Title: Comfort

by Kel

dragonbane4@aol.com

Pairing: Seth Bullock/Wild Bill Hickok

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: Nope

Warnings: Nope

Summary: Wild Bill and Montana realize they need the same thing.

Notes: for Aelora. Tons of thanks to Chase for the beta.

Website: Listen To The Thunder


Comfort
by Kel
- = - = -

"Montana."

Seth didn't have to turn around to know who spoke to him--there was only one person in all of Deadwood that called him that. "Mr. Hickok," he answered, pausing in his hammering and turning around anyway.

"Lookin' for a hand?" Bill asked, shucking off the long frock coat he wore and rolling up his sleeves, knowing the answer before Seth gave it.

"Hammer's over there, nails're in the bucket," Seth answered anyway. "Sol and I are hopin' to get the walls raised tonight, and the planking up first thing in the morning before it gets too warm."

"Mmm," Bill said, climbing into the wall frame that Seth was hammering together, and started fitting braces to the other side. "Swearengen's spreadin' around the fact that you don't like women," he continued, starting to nail the braces together.

"I don't like his women," Seth agreed.

Bill didn't even raise a brow at that. "Can't say as I care for 'em, either." His hammering cut off conversation for a few minutes, but then he paused and spoke again. "Man's gotta get his comfort somewhere, though."

"Suppose that's true enough," Seth admitted, stopping to pick up a handful of nails. "Usually don't think about it all that much."

Bill just nodded. "Man of the law, guess you do have a lotta responsibility." He kept hammering.

Seth interrupted the hammering with his next statement, so that Bill had to stop to hear it. "Not a man of the law anymore, Mr. Hickok. Just a man, tryin' to open a hardware store with my friend."

"Bill. Mr. Hickok's for old men and people I'm gonna shoot. I ain't that old yet, and I ain't gonna shoot you, Montana. So relax already."

"All right." Seth gave a little grin. "Bill it is then." He paused a second, laying out the nails he'd just picked up so that he could use them. "In case I haven't said it yet, I'm real thankful for all the help."

"More hands make faster work when you're workin' with a friend." That was the only explanation that Bill offered for his presence, and Seth didn't seen to need any other.

"Heard the same thing myself," Seth said, going back to his hammering. The street was still somewhat busy, with drunken people going in and out of the Gem and Nuttall's No. 10 Saloon, stumbling over each other's feet and swearing up a storm. Even so, Seth wasn't worried about working alone here after dark, because he knew he was well capable of taking care of himself, with or without guns.

Still, it didn't hurt to be in the company of one of the most feared men in the territory.

Seth realized, as he worked quietly with Bill, occasionally pausing to talk, that there was something about Bill that called for respect. And he also realized that whatever that quality was, it was what drew him *to* Bill in the first place. It was something that Sol didn't have--couldn't have it if he tried, Seth reckoned, and he liked it. He was glad to have found Bill in Deadwood, because it meant that he wasn't going to be alone. At least, that's what he hoped it meant because Seth was *tired* of being alone. No friends but Sol, no place to call home but this tent and wagon.

"You're gettin' quiet over there, Montana," Bill drawled. "Ain't never a good thing when a thinkin' man goes quiet. Mean's he's thinkin' up something', and that usually means trouble fer the rest o'us."

Seth laughed. "No, I'm not thinking up anything right now. In fact, I was actually thinkin' about how lucky I am to make your acquaintance here in Deadwood."

Bill dropped his hammer at that. "Feelin's mutual. Don't mind sayin' I'm glad of the company myself." He groaned as he winced and rubbed his shoulder. "Mind if we take a break and get a drink?" He didn't feel like playing poker, and was surprised. But he didn't question it.

Seth wiped his arm across his forehead. "That sounds like an excellent idea." The corners of his lips turned up in disgust as he looked at the Gem. "As much as it pains me to suggest it, perhaps Mr. Nuttall's establishment is better suited to our needs than the Gem."

Bill just shrugged eloquently as he got to his feet. "After you, Montana."

Seth picked up his own jacket, and slipped into it as he stepped carefully over the wall frames to join Bill in walking towards the No. 10 Saloon.

The bar was still in full swing; noisy with people yelling, fighting, drinking and gaming. There were simple dice games going on in one of the back corners, and more than one person at the poker tables yelled out invitations to Bill--both profane and not--to come ante up in the games. Seth was surprised when Bill ignored them all and followed him up to the counter. "Bottle of whiskey. Two glasses," Seth ordered.

"Lemme see your money first," Nuttall demanded, eyeing Wild Bill casually but surreptitiously.

Seth pulled a pouch out from his pocket and displayed a mix of coins and nuggets. "A bottle of whiskey, two glasses, and I don't want to have to ask again."

"Buck fifty," Tom grunted as he got the bottle from behind the bar, and put two glasses down beside it.

Seth put two dollars on the bar, picked up the bottle, and gave one of the glasses to Bill. There wasn't an empty table to be had, so they sat at the end of the bar. Seth filled each of their glasses, and Bill drained his in a quick drink. Seth followed suit, then refilled both their glasses.

