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fiepige · 9 months

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My concept for Venom!Hobie

Okay here goes

DISCLAIMER: I CANNOT DRAW

I've made another post where I mentioned it as well but I'll reiterate it here:

I don't think Hobie would ever canonically accept a symbiote due to his history with them and how they're used in his universe.

Now with that out of the way let's speculate!

This is my concept sketch for Venom!Hobie

Before I go into details about the design and the possible way he would work in universe:

I wanna give the world's BIGGEST shoutout to @levionok for being the coolest person ever and actually make some AMAZING drawings of Venom!Hobie:

(Like how cool is this!?!?!!! I love these so much!! aaaaahhhhhhhhh<3 <3<3)

Okay so, first I wanna talk about his design and then I wanna speculate about the most "realistic" ways I think Venom!Hobie could come into existence/what his personality would be like.

Design:

I wanted the symbiote to exaggerate some of Hobie's physical features so I kinda went with the idea of Venom!Hobie being even lankier and spikier than regular Hobie/Spider-Punk (since the symbiotes seem to take more after the actual suit when it comes to their design I based most of their looks around how Hobie looks as Spider-Punk)

Since Hobie is already tall I of course imagine Venom!Hobie as being even taller/lankier.

Though due to his longer limbs he has a bigger tendency to walk crouched down on all fours (sixs technically?) as beautifully illustrated by @levionok above. (and less beautifully illustrated by me in the top right corner of my drawing lol)

Since Hobie also incorporates spikes into his looks I did the same for Venom!Hobie and added even more! He now has more rows of "mohawk" spikes, his choker spikes become longer and the same goes for the spikes from his jacket + he gets extra spikes along his back. He also gets spikes along his wrists! - He's a spikey boy!

Also all the spikes are made from symbiote "teeth" and could in theory be moved around on his body if he wanted to (though they mostly stay in place).

The "running mascara"-look (Idk what to call it lol) also carries over from Spider-Punk's mask and is once again even more pronounced in Venom!Hobie.

Now one of the more noticeable traits are the arms! I haven't figured every detail out yet, but so far the idea is that his arms split into two at the elbows but he's able to "fuse" them back into one arm if he wishes to (which he rarely does).

Also to get the idea across that it's his arm being split up I tried to add some symbiote goop between the two parts of the arms!

I kinda like the idea of him being able to change his "design" (changing his spikes and arms as he pleases) so to say, kinda referencing to him not believing in consistency and how he changes "filters" in his animation style! Though I picture him as looking like in the concept drawings above most of the time.

I'm also kinda toying with the idea of giving him barbed wire like webbing since I remember reading somewhere that Hobie apparently has used barbed wire instead of webs in the comics from time to time.

But I also headcanon Venom!Hobie as being more animalistic and more likely to just use brute force instead of webs.

He is fast when he's down on all fours (again sixs? idk lol)

Of course he also gets most of the classic Venom abilities and weaknesses (I haven't read the comics so I'm going off memory of the Venom movie which I've seen once like 5 years ago so please bear with me ^^')

The most noticable weakness being sound! I'll take a closer look at how this affects Hobie when I get to his personality/origin.

Okay that's all about his design for now, I might come back and add more stuff later if I come up with anything as this is still a new concept I'm workshopping (and inputs are greatly appreciated!)

Now we're moving on to his personality/origin as I feel like these two are very intertwined. Cause I feel like the way Venom!Hobie originates will affect his personality too! Let me explain:

So far I've come up with two possible ideas/reasons for Hobie to even bond with a symbiote in the first place and depending on which version you choose I feel like it would end up having different effects on his personality/how he handles the situation:

Scenario 1:

The symbiote is passed onto Hobie without him knowing!

Possibly from an encounter with the cops where a symbiote manages to latch onto Hobie as he kills its former host.

(Or maybe a villain manages to plant one on him somehow).

This would lead to a slow gradual "fusion" between Hobie and the symbiote as it would be very aware that Hobie is NOT exactly a fan of it and would do whatever he could to get rid of it/kill it if he found out about it.

If I recall correctly Eddie also wasn't aware of his symbiote in the beginning and only found out about it when it decided to make itself known. -(referencing the movie)

So I'd imagine a similar scenario here but instead of making itself known, the symbiote hides its presence from Hobie as much as possible while making small gradual changes to Hobie to prepare for an eventual fusion/take over.

Like slowly Hobie starts getting migraines whenever he plays his guitar or listens to loud music so he does so less and less without being even consciously aware of it.

At some point he even stops bringing his guitar with him on missions since he never uses it anyways and hey why did he even bring it in the first place? - I like to think that the symbiote is somewhat able to manipulate Hobie's thoughts over time to make him more susceptible to it.

Going to concerts also becomes a no no.

Hobie also changes his diet; the thought of going to the community garden just not appealing to him as much anymore for some reason. So he visits it less frequently until he also just completely stops going (affecting both his diet and his social life- the symbiote would want Hobie to be as isolated as possible to make him easier to manipulate).

Hobie doesn't realise it at first but he starts craving meat more and more and as time passes he also prepares his meals less and less until he basically eats meat raw. (I'm once again thinking about the movie and that lobster scene, though his symbiote would have to be a lot more sublte for him to not notice what's going on).

At this point Hobie would have to be almost completely isolated and under the influence of the symbiote for so long that it would finally feel "safe" making itself known, preying on his hunger (having been homeless Hobie has known hunger before but I imagine that the hunger that comes with a symbiote is its own unique thing and that it's rather extreme) and his declining mental health.

While a part of him would still very much hate it, Hobie would begrudgingly accept the symbiote and chaos would ensue.

And then of course the Spider-Gang would try and stop/save him cause they know that Hobie would never want this. Wether they're gonna be successful or not is up to interpretation.

Now personality vise I imagine this version of Venom!Hobie is gonna be mostly taken over by the symbiote and thus being more feral and animalistic. It most likely wouldn't talk a lot and mostly be focused on feeding (and like in the movie, its favourite food is gonna be humans. Hobie would try to make sure they only target cops but sometimes the hunger would win over reason).

I know this is pretty dark but I really can't imagine a positive scenario where Hobie would willingly accept a symbiote so this is my first "solution". (Though I also feel like his friends would intervene before he reached this point but still, I kinda like the idea of the slow corruption and the person not realising it until it's too late)

You still with me? Good, cause it's time for:

Scenario 2:

I'd wish that this one would be more positive but I guess that sadly isn't the case

In this scenario Hobie would have reached his breaking point.

He would have been through an experience so traumatic that he feels like a symbiote is his ONLY option.

(If I recall correctly he's reffered to himself as a "suicide machine" in the comics and this would really come into play here).

He'd become way more reckless and not really caring what happens to him in battle. He views this as his last resort.

Like maybe there's a new kind of symbiote that isn't weak to sound or fire and Hobie has no other way to defeat them than to get one himself.

The only positive is that Hobie would be more mentally in control as he's fully aware of the symbiote and how it can influence his mind.

He'd still have cravings for raw meat but he wouldn't have been as mentally unstable and only target cops/other symbiotes becomming kind of a double cannibal.

Once again his friends would try to stop him and he'd definitely be more resonable in this scenario than in the first one.

But he'd still push them away both to protect them and out of shame over his situation.

This time more of Hobie's personality would shine through but it still wouldn't be a very positive version of Hobie as I imagine any scenario with him having a symbiote would really have a negative impact on his mental health.

But still there's room for a happy ending if the Spider-Gang manage to get to him in time!

