Chapter Text
Stupid, stupid, stupid, Slim cursed himself as he walked.
He’d gotten too comfortable. He’d gotten too comfortable and then overreacted about nothing, as it turned out, which was even worse. He clenched his jaw and ran his fingers through his hair before immediately smoothing it back down, wishing he’d grabbed his hat before he’d left the house. Stupid.
No amount of fidgeting would help him get a handle on his emotions.
When he reached the fence at the edge of the yard, he braced both hands against the top rail. He let his head drop down to his chest and his eyes close. Stupid.
He blew out a sigh.
Slim knew Jess had been skittish about the whole arrangement since his very first day on the ranch. Slim could feel it. He’d figured it was best to give the other man space, both physically and with respect to their newfound bond, and had therefore done his best to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself. He didn’t pry into Jess’s emotions, and he didn’t allow his own to project onto Jess. The stage line and the ranch had given him plenty of reasons to be away from the ranch house, whether he liked it or not, so physical distance hadn’t been a concern. With the bond, on the other hand…
Keeping his thoughts shielded had once been second nature. With Jess around, those times were long gone.
It had been a long and exhausting six weeks.
Six weeks, he mused, shifting to lean on his elbows rather than his hands. He looked out into the darkness, the last few colors of the sunset fading behind him.
Slim knew he hadn’t been perfect in his “keeping to himself” strategy. He couldn’t help it. Some nights, when he was finally at home and slipped into the bedroom, he’d relax his shields. Sensing Jess was as natural as breathing. Feeling Jess’s relaxed, sleep warm emotions eased Slim into a more peaceful rest than he could remember having since he was a kid. The feeling was downright addictive. The guilt over those stolen moments the following morning paled in comparison.
Tonight, he’d gotten carried away. Slim had been caught up in the peace of the evening, caught up in the glow of what could be. Andy and Jonesy had been thrilled to have Slim at home and Jess was finally comfortable at the dinner table, finally settling in. Slim had relaxed without meaning to, and his contentment had spilled out of him like a soft blanket over the dining area.
When Andy had mentioned Jess moving out, thought…
Panic had slid down Slim’s spine and transferred into his accidental projection as well.
Stupid.
He’d felt Jess’s responding anxiety and confusion as if it was his own and did his best to slam his shields closed. If Jess really wanted to move on, Slim had no right to sway his mind.
Slim’s terror turned to shame and embarrassment as soon as he heard Jess choke out the word “Bunkhouse”.
Jess wasn’t trying to leave. He wanted his own space. Perfectly natural, Slim acknowledged, even though the ache in his chest hated the idea. Hated the idea less than Jess leaving all together, but he hated it all the same.
Stupid.
Slim sighed again, his heartbeat finally returning to something resembling normal as he stood in the dark. He idly wondered if Jess would be listening closely enough to hear the change.
As the minutes passed, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to answer to be.
He distantly heard the side door open and close, followed by the barn door. He could tell by the footfalls in between that it was Andy checking on the stock. Slim listened to the night sounds until he heard Andy open and close the barn door again, hustle across the yard, and reenter the house. It wasn’t twenty minutes later that the square of light cast from the bedroom window faded and went out.
Somewhere above him, an owl hooted, rousing Slim from his vigil.
‘Spose I can’t hide out here forever, he thought, as he shifted his weight off the fence and back onto his feet. With any luck at all, the house would be asleep. Slim could slip in and no one would be the wiser.
Of course, as he approached the porch, his hopes of sneaking back in evaporated like morning dew.
”It’s cold now, but I reckon it’ll still taste all right,” Jess drawled as Slim strode closer. Somewhere in Andy’s comings and goings, Slim had missed Jess’s light tread on the porch. The man himself was sitting in one of the rocking chairs under the lantern light, holding out Slim’s plate of half-eaten pie, an easy smile on his face. In spite of the circumstances, or maybe because of, Slim smiled back as he took the plate.
“Nice night out here anyhow,” Jess continued. Slim settled into the other rocker, taking his fork in his hand. “Been a long time since I just sat out an enjoyed the stars, without intending to sleep under ‘em.”
Slim just hummed as he took another bite of pie. Jess let them settle into silence, broken only by the scape of Slim’s fork and the occasional nighttime critter.
“Brought somethin’ else, too,” Jess piped up, picking up a bottle and two glasses from the floor beside his chair. Slim raised his eyebrows as Jess poured the amber liquor.
“Thought Jonesy hid that well this time,” Slim said, taking the offered glass.
Jess just laughed and tapped the side of his nose. “Please,” he said, “I’m a regular ole bloodhound.”
Slim smiled again in spite of himself.
They both sipped the whiskey; any remaining tension smoothed into something softer as the evening air cooled around them.