By their fifth drink, there'd been a drunken brawl that had cleared out a corner table, and they'd taken it as soon as it'd opened up. Bill sat in the corner, back to the wall and eye on the room as Seth sat just enough to the side of him that he could watch the door.

They hadn't even consulted each other, Seth realized, as he filled their glasses again. They'd just worked together to canvas the room in the kind of unspoken partnership that Seth had rarely encountered in his life, and hadn't expected to find in Deadwood. He had just opened his mouth to say something about it when Bill spoke first.

"Don't do it, Montana," Bill said in his usual gravelly voice. "Anythin' you say's gonna be the whiskey talkin' and not you."

Seth blinked and closed his mouth. "Is there a sign over my head?"

Bill just raised his refilled glass. "Ain't that hard to read, Seth," for the first time using his friend's given name. "Kinda got experience in it myself. Man's about to die, he gets this look on his face like he's about to give y'chapter'n'verse 'bout every wrong he's done in his life. You got that look about you right now."

Seth stared into his whiskey for several long moments after that. And then he changed the subject entirely. "How is that young girl from the ambush getting along? Mr. Utter told me that you'd given up your room for Jane and the girl to have a place to stay."

"Farnum raised hell about it, but he saw the light," Bill said, not batting an eye at the changed subject.

"You mean he saw the flashing light of money," Seth corrected. "If you're still looking for a place to sleep that isn't the floor of the hotel, you're welcome to stay in the tent with Sol and I. Might be a little cramped, but I'm certain it's better than the floor."

"Thanks for the offer, Montana, but the girl's back with Doc, and I've got m'room back." Bill tipped his chair back so that he was leaning against the wall.

"Well, I'm sorry my offer wasn't more timely then," Seth said with a raise of his glass. "But consider it extended if circumstances should again require it."

Bill finished his drink and then refilled it himself. "You always dance around somethin' you wanna say, or is it because you're drunk?" he asked, watching Seth carefully.

"I am not drunk," Seth protested, picking up the whiskey bottle. "And I'm not dancin' around anything."

"Right," Bill said, drinking the whiskey in his glass before reaching for the bottle.

Seth took the bottle back after Bill was done, and took a long drink from the bottle itself. "And even if I were dancing around something, as you say, it most certainly wouldn't be because I was drunk."

"Uh huh," Bill commented, taking the bottle from Seth's fidgeting hands. "Just spit it out, Montana, or you're gonna choke on it."

Seth glared at Bill. "I do not have anything to just spit out, but there is a proposal of some consideration that I'd like to share with you."

"Finally," Bill muttered to himself.

Seth got up from his chair. "I don't think that this is quite the place to discuss it," he said as he rose.

"Now why don't that surprise me?" Bill asked. He picked up the bottle to take with them and followed Seth to the door.

The cool night air seemed to clear Seth's mind a little of the smoke and fog that had wrapped around it in the saloon. He walked past the lot where he was building the store, and past the tent where Sol was sleeping quietly.

"We goin' for a midnight stroll, Montana? Or you actually got a place in mind?" Bill called out.

"I've got a place in mind," Seth said over his shoulder as he kept walking. "It's called, out of town."

"Nice to see you know where you're goin'," Bill muttered, but kept pace with Seth until they got off of Deadwood's main street and came to a halt in front of a dark building.

Seth pushed the door open and went inside, reaching inside his coat for a match and striking it on the doorframe. Soon, several stubby leftover candles were lit and revealed beds, sheets, and other things piled haphazardly over the room. "This is where the Bella Union people dumped the old hotel things that they didn't use," Seth explained. "Sol, being the businessman that he is, followed him here the day they moved and offered to sell them locks for the door. As you can see, they turned 'im down."

"Nice," Bill said. "Now you gonna tell me why we're here?"

Seth looked over his shoulder at Bill. "What, you can't read me right now?" he asked, surprised.

Wild Bill sighed, and drained the bottle. "What I'm readin' right now is a man who's had a little too much t'drink," Bill answered, avoiding the question.

Seth gritted his teeth softly. He didn't do this kind of thing, not at all, but it'd been a long damn time since he'd found someone he'd had such a connection with, and even as rusty as he was, he couldn't let that chance slide away. "I… was hoping that… I wasn't wrong, was I? You and me, there is something there?"

"Y'weren't wrong," Bill admitted.

"And I'm also not wrong in thinking that we trust each other," Seth continued, trying to build up to his point.

"Nobody else I'd rather have watchin' m'back, Montana," Bill answered, and his hand shook just enough to slosh the liquor left in the bottle as he drank from it.

"And there's no one else I'd rather have at mine," Seth answered back just as quickly. "You've proven that you're a--"

Bill interrupted Seth's train of thought by throwing the empty whiskey bottle against the door and watching it shatter. "Told you in the saloon not t'go here, Montana. Just the whiskey talkin', and you're gonna regret whatever it is you're gonna say come mornin'."

