Chapter Text
He was trouble. From the moment he walked into the bar that night, Tango knew he was trouble. But damn, if trouble wasn't cute. Trouble was more than cute.
Sunkissed freckled skin, blonde hair, and a glint in deep brown eyes that had a sense of mischief behind them. Toned figure from manual labor, very obvious from the half unbuttoned shirt that he wore under his vest. The way he sauntered up to the bar with a purpose sent a chill through Tango's spine.
Trouble was more than cute. Trouble was fine as all hell.
"What can I get you, sir?" Tango hardly managed, clearing his throat and trying to calm his heart. He was pretty sure the stranger could hear it.
"Jus' a whisky, sugar, no ice." Even his voice was worth melting over. A low rumble that nearly made Tango shudder. And the pet name was so casual. Tango wondered if he called everyone that.
"Yessir." He nodded and went back to the taps. He thought he was being subtle in the way he eyed up the stranger, but apparently the stranger's eyes were more than just pretty.
"Y'see somethin' ya like, darlin'?" He teased, and Tango felt heat rush to his cheeks again. Damn this handsome cowboy.
"Well-" He said, oh-so eloquently, "I- I just- don't know who you are, that's all. I haven't seen you around here before."
"Maybe that's for the best." The stranger hums, nodding a thank you as Tango sets his drink down. "Name's James Cassidy. Friends call me Jimmy."
"Tango." He introduced with a smile, leaning over the bar to talk to the strange cowboy more. He never revealed anything more about himself than vague anecdotes about himself and a man named Roswell, but Tango listened intently, chin resting in his hand as he let Jimmy go on.
Eventually, the bar was going to close. So Jimmy smiled at the bartender and extended an offer to him.
"How's about we carry this on back at my place, sugar." He said smoothly. Tango blushed at the implications of what that might could mean, but smiles and takes Jimmy's offered arm.
"That'd be nice."
That was years ago. Years ago, when Jimmy was nothing more than a strange cowboy that blew into his saloon.
Nowadays, there were easier ways of describing that handsome cowboy. Charming, sweet, funny, a bit awkward. But Tango preferred to call Jimmy his husband.
Jimmy was a troubled man, sure. He had a look in his eyes, one that Tango could only describe as haunted. Like he was being followed by the ghosts of a demon that wouldn't take shape.
He had scars all over him. Scars that he often refused to talk about. There were a few burn scars that ran along his shoulder blades and left rib. On the right rib, there was a diagonal scar, that seemed to be the most sensitive to discussion. Jimmy always seemed to shut down when it was brought up. He just referred to it as "unfortunate circumstances".
No matter how troubled, Tango loved him. Besides.
Trouble was fine as all hell.
Life was smooth sailing from then on. Tango still ran his saloon, while Jimmy tended to their home, their ranch. He didn't mind all that much. It kept his hands busy, he'd said at one point.
They were together, and they were happy.
Though, Tango's secureness in their lives, in their life together, didn't stop him from sensing a cold bolt of dread running through him, as soon as he sees a couple figures walking through the door.
"Don' mean t'bother ya." The first gruffs out and smirks as he leans over the bar. "But are you Tango Cassidy?"
"What's it to you." Tango snarks, rolling his eyes as he goes to pour another glass of alcohol for a patron.
The second stranger speaks up, "No need t'be all feisty, we ain't here t'fight. We're just... friends of your husband's."
That tone didn't seem very friendly.
"An' we were thinkin'... there might be somethin' about him you don't know about."