[ he gets it, he guesses. some folk donāt have a whole lot of choices and hell maybe marrying to get a roof of their head and a fresh start somewhere no one knows āem ā for some folk, thatās the only card left on the table. sunday sounded like a man that should have the whole damn deck open to him, laid out one by one, his to choose and pick over. sunday sounded too good to be true.
and boothill expected to be standingā here, looking dumb as rocks, while the train whistled away without no sunday on it ever.
imagine his surprise when thatās not what happens. when sunday looks just as good as the dreamy, angelic vision that he sold on paper in their letters. thereās no mistaking him, aināt ever been a man more fitting of the name sunday.
and hereās boothill, all thought of manners so long damn forgotten, while sunday is picture perfect. probably knows which little spoon and fork to eat with at a fancy dinner table. he doesnāt think heās ever felt so underdressed in his life. every hair is damn well perfectly in place on sunday. with the sun hitting his hair just right, he looksā¦ nothin like the kind of downtrodden fella boothill was expecting to attract. a manās gotta be some kind of desperate to marry a stranger for a fresh start.
hell if boothill can relate to that kind of serene face sundayās pulling, politely offering up his hand like he didnāt respond to some classified about matrimony. aināt he just optimistic, implying this could be a blessing. boothill knows damn well his face is showing how baffled he is at the offered hand, but he only fumbles a moment before he takes sundayās white-delicately gloved hand. heās a heavy handed person, literally, but he takes care with sunday. the corner of his mouth pulls up in a sharp smile, ] Reckon itās a good thing one of us is an optimist.
[ maybe itās all that believing and praying, because boothill knows how he looks. contrary to that appearance, boothill does make to politely grab sundayās luggage after the handshake. thereās got to be a catch and heās still waiting for it. ] Itās just Boothill, yknow. Donāt you think itās a little too much to call your future husband mister?
[ there is no correct way to greet a stranger you've decided to marry, so sunday takes no offense at boothill's reaction. he had no real expectations coming into thisāin fact, the man he agreed to marry didn't factor much into his decision at all.
it is a pleasant surprise that boothill has quite a handsome face. perhaps his loneliness is the result of living in such a remote area, perhaps there's more to it. presumably it's better not to ask questions if he doesn't want to receive them in turn. ]
Ohāthank you, but there's no need, [ he insists when boothill grabs his suitcase. it's tightly packed but mainly just with his wardrobe and prized possessions. ] I'm quite capable of pulling my own weight, so to speak, or I wouldn't have responded.
[ he smiles warmly and shakes his head. ] Though... I wasn't certain that I would be the only taker so I didn't want to presume. Are you saying you've already made your decision?
[ boothill hadnāt ever been scared of a little work. sure, it was a lot for one person, wasnāt ever meant to be just one person. the farm had grown to fit a family, work split up between the lot of them. maybe boothill was cutting corners, but ā hell, what else was there?
this. thereās this. and itās reassuring to hear sunday so quickly speaking up for himself and what he was capable of. he, admittedly, mightāve had his doubts there with that pretty face and spotless suit. ]
Didnāt mean no offense, but youāve had a long day, yeah? Lemme be courteous this once. [ boothill flashes another grin with it. itās nice that sunday is so willing to pull his weight, because boothill doesnāt think heāll have the time to pamper him anyway. no need worryin over it. ]
What? [ he barks with a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head through it. ] Not many folk itching to move out here, much less with a stranger. Itās as damn lovely as it is, but people love the convenience of the city. Soā¦ youāre it, darlin.
[ he wouldn't blame boothill for doubting his physical prowess. his image is one carefully crafted for life in the church, a young and promising lamb of god, but he couldn't look more different than his husband-to-be. any weakness is another load that boothill would have to take on, and sunday will have to prove that he's not a burden. ]
You're very kind. I appreciate the help, then, [ he relents with a soft chuckle, allowing boothill to take the suitcase. he takes his place by boothill's side and walks with him to wherever their destination may be, taking in the landscape and profile of the man beside him. ]
I suppose there aren't many who can make such a major change. It isn't something I would have envisioned for myself either. But the description you offered of the farm and the surrounding landscape... I wanted to see it for myself. [ he places a hand over his chest as though it spoke straight to his heart. ] I could sense how much it meant to you. And, well, it's not something that would make for a profitable scam.