“It was… nice, you know,” Jess said quietly into the dark, long after Slim had set his plate down and refilled both glasses, “Feelin’ like that, I mean. Like everything was right in the world.”
Slim’s supper rolled around his stomach. He clenched his jaw.
“You don’t have to cater to me,” Slim answered, his voice rougher than intended as he did his best to hold it steady. “I’m sorry, Jess.”
“Sorry?” Jess scoffed, “Sorry for what, a nice evening?”
Slim tilted his face toward the heavens. “Just sorry,” he said, the words spilling out on a huff of air. “You should be able to enjoy your dinner without worrying about my reactions,” he said, not able to look at Jess.
They were both quiet for a few moments before Jess’s smooth drawl eased into the stillness.
“Spent some time listening to Jonesy tonight,” he said, nearly drawing a chuckle out of Slim. “A dangerous thing, I’ve learned,” Jess added in response, the rueful smile in his tone unmistakable, “but I think this time he had quite a bit right. I reckon you and I should trade some truths for truths. How does that sound?”
Slim swallowed hard and nodded.
“I’ll start, and I’ve got two for ya,” Jess said. “The first is that I don’t plan on leavin’ anytime soon. It takes a lot for me to give up a job when the bunks are soft and the boss ain’t too bad,” he said, his tone light, “and in this case, the cookin’ ain’t too bad either.”
Slim’s shoulders relaxed minutely.
“The second is this,” he said, his gaze fixed firmly on Slim’s profile, “feeling that tonight? That kinda content, warm feeling? That’s the best I’ve felt in months. Maybe longer,” he said, his voice dropping low. “I didn’t even notice it wasn’t my own feelings at first.”
Slim closed his eyes tightly, still refusing to look Jess’s way. Didn’t even notice it was me, he thought to himself, which is exactly the problem.
As the quiet stretched on, Slim could feel Jess’s restlessness like a physical thing as he waited for a response. Just as Jess took a breath to speak again, Slim blurted out his first truth:
“You were scared of me.”
Now it was Jess’s turn to click his jaw shut.
Slim chanced a slight turn of his head to take in Jess’s expression, expecting to see the ice-cold indifferent mask he’d seen slide into place before. Instead, he saw only mild self-consciousness. The expression looked so foreign on Jess that it brought Slim up short.
“I’ll admit,” Jess started slowly, “that at first I had my reservations about this whole bond business. I’ve spent time with guides before, and not all of it positive.” He paused, seemingly lost in thought. Slim didn’t press him. “I know what some guides are capable of, and I wasn’t sure what it would be like, having this kind of connection with someone. Someone I barely knew, to boot,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly, “but I’m gettin’ used to the idea.”
Slim didn’t know what to say to that, so he just shifted his gaze to the boards between his boots. Jess, meanwhile, rocked back in his chair and raised his eyebrows.
“That’s three from me and only one from you, Slim,” he prompted gently.
Slim released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I didn’t think you’d appreciate me in your head,” he said, speaking directly to the floorboards.
“Didn’t think I would either,” Jess agreed evenly. “The first few weeks I would have balked at it. But like I said, I’m gettin’ used to the idea now.”
The owl hooted again somewhere in the darkness as Jess and Slim’s words settled between them.
“My father was the only sentinel I ever really got to know,” Slim started, his voice nearly a whisper. Jess nodded but didn’t interrupt. “When he died, I closed myself off tight. It was just too much for me to handle on my own,” he confessed. “I got plenty good at it, to the point where I almost forgot how to open up. But ever since you were shot, since your zone…” He tailed off. Jess stayed silent. Slim finished his whiskey just for something to do.
Nowhere to hide now, he told himself. Slim let his admission pour out.
“Ever since your zone and our bond, I haven’t been able to close myself off the way I’m used to. It’s like someone’s got their boot tip in the door, holding it open a crack.” Slim scrubbed a hand down his face. There, he thought, I’ve said it. Slim braced, ready for Jess to decide he couldn’t stay around a guide who couldn’t control himself. After all, what choice did the other man have?
What Slim expected and what Jess eventually answered with, though, couldn’t have been more opposite.
“What if you just don’t?”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t close yourself off,” Jess said, his voice steady as a rock with a tinge of curiosity, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.
Slim, dumbfounded, gaped at the sentinel next to him.
“I’m serious,” Jess said, leaning in toward Slim’s rigid form, elbows on his knees, his hands loose and relaxed. “C’mon, think about it. No more tryna hold yourself apart from the rest of us, a chance to just relax? You can’t deny you like the idea. I can hear your heartbeat, remember?,” he tossed in, his tanned face crinkling around his eyes as he smiled. “Didn’t anyone warn ya not to try and lie to a sentinel?”
