T4T/Trans based one-shots

Coldest Hearth prt. 1

Notes: quick little summary, this is set in the 1860s

Warnings: body dysphoria

Word Count: 3,219

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It was sundown when Beau Hill finished his trek past the forked mountains.

Crimson red, rose-like pink, and baby blue painted the sky this evening. Beau looked up, admiring the sky. It was fall and way past afternoon for the ever-growing shorter day.

He stopped along with his horse and then dismounted at his destination. The house lights streamed like a show light, all imitating the dirt and sweat along Beau's brow as he let his horse to the stable near it.

"My, you're late today." A melodic voice sounded along the wrap-around porch.

"Can't make perfect time 'round here, the river overran itself so we made a detour."

"But still, I missed you." The voice said again with a slight laugh.

Beau looked towards the more than familiar voice, looking up to Kane Davenport, his friend. The man leaned over the chipped yellow railing of the porch, his half-buttoned vest grazing its wood.

They'd been friends for years, as Kane was a wealthy tradesman, and Beau himself did just about anything a cowboy could. He hopped from ranch to ranch but always ended back up at the Davenport residence.

It was his only reoccurring home, always waiting for him with a man he'd known forever inside. Even if it was a rundown shack, he'd come to see Kane.

"Beau? You're doing it again." Kane sighed, stepping off the porch and walking to him.

Beau had paused, zoned out really, but with Kane's reminder he huffed and finally put away the horse before following his friend back to the house.

Kane had begun talking of various trades and things that came and went with Beau being gone, and he listened to him. The dust and dirt sanded their boots, only Kane noticed, for Beau was already dirty enough.

Though when the polished man complained, he looked over to him, his eyes noticing his clean and tailored clothes, and his neat hair.

Kane always had long ashy brown hair, close to gray, though you could never tell its exact length because it was always put away into a low bun. But tonight, It was in a loose ponytail that showed off its real beauty.

They made it to the house and had dinner, a continued tradition that when Beau always arrived, they'd eat and talk together. Even if he was tired out of his mind, Beau didn't mind the strain if it meant he'd get to talk to him.

"So, I've been hearing rumors from that mountain you traveled around, of a creature." Kane smiled mischievously as if he knew Beau would bring news.

"I heard a couple of locals mention it, it could just be some hysteric tale of some monster."

"Perhaps, but what if it's not?" Kane asked, taking a sip from a glass filled with thick red wine.

"You better not be going around killing folks if this is what I think it is." Beau sighed, rising from his chair at the table.

"Gods, I wish, but no it's not me." Kane tapped his glass, his nail hitting the rim in a chime of a sound.

"Then you might have company before you know it," Beau told him, losing his handkerchief around his neck before shoving it in his pocket.

"I think not, vampires are solitary hunters, my dear." Kane frowned.

Beau nodded, thinking over any other possibilities.