[ because anyone taking the offer to pack up their life and get married likely doesn't have anything to leave behind. no wealth or assets, no family ties, just themselves. ]
All I can offer is an extra pair of hands, I'm afraid.
[ he isnāt exactly well-known for his manners, but heās happy enough to carry sundayās luggage for now. this hole in the wall is a hell of a ways from sundayās home, so the itās the least boothill can do. carryinā his bags. he ā yknow. appreciates this. he thinks, anyway. itāll be nice to not be the only soul under the roof, even if the two of them are as different as it gets.
the small group of passengers and folks meeting those passengers have begun dispersing the same as them. boothill leads the way through and the two of them are easily given walking space with no fuss. sunday looks every bit the churchly man he is and no oneās looking to upset god. and, well, boothill just looks like trouble, donāt he? he doesnāt spare anyone a second glance, leading them down to the dirt road. he chuckles a little at the mention that this wouldnāt make a very profitable scam ā aināt even the half of it. ]
Afraid of what? [ boothill doesnāt hesitate to fire back, but itās not in any kind of mean spirit. ] Thatās all Iām asking for. Hell, thatās more than Iām asking for.
[ whatever burden sunday could be, itās a welcome thing. four walls and just him is something boothill canāt take anymore. but sunday, oh boy, sundayās got his interest before that. talking about the viewsā¦ he canāt know how much it means to him, but the implication still gets his throat all tight. ]
Iāll tell you, maybe that cityās real easy livinā, but it doesnāt have nothinā on the views out here. Sun starts settinā or, hell, risingā¦ that there is a gorgeous thing. Not no one else around. Just you and the crickets and some cows and sheep. There aināt anything that beats it. Makes it worth it.
[ all his rambling leaves them right where they were heading, ending up back by his horse. before he makes himself sick thinking about how that view used to be a shared thing. he greets his old boy with a pat on the shoulder, mostly going ignored other than the flick of an ear flicking to pay attention. boothill turns to sunday, brow quirking up as he sizes him and his smaller stature and pristine clothes up. ] You ever ride?
[ as boothill talks, sunday begins to realize he's never seen the views being described. of course, he's been out in the wilderness, stayed in rural areasābut did he ever sit and look at the sunset? he's always been too focused on his plans, on his family, on the future to ever look around during those moments. and where did it get him?
he stares off in the distance with a contemplative hum. ]
Perhaps I've always taken such sights for granted. I may have to burden you for a scenic tour.
[ it takes him a second too long to realize that the horse they've approached is meant to be their ride. or a pack mule? he blinks at the horse as though it might give an answer, but it doesn't even glance his way. ]
Ride? Ah, [ he understands with an apologetic smile, ] I'm afraid not. I wouldn't say it's practical in my line of work.
[ his eyes flicker between boothill and the horse, still uncertain if they're actually going to ride this. ] Can it truly... hold the both of us?
[ thatās what plenty of folks do, he supposes. take things for granted. he was a bit the same before everything happened and he wholly regrets not appreciating it more. naw, it wonāt be any burden to show sunday some of the best sights. boothill is lookinā forward to it already, which is saying something considering he doesnāt even know sunday.
he huffs, cutting off a puff of laughter at the polite concern, the corner of his mouth staying picked up in amusement. ]
Iām sure heās mighty thankful for the concern, but he aināt some delicate little show pony, [ another fond, pat to the horseās shoulder, his hand lingering to rub.] Long as weāre not askinā too much, oh yeah, sure, he can handle us here to home.
[ all heās got on the farm are working horses, mostly just good olā quarter horses. a different breed from this boy here and sundayāll see the difference later, the sturdy, thick bones on this one compared to the cow horses. would have been easy to bring another horse but he had an inkling sunday wouldnāt necessarily know his way around a horse.
he sets the luggage by their feet for a moment and grips the stirrup on their side, positioning it and demonstrating ā ]
Now, angel, you put a foot here and grip onto the saddle and Iāll give you a hand up.
