"God dammit, Micah! Your fucking guns?? That's what was so important that risk our damn lives?? I should've left you to rot in that damn cell"
Micah kicked harder against Baylock's side, making him speed up. He wished he could just shoot Arthur and enjoy some peace and quiet.
Arthur catches up to Micah again, "Are you listening to me, dammit? I'm sick of your shit, Micah, you selfish motherfucker!"
Micah finally turns to face him, "You shut your goddamn mouth. I'm sick of listening to you bitch about everything I do."
As they bicker, a group of men on horseback start to catch up with them.
"You never do anything right, Micah. I don't know why Dutch keeps you around, you're nothing but trouble. And before we know it , you'll--"
"Shut up."
"No, you listen here, I--
"Quiet dammit," Micah argues, motioning behind them with his head. Arthur turns to look.
"Shit," He whispers. "Looks like O'Driscoll boys." As he speaks, Micah has already unholstered his gun.
"Get ready for a fight." Arthur has barely a second to react before Micah is shooting behind them at the other men. He knocks two off their horses before the barrel emptied.
Arthur shoots as Micah trys to reload his pistol, which isn't an easy task at the speed they're moving. Arthur manages to knock the third man off his horse. The man falls and is dragged into the trees by his horse, his foot caught in the stirrup.
"Shit. Shit."
"Micah, this is all your damn fault, shooting up the entire town." Arthur speeds up then slows his horse in front of Micah's.
"Get out of my way." Micah forces through clenched teeth. Arthur holds his ground, blocking the narrow path. Micah sighs, turning his horse and moving quickly into the trees. Baylock is better trained than Arthur's newly purchased horse so it's easy to weave through the trees. After making good distance from Arthur, he began to look for a place to hide out.
He spots a huge barn to his right and moves towards it. It looks like it could fall in any minute, but Micah doesn't care, he just wants to make sure Arthur doesn't find him. The inside is dark; very little afternoon light making its way through the boards. He ties Baylock's lead to a post and continues deeper into the barn. He finds stairs that lead up to a loft, so he climbs hoping to find somewhere to sleep for the night. The stairs let out tired creaks as he moves upward. The final step lets out an agonizing cry, piercing the silence. Looking around, he can see the loft still holds a few hay bails from its long past owner.
'For once, something goes my way.' He thinks. 'I deal with enough shit as it is. Especially him. That prick, Morgan.'
He can't help but think about how easy it would be to kill him; one bullet is all it would take and his world would be brighter.
As he starts to pull apart the hay to create a makeshift bed, the sound of a squeaking board catches his attention. Stopping what he was doing, he pulls his gun and crouches behind the bails.
He can make out footsteps now, walking their way through the barn. They stop. Silence. Micah turns his head trying to grab any sound from the musky air around him. Then, he hears the same squeaks from the aching steps that he climbed moments before. Readying his gun and positioning himself to pounce, holding his breath.
The final squeak of the last step cuts through the air. Micah practically leaps from hiding and points his gun. Just inches away from the end of the barrel stands Arthur.
"Dammit, Micah, what the hell is wrong with you? You think you're clever?" Micah remains silent. "Put that damn gun away." Arthur's breath catches as Micah steps closer, pushing the gun into his forehead.
"I don't think I will, black lung." Micah moves closer still, his face close enough for Arthur to smell the lingering whiskey and cigarette smoke. "I might just pull the damn trigger. Make my life a whole lot better."
"Micah, now quit jo--"
"Dammit boy, don't test me." Micah moves the gun to under Arthur's jaw, pushing into the soft skin. "I can't think of one good reason to keep you alive."
Sweat beads start to build on Arthur's forehead, some dripping down his face. He realized now that Micah was serious. He had been pushed to his limit and was going to take his life.
Micah let's out a deep chuckle. "Look at that... so much fear in those eyes." The sight is truly something to behold, and he feels an unintentional, yet unavoidable tightness in his pants. He leans in further still, leaving mear inches between them. "Beg." Once again, Arthur's breath hikes. "Beg for your miserable damn life, and I might be generous."
"Micah, y-you don't want to do this. I--"
"Oh believe me," Micah growls, "I would take pleasure in killing you. Hell, I could get off to blowing your damn brains out."
Arthur doesn't see an ounce of remorse behind those eyes. Those deep blue eyes. Arthur flushes, taken aback by his intrusive thoughts. 'What the hell are you thinking about that for?' Before he can concentrate on stopping it, his dick begins to harden, pushing roughly against his jeans. Now he almost wants Micah to shoot him. 'Why am I getting off to this? Moments away from the end of my life, and all I can think about is..." Arthur unsuccessfully takes a subtle glance down Micah's chest then to his crotch. He doesn't know if it was all in eager thinking, but he could've sworn Micah's pants seem tight.
'What the fuck was that?' Micah noticed Arthur's wandering eyes. 'Is he actually enjoying this?'
Micah decides to test the waters, sliding the gun's barrel along Arthur's jawline, stopping directly under his chin, increasing the pressure enough so a bruise would form. If he keeps him alive, that is.
