forum place i belong // oxo // closed

Started June 13, 2023 by @larcenistarsonist group

tune

Kit made sure the hen was tucked under his arm nice and safe so she wouldn't cause any more issues around the coop. He knew that now that she had launched and attempted her feeble attack on the man that had been shit scared of her, she was fine, but for the sake of Dane's sanity, he kept her tucked under his arm. Even more so of a good idea when she glared at the other man as she was poked. Best not to poke the bear. The hen might have been small but she certainly had the fury of one of those big creatures. Kit had been on the receiving end of it enough times to know what to do and how to handle her, but considering Dane was the one picking the eggs that morning, he was going to make sure she stayed as far away from him as possible to avoid another encounter.

"Take 'em all." Kit said, and he gave Dane the nod to go ahead and begin picking out the eggs in the coop, "None of the others will hurt ya, promise. This one is the only crazy go in the batch." And the farm boy needed as many eggs as possible to take to market. They were always the best sellers. Everyone needed more eggs and they couldn't seem to get enough of the ones that Kit sold. Maybe it was because the ones he took were always the fattest, juiciest eggs out of all the stalls there, and that was a good thing. Half the time his other goods didn't sell as well and so they had an influx of product. But with the eggs? There could never have been too many. Someone was always disappointed when he sold out and he always promised to bring more next time to avoid those kinds of issues. At least it was nice to be wanted in some way.

The farm boy gently petted the hen in his arms with his free hand, rocking her back and forth to keep her calm and from launching out of his arms to get back at the new man in her territory. All the other chickens were fine. They stood around, plucking their feathers and shedding everywhere, rolling in the small water bath on the far end of the space to cool off from the hot sun. Life would be far easier if he was a chicken, Kit decided, as he watched them roam.

(whaaaaa we've hit 100 posts already!!!!)

Dane shrugs, carefully reaching into the coops to scoop up all of the eggs. One was really warm and it was kind of weird, but Dane knows the more he thinks about it the weirder it'll be, so he quickly shuts down all thoughts in his brain and fills it with two simple things: eggs and angel. He fills the basket quietly, content to just simply move the eggs from one place to another. He gets into a repetitive system, somewhat relaxing if he does say so himself. In no time at all, all of the eggs have been harvested and moved to the basket. He holds it up with a smile. "What do I do with em now, angel?" He knows that Kit's family sells them at the market, but it's getting late in the morning. Maybe it's just an afternoon farmer's market instead of just an ordinary mornin' one?

Growing up, Dane's family never really had eggs. It was mostly oats and bran and simple things that never took long for his mother to make. It was also a lot of food taken from the saloon across the street. Dane's mother would hand him a few coins and tell him her order. She'd go change out of her nurse uniform and try not to wake her husband while Dane would get the two of them lots of tater tots and shoestring fries. Sometimes the barkeeper would be especially nice and throw in a few little tins of sauces for free. Those were always the best nights–sitting across from his mother at their rickety dinner table, trading fried pieces of potatoes and complimenting all of the sauces. Then they'd go to bed and Dane's mom would kiss his forehead goodnight and then Dane would go to sleep and hope he wouldn't wake up to yelling in the morning.

Shaking himself from the sweet memories, Dane hands Kit the basket and hopes his smile doesn't look too strained. He'll have to look at his mama's picture when he gets a minute of alone time. Hopefully he won't wrinkle the newspaper clipping with any more tears. "So now we got eggs and we've let the animals out–" Dane recounts quietly. "What do we do now?"

(Weee!!!! we're slayin)

Kit placed the chicken down when Dane walked his way and gladly accepted the basket of eggs from the man. The chicken stayed around their feet for a little while longer, eyeing up the strange man that she had attacked earlier before after a few moments, she finally walked away. Kit very nearly breathed a sigh of relief when she did, because for a hot second, he thought that she might attack again considering it had been Dane to collect the eggs and not him. But, at least he didn't have to worry about it anymore. That job was over and he could be more focused on Dane. On the rest of the day, on the other chores that would need doing.

"Gotta take 'em over to the produce barn." He said, wiping his hands on his pants from the dust and the dirt that had been on the chicken's feathers and then landed on his hands, "We should probably collect some fruit and such while we out that way too." Because the orchards, however small, produced succulent, juicy fruits that Kit was always devouring. There was also the matter of the vegetables, too. He had checked on them the other day but a few of the plants, like the potatoes and the carrots, hadn't quite been ready for picking. He prayed they were today, because that meant he could take them to the market in a day or so and sell them, too, and not just have to rely on the eggs and meats. It was always a good training and selling day when there were fresh fruits and vegetables to add to the mix. And Kit always threw a couple of deals in there for the lucky people who might spend a bit more, which was what he really needed.

Kit beckoned Dane out of the coop, basket in hand, as he led them away from the main portion of the farm. Further out the animals couldn't reach due to the fence lines, and that meant they wouldn't be able to chew and trample on any of his much-needed stock. The sun was steady in the sky by now, and Kit was more than happy that he had brought his hat with him because damn did he need that thing. He was sure to burn at this rate, but then again, he did most days. There was a reason his skin was honey-tanned with tinges of red everywhere. The life of a farmer.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dane watches as the vile hen walks back to her hiding place, thankfully not labelling Dane as a threat any longer. He ducks his head as he exits the coop, the short doorframe catching his hat and almost knocking it off his red hair. Dane smiles, quickly falling into place at Kit's side. He swings his arms absently at his sides, thankful for the broad hat to keep the early noon heat off his delicate skin. He squints and takes another long look around the farmland, wondering what kind of various chores Kit has to do day in and day out. Dane wonders if it ever gets boring, or if the routine is comfortable. Dane doesn't have any sort of routine to base that inquiry off of. He's only known change and haste and constant travel. What would it possibly be like to never leave this comfortable little farm?