So yeah, both of these scenarios are kind of a bummer for Hobie (to put it mildly lol) but I honestly can't imagine a positive situation where Hobie would willingly accept a symbiote! (I'm more than happy to hear any takes you guys might have that prove me wrong though!)

Okay, I think that's everything for now!

I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions of Venom!Hobie!

Also let me know if there's anything you want me to elaborate on! Or of you just wanna talk Hobie or Venom!Hobie in general <3

If you made it this far you are honestly a champ and deserve all the gold stars in the world. As I sadly can't give you that have a GIF of Hobie smiling to cheer you up!

Also I wanna give another huge shout out to @levionok! Both for the amazing drawings of Venom!Hobie and for giving me the courage and motivation to share my concept of him! <3<3<3

also have another Venom!Hobie cause I can't get over how cool she made them look! If you haven't already you should really check out their tumblr! They have made some AWESOME ATSV art there!!!

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ofthecaravel · 10 months

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Cowboys Are Frequently Secretly Fond Of Each Other

A Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka fic where Danny is a cowboy and Sam really likes cowboys

Tags: Cowboys, closeted feelings, pining, angst, fluff, some steaminess at the end but nothing explicit, happy ending, stupid idiots

Words: 10k

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This was Danny’s favorite part of the rodeo, this final lap around the outer ring while whatever poor cattle lay protesting on the dirt ground, restricted by which expertly tied knot he decided to twist into his lasso for that evening’s show. And, yes, he did do it to get a good look at all the whistling girls that lined the fence, but mostly he did it because he wanted to listen to all those cheers and screams for him as long as he could before it seemed too cocky. When he was steering his trusty stocky steed around, with sweat rolling down his forehead and his chest heaving as he caught his breath, the only thing he could truly focus on was drinking in the sound of his name screamed again and again.

Imagine his surprise when he found something new to snap him out of the haze that the cheers drowned him in, no less on an otherwise standard night.

It was a face, staring up at him through a curtain of dark lashes and half obscured from the flannel sleeves it had burrowed into, propped up against the gated fence by impossibly long legs and worn out boots. At first glance, Danny figured it was one of the usual girls that rushed to the fence after the last knot had been tied, but as he approached and the face lifted higher to him, he realized it was neither. This was a man, fresh faced and femininely handsome, with his mouth ajar and his lower lash line glowing pale in the fluorescents, giving him the appearance of a doll in grubby country garb. Danny tried to brush his eyes past him without lingering too long, and yet when he rode past, he got a foreign shiver in the pit of his stomach that stabbed him anxiously. When he reached his exit area, he found himself riding past it, and the commentator made an amused remark about this extra victory lap as Danny took his hat off his head and shook his dusty curls loose. As he approached the man again, he was surprised to realize his hand had a shake to it as he leaned off his horse and planted his cowboy hat on the man’s head. For a fraction of a second, his pinky grazed the crown of his head, and the feeling of the silken quality of his hair brushing Danny’s knuckle was enough to make his throat go dry as he strode confidently on. There was a crest of yells and shrieks in the moments after he gave away his hat, but he didn’t dare sneak a peek over his shoulder, instead giving his usual wave and finally steering his horse through the exit.

Now, another thing Danny was used to was having a few girls flit up to him after the rodeo and pay him even more attention. If they were lucky, he’d buy them a drink and send them home with a kiss on the cheek, but he promised himself he wouldn’t let himself become the kind of rodeo sleaze that took advantage of the near rockstar mystique they held in a small town like Silver Creek. This gentlemanly approach didn’t keep them away, if anything it drew them in even more. But on that night, he noticed an acute lack of nervous titters trying to catch his attention as he tended to his horse in his stall. He still noticed the occasional peeking of pink lipped faces around the corner and muffled chatter outside the barn, but there wasn’t so much as a shoulder tap for him that night. Danny found himself a little annoyed at this lack of company, but was quickly rewarded when he eventually loped out of the barn and turned to find himself face to face with the boy with the dark lashes. He looked a little startled to see Danny, but eased into a shy smile.

“Hi,” he said, clearing his throat slightly. “Uh, I wanted to make sure you got your hat back before you left for the night.”

“Oh!” Danny laughed, running a hand through his hair. “Well, aren’t you a peach?”

“You sure were great out there,” the other man continued, his voice restrained and bashful as he held out Danny’s hat to him. “Everybody around me was totally jealous.”

“I suppose I’ve got a fan or two,” Danny smirked, plucking the hat from his hand. “Can’t say I’ve seen you here before. First time at a rodeo?”

“Oh, no, definitely not,” the other man chuckled. “My brothers and I moved here from Kentucky a few weeks ago, but we’ve taken so long getting settled in that it took me this long to scope out how you folks like to do it.”

“Did we live up to your standards?”

“Definitely not.”

He gave Danny a wicked grin and Danny’s eyebrow immediately shot up with a scowl. The ease of their conversation was fluttering his insides in a warm, almost uncomfortable way, but he couldn’t help but go along with this stranger’s bite.

“Really?” Danny fake scoffed and shook his head. “I find that hard to believe. The Deputy Star Rodeo is by far the best in the state, ask anybody.”

“Well, maybe there’s a reason it’s the Deputy Star and not the Sheriff’s Star,” the stranger shrugged innocently. He had a lingering smirk on his lips, and Danny let his gaze rest on them a moment longer than he meant to before he flicked his eyes up to meet his. At this close range and in the warm light leaking from the barn, Danny could see their dark honey color underneath all those lashes. For the first time, he felt himself rendered a little speechless. He was so bashful, yet so brash, and Danny was reeling.

“You ride?” Danny challenged. Immediately, the stranger’s face froze up, blinking a few times absently before shaking his head no. Danny frowned at his odd reaction.

“Well,” he started, shifting the hat in his hands for a moment before handing it back to the man. “If you’re gonna criticize our rodeo, I recommend you give it a try.”

The stranger, with an odd glint in his eye, reached out slowly and took the hat from Danny’s hand, never breaking eye contact.

“I’m Sam,” he finally introduced himself, putting it back on his head. Danny felt a quiet thrill at the sight, his hat on that head. Danny nodded and tipped an invisible hat of his own at him.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find my name in your program,” Danny purred, shooting him a wink before turning to walk away. He got a few feet before Sam piped up again.

“See you next week,” Sam called after him. “Danny.”

Danny, still walking, didn’t even fight the smile that crept onto his face.

On his next night off, Danny decided to spend some time at the local bar. He was pretty sore from the previous night's tussle with a particularly stubborn bull, and he knew a drink or two would help melt away some of the strain on his muscles. Having grown up in this town, Carson’s Bar and Grill was a staple that had gone largely unchanged since Danny’s youth, having mapped out its familiarities when he was a young boy tagging along with his father to get a cream soda while his dad shot pool. He’d already been thrown off his rhythm days prior by Sam, and changes seemed to be few and far between in his life, so Danny found himself nearly jumping out of his scuffed up boots when he swung open the door to Carson’s and was greeted by a swell of raucous fiddling. The occasional set of live music started up every once in a while, but Silver Creek only had a handful of musicians worth a lick listening to. And this fiddling was good. Really good.

Danny turned towards it and saw a man with flyaway chestnut waves sawing on a rickety old fiddle, his bright slice of smile on full display as his boot stamped on the offbeats. Several people had turned their tables towards him and were raptly watching, shouting and smacking their palms to the music. Next to the fiddler was a man on a chair, stamping his boots similarly and clapping along, his curls bobbing as he nodded his head. During a crescendo, both men scrunched their noses in unison, and Danny realized they had to be twins. The man on the chair cleared his throat before opening his mouth and singing along to the violin with a unique, scratchy voice.

