Pairing: Ezra Standish/Buck Wilmington
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: the usual... I don’t own ‘em, I’m not making any money off ‘em, I just brought ‘em out to play... but if nobody else wants ‘em, I’m more than willing to provide a good home for the boys.
Notes: Response to a challenge: your characters are trapped together, how do they occupy their time?
Warnings: None.
Summary: Buck loses at poker... or does he?


Stud Poker

by TimberWolf

“I cannot believe we are to be abandoned in these dismal premises indefinitely. How did this misfortune fall upon us?” Ezra Standish drawled in his soft Southern accent, brushing at the thick layer of dust covering the table and chairs taking up the centre of the ramshackle cabin’s single room.

Other than the small cot against the far wall, that dusty table and chairs, two of which were broken, were the only furnishings in the place. The single window was caked in grime, and broken, letting in a slanting shaft of light to illuminate the dust filtering through the air.

The gambler had been forced to relax his fastidious standards quite a bit since joining the group of men hired to protect Four Corners. Dust permeated everything and many a long ride had left his own appearance somewhat less than immaculate, but there were limits to what a gentleman should be forced to endure.

“It’s likely only ‘til tomorrow night, Ezra,” Buck chuckled, “you’re here so’s you don’t get killed before the boys can catch McCabe, and I’m here in case he finds you before they can find him.”

Ezra glared at the good-humoured gunslinger. “It was a rhetorical question, Mr. Wilmington.”

Buck only grinned, “Well, if you didn’t want an answer, then you ought not to ask the question.”

“Thank you so much for that sage bit of wisdom.” Ezra scowled, but he couldn’t hold it. The bigger man’s warm chuckle and the teasing gleam in his eyes were unfortunately infectious. “All right then, I do have a question for you. How exactly are we supposed to amuse ourselves for the next 36 hours?”

“You have a deck of cards with you, don’t ya?”

“Always.” the gambler replied, pulling the deck from his inside jacket pocket. “But cards are not meant to be a solitary amusement. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to try your hand at poker?”

Buck grinned, squinting at the gambler, “With you?”

“Well, I don’t believe I am mistaken in my assumption that there is no one else here.” Ezra’s gold tooth flashed in his return grin, his green eyes sparkling with an unspoken dare. “Stud poker? Winner takes all?”

Buck rubbed thoughtfully at his chin, “Ain’t got nothin’ to play for.”

Ezra sucked in a breath, this could be even more interesting than he’d imagined, if he’d been reading the gunslinger correctly of late. Well, was he a gambler or wasn’t he? “We could always make it... strip poker.”

Buck brushed idly at his moustache, a slow teasing grin growing and a bright fire igniting in his eyes.

Ezra swallowed, trying to work past the tightness blocking his throat, about to take one of the biggest gambles of his life. “Winner takes the loser?” he whispered.

With a laugh, Buck tossed his hat on one of the broken chairs. “You’re on!”

Ezra shifted slightly in his seat, peeling naked flesh once more from the hard wooden chair. The game so far had been as much of a long drawn out tease as it was serious poker. And to Ezra’s slight surprise, the gunslinger had proven an able card player.

So they sat, playing their last hand. Ezra was wearing only his boots, the remainder of his clothing folded neatly on the next chair. Buck grinned across from him, covered only by the large green bandanna draped around his neck, the rest of his clothes tossed casually over the remaining chair.

“Moment of truth Ezra,” Buck held the gambler’s green gaze, “Whatcha got?”

“Only a pair of lovely ladies,” he drawled, revealing his cards, ending with the Queen of Spades and the Queen of Diamonds, “I believe you...”

“Damn,” Buck threw down his own cards, “that beats my measly pair of deuces.”

“What?” Ezra reached over, spreading out Buck’s cards.

Buck looked up at Ezra, his gaze smouldering under half-lowered lids. “Looks like you win,” he growled with a grin, pulling his bandanna off to toss it in the gambler’s direction.

He stood, sauntering slowly in the direction of the cot, leaving Ezra to stare openly at the play of muscles moving over the gunslinger’s tall, lean frame. When he reached the cot, Buck bent over, spreading his clean bed roll out over the cot’s bare frame with slow, leisurely movements.

Buck grinned. Judging by the panting breaths and occasional soft groans coming from behind him, the gambler was enjoying his little display. He glanced back over his shoulder, calling softly, “You coming?”

Ezra grinned wildly, gold tooth flashing in the dim light, “All in good time, Mr. Wilmington, all in good time.” He pulled off his boots and stood quickly, eager to join Buck, his burgeoning shaft long and heavy between his legs.

“Damn, Ezra!” Buck exclaimed wide-eyed, “Now I see why you wear such loose fittin’ trousers all the time.” He leered, waggling his eyebrows, “if the ladies in town had half the notion, they’d never leave you be. Or give any of the rest of us a second look, ever again.”

Ezra flushed, grinning as he walked toward the narrow cot.

As Ezra got closer, Buck dropped to his knees. Reaching out, he grabbed the gambler’s hips, pulling him across the last tiny distance, pressing his lips against the Southerner’s groin.

