Hawthorn '03: Silk, Satin, Leather And Texas

"What do you mean you can't find the booking?" Ezra asked with forced patience.

Buck stood behind him, he was feeling out of place and uncomfortable.

"I have here the letter you sent to Judge Travis, confirming the booking."

"Oh." The flustered desk clerk took the letter. "Oh dear, um I'll just get Mr Taylor, he's the manager."

Ezra turned to face his travelling companion. "Imbeciles, we are surrounded by incompetence."

"Sure is a fancy place," Buck finally commented.

The Grand Hotel, St Louis was far and away the grandest place Buck had ever been inside. Oh, he had see the inside of some very plush whore houses, but fancy as they were, they were still whore houses, and in the war one or two plantation mansions, but they had seen better days by the time he saw them. The Grand was something else. It was built of stone and brick, they now stood on a marble floor, the drapes were of the heaviest blood red velvet with gold brocade and tassels, the tables were mahogany and the chairs were deep buttoned, leather covered Chesterfields. That little voice inside Buck that said 'you're just the poor bastard of a common whore, you don't belong here' was speaking to him.

Ezra glanced around him. "It's adequate."

"Adequate? Jeez Ezra, you sound like you live like this all the time."

Ezra snorted. "Would that it were so, my friend, would that it were so. Once these cretins have our rooms sorted out, I for one intend to investigate the local retail businesses, I would be happy of your company but if you have other plans we can arrange to meet later."

"You been here before?" Buck asked.

"Indeed Mr Wilmington, I have passed through on occasion, but never have I had the luxury of doing so at someone else's expense or while I was myself in funds."

Judge Travis had sent them to the city to collect some federal land grants. He had sent Ezra because there was bound to be red tape and bureaucracy to deal with and no one was better at that than Ezra, and he sent Buck because he was incorruptible, he would keep the documents safe and the seal on the envelope un-broken. The only hotel the judge had heard of was The Grand, Buck reckoned the prudent justice hadn't known just how grand the Grand was.

"So do you wish to accompany me on my foray into the retail facilities of this metropolis or not?" Standish didn't wait for an answer as Mr Taylor appeared at that moment.

"Mr Standish is it?" he stared hesitantly.

"Ezra P Standish at your service, sir."

"I am so sorry, we did receive the booking from his Honour but it was misplaced, the town is full right now. There is a convention of grain merchants and one of temperance campaigners."

"Temperance? Ain't that a bunch of women who want a man to stop drinking?" Buck enquired.

"Indeed, they are good for business unless they're staying in your hotel," the manager confirmed.

"They ain't stayin' here, are they?"

"No. The thing is I only have one room left."

"We require two rooms," Ezra pointed out.

"I am sorry, it is our best room, the Presidential Suite," Taylor offered hopefully. "The thing is I would offer to get you rooms at another hotel at our expense but I don't believe you will find another room, not today, not anywhere respectable…"

"Hell, we don't need respec…" Buck began.

"We will take the suite," Ezra stated firmly.

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Since it was now nearly two they had the porter take their bags up to the room and headed out into the city to find some lunch. Buck agreed to explore with Ezra, for some reason he just didn't feel comfortable in the city. He had been in big cities, as a boy he had even lived in a few. But it had been years since he had last entered a large metropolis and he realised he had become accustomed to space around him, accustomed to being able to stroll down a street without dodging other people, and accustomed to people saying 'howdy' as he passed.

They explored the main shopping areas; Ezra all but pulled him into a haberdasher, selling 'Fine Gentlemen's Apparel'. Buck had never felt more self conscious than in that shop and the men looked disdainfully at his well worn leather pants, faded jacket, frayed blue patterned shirt with no tie and large bandanna. Of course the Colt Peacemaker was also getting some attention. He idly looked at the shirts and suits on offer as Ezra did some serious shopping.

"What do you think?" Buck turned around to see Ezra wearing a new silk shirt; it hugged his chest and arms, enhancing his finely sculpted muscular frame. He gave Buck a quick spin.

"Umm…" Buck gulped. "it, errr, it looks real fancy Ez, real …fancy."

Ezra turned back to look at himself in the full-length mirror. "Indeed it does, pure Chinese silk, feel it."

"Feel it?"

"Yes, have you ever owned a silk shirt?"

"No." "Come on."

Buck knew Ezra wasn't about to give up so he crossed the shop to Ezra and felt the edge of the shirt. "Real smooth Ezra, how much?"

"Well, imported silk does not come cheap, but it does last. Now, how about purchasing a new shirt yourself, we will be dining in the hotel tonight, you will need to change, you did bring what you laughingly call your 'best' suit, didn't you?"

