Chapter Text
The feeling of incredible lightness was followed by a pleasant tingling sensation, and Brave Starr's next sensory impressions were that he was suddenly lying flat on his back, warm, soft sand and a slender body on top of him. Unnoticed by either of them, their shirts were lying in the sand next to them, along with everything the Marshal had pulled from Tex's pockets and then placed on the table in the interrogation room. After all, it had become second nature to Tex Hex to teleport everything that belonged to him.
Brave Starr caught a brief glimpse of a patch of sky and jagged cliffs before Tex's familiar face appeared in his field of vision.
Grinning, Brave Starr pushed his hat from his head and tore off his scarf.
He stroked his dark fingers over the other man's warm skin with relish, gently scratching the large, jagged scar across his chest with his fingernails, then placed his hand directly on the left nipple divided by the scar and stroked it, eliciting a soft sigh from Tex.
"That must have been painful," he murmured softly.
Suddenly he had to think back to what had happened just a few minutes ago, how Tex had begun to bleed from his scars, including this one, and he felt guilty.
He had always wondered where all those scars had come from, but now he knew that they had been made in the last four and a half years, since he had taken up his position as planetary marshal and stood up to that scoundrel.
"My marshal," Tex sighed, "my greenhorn. My beloved nemesis."
And then that silky mustache tickled him again, and a cheeky tongue explored his mouth.
Brave Starr immediately sighed into the kiss, burying his hands firmly in Tex's bare back, feeling all those muscles under his skin, feeling a scar or two there, too.
Him, his deputies and Stampede.
Falls, stab wounds, gunshot wounds and claw wounds.
The guilt welled up in him again for a moment, but then Tex's tongue was back and his incomparable taste washed all thoughts away.
Brave Starr felt his shoulder blades and vertebrae move as the other snuggled close to him, felt his body heat, that incomparable skin-to-skin feeling, and involuntarily pressed against him.
Tex gasped softly as the marshal suddenly thrust his crotch toward him, and their arousal - separated even by the fabric of their pants - suddenly rubbed hard against each other.
It was only with the greatest of self-control that he stopped himself from going down on the younger man. He quickly moved his lower half out of harm's way by sliding down a little, at the same time pulling away from that beautiful, dark, broad, muscular torso.
He rested his forearms on the sand next to Brave Starr's head and ran his fingers through his hair, gently unraveling the braid.
He looked into his marshal's heated face for a long, long time.
"I told you, long hair suits you better."
He cooed softly to himself, and it was that shimmering sound, so sorely missed, that caused the marshal to pull his desperado down to him again, to wrap his arms and legs around him equally, and to spread breathless kisses down his neck, his nose buried in the silky hair, his eyes narrowed to two small, glowing slits.
But then a hot wind blew in dust and sand and small stones, and he remembered why they were actually here.
"Are these really the Iron Mountains?" he asked skeptically.
Tex, who had buried his nose in that fragrant spot under Brave Starr's ear, didn't look up and just snuggled closer.
Only reluctantly did he deign to answer.
"You didn't tell me where to go, so I just led us to the foot of the highest mountain here."
The Marshal let his eyes wander searchingly over the cliffs, always aware of the weight of the other, the wonderful pressure in all the right places, and the devoted nibbling at his earlobe that Tex had now taken up.
And he heard and felt the beating of his heart, close to his own, felt every deep breath, basked in the warmth of his body.
But as hard as it was for him to control himself, the wind out here carried a lot of sharp metal dust along with everything else, and he didn't want to hurt himself or Tex any more.
"There," he finally found it.
He stretched out his right arm meaningfully.
"Up there! Can you get us to that plateau?"
Tex sighed in surrender, half-turned - still lying on top of him -, fixed his gaze intently on the designated point and murmured:
"Your wish is my command."
***
"Come!"
As soon as they had rematerialized on the plateau, Brave Starr was pulling at his hand.
Tex sighed again, picked up their belongings - yes, he had teleported everything with them this time - and let the dark-haired man pull him along.
Brave Starr was really excited, and half a minute later Tex understood why.
"Wow!"