"Mmm, fruit," Dane mumbles. He loves a good fresh apple. He doesn't quite care for strawberries or tomatoes. Those are too juicy, too sweet. The apples are just right. Crisp, a little tangy, sometimes pretty sour, and they always taste good with just a little bit of peanut butter. He once met a guy who liked to put salt on his granny smiths. Dane never quite understood that, but the man had a pretty smile and Dane didn't care for much more than that. "What kind do ya' grow over here?" He uses his hand to shield his eyes from the sun that evades the brim of his hat and looks around. There are a few trees, a couple bushes, the orchard nicely partitioned away from the animals who could potentially want a snack.

Dane also can't help but wonder what the market could be like. He's never been in one with peaceful intentions–well, sometimes he goes to them with peaceful intentions, and then the sheriff and his goons always show up and ruin everything. Hopefully he'll be able to spend the one with Kit without any sort of gunfire or running. Of course, that all pends on if his paper face is stapled to every board on the saloon or not.

Kit led them over the fields and took in the surrounding expanse of his farm. The grass was brown in most parts but soft and green in others where he had remembered to water consistently throughout the summer. It didn't help there was a water shortage and he was trying not to consume half the town's supply to keep the farm running. A lot of the place was like that for the time being, trying not to use all the water that they had in order to survive. At least it was a shared goal. Hopefully, by the time the wet season came around soon, they wouldn't have to worry. And the sun wouldn't be so damned hot all the time. There would be at least a little relief from the blazing heat and scorching rays that beat down on them day in and day out for half the year. They needed the break, at least Kit did. And they needed more water. They always did.

The cows, sheep and horses were roaming the large paddock and milling on the hay and whatever bits of grass they could find that seemed delicious enough to eat, drinking from the troughs and lazily going about their day without a care in the world. Kit wished that he would have that life. It would be far easier to be a cow or a horse than a human. He wouldn't have to worry about any of the shit that he did, wouldn't have to be running around all the damn time and feeling like crap when he didn't get his jobs done. It would be a far easier life than the one he currently lived.

The orchard came into view, with rows of apple trees lining the far side of the farm and marking the edge of their land. Green, red, they were all there. Underneath were lines of strawberry bushes, and there were a few smaller lemon trees, as well as limes and mandarins and a of couple grape vines. Off to one side next to it was another old, worn-down barn that needed some maintenance, and that was there they kept all the fresh produce, "Oh ya know, the usual stuff. Apples and such."

"I do like me some apples," Dane says with a smile, reaching up to pluck a Granny Smith straight from the branch. He spins it around in his hand to ensure that there are no wormholes or aphids on the leaf before taking a large bite right out of its bright green skin. It juices down his cheeks, slightly uncomfortable, and stings a little at his sensitive front teeth, but the taste is unlike any apple he's had before. He swallows his bite. "Angel, have you had these apples?" He asks, unthinkingly handing Kit his already bitten apple. "Best damn apple I've ever had–" And that's probably the truth. After all, he can't quite think of any apple that's had enough significance as this one. Not ones snatched from a racing steed. Not salted ones taken from a feeding hand.

Dane falls into stride beside Kit, looking wide-eyed around at all of the trees, their canopy at least providing some solace from the beating sun. The barn up ahead looks both torn down and perfectly fine–a real fixer-upper, but one that would only be properly fixed with the right amount of love. Inside are crates and crates of produce stacked neatly beside each other. Each fruit or vegetable is like a gem in its own, the bright color contrasting pleasantly from the natural dust of the floor. To hell with all the diamonds and goals in all them mines, this is the riches Dane wants. He wants… he wants to be able to sow the seeds and reap the profits. To be able to stick around long enough to watch them grow into something worth the prettiest penny at the market. His eyes shift to Kit, wondering absently if he's ever taken such a precious process for granted.

"An' you said you take em out to town tomorrow?" He momentarily removes his hat to brush the sticky hair from his forehead. "Maybe after we sell all these at the market we can go out for them taters." His smile only grows as he nudges Kit's side with his own. It's awfully quiet out there, perhaps the furthest distance from the house out of any part of the farm. Dane's eyes involuntarily roam up and down Kit's form, wondering if they could get some alone time all the way out here. He tears his gaze away to the hayloft, only to wonder if that could hold two wrestlin bodies without giving way. God. God Dane hopes that there's still enough sun out to blame the reddening of his face on.

The outer barn was a place that Kit loved. It was secluded, quiet, and in his mind, it was the perfect spot for thinking. Away from the rest of the farm, away from the animals, the chores and the work, he could be at peace from it all, if only for an hour or two, not even that, on the days he was extremely busy. The lines of trees provided shade from the blazing summer sun, and on those days where he needed to just get away, they were the perfect spot to do so. He could sit under the shade of the bright green, listen to the distant bird song, the sound of the animals in the next paddock over, and feel that for at least five minutes, his busy mind was at peace. This was his space, his happy space, and now he was sharing it with Dane. He didn't know if the cowboy would be staying long enough for them to come back, but God did he hope so. He wanted to show him all his favourite spots, where he sat, the hammock he had strung up on the other side of the barn where the sun filtered through the green and cast him in gold for an afternoon.

Kit always imagined bringing someone here. A girl, a boy, it didn't matter. The space was special to him, amongst the rows of crates and barrels of fruit and vegetables he would sell in the coming days, and a special place should be shared with a special person. Even though he and Dane had just met, he couldn't help the feeling of wanting to share the space with him. Maybe it was because Kit was aware they were on a limited time frame. Dane would leave soon, he knew it, that when they were finished in town, when he was good to ride again he would up and leave at the first chance he got. The man gave that impression, and Kit couldn't stop the sinking feeling in his chest at the thought of him going so soon. Yeah, it was definitely the reason he was okay with bringing him here so soon.