"I know my own mind, Bill," Seth said, turning around and looking at his friend eye to eye. "I know I'm not wrong in thinking that there is--"

"Y'ain't wrong," Bill interrupted. "Y'ain't wrong in a thing you said tonight, in fact," he sighed. "Y'ain't wrong, either, if y'think I'd take you up on it. Do it in a second. But--"

Whatever the but was, Seth never found out, because he took off his coat and unbuttoned his sleeves as he went over to Bill. "I don't do this," Seth said softly, needing Bill to know that. "But you're--"

"Special?" Bill finished for him as Seth came over, and when Seth stopped a hairsbreadth away, Bill yanked him forward the rest of the way and kissed him.

"Yeah," Seth answered, a split second before Bill's mouth covered his. The sensation of beard against mustache was unfamiliar and erotic all at once, and both their mouths tasted like cheap whiskey.

The kisses were short, brutal, but welcomed as Seth pulled away and turned around so that his back was to Bill's chest, silently asking.

Bill didn't speak either, just opened the fly of his pants enough to expose his cock, which was hardening rapidly despite the chill in the air. Seth unfastened his belt and let his trousers fall to his knees, and he spread his legs just enough to expose himself, his own cock already hard and wanting.

Bill didn't waste time looking around and searching for what he knew wasn't there; instead he spit on his fingers before sliding them inside Seth's body at the same time, working quickly but carefully as he opened Seth for his cock.

Seth's eyes were closed, his head arched back as he clenched tightly around Bill's fingers. He was tight from disuse and a little sore from being so quickly opened, but he didn't protest it at all as he kept his legs in position. This was why Seth didn't like Swearengen's whores, or anyone's whores for that matter, because he was a hard, rough man and he didn't want soft and sweet at the end of the day. At the end, he wanted someone hard and rough like him, a partner in everything, and as Bill's cock slowly speared him, Seth's last coherent thought was that Bill *was* a partner he could count on.

Bill's hands closed tightly on Seth's hips as he pulled him backwards, meeting the first upward thrust of his cock. He held Seth still until he was situated, deep inside and able to move in the tightness, and then he let him move. He didn't bother with the upper fastenings of Seth's shirt, just let his hands slide under the untucked hem, stroke roughly over Seth's belly, exploring upwards until he found Seth's nipples. He gave each nub a little pinch as he thrust forward, grunting into Seth's ear as each pinch caused a tightening around his cock.

Seth was shuddering as he rocked back against Bill, the dark room and the cool air closing in on him until all that he could see or feel was Bill's cock pounding his ass, gun-calloused hands on his skin, and the scrape of beard and mustache on his ear as he leaned his head back against Bill's shoulder.

He didn't expect the scratchy kisses to his throat that nearly caused him to vibrate out of his skin, and he gave a soft, quiet moan as Bill scraped his teeth and tongue over his neck. He shuddered harder when Bill's mouth sucked on the back of his shoulder, and his cock twitched along with the rest of his body.

Bill answered each shudder with a light scrape of his teeth over Seth's collarbone, his fingers dragging over Seth's nipples again and again, abrading the tender skin with rough fingertips as he thrust harder. Each time Seth's body tightened around him, Bill's cock pushed in harder the next time. He moved faster as Seth dictated, letting the tight clenches and desperate rocking motions set the pace.

He bit Seth's shoulder every time he heard a moan, a reminder to stay quiet at the same time it demonstrated his pleasure. His cock never stopped moving as he made love to Seth, and he grunted his every thought into his lover's shoulder.

Every bite caused Seth's cock to jerk, caused the precome that was dripping off his cock to splash on the hard dirt floor at his feet. He reached out and started to stroke his cock, and as he did, Bill's arm came around his waist and hauled him closely back.

It was the tight arm around his waist, coupled with the hard bites to his shoulder that caused Seth to tremble in Bill's arms as he came. They felt frighteningly close to something like possession, and as Seth cried out in his orgasm, he felt Bill's forehead pressing against the back of his neck and the whisper of whiskey-scented breath over his skin.

Bill's breath rushed out of him when he felt Seth's ass contract around him, and his arm tightened around Seth's waist as he rode out the rush of orgasm. He kept Seth close, thrusting forward brutally several times before burying himself to the hilt as he spilled inside Seth's body.

Breathless as well, Seth had barely had a chance to come down from his own orgasm before he felt Bill's. His hand dropped from his spent cock as he turned his head to look over his shoulder, rubbing his unshaven cheek against Bill's temple as he panted for breath.

Bill left trailing bites over Seth's shoulder and up his neck as he slowly pulled his cock out of Seth's body. After tucking himself away, Bill's mouth stayed pressed against Seth's ear as he whispered into it. "'m goin' t'hell, Montana, and I'm not scared o'it. What I'm scared of is takin' you with me."

Seth's breath caught in his throat, but before he could turn around or say anything reassuring Bill had stepped away from him, and was walking out the door.



The End