“Johnny, rosin up your bow and play your fiddle hard,” he sang, his smile leaking through into the lyrics. “Cause Hell’s broke loose in Georgia, and the devil deals the cards!”

Danny couldn’t help but grin, his mood already considerably lifted as he approached the bar and ordered two fingers of whiskey, accepting it gratefully and nodding along to the music as he sipped it.

“Hey, Wagner, heard you lost your hat at Sunday’s show,” rasped the regular next to him, giving him a wry smile wrought with missing teeth. Danny laughed and shrugged.

“What can I say,” Danny said, lifting the glass to his lips. “If you give ‘em a piece of the action, it keeps ‘em coming back.”

The man chuckled and clapped a hand on Danny’s back before swiveling his stool to face the fiddle playing, leaving Danny to stare into his drink as he realized that what he said wasn’t entirely true. Now that he was thinking about it, he’d had three shows since the night he’d given Sam his hat, but he hadn’t seen Sam since.

Not that he cared. He finished his drink with a fast swallow and winced, burying the thought with the burn of the alcohol in his throat.

As if summoned, the first thing Danny noticed when riding out for his next show the following day was Sam. He was in a seat this time, chatting with the man next to him as if the show hadn’t begun at all. His flannel was loose and fluttered around his collarbone, and the jean cutoffs he was sporting were the shortest Danny had ever seen on a man. Positioned jauntily atop his plaited hair was Danny’s hat.

A day show for Danny meant a break from his usual tie down routine, instead getting to practice his breakaway roping, chasing down a steer with his lasso using tricks learned in early age that he now aimed to perfect. He stilled his ride in their stall, pulling the lengths of his lasso through his calloused hands, the rumble of the crowd and huffs of his target in the stall next to his lost on his ears as he tried to shake off an unexpected bout of jitters. He did this routine a thousand times, and the crowd ate it up every time. What was he getting so worked up about?

The announcer introduced him and the event, sneaking in a snide comment here and there about Danny’s prodigal rodeo history and his affinity for cattle, and Danny tried to let it calm him as he adjusted his position on the saddle and waited for the starting call. It beeped loudly and Danny was off, racing after the speedy little cow as he circled his lasso over his head. When he sped past, he snuck a side eyed look towards the bleachers where he’d seen Sam, and felt a stab of annoyance when he saw that Sam was still talking to the person next to him. He caught a glimpse of his full smile and Danny’s adrenaline piqued, whipping his head around and tossing his lasso blindly towards the steer, securing it around its throat as it kept anxiously buzzing around the arena. A chorus of cheers rose up and he slowed his horse, hearing his time score and curling his fist triumphantly when it was up there with some of his best times. Danny started his victory lap, tossing kisses and winks to the usuals gathering around the ring, scanning the droves of pretty faces and deciding if there was anyone he was particularly drawn to. Usually it wasn’t much of a struggle, but he felt strangely neutral about each face he passed, even cringing a little when he let his thoughts wander a little past where he usually let them go. Suddenly, none of them seemed very appealing at all. For the first time, Danny wondered where he could go after his second event later on to avoid any girls talking to him.

Danny decided to let one of the stable workers tend to his horse after the show, and everyone gave him a properly hard time when he insisted he needed to take it easy that evening. He made up a little white lie about a strained muscle and they all pitched in a cigarette and sent him off with a chorus of lighthearted yet condescending condolences. As Danny strode out of the barn, he stuck one of the cigarettes to his bottom lip and started digging in his jeans pocket for his box of matches.

“Need a light?”

There was Sam, standing where he’d been when he’d brought Danny his hat, only this time he was making no move to remove it and had his head tilted in an innocent curiosity. Danny let out an amused exhale through his nose, appraising Sam with an incredulous look as he removed the cigarette from his mouth and pinched it between his fingers.

“If you’re offering,” Danny answered, holding it out towards Sam. Sam pulled out a lighter from his impossibly small shorts pocket, Danny trying to not acknowledge how tight they clung to Sam’s toned legs as he spun the spark wheel and held the flame to the paper. It caught quickly and Danny brought it to his lips, inhaling deeply and nodding in appreciation as he let the smoke unfurl out through his nostrils, a trick some older cowboys had taught him. Of course, they’d taught him to impress the girls, but his reflexes told him to do it now.

“Can I bum one off of you?” Sam asked boldly, his eyes roundening ever so slightly in pleading.

“First my hat, now my smokes,” Danny mumbled, pulling one out of his pocket and handing it over to Sam, holding back a shiver as Sam’s cool fingers brushed his as he took it from Danny and lit it up. “Can’t say I appreciate being treated as a general store, stranger.”

“Stranger?” Sam parroted with a smile, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth as he leaned his shoulder against the side of the barn. “Can’t even remember my name? Owch.”

“I’m not sure you’ve earned it,” Danny snipped. “You don’t even pay attention during my events.”

Sam’s dark brows raised slightly as his cheeky smile spread across his tanned face, a little color seeping into his cheeks as he let out a little laugh. Danny’s brow furrowed further, his annoyance towards Sam growing even more.

“And how would you know that?”

It was Danny’s turn to flush, stalling his response by taking a deep drag of his cigarette and tossing a look over his shoulder as if he was looking for something or someone. He turned back to Sam after a moment, who was still wearing a satisfied grin.

“A true cowboy takes the time to acknowledge the audience all while corralling his cattle,” Danny explained steadily, as if he really believed that. “Plus, you’re still wearing my hat. I’d know my own hat from a thousand yards.”

“Ah,” Sam accepted, nodding sagely, clearly not buying it. “Hat, gotcha. Makes sense.”

“Who are you waiting for?”

“You.”

“Oh,” Danny said dumbly, beginning to grow frustrated by how much this person was stringing his nerves out with so few words. Sam’s mere presence was making him itchy from head to toe and he couldn’t pin down why. “What can I do you for?”

“My brothers wanted me to ask you if you came into Carson’s yesterday,” Sam explained, flicking ash off his cigarette.

“Yeah,” Danny answered simply. “Do I know them?”

“You might’ve recognized them as the yahoos with the fiddles.”

“Those were your brothers?” Danny blurted, his eyebrows shooting up. “Holy cow. They’re fantastic musicians, please give them my compliments.”

“Can do,” Sam muttered, a little bitterness in his voice. “I’m really just here to prove a point. I told them it was you who gave me the hat, but they didn’t believe me.”

“Were you there?” Danny asked, his heart beginning to race as he combed his memory of the night for a glimpse of Sam’s memorable face. “Gee, I don’t-”

“They thought you were way out of my league,” Sam chuckled, taking a long inhale of his cigarette and wearing it down to a nub as Danny blinked blankly at him.

“I…don’t follow,” Danny stammered as Sam dropped the cigarette and stamped it into the dirt with the heel of his boot.

“I didn’t think you would,” Sam giggled. “I guess what they say about a cowboy’s intellect isn’t too far off. So talented and yet…”

Sam clucked his tongue with a shake of his head and Danny grimaced, his cheeks flushing angrily as he took Sam’s blow. Sam approached him, gently sliding his hand up Danny’s bicep, his featherlight touch enough for all of Danny’s adrenaline to slam into him at once and slow his breathing.