The farmboy couldn't help the soft giggle as he was handed the apple, and took a bite on the other side before chucking it back to the other man, "Why thank you kindly, sir," He gave Dane a tip of his hat in thanks a moment later, "I work damn hard on these apples." Too hard, all things considered.

Kit placed the basket of eggs in one corner before he moved to grab an empty carton to place them in, "Yeah, we'll take some of the stuff tomorrow morn', eggs, few crates of apples and carrots and the like. We can go for them wedges after." He looked over his shoulder to Dane and shot him a wink once more before he turned back to the task at hand, gently placing each egg in its own little compartment in the carton.

(it's just kind of hitting me that i have no idea what year this takes place so i guess maybe uhh pre-wwi??? like 1910s ish if that's alright with you alskjdf)

Dane catches the apple thrown back at him with one smooth motion, taking a bite right out of the apple Kit had chewn off. (He hadn't really intended to do that, but the opportunity was there and he couldn't quite resist, could he?) "Well, I'm mighty thankful that you work so hard. Someone has to put in all the elbow grease for all these fine crops." He finishes the rest of the apple, finding a nice compost bin to toss the core into. He whistles long and low as he takes a short spin to look around the rustic barn. "This is all pretty nice," he compliments quietly. "Do you come out here a lot?" It's quiet. It's a perfect escape for anyone wanting time far away from the usual bustle of the farm.

He kicks the toe of his boot, catching on a small rock and sending it to the other side of the barn. Dane turns back around absently, wondering how the angel possibly manages to transport so many goods to the town over. Not even Kit's town. The one next to that. How long would the journey be? It can't really be more than a couple hours, right? Does he take a horse, a wagon, maybe one of them new automobiles that the rich have been buyin' up? Well, Dane hasn't seen any garage for any automobile. He also doubts that Kit would spend any penny towards something as frivolous as an automobile. Not when there's a whole farm. Not when he clearly has other expenses he'd spend all that pocket change on.

The light filters through the shifty slats of the old barn ceiling, bathing the angel in some gorgeous light that Dane's blundering mind can only describe as god-given. Dane's breath stutters. He isn't sure if he'll be able to keep his promise. His stupid, blabbering mouth might as well expose his secret right here and now.

(lmao sounds good to me)

Clara had spoken to her son about investing in an automobile. The town was small but not small enough that they didn't get word of the recent inventions and ideas that were popping up all over the country. There had been a few salesmen come through the place advertising the wonderous new inventions, how they would help with the farmlands for transporting crops, cattle and the like and it had sounded like a good idea to her. And quite frankly, it had sounded like a good idea to Kit, too, but they couldn't afford it. Clara had tried to argue that they did, that they had some savings they could use in order to invest in one, and it would have helped the farm and Kit immensely, but Kit had refused. The money needed to go towards his father's medication. It needed to go towards food, for utilities, for taking care of the farm. They couldn't afford to spend that money on something that might break within a month of buying it. They just couldn't.

Instead, Kit was fine with his horse and cart. The wagon was sturdy, had served him well, served his father well, and that was the main thing. Why replace something that wasn't broken and was reliable? It didn't make any sense. And he was perfectly fine with the old thing. He could use it, he could navigate with it fine, there was nothing wrong with that. Call him old fashioned, Kit was more than happy with the thing compared to a fancy pants automobile. Even if it did mean it took longer to get to the markets than it would with an electric vehicle.

Kit finished off the eggs, staking the cartons on top of each other in an empty crate before he moved it to one side ready to be placed in the wagon tomorrow morning. The wagon itself was round the back of the barn and only needed to be pulled forward in order to pack it, so it wouldn't take long. He dusted his hands off on his pants as he looked back to his companion, "Yes Sir," He replied with a soft sigh, "It's ma favourite place. Wouldn't wanna be anywhere else. Jus' wish I could stay out 'ere all the time with someone…"

Dane raises an eyebrow playfully. "Well angel, I'm that someone and I am right here–" He checks his shoulder gently against Kit's, noting with a small thrill how solid the muscle beneath the shirt is. His heart thunders ever so slightly at the thought of spending a little more alone time in here with the angel–far enough away from the house that none of Kit's parents would have to hear them. He doubts the animals would mind that much, right? They probably don't know about certain human activities–Goddamnit, Dane needs to get his head in a confession booth as soon as possible. God. This farmboy is certainly doing something to him and Dane might explode.

"Have you been on this farm all yer life?" Dane asks, changing the topic with a clearing of his throat. He needs to get his mind out of the gutter immediately. He at least has some dignity and if he wants to preserve any of it, he needs to get his mind off of the farmboy's strong body. (That's quickly proving to be much more difficult than Dane was expecting.) "The only place I've stayed longer than a few months in was my hometown. It should be across some territory lines or something." It's been too long for Dane to really remember exactly where it is. He doesn't know how to go back, which should be a much scarier thought than it is. Then again, why would he ever want to go back? All that'll wait for him would be a drunken father (if his liver hasn't given out by now) and a town that hates his name. There'll be two graves that Dane has only visited once. There'll be a saloon with potato fries and sauce. There'll be a few buildings, still haunted by the ghost of Dane's memories.

Dane shrugs. "It's been… It's been about seven years since I've been back home, but somethin' tells me I won't really be allowed back." His smile may be playful, but his words only hold the truth. Honestly, if Kit asks enough questions right now, he'll be spillin' his whole life secret. To hell with waiting for town. The moment is right now and Dane at least promised himself he'd wait until his secret's free before allowing himself to kiss the farmboy.