[ well, boothill is the expert. sunday doesn't doubt him, but there's a certain anxiety he feels about getting on a creature like this for the first time. maintaining composure and order in public is deeply ingrained into him but the literal reins won't be in his hands for this.
sunday's hesitation is interrupted by the little petname boothill offers, naturally sliding it into his sentence. is it meant to be a petname? an insult? it's awfully familiar, but they are practically engagedā
his cheeks warm slightly and he decides he should simply follow the instructions, his concerns shoved aside. ]
Of course. I trust you won't let me fall. [ he says it like a joke but he is putting a quite a bit of faith in boothill. it ends up being simpler than it looks, the horse remaining perfectly steady as sunday lifts himself with a foot, holding onto the saddle as instructed.
still, he reaches his other hand out to boothill for support and breathes a sigh of relief once he's seated on the horse. ]
Oh, I wonāt, [ boothill had assured easy as pie when sunday had mentioned trusting him not to let him fall. sunday couldnāt know it, but he doesnāt have a single reason to fear. boothillās helped more kids than he can count up on horses, kids more clumsy and wriggly than sunday is, and he wouldnāt have brought a horse he couldnāt trust to tolerate a little foolery.
boothill helps bust him up and stay steady in the stirrups so he can swing his other leg around. sunday, for all his lackinā know-how, is graceful enough to find his seat easier than most. ]
Pretty much. Lot easier to chase down cows up here. [ noticing the relieved sigh, boothill canāt help but tease, finding himself grinning, ] Whatās that sighinā for? You got the whole ride ahead of you.
[ not that riding will be any worse than getting up ā boothill wouldnāt let anything happen to some nice guy that came all the way out here forā¦ hell, him. he doesnāt doubt thereās some other motivating factors there, but at the end of the day, itās gonna boil down to the two of them sharing a life. whatever ghosts sundayās got, boothillās ready for it.
he takes a moment to unhitch their horse before fastening up sundayās luggage to the saddle straps. then heās asking sunday to scoot back a bit, before he puts a foot in the stirrup and grabs the saddle horn and hoists himself up, taking a bit more care to settle with sunday there. ] You ready? I wonāt tell nobody if you wanna hold on.
[ boothill is surprisingly gentle with his guidance, neither rushing nor exasperated by this inexperienced city boy. it's enough to make him feel... safe, for the moment. even if boothill teases that sigh as soon as it escapes. ]
I assumed you weren't planning on performing any tricks during the ride home, [ he says simply, the light smile in his voice the only indication that he may be teasing back.
and hold on he does. there's only a slight hesitation as he finds where to place his hands, gripping boothill's waist softly before settling them lower down. he shifts forward, nervous about being too far back on the horse, until his hips slot against boothill's back. perhaps a little too close, but he doesn't want to push back and go tumbling down. ]
Yes, I'm ready. Is it like this? [ he asks just in case, tilting his head to the side so he doesn't get a mouthful of boothill's long hair. his grip only tightens as they start to move, still not quite comfortable. ]
I think... a full suit may not be the appropriate attire for horse riding. [ it's not helping any, that's for certain. he furrows his brow as he tries to remember if he has anything in his wardrobe suitable for this. ]
Would you believe that I didn't bring anything less formal?
[ sunday takes his urging to heart and his arms are around boothill in a moment. itās real sweet, the way he scoots forward, pressed up against him. itās a long fall down, boothill sure canāt fault him for that. not a time heās been thrown has it ever been a gentle landing, but itās been a long time.
admittedly, mostly his fault when itās happen. no temperamental stallion or half started colt, no wild riding to give their mount a startle.
boothillās on his best behavior. he still doesnāt tell sunday he could hold on a little looser. ]
Thatās just perfect, you hold on tight now, [ he says instead, reins in hand and a little heel pressure getting them going. sundayāll figure out soon enough that heās safe and heāll relax on his own. this old boy moseys on and other than the steady rock from the motion, it aināt nothing at all.
doesnāt stop the shocked bark of laughter when sunday brings up his suit situation. boothill turns his head quick to look back at him, disbelief and amusement all over his face. fortunately, his hair goes swinging the opposite way of sundayās face. ] No chance, youāre pulling my leg! Nothinā else?