"You know I did, and by the way I heard you tell the porter to unpack it and have it pressed. What's the matter Standish, think I'll let you down? Think I'm gonna show you up?"

That was on the back of Ezra's mind, not that he would ever admit it to anyone, least of all Buck. But he was also looking forward to spending some time with Wilmington away from the others, somewhere where they weren't known. And as much as he didn't want Buck to show him up, he wanted the big gunman to feel comfortable.

"No, I only wish for you to look your best."

Buck frowned, there was something in that statement he wasn't getting, or at least he was getting and was trying to ignore.

"I don't need another shirt, so pay the man and let's get out of here."

Ezra didn't press the point; he just smiled and shucked off the shirt as Buck watched. He watched the fine sheer fabric slip easily off the smooth, hairless torso, he watched it slip over every hill and valley of the rock hard muscles, he watched as Ezra turned to him, his movements to remove the shirt enhancing his hard washboard abdomen. Buck all but gasped before he stopped himself.

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Buck wasn't the only one noticing clothing. Ezra had been noticing Buck's leather pants ever since the gunman had put them on when they set out two days ago. Wilmington didn't wear the tan pants often,

Ezra surmised they had been purchased at a time when Buck was living in a colder clime and, looking at the pattern of wear, a time when he spent all day in the saddle. The leather had molded itself to the trim man's lean form. Ezra found his eyes forever drifting to Wilmington's crotch, the leather matched the topography of the man perfectly, especially while he sat opposite Ezra on the train, long legs stretched out in front of him, dozing as the train rocked along for hour upon hour. Ezra envied Buck his ability to sleep at anytime and anywhere. As he sat there gazing at the man he began to wonder what was under that leather, Buck was a big man, from the look of things he was big all over, but just how big, Ezra would never know, but nothing could stop his imagination.

By the time they left the shop it was cold and getting dark. Hurrying back to the hotel they headed up to the Presidential Suite. Seeing their room for the first time, Ezra tried to look nonchalant, as if he wasn't impressed, which he was. The room was large, the bed huge. Off to one side was a private bathroom with its own fireplace and a huge copper to heat the water.

"I suggest we bath and change for supper," Ezra announced as he crossed the room. He eyed Buck's suit, now ironed and hanging on the outside of the closet. "Do you want the first bath?"

"What?" Buck had been staring at the room, its carpet was so deep he thought he was walking on a mattress, it was so large it almost touched the walls. There were cut crystal glasses next to a crystal water pitcher on the table and a leather writing set at the desk under the window. The fire in the grate blazed, flanked by two high backed comfortable chairs. And suddenly he knew why Ezra was forever in search of money, for if this was what he was searching for, he could understand a man searching for this kind of luxury.

"I asked if you wanted to bath first?"

"Oh, no you go ahead, I'm just gonna sit here for a bit."

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Ezra lay back in the water and sighed. This was a proper bath, cast iron enamelled with a roll top and brass fittings. The hotel soap was also top quality; he idly wondered what a suite like this cost if you were actually paying for it. But his mind quickly left the hotel and was back on Wilmington's crotch and the contents therein. And, as his imagination drew him pictures, his hand stroked his shaft as it grew and thickened. He closed his eyes as the visions became more intense and his hand worked faster, until he found release, watching his seed spill out and snake away into the warm water.

<><><><><><><>

Ezra wasn't the only one remembering clothing. Try as he might Buck couldn't get his mind off that silk and the way it moved over Standish's skin. He wondered if the skin was as smooth as the fabric, would it feel like warm silk under his fingers or more like velvet? He imagined his fingertips were the shirt, caressing, touching, clinging to the warm, firm body below. He wasn't even aware that his hand was between his legs and beginning to rub at his shaft through the leather until he unconsciously began to move faster. Then he suddenly stopped. His hand flew away from his body as if it were suddenly on fire. He wouldn't go there again; no he had sworn not to, it was just too risky. Ezra was flirting with him, had been for the last two days, he had even caught him 'looking' at him back in Four Corners and he had refused to give the southern - damn attractive southern - dandy any encouragement.

"Bathroom's free." Buck all but leapt from his chair in fear at the sound of Ezra's voice behind him, as if the man could look at the back of his head and know what he had been thinking and doing.

"Oh, well alright, I'll just, that is, I'm gonna have a bath now." With that he headed to the bathroom as fast as he could. He didn't dare look at Standish, standing there still damp from the bath, a thick plush white towel wrapped around him like a roman toga, one muscular thigh showing almost all the way to the top of the hip, one powerful pectoral muscle with its erect nipple and dark halo all but winking out from behind the white fluffy cocoon.