Arthur's cheeks continue to glow red. He wants to speak, but all he manages is a short gasp, leaving his lips parted slightly. Micah leans in further yet, moving his mouth close enough that his breath pushes against Arthur's ear. "I... said... beg."
Arthur's words are quiet and shaky, "Please, I'll--" He gulps. "I'll do anything, just... don't kill me." Micah fights a shiver from the feeling of Arthur's breathy words against his hair. The begging, the gun, the fear, it's all too much for Micah. He pulls away and looks Arthur dead in the eyes.
"Oh, I don't know if I believe you." Micah deep voice vibrates the air around them. "Anything is a huge promise." He pulls the gun away from his chin. "Get on your knees." Arthur can only imagine what's coming as he hurriedly moves to kneel. He looks up at Micah, and is thrown aback when he pushes the gun against his lips. "Open." Arthur's eyes grow wide as Micah stares deep into his soul. "Come on, black lung, you said you'd do anything to stay alive." Arthur shutters at the familiar click of the hammer being pulled into place. "Now, open, before I paint this barn with your blood."
Arthur opens his mouth slowly, and Micah forces the gun into his mouth, causing him to release a small gag. Micah's mouth formed into an evil grin at the sight. "Look at that," Micah purrs. "Brought to your lowest, all at the hands of me." Micah feels his cock growing to its full size at the sight.
Arthur's eyes are tearing up as Micah moves the gun against his tongue, causing the terrible taste of metal and gunpowder to engulf his tastebuds. Without the ability to swallow, drool begins to spill down his chin.
It's all too much for Micah and he starts to clumsily undo his belt with his nondominate hand. Arthur's eyes widen at the sound, and he can't help but wish he could look down. Micah releases his cock and squeezes, juices already beginning to drip down his shaft.
"Anything," Micah coos at the idea. He pushes the gun into Arthur's throat, making him gag once more before removing it all together. Arthur is a coughing, drooling, teary mess and Micah is loving it. The barrel is pushed against Arthur's temple, pushing hard to force him to look down. Arthur is met with sight of Micah's dick, glistening in precum. He feels the space in his pants lessen as he grows.
"Now," Micah says between clenched teeth. "Open that whore mouth of yours again."
Arthur obeyed and without warning Micah forced his cock into his mouth. A sigh escaped Micah's lips and he began to fuck Arthur's mouth ruthlessly.
Arthur was blinded by lust; all he could do was hang out his tongue and let Micah fuck deep into his throat. It's all he wanted to do. Arthur struggled to focus on freeing himself from his pants, but once he did, he started to stroke violently. He had been dripping ever since Micah first put the gun to his throat, so he had no issue sliding his hand up and down his aching dick. There was no holding his feelings back now; Arthur began to moan around Micah's cock.
Micah began to feel his high, but he wanted more than just Arthur's throat. He removed himself as swiftly as he had entered, and without anything to muffle the sounds, Micah heard the grunts and moans Arthur was releasing.
Kicking Arthur's hands away from his cock caused him to let out a desperate cry. 'No, I was so close...' Arthur despised Micah for denying his release.
"Turn around and get on your hands and knees, whore." Arthur couldn't stop himself from obeying so swiftly. He never knew how much he wanted this. "Look how desperately you're grasping onto your pathetic life." If only Micah knew how much Arthur actually wanted this. Once Arthur had turned, Micah positioned himself behind the other man.
Micah yanked down Arthur's pants; the fabric burned against his skin due to the force, causing Arthur to let out another cry. Micah couldn't care less about the pain he was causing his temporary partner, but he couldn't deny the joy he got from Arthur's cries.
Before Arthur could even begin to prepare for what was coming, Micah spit on his hole and forced himself in. Arthur nearly screamed from the pain, and while he writhed underneath Micah's grasp, he pulled himself out again. Arthur's head was fluttering in agony and lust. Once again without warning Micah thrust himself in, getting deeper than the first time.
Arthur's cries were music to Micah's ears, and he started a fast pace, pounding into Arthur's tight ass. Within just a few thrusts, Arthur was already becoming so wet for Micah's cock. Micah gritted his teeth at the thought of how turned on Arthur was by his dick thrusting into him. "Dammit, black lung, I never knew what a cock slut you actually were."
A gaspy moan escaped Arthur's throat when he felt Micah hit against his prostate. It was like nothing Arthur had felt before, but in this moment it's all he wanted. Arthur dropped down from his hand onto his shoulder so he could continue to stroke himself. His moans got louder; the new position was allowing Micah to pound into him perfectly, stroking against his insides causing his climax to near even faster.
The new position also gave Micah a better angle, and he was able to move faster and harder.
"Mic--oh, fuck, I'm gonna--" Arthur felt the build up start, knowing his release was right there.
With that Micah let out a deep moan and emptied himself into Arthur's ass. He jerked as he slowed, pushing himself in a few more times, draining himself into the other man.
"No, no, I-- Micah," Arthur begged when Micah slid out completely. "Please, help-- need--"
"Shut up, Morgan." Micah stood and began to zip up his pants and redo his belt. And with that, he reholstered his gun and left Arthur to finish himself on the floor.