“I’ll explain it real easy for you, cowpoke,” Sam said softly, lifting himself up on his tip toes and lowering his voice as he spoke in Danny’s ear. “I think you’re cute.”

Danny froze. Zeroing in on the feeling of Sam’s warm breath on his neck and the faintly sweet and smoky smell of his cologne, he felt a cold sweat break out over his skin as Sam chuckled against his ear and then lowered himself again, combing Danny’s expression as Danny fought not to let his cigarette fall from his lip. Danny recovered pretty quick, laughing softly and looking down at his boots, seeing how close Sam’s expensive seafoam green ones were to his own dusty, worn out pair.

“Ah,” Danny said quietly, hoping Sam didn’t see the heat he felt warming his cheeks. “Sorry, partner, I don’t quite swing that way.”

He met Sam’s eye, expecting disappointment written all over his face, but instead Sam looked disappointed with him. His brow was arched, his head was cocked again, and his body language said what he wasn’t saying: I don’t believe you.

Danny felt the need to prove himself to Sam, to really convince him that he was not interested in the slightest. That he was a real red blooded American cowboy with a girl on each arm. But once he’d said it and Sam was looking at him like he was an idiot, his mind started racing as he heard a little voice that he was all too familiar with speaking up in the back of his head, reminding him of just who had begun popping up in Danny’s dreams and driving him crazy during what was supposed to be his times of ultimate focus.

“Okay,” Sam answered softly, his hand still maddeningly pressing into Danny’s bicep, the layer of cloth separating their skin a godsend for Danny’s sudden onslaught of dizziness.

“It’s just…” Sam trailed off, finally removing his hand and shaking his head. “Nah, never mind. You have a good night, now.”

“What?” Danny asked after him, his heart one beat away from pushing its way out of his chest. “It’s just what?”

“You just…I don’t know,” Sam shrugged. “See, I was talking to this nice guy during the rodeo and he was telling me all about you. Said you’re not like the other cowboys ‘round here. That you’re real respectful to the ladies. Maybe a little too respectful.”

“I don’t do what I do for girls,” Danny retorted harshly.

“Of course, of course. It’s just that I knew a fella like that back home in Kentucky. Real nice guy, real respectful, did what he did and then went right home. Church every Sunday, dinner at his momma’s every Friday. Nobody ever saw him on a proper date with any of those buckle bunnies screaming his name night after night, even when all his other rodeo pals couldn’t keep their hands off of them.”

Sam took a pause, looking off into the distance at the setting sun and smirking to himself, rubbing the back of his neck. He slid his eyes back over to Danny, giving him a chill.

“I knew him,” Sam purred, sucking his teeth and grinning. “I knew him real well. And he reminds me a lot of you.”

Danny, cold again, did nothing more than watch Sam toss him a wink and saunter off, flicking the flame on his lighter on and off as he went. Danny's cigarette finally dropped from his mouth and sizzled out on the ground, and he snapped out of his stupor to curse and defeatedly crush it underfoot. Blood roaring in his ears, he wished more than anything in that moment that Sam would leave him alone and fuck off back to Kentucky so Danny never had to see his mocking grin and swaying hips ever again.

This sentiment didn't stay at the forefront of his mind for long, much to his chagrin. It seemed his subconscious had other opinions when late that night, with all the lights off and his cock in hand, it was the imagery of Sam’s curling lips and ridiculously small shorts that finally pushed him over the edge with a muffled cry of both satisfaction and frustration.

Danny figured that moment of weakness was nothing more than that, but decided that he’d do his best from that point on to avoid seeing Sam. It was Sam’s stupid insinuations that had put those thoughts in his head in the first place, so if he stayed away from him, he’d be sure to have a clear head again.

And yet, everywhere he turned, there was Sam. Since their smoke session outside the barn, Sam had shown up to every single rodeo. He’d cycle between his rotation of flimsy flannels, sometimes not even bothering to button them up, or he’d tie them up to expose his midriff. His hair would be loose in dark waves, tucked behind his ears, tied into braids, and even once he’d had two plaits encircling his head like a halo. The only consistency in his garb was Danny’s damn hat, sticking out of the crowd like a personal declaration of a vendetta against Danny’s dedication to not look at Sam.

And it wasn’t just Danny taking note of Sam’s glaring presence. His effeminate confidence was making waves with both women and men in the rodeo circles and everyone who frequented Carson’s, seeing as he’d started showing up with his brothers and playing piano along with them. He was becoming impossible to ignore, but still it seemed that he hadn’t made any actual friends since coming to Silver Creek. Danny had listened in on a conversation between two of the bareback buckers, hearing Sam’s name peppering their confusion surrounding how they each knew a score of people who had made a move on him and been kindly rejected, but only after they’d bought him a drink or two. Danny had frowned and tried to shake the information off, yet he spent the rest of the night spiraling about what the hell Sam was waiting for. And why did he care so much?

Eventually, Danny realized that there was nowhere for him to hide. Not from Sam, not from his own weird feelings about him, not from himself. He made a new plan: Talk to Sam again, only this time, he was going to get the last word. They’d be conversing on Danny’s terms. He could get some insight into what Sam’s whole deal was and then, finally, move on from the haze that Sam had somehow trapped him in.

After a quick afternoon show, Danny had practically bolted from the stables so he could catch the crowd as they trickled out from the stands. He stood awkwardly on the side of the gravel path and combed through the bodies until he caught a glimpse of a familiar slender figure. Sam was walking and talking with one of Danny’s regular groupies, tossing his braid crimped waves over the shoulder of his maroon flannel as he laughed at something she said.

“Sam!” Danny yelled before he had the time to think twice.

Sam startled and looked around him before spotting Danny on the grass, looking back to share a pointed look with the girl before giving her a pat on the shoulder and elbowing his ways sideways through the flow of people to get to Danny. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and kept a neutral smile as Sam walked up to him, that familiar smug grin already on his face.

“Hi,” Sam greeted, a giggle at the very end of the word. “Haven’t seen you in a hot minute.”

“Now that’s not true, you come to all my shows,” Danny pointed out. Sam rolled his eyes dramatically.

“You know what I mean.”

“If you wanted to see me, you could’ve found me after,” Danny plowed on, unsure of where he was going but too flustered to back out. Sam hesitated, looking genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t really sure if that was something I wanted to do after that painfully nice rejection you dealt me,” Sam admitted, some of the bashfulness that Danny had seen the first night they’d met starting to creep back into his voice.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t be friends,” Danny declared. He swallowed nervously once he said it and Sam raised his brows in surprise.

“Is that what you want to talk to me about?” Sam asked, his voice low and gravelly, sending a chill down Danny’s spine. “You want to be my friend?”

“I suppose I do,” Danny answered truthfully, taking off his hat and resting it over his chest. “I’m worried we got off on the wrong foot. I know adjusting to a new place can be tough and I figure it might be easier with a friend.”

“Oh, you and your Southern hospitality,” Sam laughed bitterly. “I’m adjusting just fine, if you know what I mean.” His grin became saccharine and suggestive.

“That’s not what I’ve heard,” Danny countered, the speed of his response against his better judgment. The grin slipped off Sam’s face without even a whisper of the petulant protest that Danny expected. Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes again.

“I don’t need your pity,” Sam snipped, crossing his arms. Danny knew Sam was trying to be cool, but even in his cut off shirt and high riding shorts, he looked like a sour faced child. He looked, above all, hurt. Danny’s heart lurched anxiously.