[ the exact fucking opposite of boothill, who doesnāt think he has a full suit that even fits. he really does wonder what kind of life sunday was living to have a wardrobe of nothing but suits but ā he guesses thatās a proper thing to wear, working in a church. sunday best and all. ] You do look awful nice in āem. Now, I ā I look something ridiculous in a suitā¦
[ the movement of the horse isn't all that jarring, surprisingly. they aren't speeding along, but it's a brisk pace that he eases into. but even as he relaxes against boothill's back, his hold remains tight, even a little stiff. not being the one in control is... a difficult thing to accept.
his shoulders bunch at the loud laughter whipped into his face by the wind. it's not as though he can blame boothill for finding it amusing, though. ] Well... that and sleepwear, of course. Unfortunately, I didn't have the time to shop for something more suitable to a ranch. I hoped there would be something available in town...
[ though he's barely seen any buildings at all in their trek. he recalls the last town he saw on the train was several stops back, but there must be something closer to boothill's ranch.
the compliment settles some anxiety in his chest, and he hums at boothill's self-conscious admission. ]
Oh? I doubt that's the case. [ he says with a smile, endeared. ] I find suits flattering on most people, but the key is to have them fitted properly. Anyone would look ridiculous in an ill-fitting suit.
[ there's a certain dread in his voice, like an ill-fitting suit is a common nightmare for him. ] Most tailors can handle that for you, though I've picked up some skills in case of emergencies. I can make sure your suit is fitted before the next church service, if you'll allow me.
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galaxycowboy) wrote2024-05-29 06:43 am
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and boothill expected to be standingā here, looking dumb as rocks, while the train whistled away without no sunday on it ever.
imagine his surprise when thatās not what happens. when sunday looks just as good as the dreamy, angelic vision that he sold on paper in their letters. thereās no mistaking him, aināt ever been a man more fitting of the name sunday.
and hereās boothill, all thought of manners so long damn forgotten, while sunday is picture perfect. probably knows which little spoon and fork to eat with at a fancy dinner table. he doesnāt think heās ever felt so underdressed in his life. every hair is damn well perfectly in place on sunday. with the sun hitting his hair just right, he looksā¦ nothin like the kind of downtrodden fella boothill was expecting to attract. a manās gotta be some kind of desperate to marry a stranger for a fresh start.
hell if boothill can relate to that kind of serene face sundayās pulling, politely offering up his hand like he didnāt respond to some classified about matrimony. aināt he just optimistic, implying this could be a blessing. boothill knows damn well his face is showing how baffled he is at the offered hand, but he only fumbles a moment before he takes sundayās white-delicately gloved hand. heās a heavy handed person, literally, but he takes care with sunday. the corner of his mouth pulls up in a sharp smile, ] Reckon itās a good thing one of us is an optimist.
[ maybe itās all that believing and praying, because boothill knows how he looks. contrary to that appearance, boothill does make to politely grab sundayās luggage after the handshake. thereās got to be a catch and heās still waiting for it. ] Itās just Boothill, yknow. Donāt you think itās a little too much to call your future husband mister?
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it is a pleasant surprise that boothill has quite a handsome face. perhaps his loneliness is the result of living in such a remote area, perhaps there's more to it. presumably it's better not to ask questions if he doesn't want to receive them in turn. ]
Ohāthank you, but there's no need, [ he insists when boothill grabs his suitcase. it's tightly packed but mainly just with his wardrobe and prized possessions. ] I'm quite capable of pulling my own weight, so to speak, or I wouldn't have responded.
[ he smiles warmly and shakes his head. ] Though... I wasn't certain that I would be the only taker so I didn't want to presume. Are you saying you've already made your decision?
