a dour look.

 

"Sorry to interrupt your nap, but we have an errand to run," Buck said, and Jimmy swore there was a slight twist of a smirk to those ribbon lips of his.  Jimmy vowed that once they got out of the village, the niceties would end.  He could barely stand it.

 

"Coming," he muttered, falling in behind the two riders, who led them into the village.  Their horses were taken, and they were led to the chief's tipi, where they were welcomed graciously by the chief and elders.  Jimmy understood the motion to sit, but after that it all became another blur of apathy.  Buck gave the papers to the chief and they began to talk, heads bowed close together.  Every once in a while, a hint of hesitancy showed through in Buck's demeanor that Jimmy thought only he noticed; it was a hesitancy that belied the fact that Buck knew he was not truly one of these people, despite what the Army believed.  His countenance was one of confidence - it had to be, or Buck would receive no respect from these men - but deep down, Jimmy was well aware of the conflict that was certainly roiling within him.  Yet, Buck spoke calmly and expressively, accenting his statements with his hands, again demonstrating a well-schooled intensity that always showed through at the most inopportune moments for Jimmy.  It made him want to step outside for a breather.  He wasn't even sure how to ask for such a thing under the circumstances, and began to resent Buck all the more for making him feel trapped.

 

Finally, the group rose to their feet, apparently convinced by Buck's entreaties to consider the proposals.  They continued to talk as they emerged from the tipi, and in the somewhat better light of the setting sun, Jimmy could see the weariness on Buck's features - the visit had already taken its toll - as he walked over to saddle the horses and prepare to leave.  Buck remained behind and exchanged a few more words with the chief, then walked over to where Jimmy was standing near the horses.  "Chief Red Eagle says they will prepare someplace for us to sleep."

 

"I'm going back," Jimmy interrupted, more harshly than he intended, but rather content with the startled reaction it elicited from Buck.

 

"Going back?  We rode all day," Buck protested, frowning. 

 

"I've ridden longer," Jimmy shot back, avoiding Buck's obviously hurt expression.  "I got things to do back in Rock Creek anyhow."

 

"Refusing hospitality is a grave insult," Buck began again, although he hardly sounded surprised.

 

"Like they don't think white folk are a bunch of rude brutes anyhow."  Jimmy hadn't intended to become this combative with Buck, but he was taking more and more exception to his entire predicament, and that was considerably shortening his temper.

 

Buck's extended silence caused him to glance over at him, although he hid partially under the brim of his hat.  He was staring, slack-jawed at Jimmy, until he finally bowed his head, shaking it.  "I'll be right back," he said with a resigned sigh.

 

"Where are you."  Jimmy began, growling with irritation as Buck disappeared back into the depths of the camp.  He muttered to himself, pacing back and forth alongside his horse, gazing out onto the rapidly darkening prairie.  He knew he wouldn't get far that night - he and his horse were already exhausted from the day's ride, and travel by dark would be near impossible until the moon rose, which wouldn't be until late in the night.  Still, he preferred the isolation of the prairie to a night in close quarters with Buck at the Kiowa village.

 

Buck returned shortly, slinging two new bags over his horse.  "Come on."

 

"What?" Jimmy stammered, taken aback.

 

"I said, come on.  You wanted to go?  Let's go."  There was no mistaking the irritation in Buck's voice, and Jimmy gave no argument. 

 

He sighed, mounting his horse and muttering to himself, "You wanted to go, Hickok."

 

They trotted as they wound through women cooking dinner and minding small children playing, and as they came closer to the outskirts of camp, a group of boys bringing in horses from pasture, all of them making use of the last hours of light of the day.  As they rode, Buck came up alongside Jimmy, a position that made Jimmy decidedly uncomfortable.

 

"It wouldn't kill you to show a little respect for Kiowa tradition and culture, Jimmy."

 

"Hey, I came, didn't I?"  Jimmy retorted.

 

"You came, you pouted like a sullen child, and you basically threw our hosts' hospitality in their faces!  I doubt Teaspoon would have sent you if he'd known this was how you were going to act!"

 

"It's not as though you wanted to be here any more than I did!"

 

"Maybe not," Buck said, his voice dissolving into a few deep breaths, "But I was given a charge, I accepted it, and I performed it to the best of my ability, despite whatever personal feelings I had.  Can you say the same for yourself?"

 

"If I'm so unfit, then maybe I really shouldn't have come along, should I?  You should have told Teaspoon that before he got all high-and-mighty!  Then I wouldn't be stuck out here with you, your people, or their culture and traditions!" Jimmy snapped, going silent immediately afterward, realizing that he had said too much.  But he wasn't about to back down.

 

"Is that how you see it, Jimmy?  Are you really just like the rest of them?  I thought you knew me better than that," Buck spat, his eyes now dark as gathering storm clouds.  "They're just as much 'my people' as you are."

 

"Fine, whatever you want to call them.  I don't care whose people they are." Jimmy made a gesture over his shoulder toward the rapidly disappearing village.  At first Jimmy wasn't sure where his words were coming from; he had most certainly never spoken of such things before.  But it rapidly became clear to him that he wanted to make Buck snap.  He wanted to make him so angry that he would ride ahead and leave him in peace.  He wanted space.  He felt as though he were going to be smothered, and he hated the feeling.  He hated the loss of control - the weakness - he felt whenever he looked at Buck.  But Buck held steady, perhaps even subtly aware of what Jimmy was doing.  That thought incensed Jimmy further. 

 

 

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~*~


FEEDBACK: magicy2jai@home.com
Go back to the fiction page