Kit couldn't stop the way his face lit up as red as the tomatoes that he grew at Dane's statement. Or the way his heart thundered faster than a stamped of horses across the plains that bordered his little farm. How a man was able to come in and completely turn his brain into mush within less than a day of meeting him, the farmboy didn't know. That was beyond his cognitive capabilities. He didn't possess the skill in order to recode his own feelings. The only feelings he was good at decoding were that of the animals that he tended to. Sheep and pigs and chickens, especially, were easy to understand. They acted a certain way, made certain sounds when they wanted certain things and it was clear as day. Nothing was as easy as understanding what an animal wanted when you had been raised around them your whole life.

But people? People were an entirely different story. They said things they didn't mean, acted differently in order to gain attention from someone and didn't care if they hurt others in the process. People only cared about themselves and how to use others to get ahead in life. People lie and cheat and never expressed exactly what they wanted and needed and it left people him Kit, who wasn't good with that shit, more confused than anything else. He didn't know what to do about it. He just hoped that Dane would be honest with him. That was all he wanted, honesty and truth and as long as he got that then they wouldn't have any issues.

"Born and raised on this farm," Kit said and he continued further into the barn to a ladder that led to the hayloft above the main section of the place. Before climbing he rolled the sleeves of his flannel out the way, the fabric tight against his muscles, before he began to climb. He got halfway before he looked down at Dane and tilted his head to the side, "And why's that?" He asked. Why wouldn't he be allowed to go back to the place he was born? unless he had done something horrible and in that case… Kit didn't know how to feel, mainly because he didn't know what it was that the other had done, "Sounds like you've got sum confessin' to do," He motioned to the ladder, indicating that he wanted Dane to follow him.

Dane whistles quietly, trying not to look directly at the ass above him, climbing up and up that big ladder to the hayloft. Well, Dane probably doesn't even have to mention what Kit's strong muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt do do him. This man is going to be the absolute death of him, and well, Dane hardly minds the thought of that. Though Dane only knows Kit to be kind and gentle, he has no clue how he'd possibly react to the information about Dane's past–about how many lives he's taken and how much property he's stolen. It's not a pretty number. Higher than most would think and much higher than Dane would ever like to admit, but… Dane's gotten this far. He's far too deep to go back. The only way out is to run and pray that one day he'll never be found again. There's no chance of a trial, not when Dane already knows he's guilty and deserves to be sentenced to the gallows.

He blinks when he's so kindly invited to follow Kit up the ladder and into the hayloft. He smiles, a close lipped thing, and waits for Kit to get a little higher before beginning the climb himself. It's not… hard, it's just, Dane's going at a much slower pace granted he has stitches in his sides and a distracted mind. He's looking right up at Kit's ass and thinking terrible, terrible things. He's going to have to whack himself over the head with a club if he keeps going on like this. Sure Kit might've seemed interested earlier, when they were all cuddled together on the mattress in his room, but Dane could easily be reading far too much into Kit's hospitality. He could be friendly. He could be naturally touchy feely. But he's also into men, a delightful secret that Dane loves to harbor in the back of his mind.

When he finally arrives to the top, Dane lets out a sigh of relief and sets his hat down to his side, fiddling with his fingers in his lap. "Well, you see angel, I do have my fair share of confessin' to do, but ya' gotta promise me that you won't go blabbing my secrets to everyone the second I tell ya', alright?" He levels Kit with as serious of a glare as he can manage. He's about to hang the balance of their relationship with a few secrets. He could kill them before they even begin to form something. "Angel, I'm–" He cuts himself off with a sigh. "Angel, I'm not a good man." Is all he offers before looking over to him. "Angel, I've killed twenty-four men and stolen over thirty-thousand dollars from counties across the west." The words sting like acid as Dane speaks them. He hates how they fall of his tongue and into the air.

The hayloft was another part of his old, run-down barn at the back of the farm that was one of Kit's more private, personal places. It was far, far away from anything else on the farm, from his parents, from responsibility, and physically off the ground making it seem like it was further away than it was. Realistically, he knew that it wasn't that far, and the fact that it wasn't on ground level wasn't exactly meaning it was as if he were in the heavens and way beyond reach of reality, but in his mind, he could believe that it was. Kit could pretend that, while he was up there and away from the floor, he was somewhere else entirely. It had been his favourite place as a child. One where he had visited with his father when he had still been able, where after hours or tending to the fields and the animals they had come to rest together in that old hammock or up in the piles of hay. His mother had had to come yelling for them more times than he could count in order to fetch her eldest and her husband. For a while, it had been the most magical of places. Now it was only an escape, a place that he visited when he needed to get away, when he had just five minutes of free time.

It was barely anything considering he was the only person on the farm doing all the hard work. With his father bedridden and ill there wasn't much he could do. They had no money to spare for another farm hand and so it was all down to him. The eldest. The one destined to take over the farm while his siblings went on to achieve bigger and better things in life. Envy was the only word he could use to describe how he felt when he thought of his siblings and the opportunities they had that he didn't, but at the same time, they deserved it. They deserved better. And he was glad they were reaching higher than the stars and Kit was happy to watch them soar. But right then and there he was once more sharing this space with Dane as he settled into the piles of straw, lounging on a particularly large pile with his hands over his chest, "I ain't gonna tell a soul."

He wouldn't. Maybe Mols and Dandy, but they couldn't exactly go blabbing to the neighbours. When Dane spoke, each word had his heart thundering faster and faster. Dane had.. had killed people. Dead at his hands. Stolen. Would he do that to him? Point his gun, steal what little money his family had and run even after Kit had helped him? The farmboy lets the silence sit over the two of them before he speaks once again, "Why?" He asks softly, though no more than that.