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this. thereās this. and itās reassuring to hear sunday so quickly speaking up for himself and what he was capable of. he, admittedly, mightāve had his doubts there with that pretty face and spotless suit. ]
Didnāt mean no offense, but youāve had a long day, yeah? Lemme be courteous this once. [ boothill flashes another grin with it. itās nice that sunday is so willing to pull his weight, because boothill doesnāt think heāll have the time to pamper him anyway. no need worryin over it. ]
What? [ he barks with a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head through it. ] Not many folk itching to move out here, much less with a stranger. Itās as damn lovely as it is, but people love the convenience of the city. Soā¦ youāre it, darlin.
no subject
You're very kind. I appreciate the help, then, [ he relents with a soft chuckle, allowing boothill to take the suitcase. he takes his place by boothill's side and walks with him to wherever their destination may be, taking in the landscape and profile of the man beside him. ]
I suppose there aren't many who can make such a major change. It isn't something I would have envisioned for myself either. But the description you offered of the farm and the surrounding landscape... I wanted to see it for myself. [ he places a hand over his chest as though it spoke straight to his heart. ] I could sense how much it meant to you. And, well, it's not something that would make for a profitable scam.
[ because anyone taking the offer to pack up their life and get married likely doesn't have anything to leave behind. no wealth or assets, no family ties, just themselves. ]
All I can offer is an extra pair of hands, I'm afraid.
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the small group of passengers and folks meeting those passengers have begun dispersing the same as them. boothill leads the way through and the two of them are easily given walking space with no fuss. sunday looks every bit the churchly man he is and no oneās looking to upset god. and, well, boothill just looks like trouble, donāt he? he doesnāt spare anyone a second glance, leading them down to the dirt road. he chuckles a little at the mention that this wouldnāt make a very profitable scam ā aināt even the half of it. ]
Afraid of what? [ boothill doesnāt hesitate to fire back, but itās not in any kind of mean spirit. ] Thatās all Iām asking for. Hell, thatās more than Iām asking for.
[ whatever burden sunday could be, itās a welcome thing. four walls and just him is something boothill canāt take anymore. but sunday, oh boy, sundayās got his interest before that. talking about the viewsā¦ he canāt know how much it means to him, but the implication still gets his throat all tight. ]
Iāll tell you, maybe that cityās real easy livinā, but it doesnāt have nothinā on the views out here. Sun starts settinā or, hell, risingā¦ that there is a gorgeous thing. Not no one else around. Just you and the crickets and some cows and sheep. There aināt anything that beats it. Makes it worth it.
[ all his rambling leaves them right where they were heading, ending up back by his horse. before he makes himself sick thinking about how that view used to be a shared thing. he greets his old boy with a pat on the shoulder, mostly going ignored other than the flick of an ear flicking to pay attention. boothill turns to sunday, brow quirking up as he sizes him and his smaller stature and pristine clothes up. ] You ever ride?
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he stares off in the distance with a contemplative hum. ]
Perhaps I've always taken such sights for granted. I may have to burden you for a scenic tour.
[ it takes him a second too long to realize that the horse they've approached is meant to be their ride. or a pack mule? he blinks at the horse as though it might give an answer, but it doesn't even glance his way. ]
Ride? Ah, [ he understands with an apologetic smile, ] I'm afraid not. I wouldn't say it's practical in my line of work.
[ his eyes flicker between boothill and the horse, still uncertain if they're actually going to ride this. ] Can it truly... hold the both of us?
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he huffs, cutting off a puff of laughter at the polite concern, the corner of his mouth staying picked up in amusement. ]
Iām sure heās mighty thankful for the concern, but he aināt some delicate little show pony, [ another fond, pat to the horseās shoulder, his hand lingering to rub.] Long as weāre not askinā too much, oh yeah, sure, he can handle us here to home.
[ all heās got on the farm are working horses, mostly just good olā quarter horses. a different breed from this boy here and sundayāll see the difference later, the sturdy, thick bones on this one compared to the cow horses. would have been easy to bring another horse but he had an inkling sunday wouldnāt necessarily know his way around a horse.
he sets the luggage by their feet for a moment and grips the stirrup on their side, positioning it and demonstrating ā ]
Now, angel, you put a foot here and grip onto the saddle and Iāll give you a hand up.