“It’s not pity,” Danny argued truthfully. “I’m not offering you any kind of charity. I just think you and I could be friends. Maybe even good friends.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at Danny, still unconvinced of Danny’s sentiment. But after a moment of deep thought, Sam looked over his shoulder and then back at Danny before extending a hand towards him, his eyes jumping everywhere but Danny’s own.

“Then let’s be friends,” Sam agreed, his lids fluttering slightly when Danny took Sam’s hand in his own.

“Fantastic,” Danny smiled, keeping his cool while an electric pulse shot through his body, its source at the cool center of Sam’s slim palm. “Can I buy you a drink at Carson’s or something? I’ve got the evening off.”

“How friendly,” Sam said sarcastically, pulling his hand away but smiling. “Sure. Let’s just cross our fingers that my brothers aren’t there.”

“Why?” Danny asked, trailing behind Sam as he started walking.

“If they see you buying me a drink, they’re going to really get the wrong idea,” Sam laughed, grinning at Danny over his shoulder like he hadn’t taken Sam’s teasing words like a rock to the face. Danny laughed, too, playing along with Sam’s light banter, trying not to trip over his own feet.

Once at Carson’s, Danny bought them both a beer and the two of them got caught up in a casual conversation about their surface level facts. Danny kept a dedicated list of the personal anecdotes that Sam shared with him; he’d been a horse fan since he was young, he had a sister that still lived in Kentucky, he liked Silver Creek but wasn’t a fan of its relentless heat. Danny kept note of other things too, like the way Sam bit the skin on his thumb and very clearly didn’t enjoy the beer Danny had gotten him but sipped politely anyway. He seemed to struggle keeping his eyes on one place at a time, especially when looking at Danny, and often started new topics in the middle of sentences he never got to finish.

It wasn’t until they had paid the tab and started heading out that Danny realized his plan of taking the lead in their dynamic and getting the last word in had gone completely out the window. He felt nearly drunk while he engaged in the conversation and listened keenly to Sam as they walked down Saguaro Ave., realizing absently that he actually wasn’t sure where Sam was going. But Danny followed him nonetheless, teasing Sam for the wandering way his legs moved as he ambled down the dirt road and sent lizards fleeing from the gravel he kicked up.

“Oh, please, I’m very graceful,” Sam insisted after nearly avoiding rolling his ankle on a particularly rocky patch of road. “I used to be a dancer, you know.”

“Yeah?” Danny inquired further. “Not sure if I can picture you as a ballerina.”

“Well, I wasn’t quite a ballerina,” Sam laughed, his cheeks glowing red in the golden hour sunlight that soaked them as it poured over the horizon. Sam began walking backwards to face Danny, and a thought popped into Danny’s head, simple and succinct:

He looks beautiful.

With flowing limbs and his tan skin burning amber in the dying light of the sun, he couldn’t kick the thought and the rush of emotions it brought. He wanted to walk away as much as he wanted to follow Sam right into the eye of the sun at his back.

For the first time in hours, he remembered that night where Sam had breathed that confession in his ear, and what it had done to him when he’d gotten home. Danny had been beyond ashamed the moment after he’d finished, and deep down he knew that shame of thinking of him that way and also that it had been Sam was what actually had pushed him to befriend him. How could he stay away? Should he apologize? Did he really swing the way he had promised he didn’t?

Danny was digging himself deeper into his own mind as he walked, not realizing he had fallen silent until Sam did too, looking at Danny like he was crazy until Danny blinked and shook his head.

“Pardon?” he stammered, which was met by a cackle from Sam.

“Where’d you get off to, partner?” Sam asked, mocking Danny’s drawl in the way he stressed ‘partner’. “Daydreaming?”

“That beer is going right to my head, it seems,” Danny lied, running a hand through his hair and shaking his curls out again, forcing a smile.

“Sure,” Sam said in his light tone that Danny knew meant he didn’t believe a word out of his mouth. “Well, I’ll let you off the hook just this once ‘cause we’re here.”

“Here?” Danny echoed dumbly.

Sam had strolled right up to the door of a small orange stucco house with wide pleated blinds and a half hearted row of flowers by the dusty welcome mat.

“Here, silly,” Sam smiled. “My house. I thought I’d have to ask you to walk me home but you didn’t ask any questions so I figured I’d just keep on keeping on. I hope I didn’t take you too far from your own place.”

“You kiddin’?” Danny laughed. “I live two streets down.”

“Wow. That’s convenient.”

“Why?” Danny asked a little too urgently and Sam arched a brow at him.

“For, you know, hanging out?” Sam answered. “Like friends do.”

“Yes,” Danny responded. “Of course. I just-”

“Don’t sweat it, cowboy,” Sam cut him off, digging a key out of his pocket and turning towards the door, looking back at Danny with a smile. “See you tomorrow?”

“That’ll be just fine,” Danny replied, mirroring his soft smile. “You have a good night now.” “You too. Goodnight.”

Danny watched Sam turn the key in the lock and open the door a bit, giving him one more smile before stepping inside. Before he could stop himself, Danny found himself speaking again.

“Hey,” Danny blurted out and Sam stopped in his tracks, facing Danny again with his doe eyes wide and mouth pursed in a moment of curious surprise.

“Uh,” Danny started again, growing hotter by the minute. “Your man in Kentucky. The one you said that I remind you of.”

“Uh huh,” Sam said softly, leaning his hip against the doorframe.

“What did you mean by that?”

“Like, why do I think you’re similar?”

“Yes,” Danny said, his voice quiet and a little desperate.

Sam looked at him for another beat, clearly fighting a smile.

“Well,” Sam began quietly, looking down at his boots for a moment before staring up at Danny through his lashes like he had during that first rodeo. “You’re just a couple of real nice boys who know how to keep their hands to themselves when it’d be real easy not to. You both pay attention to things that the other cowboys don’t.”

“Like?”

“Me.”

Danny’s jaw set and they stared each other down, Sam tilting his head maddeningly to assess Danny’s eyes quickly clouding.

“And were you two friends?” Danny asked, his words spitting in a way he didn’t have a grasp on.

Sam fell silent. He put a hand back on the door, looked Danny up and down, and then turned back into the house.

“No,” Sam answered curtly. “We were fucking, Danny. Goodnight, now.”

With another little smile and flick of his hair, Sam strode through the doorway and slammed the door behind him, the lock audibly clicking as Danny stood there beet red in the face.

Somehow, it was never brought up again. Starting the very next day, Danny and Sam were nothing but the best of friends, even if everyone in town had a very different idea of what was going on between them. They weren't wrong for jumping to conclusions, considering that despite the intense platonic line that seemed to have been drawn on both sides, Danny was falling deeper and deeper into his spiral. For him, the routine of his job and the time spent with other friends became a mechanical compulsion. Everything else to him was nothing but Sam, Sam, Sam.

He saw him before and after shows, met him for lunch on his measly excuse of a porch, and bought him a drink at the bar every night. Danny never seemed to grow tired of the endless roads their conversations took him down, and as far as he knew, Sam felt the same way. Sam had gotten a job pitching paints and cleaning supplies down at the general store. Even though he met all kinds of people every day, all Sam did was complain about them to Danny. That really made Danny feel special. On a night after a few too many cocktails, Sam had even said it to his face.

"You're the only person I actually like around here," Sam confessed with a rosy cheeked laugh, tapping his nails against his glass. "Everybody at work wants to hit on me or get to know me and it's just so blah. I can't talk to people like I can talk to you."