The man–the criminal–takes a long breath, looking straight at his boots hanging over the edge of the hayloft instead of daring to meet Kit's disappointed eyes. "Most were in self defense," Dane answers quietly. "Or in duels…. Seven were won duels that I should've never been charged for. Twelve of them were sheriffs or men in way over their heads. They wanted my neck in the noose and I–I couldn't just let them nab me. Not when I haven't really had a chance to live yet." Dane's voice is quiet, frighteningly steady as he tries not to let it shake. "The first one was an accident. I didn't mean to but he was mean and he was grabbin' my arm so I just grabbed his pistol and shot 'im once through the heart–" His breaths come quick and short before he stops himself, shutting his eyes tight and hoping he can compose himself. "It was an accident. It was an accident but nobody else seemed to think so." His hands go up to wipe at his eyes. "I was sixteen and without a home and my mom and sister were dead and my father didn't care enough about anything but his whiskey. I had to run. And I kept running. And I kept shootin'–" And that's when his voice finally cracks. He killed nineteen on purpose. The death that started it all had been an accident. The last four are ones Dane doesn't wanna think about. They hurt his heart the most.

"I never took much from anybody. Not anybody who was suffering–" Dane pushes on to explain. "It was mostly them fat cats and mayors and sheriffs–I took what I wanted and gave it away in the next town over… I never… I never kept much." Only books, but even sometimes he would have to use them for kindling. Sometimes he would take a handful of coin to use in the next settlement.

Mortified, Dane buries his head in his hands. He wouldn't be mad if Kit pushed him right off the hayloft. Hell, if he were in the farmboy's shoes, he woulda done the same. "Shoulda let me die when you had the chance, angel," Dane all but whispers, praying his delicate voice doesn't break again. "Woulda been a lot better for all of us."

Kit listened as Dane talked about his past, the reason for the people that he killed, and who he stole from. The farmboy chewed on his lower lip, taking in the information as he was given it and mulling it over as he tried to form a reply at the end of it all. From what he knew of the man before him, the man who had appeared on his land and practically fallen off a horse that was now, clearly, not his own, covered in blood, a killer had not been high on the list of adjectives he would have used to describe him. Dane was a flatterer. Kind, gentle, used humour to deflect his more serious thoughts and Kit could tell all that from just a few hours with the man. What he was being told, how he had killed and stolen, did not fit with the picture. Yet at the same time, everyone had done bad things. His father had certainly done awful things, he knew that much. Did he really have room to judge? And Dane had only been sixteen. Young, hadn't even experienced the world before he had taken the life of someone else.

Someone so young should not have had to experience death at that age. Dane had even said that his mother and sister had died before then. Kit's heart only sunk further into his chest as he thought it over more, about how horrible the situation was, about how all of it was. Was that why Dane didn't want to stay long? Was he worried that the law was going to catch up with him and he would be arrested for his crimes? That could be the only explanation for why he wanted to dash off so quickly. But Kit had never seen his face in town before on any of the wanted posters, not in the next town over or his own. Maybe… no, it was a foolish thought. He couldn't ask him to stay here, with him… no, he couldn't. The thought was enticing and he wanted so badly to say it but for now all he could do was push it away.

Instead, the farmboy scooted forward from his pile of hay until he was seated next to Dane, legs hanging off the edge of the hayloft, "I'm glad that I didn't let you die," He said quietly, "And… and I'm sorry, for all that you've gone through. It's not fair that you have to bear all of that."

(asdlkfja sorry this took so long! i have been dealing with a ton this past week–)

Dane laughs, a humorless, broken sound that escapes him. "Angel, you aren't gonna be so proud of lettin' me live when everythin' catches up to me. As soon as word hits this little town that I'm here, they'll be at yer doorstep with torches and nooses and breakin' down yer porch lookin' for me." He presses the palms of his hands into his eyes, hoping that the pressure will at least alleviate the growing sting. "They all want me dead. I just–" He should just give up. Make it easier on everyone. He should hold his hands out and accept his fate but… but he just can't. Not yet at least. "I just wish I had time to actually live before they all wanted me dead."

But when has the universe ever been too kind to Dane. He was a murderer at sixteen, a boy with a seemingly bright future ahead of him after so much tragedy. He was supposed to move on with his head held high. His old preacher said that maybe one day he'd be one of 'em bankers or even a surgeon. He had so much potential. So much potential that was ruined with a gunshot. It wasn't like it was his fault either. He was walking home after forcing himself to attend some town hearing. He had wanted to know what was going to happen with the brand new railroad going in. After the meeting, he was walking home and a man he didn't know snagged his arm. He said a few disturbing things, his breath reeking of alcohol, and Dane had panicked. He hadn't meant to kill. It was hard to explain himself as the man dropped dead and Dane was holding the murder weapon.

He stole a horse and ran. He ran like the coward he is. "The first one was an accident," Dane murmurs, his voice tight. He can't bare to look up and meet Kit's beautiful eyes. "The first one was an accident. The rest were on purpose, angel." He lifts his head, staring at the cracked wood of the barn wall. "I've killed nineteen people on purpose." It wasn't like he had a choice. (You always have a choice, part of him growls. You coulda let them shoot you. You coulda let them arrest you.)

(no rush bestie! i've had a busy weekend anyways lol)

Kit wanted to ask what the story was behind at least the first shooting, but Dane seemed distressed enough just thinking about it that he didn't want to make things worse. That wasn't what he was looking to do, no. He wanted the other to feel safe with him, like he could rest for just a day, even more so now that he had learned somewhat of his past. Dane deserved that much, at least one proper night, in a proper bed, with a hot meal for dinner with as much food as the man could stomach before he would have to go running off to the next town to run away from his demons.

