fic: GK western!AU (10/?)
Jun. 6th, 2010 10:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aeroport_artLook how fast I got this sucker out!! The funny thing about cliffhangers is, it ain't just a cliffhanger for the readers XD I couldn't stop thinking about what would happen next, haha. Totally stayed up until 4am last night writing, then spent my Sunday sitting at a cafe with my shiny new iPad, tap-tap-tapping away at porn in public. *snickers*
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9
“Missy, get out of here,” Brad says. Behind her, he hears Missy clumsily collect her clothes before dashing out the room from under Nate’s arm.
“How dare you,” Nate repeats, striding into the room with the tension of a tightly coiled spring.
The accusatory fire in Nate’s eyes makes it difficult not to lash back, but Brad schools his face into indifference and lazily replies, “I don’t know what I did to get your shorts in a twist, Fick, but I sure as hell ain’t the one interrupting a personal business transaction between two law-abiding citizens.” He tries to ignore how Nate’s fully dressed and buttoned-up proper while Brad’s sporting nothing but half-done trousers, cock jutting out from the fly and still gleaming wet from Missy’s devilish mouth.
Then again, Brad could be wearing a frilly set of knickers and an 18-inch corset around his waist for all Nate seems to care—boy’s eyes ain’t wandering anywhere but straight into Brad’s own as he stalks forward. When he’s close enough, Nate hauls Brad aside and throws him against the wall, Brad’s back colliding with a loud smack.
Suddenly, Brad’s got his hands full of one very pissed-off Nathaniel Fick, who pushes a forearm against Brad’s throat hard enough to make it hard to breathe.
Nate growls, “I’ve tolerated your busybodiness for days, now, even let you hold onto my gun until you got your head screwed on straight over this whole fucking mess, but I have my limits too. And my limit ends at you getting a room next to me at a hookshop—“ Nate presses in with his body, paying no heed to the way Brad’s cock is trapped between their stomachs—“and calling my fucking name out as you get your fucking dick serviced by the whore you paid extra to do the filthy shit.”
Nate drops his voice, low and dangerous. “Is that what you think about when you touch yourself? You think about me sucking your dick? Hardly original, you know. I know what my mouth looks like, and you sure as hell ain’t the first asshole wanting me to put it to use.”
The shock of his words makes Brad twitch so hard, it’s unsettling. Shit, Brad’s done playing games, now. He’s done letting Nate dictate the situation.
In defiance, Brad grinds up against Nate, his hard dick a solid weight between their lower bellies. It works like a charm—Nate looks down distractedly like he’s only just noticed it, and Brad takes the opportunity to pry Nate’s arm off his neck. He twists around and, using his weight as leverage, slams Nate up against the very spot he just was.
“Mighty sure of ourselves, are we?” Brad teases, draping his body over Nate’s and bearing down so hard, Nate’s shoulder must feel like it’s about to pop right out. “Trust me, I’d take Missy’s deep-throating over yours any day. You probably suck cock like a wet fish. As for taking the room next to yours, you think I like moonlighting as your fucking shadow, Nate? All I want from you is a few simple answers, but if you ain’t gonna cooperate like a good little boy, I’m gonna have to get them out of you somehow.” For emphasis, Brad rubs his dick into Nate’s clad behind, enjoying the nervous way Nate tries to move away from it.
Nate says nothing though, just keeps struggling uselessly against Brad’s iron grip. “So it’s gonna be like that, huh?” Brad intones. “Well, how about this...instead of trying to get one straight fucking story from you, how about I tell you what’s going on, and you just nod your pretty head yes or no.”
Brad takes Nate's silence as obeisance. “You shot Bob Raleigh. You might’ve shot the other men too—that I hain’t figured out yet—but you sure as hell shot Bob Raleigh." The way Nate freezes under his grasp merely confirms this, and Brad continues, "Bob was trying to run off with Marla, but you wanted her for yourself. So you made sure you’d get to keep her, by killing off the competition."
Nate makes a scoffing noise but Brad gamely goes on, "Hell, I bet all them dead boys were with you. Hired guns? Scoundrels like the lot of them, I bet they jumped at the faintest whiff of your crisp, new greenbacks. Sure bet they didn't count on getting killed, though.