Slim’s heart was, in fact, hammering against his ribs. Jess was right about all of it. The idea did sound good, too good to be true in fact, and Slim did know firsthand how impossible it was to lie to a sentinel. But. Slim could feel the hesitation behind Jess’s confident words. He knew Jess wasn’t really sure what he was asking for and that he was just as nervous about it as Slim. It sounded wonderful, but that didn’t change anything.
Flustered and feeling outflanked, Slim fired back.
“Pretty hard to lie to a guide too, you know,” he said, leveling a stare across the short distance. I know you aren’t as sure as you’re trying to sound, he meant it to say, calling Jess’s bluff with his eyes.
Jess’s smile stayed fixed in place as he rocked back in his chair, but it no longer met his eyes the same way. Slim hadn’t realized how charged the air between them had become until the sudden change. Out of reflex, his mind analyzed the emotions slipping past his defenses. What had been heady and intense one minute, as Jess had badgered and backed him into a corner, had cooled to something almost calculating as soon as Slim pushed back. Realization smacked him between the eyes as he took a fresh look at the man beside him, lips parted in surprise.
“So that’s what it is,” Jess said to himself, seemingly ignoring Slim’s shock.
“You played me,” Slim answered, leaning back himself, unconsciously mirroring Jess’s position.
Now, the grin was back in full force. “Easy there,” Jess said, his palms raised in mock surrender as Slim shook his head in disbelief. “If you’d been paying any attention at all, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. C’mon, Slim, I wasn’t even trying to be subtle.”
Slim scoffed and rolled his eyes, unwilling to admit that Jess was right. The con was blatantly obvious in hindsight. If you wanted to know where the fractures were, you pressed in all the possible spots until you got a reaction. Worked on horses, cattle, and ranchers too, it would seem.
The smug warmth faded from Jess’s attitude as he spoke again.
“There’ve been times in my life I’ve had to lie,” Jess started, his gaze drifting over the dark yard. “Plenty of ‘em. Ain’t proud of it, but it’s a skill like any other. You get better with practice. That goes for lying to guides, too,” he said, tossing a glance back at Slim. Slim listened silently. “Point is, Slim, if I wanted to lie to ya, I could manage it. If I wanted to leave, I would. Hell, the fact that you’re so dadgum worried about controlling me, or trapping me here, or whatever other nonsense you’ve got knockin’ around that noggin a’ yours, is half the reason why I trust you not to,” he said, his tone bordering on something… fond.
Slim swallowed hard. He knew he wasn’t imagining it. The emotions he could feel from Jess were smooth as silk ribbons in his mind, reassuringly soft and strong. Sure, there was still an undercurrent of uncertainty there, but Slim figured it had more to do with Jess’s uncertainty regarding his reaction rather than the words he was saying.
Jess meant it. He meant every word.
He wants to stay.
A bubble of hope pushed its way into Slim’s chest, and he was helpless to stop it.
“It’s easier for me when you’re close,” Jess went on, changing the subject. “With my senses, I mean. I haven’t zoned once after my first night here. I can’t even remember the last time I went this long without any problems,” he mused, head cocked to the side, “I ain’t even had a headache since bein’ around here.”
Slim cleared his throat. “It’s similar for me,” he shared, flexing his fingers against his thighs to ground himself. He cleared his throat again, noticing his fingernails had paled from the pressure. He consciously relaxed his grip and watched as the color crept back in under the dim lamplight. Get it together, Sherman. Jess wants to be here. He wants to be here.
“I sleep better with you. I mean, with you nearby. In the house. Since you’ve been here, I mean,” Slim said, the words tumbling out all wrong as he tried to explain himself. He coughed in embarrassment and felt his cheeks heat up. Slim knew Jess was silently laughing at his expense, but outwardly, he just smiled in understanding. Slim rolled his eyes skyward, imagining the stars beyond the porch roof as he steeled himself to get through the next part.
“Fact is, having you there, safe and content… It’s the best part of my day.”
Jess hummed his agreement, leaving no doubt that the feeling was mutual.
Slim slumped in relief. He let his head tip forward as the tension finally melted out of his shoulders.
Jess wants to be here.
He sighed, this time in concession. “You’re sure about what you said?” he asked, turning to meet Jess’s eyes. “You’re really willing to feel everything I’m feeling, all the time?”
“Well now,” Jess drawled, his mouth quirked up on one side. His tone made it clear that the answer was yes, even as he went on. “If memory serves, you’ve got quite a bit goin’ on up there. How about we start with some small doses?”
Slim grinned. “Small doses, huh?”
“Yeah, small doses. Can’t have you goin’ an’ changin’ all at once,” Jess quipped, “Wouldn’t want you to strain yourself.”
“Sure,” Slim replied, moving to stand. “Small doses it is. Now, what do you say we head in before Jonesy notices his medicinal stock is a little short?”
Jess snagged the bottle as he made his way to his feet, gently knocking his shoulder into Slim’s.
“Lead the way, Pard.”