Ezra on the other hand, took a good long look at Buck when he exited the bathroom. His towel was wound around his slim hips, his skin flushed pink and steamy from the hot water. Water droplets fell from his still wet hair and even from his moustache as he walked. Ezra watched the way the sway of his hips moved the soft cotton fabric. Just as he was imagining what Buck looked like under the towel he spotted something he had never seen before. A series of small scars fanning out across Buck's lower back. They stood out white against the flushed skin, no doubt most of the time they were invisible. Ezra could think of only one thing that would make a series of scars like that. But curious as he was they had dinner reservations in the hotel dining room, so he said nothing.

Buck was faced with a dilemma. It was fall and it was cold, though the room was warm enough, and he would normally wear his faded red union suit under his clothes, but he was clean now, he couldn't remember having a better bath than the one he had just had, the union suit on the other hand he had been wearing for three long days. The only alternative was his light weight cotton shorts with a draw string waist. In the end there was no contest, he wanted to be clean, his suit he had to admit, looked pretty good all brushed and pressed and with a fresh white shirt on he would look pretty damn fine. Ezra did at least have the good manners to go into the bathroom to brush his hair while he changed.

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If Buck thought the reception was fancy, the dining room was like a fairy tale, there were mirrors on the walls, on any wall that wasn't a window there was a huge mirror. There were huge chandeliers, and silver candlesticks on every table, tables that were covered in the finest white damask tablecloths.

"Ah Hell, Ez this place is fancier than a June bride!"

"Indeed it is, let us take our table." "Ez, I can't afford it."

"No but I can, I shall treat you to a real meal my friend, a treat on me."

"You're gonna pay fer me t' eat?" Ezra nodded. "Eat here, at this place, at these prices?"

"Indeed I have been most successful at the tables lately and on the train, while you slept I found several well endowed gentlemen who were interested in profitable game of chance."

"Profitable for you, you mean."

"Indeed."

"Well hell, if you're gonna pay, lead on."

They ate well, very, very well, Buck prided himself he could eat well, but he almost didn't stay the course there was so much food. There was so much food the meal took nearly three hours. To start with they had oxtail soup and sherry, then there was lake trout and egg sauces with which Ezra ordered white wine, a whole bottle which they finished before the next course. The fish was followed by braised short ribs with hot biscuits, for this they had a bottle of claret, the main course was prime roast beef with browned sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, green beans and sweet corn. They finished the claret and ordered a bottle of Madeira with their dessert, greengage pie and whipped cream. The Madeira finished they moved on to port with their cheese, bread rolls, nuts and raisins. Finally they finished with coffee and brandy.

"Shit, Ezra! I have never eaten so much in one go in my life - never!" The tall man sat back and tapped his full belly contentedly. "Thanks."

Ezra gazed at him, face flushed with the wine, a contented smile on his face. He was pleasantly surprised to find there was not one crumb of food caught in the thick moustache. Blue eyes twinkled merrily in the flickering light of the dying candle.

"It was my pleasure I assure you."

"Don't know about you, but I don't wanna go anyplace right now but bed."

**Oh yes I want to go to bed alright I want to go to bed with you.** Ezra mused to himself.

"Indeed, I too would welcome my bed at this time."

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Ezra once more used the bathroom first, while he did Buck kicked of his boots and socks and walked about over the thick rich carpet, luxuriating in its deep softness, curling and uncurling his toes in the pile. He glanced at the door, wondering what was taking Ezra so long. He slipped out of his jacket and pulled off his tie, undoing the top three buttons of his shirt. Still Ezra didn't show. He put more wood on the fire, sat and gazed at it for a long time, still Ezra didn't come.

He stood and wandered to the window and gazed at the gas lit street below him, it was a long way from busy, but there were far more people up and about than in Four Corners at the same time of night. As he stood there he heard the door open and watched Ezra come out into the room. He considered asking the man what the hell he had been doing in there all that time, but couldn't be bothered, he was still nicely drunk and in an indulgent mood. Standish was wearing only his pants and this time Buck did take the time to look at the beautiful sculpted body before him, and involuntarily his stomach tightened. Without speaking he just walked past Ezra and into the bathroom. Whatever Standish had been doing, there was no evidence in the room now. Buck washed, brushed his teeth and went back into the bedroom to find Ezra already in the huge bed. The lamps were out and the only light came from the fire in the grate, so it took him a second to two to realise the man was bare- chested.

"Um, Ezra ain't you gonna wear a nightshirt?" he asked.

Standish all but giggled. "The sheets," he said cryptically.

"What about the sheets?"

"They're satin, we've got satin sheets, you have to feel it against your skin, it's the most amazing feeling."