But they hadn't found him. They hadn't found him yet, the people that were looking for him. Kit knew for a fact that his face wasn't plastered up around his little town or the next one over because he would have recognised Dane from the posters. The farmboy liked to think that his memory was good enough to remember a fact like that. It also happened that he was only mildly paranoid and was worried that one of the men on those wanted posters would show up at his doorstep for some reason or another - force their way in looking for food and booze and a night's rest before disappearing with one of his beloved horses. But that hadn't happened yet, and Dane certainly wasn't one of the men that he had seen on those fluttering old pieces of paper nailed to the wooden posts. He wanted to believe, wanted to say to the other man, that he didn't have anything to worry about, that the chances of him getting caught were slim. Even more so considering he had ended up on the farm that everyone in his town avoided like the plague. There was no way they would come looking for him here, no one would even bat an eye in his direction. Yet he knew that Dane would just laugh him off, so was there even a point in trying?

Slowly, Kit moved, giving time for Dane to bat his hands away of he so wished or scramble away and tell him to piss off. The farm boy with one hand grabbed one of Dane's, slipping them together loosely with enough room for the other to pull away, and the other, with his thumb and forefinger, took Dane's chin and turned his head towards him. Green eyes didn't waver, and if anything they shone with determination and stubbornness, "Stay here, with me, for a few days. Give yourself a chance to recover and… and maybe live a little… just until life catches up with you."

His legs dangle over the edge of the hayloft, Dane absently wondering how much the fall would hurt if he tipped off balance. It's not high enough to kill him, but it would at least break a bone or two. Dane's no stranger to pain. Hell, the stitches curving along his ribs are aching with every breath, but Dane knows the difference between pain that's constructive and pain that's destructive. The wound in his side is at least meaningful. Don't get shot, it orders with every breath. If he were to fall onto the dusty floor, it would just remind him that he's going to be dead meat eventually. Dane presses that thought from his mind. He won't be able to run on a broken leg. He won't be able to shoot with his eyes clouded in pain.

Dane stares at their hands, baffled that Kit would even allow his skin to press against the palm of a killer. Dane's mind begs him to pull away, but he's always been a weak man. Before he can even control himself, Dane's withholding heavy sobs. The hand not curled against Kit's goes to his face–pulling at his skin and hair, pressing into the hollows of his eyes. "Why do you even bother–" he chokes. He can't even look at the angel. His goodness might just kill him. "You're doing this wrong, Kit. I shouldn't be here, I don't deserve your kindness, I don't–" His voice cuts with a crack. Kit's moving his chin. Dane's forced to stare right into his pretty green eyes. "Angel, I should leave–"

Wait until life catches up to him– Dane can't do that. God, if he lets life catch up to him, he'll be dead. He'll be dead and this beautiful farm will be burned and Kit and his lovely mother will suffer all because they harbored a cruel criminal like him. "I can't stay here. I can't do that to you, angel." His cheeks are wet from tears, eyes red around his blue irises. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you. To your farm, your home, your mama–" He chokes on his breath. "I've already overstayed my welcome." And he has. What had Dane ever been thinking? In all of his days, he's never been so selfish. He's stolen and cheated and lied and swindled–but none of it has felt nearly as dirty as this moment feels. Kit feels.. he feels safe. But he can't be safe enough to guard Dane from his own actions. The past will catch up to him eventually, and he refuses to let Kit be caught in the middle of it all.

"I don't even understand why you want me to stay–" His chest shudders with the confession. "I'm–I'm a liar, thief, a killer. You should be pushin' me away, not–not–" Dane squeezes their hands. "Not pullin' me closer."

As much as it had been a shock for Kit to hear that Dane had killed people, so many at that, there were people out there who had done far worse. There were men in his own town then he knew that had killed more, there were men that travelled through the land that had done worse and had far more blood on their hands than the man sitting next to him. The difference between them and Dane, however, was the fact that they didn't care. They didn't care if they killed, who they killed. They didn't care if they stole from the poor for their own gain as long as it benefited them. But the man sitting next to him had clear remorse over the lives that he had taken. God, he was distraught over it. Dane was sobbing and no man that didn't have a heart would cry over the lives they had taken.

"You've done bad things, I ain't gonna sugar coat that," The young man continued, but he was moving moments later until both of his hands were resting on Dane's cheeks. His thumbs, calloused from the hard work that he did on the farm, dirty even from that mornings work, began to wipe away the salty tears that were falling down the cowboys cheeks, "But you clearly 'ave a 'eart on ya, otherwise you wouldn't be cryin', you wouldn't be upset over what ya've done. Don't that show you're not all bad? Please, just stay for a 'lil while longer. For me, Dane, I wanna hear your story."

And there wasn't a hint of a lie in his voice. His green eyes were soft, almost desperate, for Dane to stay there with him. He was the first man that he had met for such a long time that hadn't tried to hurt him in some way. That had seen him differently than just the son of an awful man. Dane might have done some horrible things, but so had his father, so had many, but Kit knew that there was more to people than simply someone's past. And Dane was an example of someone who had gone through horrible things because of his past, and if he wanted to change then maybe he could. Maybe he could find a way for him to stay there, with him, and start fresh.

It was a stupid, selfish thought, but Kit couldn't help but want it. He wanted to get to know the man sitting next to him. There were so many questions plaguing his mind about the world, about his past, but he wasn't going to ask now, it wasn't the time. The farm boy was curious and more than a little attracted to the man and it was certainly adding to the want for him to stay with him.

Mentally, Dane's kicking himself just thinking of how vulnerable he's letting himself be. The last time he opened up like this resulted in his twentieth kill. The man had a nice smile, a soothing voice, hands so smooth they could almost be made entirely of fresh skin. He had asked Dane to join him for a drink. The liquor continued to flow as Dane continued to bear his heart. The man had grabbed his shoulder with his soft hands and led him back to a room. Dane had been… excited, nearly, to be spending a night with a man he could trust. Those soft hands had written the sheriff in the middle of the night. They came for Dane when he was half-naked in an expensive bed and he couldn't help but stare at the beautiful man who stood in the doorway, absently playing with the chain of a necklace. The law had tried to snag Dane, but he had always had quite a knack for being slippery. He hadn't ment for his bullet to hit home in the man's chest. He meant for the officer. He meant for the sherrif. He meant to deal a killing blow to someone else. Dane had tried apologizing, holding the man's hand, but they grew cold in Dane's grasp. Afterwards, he ran. He left town, the territory–if he could, he would've left the entire country. He's heard Spain's always nice. Canada's much closer.