"Well, you got what you wanted, Nate. You done got your little piece of tail, and now you want me off your back so you can make tracks outta this town, don't you?"
Under Brad's relentless grip, Nate chooses to stay infuriatingly silent, revealing nothing. He’s even stopped squirming around. In the darkness of the room, the sun long having sunk below the horizon, Brad can only hear the sound of his own ragged breathing—can only see the back of Nate's bowed head, and even that sight's half-obscured by the low candlelight.
Finally, Nate lifts his head. He turns to the side, face shadowed in profile as he says softly, "Your reputation precedes you, Iceman. Fastest draw in Nevada, never lost a duel. Always hit what you're meaning to hit, but never gratuitous about it, never cruel. Simply cold as ice…s’how you got your nickname."
Brad blinks. "What's that got to do with anything?"
Nate goes on like he hadn’t heard him, picking up in volume and confidence, "You're supposed to be the quickest mind in the West, too, and the sharpest eyes in the whole damned country. Coming out to the frontier, you'd think the Iceman were a fucking deity or something, the stories people tell about you. Can't figure out what all the fuss is about, though. Quite frankly, I'm disappointed in what I've seen so far."
Brad tightens his grip on Nate's wrist, trying to claw back the advantage quickly tipping in Nate’s favor, but he’s disturbed by Nate’s words and they both fucking know it.
Brad swallows grimly, "And you call me the busybody? You find out these fun facts from that piss-poor Injun you sicced on me?"
Nate's expression changes, his cocky mirth draining out into seriousness. "You had an Indian trailing you?"
To Brad’s left, something captures his attention. It’s a glint coming off their window—chances are it’s just the dancing reflection of candlelight, but Brad trusts his gut and his gut's telling him otherwise.
“Brad?” Nate asks.
Brad’s eyes are still trained on the window though. He waits, holding himself statue-still until slowly, a face emerges from behind distant scaffolding. “There are men on the roofs,” Brad states, jerking Nate down to the hardwood floor and throwing himself on top just in time for their window to burst into a thousand, crystalline pieces.
Beneath him, Nate's eyes are wide and surprised. Flying bullets or no, Brad returns his full concentration to Nate and picks up their conversation where they left off. "For all intents and purposes, I am a fucking deity,” Brad hisses. “I am a fucking warrior. You ever stop to think, maybe it’s just you fucking me up, Nate?”
Nate's mouth opens and moves, but anything he’s saying gets drowned out by a second, much closer gunshot that hits the mattress behind them with an explosion of feathers.
In the ensuing breath, Nate’s eyes lose their bewilderment and he barks, “Pull up your fucking pants, Sheriff. We need to move.”
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9
“Missy, get out of here,” Brad says. Behind her, he hears Missy clumsily collect her clothes before dashing out the room from under Nate’s arm.
“How dare you,” Nate repeats, striding into the room with the tension of a tightly coiled spring.
The accusatory fire in Nate’s eyes makes it difficult not to lash back, but Brad schools his face into indifference and lazily replies, “I don’t know what I did to get your shorts in a twist, Fick, but I sure as hell ain’t the one interrupting a personal business transaction between two law-abiding citizens.” He tries to ignore how Nate’s fully dressed and buttoned-up proper while Brad’s sporting nothing but half-done trousers, cock jutting out from the fly and still gleaming wet from Missy’s devilish mouth.
Then again, Brad could be wearing a frilly set of knickers and an 18-inch corset around his waist for all Nate seems to care—boy’s eyes ain’t wandering anywhere but straight into Brad’s own as he stalks forward. When he’s close enough, Nate hauls Brad aside and throws him against the wall, Brad’s back colliding with a loud smack.
Suddenly, Brad’s got his hands full of one very pissed-off Nathaniel Fick, who pushes a forearm against Brad’s throat hard enough to make it hard to breathe.
Nate growls, “I’ve tolerated your busybodiness for days, now, even let you hold onto my gun until you got your head screwed on straight over this whole fucking mess, but I have my limits too. And my limit ends at you getting a room next to me at a hookshop—“ Nate presses in with his body, paying no heed to the way Brad’s cock is trapped between their stomachs—“and calling my fucking name out as you get your fucking dick serviced by the whore you paid extra to do the filthy shit.”