He turned around in amazement as his eyes scanned the rock faces, wandering upward, admiring the light that fell on them, then examining the sand under their boots.
"It really almost looks like..."
"Yes!" the marshal interrupted with flashing eyes, grabbing his left hand and freeing it from the glove.
"It does look a bit like our jungle cave."
The gaze of one brown eye sank deep into his lover's as he planted a cautious kiss on Tex's now bare palm. Tex shivered.
"And the best part," Brave Starr continued in a raspy voice, "is that it's all mine. When I stumbled across it two years ago, I couldn't help myself. I just had to have it."
"But, Brave Starr," Tex was genuinely shocked, and stroked Brave Starr's forehead with his free hand, first with that very special, always cheeky curl, and then with his fingertips gently over the scabby scratch where the crystal shard had hit him on the cheek.
"Why would you do such a thing? Why would you buy something that reminds you of a place that only hurts you needlessly?"
Smiling, Brave Star grabbed the hand, tore off the glove, and planted a soft kiss on the scar on the back of his hand. He also caressed the scraped and bruised knuckles.
The longer he was with Tex, the more details he remembered. Including how he had taken his anger out on harmless trees and ruined his beautiful hands.
"Who said that? I like to remember what happened in the cave. Only what happened after..." he finished the sentence meaningfully.
And although there was no reproach in his voice, Tex bowed his head in shame.
"I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you like that."
"I know..." Brave Starr replied quietly. "And now..." Grinning, he pulled the other closer and scratched teasingly at his left thigh, just above the inside seam of his chaps.
It was a touch that could be felt even through the leather and fabric of the jeans underneath.
Tex gasped softly and involuntarily pushed himself toward him.
Brave Starr smiled contentedly while the butterflies in his stomach did a real number on him.
"I have to make up for something, my dear. I wasn't very nice before. Can I make it up to you now?"
Of course, he didn't wait for an answer. With a deft grip, he simply levered Tex Hex out of the way, and as he went down with an amused "Really, Marshall," he caught him just in time, lowered him gently into the sand, and then sat down on his hips, grinning broadly.
"Very greedy today," Tex remarked as the marshal grabbed his wrists, pushed his arms into the sand, and pinned him beneath him.
"Greenhorn," he added teasingly, lifting his hips toward him as he had done before.
Brave Starr groaned in pleasure and returned the pressure.
"I haven't been a greenhorn for a long time," he rumbled, gyrating his hips vindictively.
"You'll see."
And it wasn't long before they were rolling around tightly entwined in the sand, locked in a playful struggle for dominance that was finally interrupted by them tearing the last of their clothes off each other.
***
"Good heavens!" Tex Hex reared up, gasping, and then fell back into the sand, trembling.
Weakly, he tried to pull the marshal up by his long, raven black hair, but finally gave up as another shudder ran through him.
With a truly wolfish grin, Brave Starr pushed himself up to him, snuggled close to the man beneath him, and licked his lips with relish.
"Who taught you that?" Tex finally managed to say in a trembling voice.
Brave Starr smiled and kissed him tenderly, letting him taste himself.
"I told you, I'm not a greenhorn anymore, my dear."
"Didn't you learn from your judge?" Tex sounded completely stunned.
"No," the marshal purred, while one hand drew gentle circles on Tex's thigh and the other gently brushed the sand from Tex's forehead.
And he watched the other man's reaction very closely and found it hard not to laugh when he actually stared at him as if he had suddenly grown a second head:
"From you, my beloved desperado."
***
In the infinite vastness of astral space, the world in between, the plane of spirits, a pair of golden and a pair of dark brown eyes watched the events in the cave with fascination.
"I told you their love would endure and ultimately prevail," the astral projection of a tall, slender, grey-haired man in a red cloak finally said smugly.
"Hrmpf," the half-dragon rumbled, gritting his teeth, "it's all right."
"So, as agreed, truce for all holidays?" the other asked, knowing full well that one always had to insist on clear words with the other.
"Truce," Stampede corrected reluctantly. "And yes," he growled, sighing heavily. "A deal is a deal. But, Shaman," a large claw jerked upwards meaningfully, "that was the last time I made a bet with you."