"I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," Danny chuckled, Sam's words mixing with the alcohol in his blood and warming him up.

"No way," Sam argued, his dark eyes and blown out pupils overtaking his face as he blinked blindly at Danny. "I'm extremely nice to you."

"Is that what you call it?"

"Oh, you love it."

And Danny did. He really, really did. As much as it embarrassed him, it was Sam's harsher tirades that tended to resurface all those terrifying feelings that Danny tried to push aside to keep their friendship alive. When Sam's tone turned cocky and jeering, all while grinning as sweet as honey while he took fun loving jabs at Danny, Danny would go home with his head spinning and his pants uncomfortably tight. What made it even worse is that Sam seemed to be well aware of his effect on Danny. He had been from the beginning, really, but his persistent flirtation under the guise of friendly teasing never went away. Despite his insistence that he had moved far past his initial crush, Sam liked to prod. And prod and prod and prod.

“Tell me something, Wagner,” Sam began one evening as they sat in rickety chairs on Danny’s leaning porch. “We’ve been friends for a month now.”

“Keen observation,” Danny interjected with a laugh, earning a smack on the arm from Sam.

“I wasn’t done, smartass,” Sam snapped, pointing at him with the neck of his beer bottle. “What I was going to say is that we’ve been friends for a month now and I haven’t seen you on a date one single time. Weren’t you saying you have your pick of the bunch with the rodeo girls?”

“Oh, come on now,” Danny muttered into a sip of his drink, his stomach flipping anxiously. “I do! I just, I’ve taken them all out already.”

“People come from all over the state to see you rope, cowboy. You’ve taken out every girl out of town and in town?”

“Maybe I have,” Danny grinned, winking and turning to stare at the lowering sun before he could catch Sam’s expression. Sam made an incredulous noise.

“You’re bad at being a cowboy,” Sam accused. It was Danny’s turn to exhale in surprise and offense.

“Bad at being a cowboy? Excuse you?” Danny sputtered, turning in his seat to face Sam, who was smiling smugly at staring firmly out across the street. “How does me not wining and dining a bunch of strangers make me a bad cowboy? I’m a great cowboy, thank you very much.”

“You just keep mentioning how you get hit on all the time by them,” Sam pointed out, a weird edge to his voice. “And you talk a big game. Clearly one of those things ain’t true and, you know what they say, lying isn’t a very becoming trait of a cowboy.”

“Oh, shut up. What do you care, anyway?”

“I don’t,” Sam said tightly. “I’ve just been meaning to inform you you’re a liar.”

“Congratulations, you found one thing I lied about,” Danny drawled sarcastically, rolling his eyes, a trait of Sam’s that he’d picked up. “Everybody lies. I bet you lie all the time.”

“Me? Nah, I’m a truthful little angel.”

“Come on, tell me a lie, Sam. Like you said, we passed the one month mark of friendship. Now we start getting into the real nitty gritty stuff.”

Sam was quiet, biting his tongue as he squinted in deep thought, his finely sculpted profile lit up from the sun in his face. Danny took the opportunity to look at him freely, his heart fluttering like a nervous teenager.

“I don’t know, man, I don’t think I can conjure a lie on the spot,” Sam finally spoke, shrugging and taking a deep drink.

“Then tell me the last time you lied to me,” Danny pushed on, kicking Sam’s boot with his own. “If at all.”

“Oh, today,” Sam answered immediately.

“What!” Danny laughed. “You answered so fast! What was it?”

“You never said I had to say what it was!”

“Tell me, come on.”

“No!”

“You’re cruel, Sam,” Danny declared dramatically, emptying his beer and shaking his head in disappointment. “I’ve never had a friend as cruel as you.”

“That still makes me special,” Sam whispered, smiling wickedly. It was almost as if he was saying it to himself, and Danny answered it with silence.

“Hey, we should do something tomorrow night,” Sam suggested. “To toast our friendship.”

“Is that a thing people do?” Danny asked, genuinely curious and trying not to be flustered. Here Sam was again, toeing the line that he himself had drawn.

“It can be a thing we do,” Sam answered, shrugging innocently again. “We don’t have to.”

“No, no, that could be fun,” Danny answered hurriedly. “Maybe it could be an excuse for me to fire up my oven and actually cook something.”

“You gonna cook me a meal?” Sam asked, his tone bordering between jest and apprehension.

“I can certainly try,” Danny offered as casually as he could. “Bring me some liquor and I’ll whip us up a certified feast.”

“And will we be eating out cans of the baked bean or corned beef hash variety?”

“No, no, it’ll be a proper dinner,” Danny insisted despite how his brain immediately started second guessing him. “What time you free?”

“I get off work at 5.”

“It’ll be ready by 6.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You’ll believe me when you smell how good it is from halfway down the block.”

“There you are talking a big game again,” Sam laughed, his eyes sparkling in the light. “Now my expectations are higher than hopes.”

The truth was that Danny was a horrible cook and an even worse liar, but as he listened to Sam roast him, he figured this might be a perfect opportunity to overcome both of those things. It could be a chance to overcome his lie of being a great cook and actually dish up a meal worth eating, but more importantly, a chance to overcome a particularly choice lie he’d been dancing around since Sam had come into his life.

After Sam had left, Danny made an official decision. He was going to make dinner, and then after, he was going to tell Sam the truth. Before that, he realized he had to figure out exactly what the truth was. Was it that he’d been breathless since he’d first seen Sam’s face? Or maybe that he’d been sure since long before he met Sam that he was much more prone to being sweet on other men? Danny felt tears springing to his eyes as he laid in bed staring at the ceiling, pushing them away with the rough heel of his hand as he tried to conceptualize how he could fit all his thoughts into a few succinct phrases. Would it be enough to simply tell Sam he cared for him in a way that he didn’t care for anybody else? God, would Sam even want to hear it? His worst fear was that Sam would think Danny just wanted him for the things that all the men Sam had grown to hate had wanted from him. A million questions passed through Danny’s head as he fell into a shallow, restless sleep, hoping he’d awaken with some kind of clarity about what to do.

He did not. Instead, Danny chose to chase the morning sunrise with a cup of coffee peppered with a healthy splash from his flask in it, staring hopelessly out the window at the town starting to come to life. It was a rare day where he didn’t have any shows, so he spent the day becoming acquainted with the cookbooks his mother had sent him with when he moved to Silver Creek. When he went through the grocery store line with more than two bags of supplies, the cashier looked genuinely proud of him.

“Got a special guest coming over tonight, cowpoke?” he asked, ringing up bags of vegetables and plastic packages of meat.

“Just decided I need a decent meal is all,” Danny answered.

Yes, he thought.

As he hauled his bags home, he wondered if it would be too much to get flowers. Not that there were any florists in Silver Creek, but maybe he could run around town and gather them from the sprouts of natural greenery that were few and far between. He passed the general store and peered through the window hoping for a glimpse of Sam, but came up short. He figured it was probably for the best, he didn’t want to freak himself out any more than he already was.