Nate drops his voice, low and dangerous. “Is that what you think about when you touch yourself? You think about me sucking your dick? Hardly original, you know. I know what my mouth looks like, and you sure as hell ain’t the first asshole wanting me to put it to use.”
The shock of his words makes Brad twitch so hard, it’s unsettling. Shit, Brad’s done playing games, now. He’s done letting Nate dictate the situation.
In defiance, Brad grinds up against Nate, his hard dick a solid weight between their lower bellies. It works like a charm—Nate looks down distractedly like he’s only just noticed it, and Brad takes the opportunity to pry Nate’s arm off his neck. He twists around and, using his weight as leverage, slams Nate up against the very spot he just was.
“Mighty sure of ourselves, are we?” Brad teases, draping his body over Nate’s and bearing down so hard, Nate’s shoulder must feel like it’s about to pop right out. “Trust me, I’d take Missy’s deep-throating over yours any day. You probably suck cock like a wet fish. As for taking the room next to yours, you think I like moonlighting as your fucking shadow, Nate? All I want from you is a few simple answers, but if you ain’t gonna cooperate like a good little boy, I’m gonna have to get them out of you somehow.” For emphasis, Brad rubs his dick into Nate’s clad behind, enjoying the nervous way Nate tries to move away from it.
Nate says nothing though, just keeps struggling uselessly against Brad’s iron grip. “So it’s gonna be like that, huh?” Brad intones. “Well, how about this...instead of trying to get one straight fucking story from you, how about I tell you what’s going on, and you just nod your pretty head yes or no.”
Brad takes Nate's silence as obeisance. “You shot Bob Raleigh. You might’ve shot the other men too—that I hain’t figured out yet—but you sure as hell shot Bob Raleigh." The way Nate freezes under his grasp merely confirms this, and Brad continues, "Bob was trying to run off with Marla, but you wanted her for yourself. So you made sure you’d get to keep her, by killing off the competition."
Nate makes a scoffing noise but Brad gamely goes on, "Hell, I bet all them dead boys were with you. Hired guns? Scoundrels like the lot of them, I bet they jumped at the faintest whiff of your crisp, new greenbacks. Sure bet they didn't count on getting killed, though.
"Well, you got what you wanted, Nate. You done got your little piece of tail, and now you want me off your back so you can make tracks outta this town, don't you?"
Under Brad's relentless grip, Nate chooses to stay infuriatingly silent, revealing nothing. He’s even stopped squirming around. In the darkness of the room, the sun long having sunk below the horizon, Brad can only hear the sound of his own ragged breathing—can only see the back of Nate's bowed head, and even that sight's half-obscured by the low candlelight.
Finally, Nate lifts his head. He turns to the side, face shadowed in profile as he says softly, "Your reputation precedes you, Iceman. Fastest draw in Nevada, never lost a duel. Always hit what you're meaning to hit, but never gratuitous about it, never cruel. Simply cold as ice…s’how you got your nickname."
Brad blinks. "What's that got to do with anything?"
Nate goes on like he hadn’t heard him, picking up in volume and confidence, "You're supposed to be the quickest mind in the West, too, and the sharpest eyes in the whole damned country. Coming out to the frontier, you'd think the Iceman were a fucking deity or something, the stories people tell about you. Can't figure out what all the fuss is about, though. Quite frankly, I'm disappointed in what I've seen so far."
Brad tightens his grip on Nate's wrist, trying to claw back the advantage quickly tipping in Nate’s favor, but he’s disturbed by Nate’s words and they both fucking know it.
Brad swallows grimly, "And you call me the busybody? You find out these fun facts from that piss-poor Injun you sicced on me?"
Nate's expression changes, his cocky mirth draining out into seriousness. "You had an Indian trailing you?"
To Brad’s left, something captures his attention. It’s a glint coming off their window—chances are it’s just the dancing reflection of candlelight, but Brad trusts his gut and his gut's telling him otherwise.
“Brad?” Nate asks.
Brad’s eyes are still trained on the window though. He waits, holding himself statue-still until slowly, a face emerges from behind distant scaffolding. “There are men on the roofs,” Brad states, jerking Nate down to the hardwood floor and throwing himself on top just in time for their window to burst into a thousand, crystalline pieces.