Ezra groaned, hands tangling into Buck’s dark hair. The stubbled jaw scraped sensitive flesh, the moustache tickled his shaft, as Ezra sighed, his eyes drifting closed. It had been so long, too long, since he’d felt himself clutched in a strong man’s embrace, stroked by a man’s rough hands, heard a man’s deep growls of pleasure around his aching erection. His knees shuddered, near collapse at the pleasure washing through him.

The gambler pulled back with a groan, taking deep, calming breaths. He pulled Buck up into a hard, sucking kiss, grinding his aching shaft against the gunslinger’s growing heat. Pressing Buck down to his elbows and knees on the narrow cot, Ezra trailed a line of wet, teasing kisses up the taller man’s arching spine to drawl softly in his ear, “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Buck groaned as the warm breath tickled against his neck. The gambler’s mouth and hands left behind a burning trail, igniting a blaze that followed a tingling path through his entire body before pooling in his throbbing groin.

He listened as the gambler stood, quietly padding over to where their saddle bags rested near the door. After a moment’s rummaging, Buck heard the soft tread returning, felt the cot dip as Ezra steeled behind him, between Buck’s knees.

“Jee-sus, Ezra!” Buck yelled, jumping at the cool, slick touch against his anus. “What the hell was that?” he asked, craning his neck sharply around to try and see.

“Hand creme,” Ezra mumbled.

“What!” Buck chuckled.

“Hand creme. I said, it’s hand creme.” Ezra blurted, heat staining his cheeks, “Satisfied?”

“Well, not yet, but soon I hope,” Buck continued to chuckle softly. “Always did think you had awful nice, soft hands.”

“A gentleman in my profession relies upon the sensitivity of his fingertips. Calluses are not good for business.” Ezra insisted in his soft Southern accent, smoothing his fingers over Buck’s ass.

“Uh, Ezra, I don’t think I have any calluses back there,” Buck sighed softly, arching into the gambler’s caress.

“Really?” Ezra drawled. “Well, let me just take a closer look then,” he teased, leaning in to blow a warm breath across the small pucker at Buck’s centre, watching it clench spasmodically in reaction.

“Gawd, Ez...” the gunslinger growled, “just do it.”

“That is my intention,” the gambler teased, eyes twinkling, “if you would only stop interrupting my preparations.”

“Don’t need no preparin’. Just need you in me,” Buck groaned, pressing back against the gambler.

“Indulge me.” Ezra grinned, working two fingers into Buck’s tight ring, twisting and stretching the small pucker.

“Please, Ez...” Buck whispered, “do it now.”

Ezra chuckled. Centering his aching erection against Buck, he pressed slowly forward, groaning at the tight heat slowly enveloping his seeking cock.

Buck gasped at the hard shaft, stretching him wide, splitting him open. Clenching the blankets in grasping fists, his thighs trembled with the effort it took to hold still, to accept Ezra’s heat, inch by slow, torturous inch.

“Dammit, Ezra, MOVE!” Buck growled finally, losing patience with the gambler’s slow, tormenting pace. “I want it hard and fast.” He bucked his hips back hard against the Southerner’s, squeezing tight around Ezra’s shaft, wringing a deep, rumbling moan from his partner’s throat.

Taking the gunslinger’s cue, Ezra grasped Buck’s hips in a hard, bruising grip, surprising him with the strength in those soft, gambler’s hands. Holding his partner tightly, Ezra pulled back, slow and steady, then thrust forward, initiating a frantic, pounding rhythm.

Buck whimpered softly, meeting each movement of Ezra’s hips with a matching pump of his own.

Ezra was drowning, lost in the heat, the tightness, the sweet passion sounds echoing in his ears. He picked up his pace, his rhythm matching the throbbing pulse pounding through his veins. Reaching a hand around Buck’s waist, Ezra wrapped a fist around the gunslinger’s cock, holding tight while Buck pumped forward into his fist and back onto his cock.

A half dozen thrusts more, and both men were shouting their climax, collapsing together on the small cot.

Drawing several deep gasping breaths, Ezra leaned up on his elbow, lifting as much of his weight off his partner as he could in the cramped space. Brushing gentle fingers through Buck’s sweat dampened hair, he murmured, “How do you feel?”

Buck groaned, shifting to roll over onto his side, craning his neck to meet Ezra’s questioning gaze. “Like I been rode hard and put away wet.”

Ezra chuckled, “What an appropriate euphemism. This is a good thing, I hope?”

Buck grinned back widely, eyes twinkling, “Oh yeah.” Stretching up a little, Buck met Ezra’s lips with his own in a sweet, exploring kiss.

Leaning back, Ezra smiled softly, “Mr. Wilming-... Buck?”

Eyes closed, Buck murmured, “Hmmm?”

Ezra drew in a deep breath, “I consider myself to be somewhat skilled with the cards...”

“Sure are,” Buck grinned.

“...and I am quite certain that I dealt you three Kings.” Ezra peered closely at Buck, searching the gunslinger’s expression.

“Yeah?” Buck opened one eye to squint at the gambler.

“So how exactly did you end up with a simple pair of deuces?”

Buck grinned, breaking into full throated laughter as he pulled the gambler into another wild kiss, “Just lucky I guess.”


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