For anybody else, it probably wouldn’t have taken as long, but it took Danny the majority of the day to prepare their dinner, taking bites of the produce along the way to make it count as a “lunch”. It was a pretty simple brisket with a side of vegetables, but Danny was very cautious around his kitchen appliances, so he worked slow and steady and only cut his fingers once. He dragged out his only nice dining table cloth and set it down, standing idly with one hand on it as he had a mental battle about whether or not candles would be too extravagant of a touch, finally deciding against it with a wave of his hand. He stood in front of his mirror a while, switching between shirts before settling on a warm button down with its first few buttons undone. He shrugged jackets on and off before deciding not to wear one at all, hurriedly throwing on his cleanest jeans and equipping one of his more expensive belt buckles, seeing as it was a special occasion. The minutes before Sam’s arrival were spent panicking that he had gone completely overboard and over thought the entire thing. Danny wrung his hands and paced the length of his voice, circling the dishes in the kitchen a few times before Sam’s distinct knock rang out. Danny let out a quiet but hurried breath of anxiety before smoothing his sweaty palms against his jeans and striding over to the door, pulling together a calm and contented facial expression as he opened the door.

Sam smiled up at him, cradling a bottle of wine that leaned against his sky blue linen button down. It made his skin look even more sunkissed, along with his pale jeans and white cowboy boots. His hair hung down in thick waves and was topped by, once again, Danny’s tan cowboy hat. Sam hadn’t worn it in a few days and Danny laughed at seeing it, flicking the brim and stepping back to let Sam walk into the house.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing my own hat?” Danny joked as Sam set down the wine bottle.

“It seemed like it was an occasion special enough to warrant its usage,” Sam explained with a smile, looking around and catching a glimpse of the carefully crafted plates that Danny had assembled. “Well, I’ll be. You actually made dinner, you son of a bitch.”

“Have you no faith in me?” Danny asked as he waltzed into the kitchen and opened his silverware drawer to pull out forks and napkins for the both of them. “Come on, have a seat. I’m greatly looking forward to hearing you talk about how great it is.”

“I’ve always admired how humble you are,” Sam teased as he pulled out a chair and took a seat. “Got a wine opener?”

“You know I do,” Danny answered, pulling it out of the same drawer and curling it into his palm as he picked up the plates and brought them over to the table. He set the plates down in their places and handed the wine opener to Sam, who accepted it with a quiet ‘thank you’ and then proceeded to struggle greatly with actually using it. This was much to Danny’s amusement, who insisted over and over that he could just do it, but Sam struggled with it stubbornly until it popped open and he erupted with a triumphant yell.

They drank out of jam jars and cleaned their plates, much to Danny’s relief. Sam held out on him for the first few bites, but admitted that it was delicious and insisted he wouldn’t provide any extra compliments until Danny stopped clapping and cheering for himself. It wasn’t any different than the other meals and drinks they’d shared in recent times, but as Danny tried to distract himself by keeping up with Sam’s quick wit, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he was going to bring it up. He prayed a moment of quiet would arrive where he could slip in a quick interlude and just get it over with, but their conversations were never wrought with natural pauses. Eventually, they ended up in Danny’s tiny living room, clutching their jars of wine and sitting on opposite ends of Danny’s (thankfully for him) long couch while they talked.

Danny’s wine began to really hit him after it had gotten so dark that Danny had to start a shoddily assembled fire in the hearth, watching the flame grow with a satisfied pride as he knelt on the floor.

“That’s really roaring now, huh?” Danny commented proudly.

“That may be the tallest fire I’ve ever seen in a fireplace,” Sam remarked coolly, a snide flirtation in his tone. “I mean, we should really call someone about getting you an award for that.”

“Ha ha,” Danny deadpanned, looking over his shoulder to throw Sam a sour look.

Instead, he saw Sam had migrated to the uncharted middleground of the couch, pulling the throw blanket that Danny had draped over the edge of the couch around his shoulders as he grinned at Danny. In the firelight, Sam was completely aglow with soft orange light, his eyes and hair taking on an unearthly fiery quality that somehow made him look gentle. Danny felt himself looking a second too long, and then a few seconds too long, and then nearly a minute long as he gawked at Sam and felt his stomach sinking lower and lower. Sam’s smile drifted down into a neutral expression and then a confused one as Danny tried to play off his blatant staring by looking back into the fire, poking it absently as if it needed it.

“What?” Sam asked.

“What?” Danny asked right back.

“You got all weird for a second.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did!” Sam laughed like it was obvious, which it was. “Are you tipsy or something?”

“I guess,” Danny answered weakly, knowing his meek language was even more suspicious than he was already being.

“You’re an odd duck,” Sam chuckled, wrapping the blanket further around his shoulders and nuzzling in. “Your fire isn’t working yet, I’m still chilly.”

“Patience, sheesh,” Danny quipped as he got up and away from the fire, finding the courage to sit back down on the couch, choosing a slightly closer spot than he had before and taking a sip of his wine. “I can feel it, it’s warmer over here now.”

“Mm,” Sam hummed, taking his own drink. “Maybe you’re right.”

When Sam leaned forward to put his jar down on the small table that accompanied the couch, his legs butterflied outwards and his knee dug into Danny’s own, which was spaced wide by his spreading sit. Danny tried not to jerk at the touch, and he struggled to remain still and unfazed when Sam leaned back against the plush cushion and his legs didn’t shift at all, the denim of their jeans now the only thing barely separating them. Danny looked down at the spot where their knees leaned on each other and, stupidly, looked to Sam as if expecting an explanation. Sam said nothing, instead staring blankly at Danny as if nothing had happened. But Danny knew that nothing truly meant nothing to Sam, and he looked away and into the fire to sit in the realization that if he needed a moment to act upon, it was now. He opened his mouth slightly to take in a breath of confidence, hesitating before turning to Sam. However, in typical fashion, Sam was too fast for him.

“Hey,” Sam rasped quietly, moving his knee away from Danny’s and crossing it over the other. He pushed himself up a little higher in his seat. “Um, I kind of wanted to say something.”

“Oh,” Danny blurted in shock, his chest seizing with fear and sending cold trickles through his body. “Me too, actually, but you can, uh, go first.”

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing, I just…” Sam trailed off, rubbing nervously at his chin before looking at Danny, his eyes full of ferocious sincerity. “It’s a stupid question, actually.”

“I’m open to it,” Danny replied honestly.

“Cool, cool.”

Sam paused again and Danny thought he was going to pass out from the anticipation.

“I wanted to ask…why. That sounds too simple, wait,” Sam stammered, squeezing his eyes and wrinkling his brow. “I wanted to ask you why you gave me your hat.”

“My hat,” Danny repeated absentmindedly, hoping the rush of color that he felt in his face wasn’t visible in the firelight. “That’s not a silly question.”

“You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to,” Sam insisted, backing away from his previous surge of confidence. “Like, I’m sure it’s nothing crazy, I was just, you know, there were a lot of people so I was wondering if you had some kind of…method. Or if it was totally random. I don’t care either way, I’m just, you know, curious.”

Sam let out a tiny breath as he ran out of steam and looked at Danny expectantly, the flickering visage of the fire fanning across his curious face and pulsing like a string of lights woven through his hair. Danny truly had no idea how to answer that even though the truth rested at the forefront of his mind.

I picked you because you were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen in my life, Danny answered in his own mind. I’d never even done that before that day. I’m lucky I didn’t fall off my horse the way that I couldn’t tear my eyes from your face. I gave you my hat because I wanted you to come find me and drag me into your life and cup my face in your hands. I wish I hadn’t been so terrified of getting what I wanted in that moment. But I want to stay in your life in any capacity and I want you to know that no matter what we are to each other, I would’ve given you the hat each and every time. Even if I never saw you again, it would’ve been worth it for the single strand of your hair wrapping around my finger for a second or two.

In reality, Danny was silent. He feigned deep thought before he realized that he wasn’t remotely capable of saying what he thought. But he didn’t want to leave Sam hanging for an answer in this frustrating seizure of his mental capability. In a single moment of lucidity, Danny found a way to answer Sam the way he wanted to.