Not for a moment had Dane ever blamed the man for snitching. Not once did Dane ever hate him for doing so. He was… he was a law-abiding citizen with large brown eyes and a strong jaw. He had talked of his life plans with such a sure gusto that Dane couldn't help but believe him. He had always dreamed of leaving his father's humble shadow to pursue something bigger, larger than anyone in that small town had ever dreamed. Dane supposes the man… didn't want Dane in his life. No aspiring king would ever have a criminal in their cabinet. Dane doesn't dare blame the man. Dane knows all about ambition and having to take the necessary means to achieve.

The thumbs slowly caressing his cheeks seem to jolt Dane back to this horrid reality. They're rough. They're grounding. "Wanna hear my story?" Dane manages through heavy breaths and a humorless smile. "What else could I possibly tell ya'?" His hands shake as he tries to reach for Kit's hands. To hold them or remove them, he isn't sure, but he can't even grasp them. "I'm gonna get you killed eventually." By his hand or another's. "You'll just be in more danger now that you know my name and face." Because the law only knows him as Tiger or Snipe or even sometimes both. They don't know Dane Casper Elliot and his smile and good intentions and dream to one day settle down. They just know the man who's only fired twenty-five shots and killed twenty-four with them. They know the thief, the blackmailer, the no-good cheat that leaves a trail of bloody bodies in his wake.

Kit had never had anything interesting happen in his life before. At least nothing good that was also interesting. The town he lived in was small, quiet. Nothing ever happened and nothing ever would because it wasn't a big place. The drama would move on. People would forget and people would move on from what happened because everyone did. It would only be a matter of time before the elders of the town no longer were around to see what became of the place they grew up in, leaving it to their children and their children's children. Eventually, the drama with his father would be forgotten, Kit would be able to run the farm his way and be able to sell his goods in town without having to travel to the next one over. And as such, Dane being there was the most interesting thing that had happened since.

Because of that, along with many other things, he wanted the man to stay. For one, he was kind, he had shown that in how he acted towards him. It didn't matter that he was a killer or a thief, a liar and a cheat, so far all Dane had down to him was kindness and compassion and nothing less than that. Maybe it was because he was wounded, maybe it was because Kit had saved his life and he was simply letting him live in order to repay the debt he might feel he owed. The farmboy didn't know. He didn't know if he wanted to know. What he did know was that Kit wanted to learn about Dane in a way that no one else had. At least for a few days. There were people out there hunting him down, searching for him to repay the debt he had taken, the lives he had claimed, but beneath all of that was a man who was soft and crying over those deaths because he felt awful about them. No cold-blooded killer would be crying over their deaths if they didn't care. If Dane really didn't give a shit about what happened to others, he would have ran in the night, or tried to shoot Kit and taken his horse and fled. He wouldn't be here, with him, crying about his past. It showed there was more to him than he was letting on.

"I don' care," Kit said, still wiping away the tears that had fallen down the other man's cheeks, "I don' care if 'am in danger 'cause of who ya are. Out 'ere, no one knows you. People in town don' even like me an' me family, so I doubt they'll pay attention to you if ya with me. Jus'… please, Dane, lemme get to know ya, the real you. At least until your wound is healed. After tha' you can leave whenever ya wan'."

(I APOLOGIZE DEARLY FOR THIS BEING SO INCREDIBLY LATE THE BRAINWORMS AND THE SCHEDULE HAVE NOT BEEN KIND TO ME THIS PAST WEEK)

Dane wants to scream. He wants to yell and throw things and ask why Kit doesn't have the common sense to get rid of him. He's a pest, nothing more than a swarm of termites that'll eat and eat and eat at the foundations until it all comes crumbling down. He's a raccoon living in the walls, causing mayhem before scuttling away to his safe little abode. He leaves nothing but destruction and chaos in his wake. He leaves graves and sobbing widows and angry orphans. Hell, he has to wonder how many of them are out searching for their father's murderer, hellbent on returning the favor with a bullet between Dane's blue eyes. 

But despite himself, despite how he wants to pull away and scream that he's nothing but a monster, Dane collapses in on himself, falling right into Kit's firm chest as violent sobs overtake him. His kindness is… sickening, in the way that it makes Dane feel sticky and nauseous. He doesn't deserve this. He's hardly the right man for Kit to waste all of his good heart on. If anything, Dane will just slowly poison it until it's sticky and nauseous. Everything will be sticky and nauseous and Dane is almost sick just thinking about it. He feels gross and vulnerable and every nerve that's kept him alive for this long is screaming for him to run, to get far away from the man who knows his secret and could turn him in. To run from the man he doesn't deserve. To run so his sins don't punish Kit and his mother. They're too kind for this cruel world. 

"I don' wanna," Dane manages through hefty sobs. "I don' wanna be responsible fer any of the harm that'll come to ya'." Because it's inevitable. Everything catches up to Dane eventually. As soon as he finally feels safe… they'll show up. They'll show up, and they'll try to take him away, and Dane will fight back, and someone else will end up in the ground. "It's just gon' hurt you more when I hafta leave all over again, angel." Unless he somehow had some damned reason to follow him. Nobody should follow Dane. He's lost, wandering, only able to go in wide, wide circles until he'll finally manage a way out.