Buck just stared at him. "Satin - like the stuff rich women have their draws made out of?"

"Oh, yes."

"My."

"Come on, you must feel it."

If Buck had been sober he wouldn't have done it, but he was drunk, not roaring drunk, just happy, uninhibited drunk. He pulled off his pants and shirt and in his skimpy under shorts he slid between the sheets.

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed.

"I know, amazing isn't it?"

Buck allowed his long body to slip down to lie flat on his back under the sheets. "Even the pillows are satin."

"Indeed, this my friend is true luxury."

The two men just lay there in silence, experiencing the amazing smooth, sensual feel of the satin against their skin. Fingers spread out and explored the bed below them until they inevitably met. Finger touched finger. Tracing between them, mapping the backs, circling wrists. They still didn't look at each other. Ezra moved his own hand a little closer to his hip, pleased that Buck's long fingers stayed with him and as he did. He pulled those long fingers against the side of his buttocks, his naked buttocks. It took Wilmington a moment to realise what he was feeling. He suddenly pulled his hand back.

"I'm sorry Ezra, I can't, that is I don't, I … sorry." With that he rolled over and presented Ezra with his broad back.

If Ezra had been entirely sober he would have apologised and that would have been the end of it - if he had been sober he wouldn't have got into bed naked in the first place. But he was - like Buck - drunk.

"Why not, I've been flirting with you for three days, you didn't tell me to stop, you've been looking, seemed to me you where appreciating what you saw. I played footsie with you all through dinner, you didn't stop me or pull away?"

Buck sighed. That was all true, so why shouldn't Ezra be surprised at his apparent sudden coolness.

"I'm drunk Ezra, that's why I didn't stop you."

"Bullshit, you weren't drunk in the shop, you weren't drunk while I was in the bath and you weren't drunk at the beginning of the meal. Here we are in the lap of luxury, where no-one knows us, why shouldn't we have some fun, we both want to."

"Ez, I don't…"

"Yes, you do. I'm drunk too, but not that drunk, I know desire when I see it. So tell me why?"

The drink was having its inhibition loosening effect on Buck as well as Ezra, because he was about to tell Ezra something he had never told anyone before - not even Chris. Buck drank, he liked to drink but he mostly drank beer, and he was a big man, it took a lot of beer to get him even happy drunk. The equivalent of a bottle of wine, half a bottle of port, half a bottle of Madeira, a large sherry and two large brandies in quick succession were having an effect.

"It's too risky Ezra, we could get caught, it's too dangerous."

Before he said anything else Ezra was out of bed, trotting unselfconsciously across the room to the door were he turned the key in the lock. Buck watched, not knowing how he was feeling about it, but he couldn't help staring at the gambler's half-hard cock as is swung and bounced in front of him, he noted the deep luxurious chestnut curls that surround the base of the shaft. Ezra slipped back into bed.

"No one will find out, no one will surprise us," he assured.

"Please don't push Ezra."

"I want you, and you want me. What's the problem? Tell me."

"If I do, you don't tell no one else?" He heard himself say it and yet it was if he was listening to a stranger.

"What goes on in this room, stays in this room I swear, I would swear on my mother's life but you've met her so I know that carries no weight with you."

That at least got a slight smile although Ezra couldn't see it. "So what do you swear on?"

"My wallet?"

"Now I believe you. Did I tell you I used to be a lawman, I mean a real lawman, badge and everything?"

"Yes."

"It was down in Texas - don't tell that scruffy tracker but I hate Texas - I was a deputy, up in the north. Just out of the army, I needed some beauty in my life I can tell you."

Ezra could identify with that, the civil war was an ugly time. Buck wasn't the only veteran to seek beauty after all that ugliness.

"I found it in a Jason. He was a year younger than me. His father owned the biggest ranch for miles around, Jason had two older half brothers, so he didn't reckon he had much of a future as a rancher, other than as unpaid dog's body, he was planning to leave, go west, well further west, California. Then we… well we became involved, fell in love, at least it felt like love at the time, so he hung around. We were at the lake, our place, we thought we were safe, it was miles from anywhere, the canyon sides were too steep for cattle so no one came anywhere near it - usually." He took a deep breath, it was all too clear to Ezra how difficult this was.

"Someone must have seen us, because before we knew what was happening my boss, his father and both brothers were there, guns drawn. Old man Kelly - Jason's father - he was hard man, but most said he was fair, but not that day. We were both naked, Sheriff Lang held a scattergun on me while the old man beat Jason half to death while his brothers held him. I begged him to stop, I tried to get up, but Lang swung that gun at me, hit me across the head so hard I couldn't hardly see straight. When he was done and my beautiful golden lover was just a bloody unrecognisable mess, he mounts up and his sons - Jason's own brothers - throw him up in front of the old man like a sack of grain. As they left he said to Lang. 'Get rid of him - permanently.'