Danny, twisting at the hip, moved forward and caught Sam by the back of his neck before sealing the space between them and kissing him. He felt his brain blink to a blank channel as he felt the pressure of Sam’s soft lips against his own and the weight of Sam’s hair falling over the back of his hand. After what felt like a century of passing time, Sam’s mouth opened against his with a gasp of air and a shaky whimper, pressing against Danny with a rush of grabbing hands and angled jaws. Danny’s brain roared with a rush of blinding serotonin and he nearly laughed with relief as he pawed at Sam’s hip and dove his fingers under Sam’s shirt, his fingers sliding against the soft, sensitive skin of Sam’s slender waist. Sam, falling apart in a shower of whines and sighs, messily shifted his body further onto the couch and eventually onto Danny’s lap, sitting harshly and making Danny let out an involuntary groan. He moved the hand cradling Sam’s cheek down to his hips and dug his fingers in, anchoring Sam against him and causing Sam to let out a delicious whimper.

“Baby,” Sam whispered against Danny’s mouth, unable to tear away. Danny sighed in response, pulling Sam closer by the hip. He relaxed into the warmth of Sam’s arms encircling his neck and propped his head up against them to angle perfectly against Sam’s mouth. Danny was pretty convinced he never wanted to come up for air, but eventually his reflexes made him jerk his head back ever so slightly so he could breathe in a deep rush of cool night air, his mouth slick with spit. Sam’s eyes were round and starry, his pupils nearly overtaking the warm brown of his irises as he stared breathlessly down at Danny, the both of them panting in silence as they marveled at the other.

“Hi,” Danny whispered, his voice dry and gravelly and unmistakably shy.

“Hi,” Sam answered brightly, wiggling slightly under Danny’s touch. “So, what is it you wanted to say?”

“That was-that was basically what I was going to say,” Danny said between little gasps, swallowing and staring unabashedly at Sam’s glossy and flushed lips. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah,” Sam relinquished, pressing kisses to the high planes of Danny’s cheekbones and traveling down to his cheeks. “Knew you were a dirty liar.”

“Sue me,” Danny chuckled weakly. “Sorry for-”

“Don’t sweat it,” Sam interjected. “I knew you’d figure it out.”

“Aw, so sweet to me,” Danny murmured, leaning in to chase another kiss. Sam met him and dragged his fingers through Danny’s curls as he held Danny close to him, smiling against his lips when his fingers caught a little knot and Danny let out a muffled whine of pain. Danny reached up and slowly pushed the blanket off of Sam’s slim shoulders, hearing it drop to the floor as he smoothed a large palm up Sam’s chest, his fingers brushing over the patch of skin exposed at his throat and making him shiver.

Danny figured that Sam would be the one to walk the line of ferality, but as the minutes passed and their button downs slowly migrated to the floor, he found himself being worked into a frenzy like he’d never experienced before. Every miniscule buck of Sam’s hips and the scent of his heady, wine sweet breath was enough to make Danny’s blood pound in his ears and knock the breath out of him. He had a pretty good idea of where this was headed, and he was suddenly very nervous when he realized that when they got there, he’d have absolutely no idea what to do.

Eventually, Danny pulled away and took a moment to admire Sam again. His slender, sweaty chest was heaving and he reached up to pat his hat further down onto his hair, which swayed as he tilted his head to try and evaluate Danny’s expression.

“You look like a regular cowboy,” Danny complimented and Sam laughed, shooting him a wink and holding the brim of his hat as he started to rock back and forth on Danny’s lap. The friction was enough to make Danny grunt and grasp Sam’s hips again, trying to hold him in place and failing miserably. Sam leaned forward towards Danny, propping himself on the back of the couch as he kissed up Danny’s throat.

“Do you remember when we first met and you asked me a question?” Sam asked breathily in Danny’s ear, slowing his faux cowboy trot on Danny’s lap but not fully stopping.

“I can’t think of much of anything with you looking like that,” Danny replied honestly and Sam chuckled in his ear, the vibration sending another delicious jolt down Danny’s already painfully sensitive neck.

“Well, you did,” Sam continued. “And I lied to you. Just wanted to apologize for that.”

“What did I ask you..?”

Sam sat upright again, holding Danny by the jaw and giving him another kiss before murmuring his answer against his lips.

“You asked me if I ride. I said I don’t, but that whole time I was thinking that for you, I’d love nothing more than to show you just how well I can ride.”

Danny gawked at him for a moment, Sam drinking in his shocked silence with a smug grin as he brushed Danny’s hair back sweetly and softly bit his bottom lip.

“I don’t…” Danny trailed off, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Sam whispered. “But if you do, I’ll show you.”

“I do,” Danny blurted immediately. “I do, yes, I just, you know, be patient with me.”

“Of course,” Sam said gently. “Can you just promise me one thing?”

“Anything.”

“Can we still be friends after this? Turns out I actually really like having a friend, especially if it’s you.”

“Of course we can still be friends,” Danny answered, cupping Sam’s cheek and smoothing his thumb soothingly over his soft skin. “As long as you don’t mind me being very fond of you along with it.”

“I expect it, actually,” Sam smiled. “Now, will you take me to bed?”

“What’s the magic word?” Danny grinned, nuzzling his nose against Sam’s as Sam rolled his eyes and locked his arms around Danny’s neck once more.

“Please,” Sam replied faux begrudgingly. “Please take me to bed.”

“Very good,” Danny hummed, wrapping his arms around Sam’s waist and hoisting him up around his hips before standing up like he weighed nothing at all. “That’s my boy.”

“Oh, I’m yours now?” Sam teased, locking his legs around Danny’s lower back as Danny slowly made his way down the hall towards his bedroom.

“If you’d like to be, sure,” Danny said warmly. Sam paused for a moment, a small giddiness starting to buzz in his face.

“If I was, you wouldn’t hide me away?” Sam asked quietly, his voice catching slightly but playing it off by clearing his throat. “You’d tell people I was yours?”

“I’ll scream it from the rooftops if you want me to,” Danny replied, setting Sam down on the quilt atop his four poster bed. His heart sank as he thought of the times when Sam hadn’t had someone as proud to have him, which seemed like a pretty ridiculous concept to Danny. Now that he knew he had him, it was going to take a lot of restraint not to announce it to every person he passed on the street. Sam smiled shyly up at him, almost grateful.

“I’ll be yours, then,” Sam purred, leaning back on his elbows. “But you’re going to have to come and get me first.”

Danny grinned down at him, closing the door behind him before descending passionately on Sam and causing him to erupt in a burst of giggles that morphed into a stream of sighs and gentle moans that carried on long into a blue morning. Danny had spent so much of his life chasing after things that ran from him, even after he’d caught them and tied them down. Now here was something that had run after him, and as the time passed in Sam’s orbit and he felt the sensation of being tied down himself, he realized that this might’ve been what he really wanted all along.

Taglist: @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @s0livagant @holdingup-fallingsky @t00turnttrauma @the-starcatcher @streamsofstardust @spark-my-nature @joshkiszkashusband @meetingthestoryteller

#ngl i had so so so much fun with this #i listened to so much orville peck while writing it lol #also everybody go listen to cowboys are frequently secretly fond of each other i adore it #let me know what you think please!!!#gvf #greta van fleet #danny wagner #sam kiszka #sanny gvf #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van art #cowboy sanny #karoufiction

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