Beneath him, Nate's eyes are wide and surprised. Flying bullets or no, Brad returns his full concentration to Nate and picks up their conversation where they left off. "For all intents and purposes, I am a fucking deity,” Brad hisses. “I am a fucking warrior. You ever stop to think, maybe it’s just you fucking me up, Nate?”
Nate's mouth opens and moves, but anything he’s saying gets drowned out by a second, much closer gunshot that hits the mattress behind them with an explosion of feathers.
In the ensuing breath, Nate’s eyes lose their bewilderment and he barks, “Pull up your fucking pants, Sheriff. We need to move.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-06-07 03:18 am (UTC)BRAD IS THE SHIZNIT. HE IS ASSURED OF THIS. WHAT HE HAS YET TO REALIZE IS THAT NATE? ALSO THE SHIZNIT. BUT I SUSPECT HE WILL LEARN! \o/
no subject
Date: 2010-06-08 03:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-07 05:59 am (UTC)I have my limits too. And my limit ends at you getting a room next to me at a hookshop—“ Nate presses in with his body, paying no heed to the way Brad’s cock is trapped between their stomachs—“and calling my fucking name out as you get your fucking dick serviced by the whore you paid extra for to do the filthy shit.”
Nate's righteous indignation, paired with the badassery, is simply the hottest thing EVER. Brad agrees with me, I'm sure.
Also, hmm, I do wonder if Nate's indignation has more reasons than just the bounds of propriety. ::beams::
Coming out to the frontier, you'd think the Iceman were a fucking deity or something, the stories people tell about you. Can't figure out what all the fuss is about, though. Quite frankly, I'm disappointed in what I've seen so far.
Oh, DAMN. Now he's taking the gloves off. I suspect he's a bit more rattled than he'd like.
“There are men on the roofs,”
I squealed in delight! PERFECT reference to canon. And it's perfectly placed - right after Nate called him out for not being the omniscient God that everyone says. Take that, Nate!
"For all intents and purposes, I am a fucking deity,” Brad hisses. “I am a fucking warrior. You ever stop to think, maybe it’s just you fucking me up, Nate?”
And then I melted into a puddle of goo. Even as they continue to get shot at. ::is very happy::
SO MUCH LOVE. In case I haven't made that clear.
no subject
Date: 2010-06-08 03:46 am (UTC)i was smiling to myself like a loon in the shower this morning, before going to work. like, seriously retarded!face happy b/c I woke up to such nice words *___*
Also, how much do i love that you quote your favorite parts? A LOT. A LOT A LOT A LOT
Oh, DAMN. Now he's taking the gloves off. I suspect he's a bit more rattled than he'd like.
Yay, you totally read into Nate's mean reaction the right way!! He's just rattled from being so in love w/ the town sheriff <3
*tackle glomps you*
no subject
Date: 2010-06-08 05:50 am (UTC)how much do i love that you quote your favorite parts? A LOT. A LOT A LOT A LOT
I love it when people do this for me, so I try to spread the love! Also, the boys are quotable always and you've nailed them here.
In a way they're each throwing the other off his game. They're not seeing the facades we all keep because they so rattle each other. I...kind of adore that.
And you. ::hearts::
no subject
Date: 2010-06-07 09:30 am (UTC)You probably suck cock like a wet fish.
LOL. You keep telling yourself that Brad. Maybe it will stop you calling out his name when you come.
"There are men on the roofs,"
I might have squealed when I read this. How much do I love you for sneaking that in. It's just so perfect.
no subject
Date: 2010-06-08 03:47 am (UTC)Hee!!! I should've made Nate say that to him, huh?
Thanks for your super shiny comment *___*
no subject
Date: 2010-06-07 09:33 am (UTC)intriguing..
and this whole story is keeping me on the edge of my seat, I'm definitely captivated:p
no subject
Date: 2010-06-08 03:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-07 11:43 am (UTC)Love you and love this. *squishes*
no subject
Date: 2010-06-08 03:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-08 10:00 am (UTC)Stupid question is stupid.