"Lang told me to turn around and kneel. I knew what was gonna happen. So I got at close to the edge as I could. See we were on a flat rock over hanging the water. I heard him pull the hammers back and I jumped."

"Just as he fired," Ezra speculated.

"How did you know that?" Buck turned his head back to look at Standish over his shoulder.

"I saw the scars on your back, I suspect they are only visible when your skin is flushed from a hot bath."

Buck nodded. "I don't even remember they're there most of the time. I stayed under the water until I got to the reeds on the other side, I always was a good swimmer. That bastard fired into the water six or seven times, searched for hours, but he never found me. I couldn't go to any doctor around there, had no horse, no clothes 'cause Lang took them with him. I walked at night, till I found a farm, stole some clothes, walked until I got to the next farm, must have passed out. The were real good to me, got a good doc in to dig out the lead, tended me 'till the fever broke, let me work until I could afford a horse, boots and a new gun."

There he stopped. After a long time Ezra felt compelled to ask what happened to Jason.

"I got hold of a copy of the paper, from that town. It said he died tragically falling from the hay loft."

"His father beat him to death," he speculated.

Buck nodded.

"This isn't Texas, I don't have a father and believe me even if my one parent were here, she wouldn't care who I spent the night with, so long as it didn't cost her money." Ezra got closer to Buck and brushed a single gentle kiss to the shoulder before him.

"Don't let the ghosts of the past rule your present," he breathed, more gentle kisses followed, moving across the smooth back. "Don't let the Lang's and Kelly's win." The kisses moved down Buck's spine, brushing every vertebrae. He felt the warm body below his kisses spasm, the back arched and shuddered, but he didn't stop. He let his hand snake out and over Buck's chest, he spread out his fingers, mapping the lean abdomen, moving up to intertwine in the soft sparse chest hair. The kisses moved back up toward the neck, and finally found their way to the soft ear lobe. Buck gasped, he all but moaned in illicit pleasure. Ezra finally pulled away. "If not now, when? Life is short, especially for men in our profession, we must take our pleasure where and when we find it."

Buck sighed and finally turned to face Ezra. "You are beautiful you know."

"And you are very handsome. Tell me what do you want right now? At this very moment what do you want to do?"

Buck looked deep into the face before him, eyes he knew to be green illuminated in dancing firelight, soft skin glowing like gold, lips full, flush and inviting. Very slowly he moved forward and very tentatively he captured the lips, just gently at first, waiting to see what Ezra's response would be. He didn't have to wait long. Eager lips returned the kiss a hot skilled tongue worked its way into his mouth, exploring and exciting. The kiss was deepened on both sides, only ending when the need for air overcame the mutual desire.

"Well my, mmm I can see why the women keep coming back. Goodness me," Ezra complimented. Buck looked down, suddenly shy for some reason that he didn't understand. Shy and bed were not words that normally went together in Buck's world. "Was Jason the last time you did this?" he asked.

Buck nodded. "What about you? Do you, I mean - oh hell."

Ezra placed a gentle finger on the slightly stubbled cheek before him. "It's alright. I have lain with men before, and women. As it happens I prefer men. It has been sometime since I lay with either. We do not all have your charm or your appetites," he added with a grin.

The finger traced down over his cheek, down across his moustache, and finally over the bottom lip where it lingered long enough for it to be captured and sucked. Finally Buck released it. Ezra all but moaned as his finger was set free.

"So, right now what do you want to do?" Buck asked.

"I don't want to do anything right now." Buck frowned and was about to speak, when the finger, still warm and damp was placed on his lips.

"I want you to make love to me."

"Are you sure?"

"I've never been any more sure of anything in my life."

Buck smiled softly and rolled over again, one long leg stretching over Ezra until he was kneeling over the smaller man, very aware of the erection brushing his abdomen.

"Last chance Ezra, once the Wilmington animal magnetism is unleashed nothing can stop it," he warned, with a return of the old Buck charm and confidence.

"Ravish me, Wilmington!"

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And he did, more than once. They finally fell asleep entwined in each other's arms, sated and warm. Buck pressed up against Ezra's smaller frame, holding the man in his arms, ever the instinctive protector. When they eventually roused themselves in the morning, they debated long and hard about the possibility of stealing the satin sheets and getting away with it. In the end the fact that they were booked in under the Judge's name persuaded them not to. Much to their mutual regret.

End