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sunday's hesitation is interrupted by the little petname boothill offers, naturally sliding it into his sentence. is it meant to be a petname? an insult? it's awfully familiar, but they are practically engagedā
his cheeks warm slightly and he decides he should simply follow the instructions, his concerns shoved aside. ]
Of course. I trust you won't let me fall. [ he says it like a joke but he is putting a quite a bit of faith in boothill. it ends up being simpler than it looks, the horse remaining perfectly steady as sunday lifts himself with a foot, holding onto the saddle as instructed.
still, he reaches his other hand out to boothill for support and breathes a sigh of relief once he's seated on the horse. ]
Is this how you travel everywhere?
no subject
boothill helps bust him up and stay steady in the stirrups so he can swing his other leg around. sunday, for all his lackinā know-how, is graceful enough to find his seat easier than most. ]
Pretty much. Lot easier to chase down cows up here. [ noticing the relieved sigh, boothill canāt help but tease, finding himself grinning, ] Whatās that sighinā for? You got the whole ride ahead of you.
[ not that riding will be any worse than getting up ā boothill wouldnāt let anything happen to some nice guy that came all the way out here forā¦ hell, him. he doesnāt doubt thereās some other motivating factors there, but at the end of the day, itās gonna boil down to the two of them sharing a life. whatever ghosts sundayās got, boothillās ready for it.
he takes a moment to unhitch their horse before fastening up sundayās luggage to the saddle straps. then heās asking sunday to scoot back a bit, before he puts a foot in the stirrup and grabs the saddle horn and hoists himself up, taking a bit more care to settle with sunday there. ] You ready? I wonāt tell nobody if you wanna hold on.
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I assumed you weren't planning on performing any tricks during the ride home, [ he says simply, the light smile in his voice the only indication that he may be teasing back.
and hold on he does. there's only a slight hesitation as he finds where to place his hands, gripping boothill's waist softly before settling them lower down. he shifts forward, nervous about being too far back on the horse, until his hips slot against boothill's back. perhaps a little too close, but he doesn't want to push back and go tumbling down. ]
Yes, I'm ready. Is it like this? [ he asks just in case, tilting his head to the side so he doesn't get a mouthful of boothill's long hair. his grip only tightens as they start to move, still not quite comfortable. ]
I think... a full suit may not be the appropriate attire for horse riding. [ it's not helping any, that's for certain. he furrows his brow as he tries to remember if he has anything in his wardrobe suitable for this. ]
Would you believe that I didn't bring anything less formal?
no subject
admittedly, mostly his fault when itās happen. no temperamental stallion or half started colt, no wild riding to give their mount a startle.
boothillās on his best behavior. he still doesnāt tell sunday he could hold on a little looser. ]
Thatās just perfect, you hold on tight now, [ he says instead, reins in hand and a little heel pressure getting them going. sundayāll figure out soon enough that heās safe and heāll relax on his own. this old boy moseys on and other than the steady rock from the motion, it aināt nothing at all.
doesnāt stop the shocked bark of laughter when sunday brings up his suit situation. boothill turns his head quick to look back at him, disbelief and amusement all over his face. fortunately, his hair goes swinging the opposite way of sundayās face. ] No chance, youāre pulling my leg! Nothinā else?
[ the exact fucking opposite of boothill, who doesnāt think he has a full suit that even fits. he really does wonder what kind of life sunday was living to have a wardrobe of nothing but suits but ā he guesses thatās a proper thing to wear, working in a church. sunday best and all. ] You do look awful nice in āem. Now, I ā I look something ridiculous in a suitā¦
no subject
his shoulders bunch at the loud laughter whipped into his face by the wind. it's not as though he can blame boothill for finding it amusing, though. ] Well... that and sleepwear, of course. Unfortunately, I didn't have the time to shop for something more suitable to a ranch. I hoped there would be something available in town...
[ though he's barely seen any buildings at all in their trek. he recalls the last town he saw on the train was several stops back, but there must be something closer to boothill's ranch.
the compliment settles some anxiety in his chest, and he hums at boothill's self-conscious admission. ]
Oh? I doubt that's the case. [ he says with a smile, endeared. ] I find suits flattering on most people, but the key is to have them fitted properly. Anyone would look ridiculous in an ill-fitting suit.
[ there's a certain dread in his voice, like an ill-fitting suit is a common nightmare for him. ] Most tailors can handle that for you, though I've picked up some skills in case of emergencies. I can make sure your suit is fitted before the next church service, if you'll allow me.