CRACKS THE WHIP(AWAY) ;)
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Date: 2010-06-07 02:00 pm (UTC)“There are men on the roofs,”
Hee, clever! :D
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Date: 2010-06-08 03:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-07 03:35 pm (UTC)There goes my higher brain function
no subject
Date: 2010-06-08 03:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-08 05:18 pm (UTC)So, I had to come back and read it again while waiting for the new instalment and so I thought I'd leave a proper comment ;p
But first, happened on this gif in
which she had subtitled: Western hip wiggle brad is ...making me want an au. Mmmm, look at that swivel! *distracted* and I thought, omg, point Ray, this is totally what your sheriff!Brad would look like *FLAIL*
Okay, so badass!Nate filled with self-righteous anger is beyond awesome, I loved that it's left to us to interpret what really pisses him off in the whole ordeal *winkwink*
Also, all that MAN-HANDLING!!! I might have come a little. Especially as Brad is a twisted and kinky little fuck who ruts against Nate's ass, which, hey, can't blame the man. I can't help but think Nate was totally turned on against despite his best efforts, hence the squirming &hearts
You ever stop to think, maybe it’s just you fucking me up, Nate?”
Well duh. And ANY and ALL kind of fucking between you two is WIN.
“There are men on the roofs,” Brad states
I might have gone clappy hands at this perfect inclusion of canon.
In the ensuing breath, Nate’s eyes lose their bewilderment and he barks, “Pull up your fucking pants, Sheriff. We need to move.”
GO GET THEM LT!
Also, the plot is *really* interesting, can't wait to find about what it's all about, why Nate's remaining silent, what it is that Brad's missing. And oh yeah, the badassery that will ensue &hearts
Yeah, I need to forgo the caps a little but oh my, this is just so much my happy place, I've loved waking up to find a new part these last days x) *hugs*
no subject
Date: 2010-06-08 11:14 pm (UTC)And that gif!!!! I TOTALLY need to borrow it o_o It is sososososo sheriff!Brad. Like, yis. Put a Stetson on that sucker and he's all done.
Also, how much do I love that you're TOTALLY reading between the lines? I've been a little worried that Nate and Brad are coming off OOC (as in, Nate being mean when he says the Iceman is overrated, and Brad's being a retard about the case) but I'm kind of just like, trying to throw the boys for a loop. They're really just totally fucked up over each other <3
Eeeeeeeeeee *wiggles* I heart you muchly.
no subject
Date: 2010-06-09 07:34 pm (UTC)I've been a little worried that Nate and Brad are coming off OOC
Not at all! That's what's so great about AUs, your beloved characters are in such a different setting that you can have a wholly different take on them and yet still keep what makes them essentially who they are <3 The fact that they're in a clusterfuck and have no reason to trust each other (despite their burning love their for each other, but HUSH, they're not aware of it yet ;) comes across very well and I love the antagonism and peculiar dynamic that establishes between them.
And I can only read b/w the lines because there's such lovely subtext, I'm a big fan of the 'show rather than tell' rule ;)
I was re-reading the 1st part and was happy to find some foreshadowing that had totally escaped my notice the first time *g*
but I'm kind of just like, trying to throw the boys for a loop. They're really just totally fucked up over each other
And that, is LOVE.
*wiggles right back at ya*
no subject
Date: 2010-06-07 04:30 pm (UTC)I love how you sneakily managed to get a variation of Brad's famous "There are men in the trees." in there :D
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Date: 2010-06-08 03:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-07 09:50 pm (UTC)"For all intents and purposes, I am a fucking deity,” Brad hisses. “I am a fucking warrior. You ever stop to think, maybe it’s just you fucking me up, Nate?”
OMG, Brad actually admitting that! I love it.
And I love that they're both fucking amazing under fire.
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Date: 2010-06-08 03:51 am (UTC)Ah, yes. They would not be the Brad and Nate we love so much if they didn't get out of every firefight alive and unruffled ;)
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Date: 2010-06-08 10:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-08 11:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-09 09:50 pm (UTC)I can't remember how I stumbled across your work but... WOW!
This is fantastic! I don't usually read AU stuff but this is brilliant, really well written and full of UST (that will be resolved yes?... yes?)which I love!
Also 'there are men on the roofs' LOVED IT!! I had to think where I'd heard that before, then I realised and had a *facepalm* moment.
Can't wait for your next installment...
no subject
Date: 2010-07-02 10:24 pm (UTC)