(as the king of leaving notebook youre all good babes lmao don't worry)

The rational part of Kit told him that he should agree with the fact that Dane should leave like he wants to. The law always catches up to people in the end and it seemed that Dane had been running from sheriffs and police for a good long while. He was bound to be caught eventually. People always were. His dad's sins had caught up to him in the end and his whole family had suffered for it, becoming outcasts to the point of needing to send their son to the next town over to sell crops. But at the same time the good that had come from the bad, the fact that they were still earning money, able to send the other children to a fancy pants school in the city where they could see out their lives and do more than just live on a crappy ass farm in the middle of batshit nowhere and do nothing eventful with the rest of their time. Unlike Kit, who wanted something more but wasn't able to do so.

For a second he didn't know how to react when Dane collapsed into his arms. Kit was struck dumb for a good long second as he felt the other man begin to sob into his chest when he fell against him, and within seconds he wrapped his arms around the other once more. He doesn't speak, he only holds the man as he tries to think about what to say or do to convince Dane to stay. He seemed hell-bent on leaving, so why doesn't he just get up and go? There was nothing stopping from simply climbing down that later, saying goodbye, grabbing his horse and going. If he truly wanted to leave Kit wasn't going to stop him because everyone deserved a chance at freedom, and Kit certainly wasn't one to keep people around if they had no intention of staying. All he could do was hope for Dane to stay. He wanted for the other man to stick around for longer than a day or two, for a week, maybe more, until his wound was properly healed and he could go on his way without fear of bleeding out, but somehow that was becoming less of a possibility as the conversation continued.

Finally, after a long moment, Kit pulled Dane's face away from his chest so he could look him in the eye, "Then leave," He says, "Go on, leave then if tha's what ya really wan'," He nods to the ladder, "I ain't gonna force ya to stay, you're a grown man, Dane, you can do what ya wan', but I wan' ya to stay. I can 'andle myself, probably bet'er than you can at this rate. But is your life, it ain't mine, I can't force ya. If you wanna leave, then leave."

(heyyyy uhhhh ummm I apologize eheh. i'm alive tho and finally have a break in my never ending homework and job alsdjf)

Dane's heart aches as Kit tells him to leave, orders him away if that's really what Dane wants. He can't help but choke on his breath as he even tries to imagine a life where he had never met Kit. Even in such a short, short while, Dane has never felt the kindness of a stranger quite as genuine, quite as real as Kit's. He's big and burly and the most gentle soul Dane has ever spent his time with. He could do anything, but here he is, cradling Dane as he sobs over his sins. What am I doing? He begs his own mind. Tell me, why am I here? Why did I stop here? The logical answer is of course, he was bleeding. He was pouring his soul out of a gaping bullet wound and if he didn't stop he would've died. Dane doesn't want to die. Hell, it would be better for everyone, but he's selfish. He always has been. 

"I–" He wants to protest, but what kind of man would that make him. A hypocrite? A liar? A man who goes back on his word? If he remains there's no doubt his past will catch up. But he's injured, damnit. It's going to catch up faster than he wants anyways. "I'll tell ya' this, angel." When he speaks, it's barely above a whisper. "I'll…" God. Goddamnit, this stupid idea could get him killed. Hell, even worse, it could get Kit killed. "I'll stay until I can walk easy." Knowing his own body and healing, it'll only be a few days. Four at the maximum, tomorrow at the minimum. He'll wait until the hitch in his step has died and he'll be able to run away from the law. "It won't be long but it'll… it'll be something." Because, god, as much as he should, Dane does not want to go.

If he could, he would ask Kit to come with him. They could go up north together and find themselves a cabin–hell, even build one. He wouldn't mind watching Kit work in the heat of the day. Of course, Dane would also be working, but, well, he would be distracted through most of it. He wants to ask Kit to explore, to adventure, to eventually settle down where they'd both be safe from the sins still chasing them. But what man would Dane ever be if he asks Kit to leave behind his mother, his farm, his entire life just to be with a man he had just barely met. 

"'m sorry for crying all over ya'," Dane says again when he finds his voice. Without even thinking, he reaches out, smoothing the wrinkles in Kit's shirt that Dane had created. "Usually I'm better at keepin' it all in." He at least tries an uneasy, shakey smile with that. 

(lol youre all good dw about! glad you're alive tho askdlja)

Kit didn't want Dane to leave, not in the slightest. The man, even though he had only known him for a few hours, was already kinder and certainly more interesting than anyone else he had ever met before in his life. There was something about the cowboy that drew Kit to him. He didn't know what it was, but something was screaming at his soul. It could have been the fact that he was lonely and craved human connection from someone other than his animals, or maybe because talking to his mother could grow tiresome when she knew everything about him, or simply because Dane had a story that he wanted to learn. He didn't know, nor did he care, but what he did know was that he wanted the man to stay.

But he was insisting on leaving. Each time he said the word it was as if his heart cried a little more. Rationally, he knew that he shouldn't be feeling this way over a man that he had just met. Fuck, he needed to stop romanticising everything. It had helped him when he was bored and lonely but this was a real person sitting next to him. God, he was nothing more than selfish for wanting to keep Dane there and all to himself. He had a life. A dangerous life at that but a life that was his own. He couldn't just stop everything for a simple farmboy, that wasn't right. As much as Kit wanted that, and he knew he was damned for being so wrapped up in a man he hadn't known very long, he would have to let him go when the time finally came.

Luckily, though, the other man agreed to stay for just a little longer, and he couldn't stop the way his shoulders sagged with relief as he said so. One more day would have been enough, four would be brilliant. It would be wonderful to be able to spend more time with the man, learn more about his past, and maybe had a helping hand on the farm, too, "Good. Mama wouldn't be happy if you left unable to walk." That was a fact.

Kit didn't stop himself from taking Dane's hands in his own when the other man reached out to smooth down his shirt, "You don't gotta apologise," He said, offering a smile, "You're allowed to cry, is only human."