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ajremixTitle: Left in the Dust
Fandom: DCU
Rating: PG-13 for non-explicit sex
Word Count: 794
Characters: Ted, Booster
In Response to: 30 days of Boostle - farewell
Summary: Justice Riders Elseworlds. In the end, all the Justice Riders went their separate ways.
They parted way one by one after it was all over, the Kid heading south immediately, Jones leaving some time in the night. Days later, Katar flew northward to rejoin his tribe and the next day Miss Prince took her captive and bid her last two riding companions farewell. Ted didn't know why Gold followed him to Diablo Wells, but he was grateful for the company enough to offer Gold a free place to sleep so he could get a fresh start in the morning.
That one night turned into two more when their travels caught up to them and the strain of firing a gatling gun attached to his chest made it difficult for Gold to move. Which was fine, because Ted hadn't ridden an actual horse for a while and found himself limping stiffly for a while. It gave the two of them an excuse to talk, though- unable to do much else after their sore bodies failed on them. They had plenty of time to talk before, of course, but all the conversation among the Justice Riders had mainly been on what they may expect, what little they knew of the situation as well as Ted explaining the basic mechanics of the clockwork shooters, his gatling gun and steam schooner to those that bothered to listen- which was very few. Miss Prince was both polite and curious and Gold had been interested in the gatling gun, but neither could keep up for long. Jones was sharp, though, and seemed to know as much about engineering than Ted did (there was probably a lesson on not judging a book by it's cover, but Ted wasn't in a position to question appearances as it was). But this was different- the two talked about anything for no other purpose than the fact both liked to talk and they liked having someone to talk to. It seemed to Ted that he'd found something he hadn't realized he'd been missing for so long- a friend.
He told Gold about the marvels at the Paris Exposition, about how he left home because his father and uncle argued so much over him that neither bothered to ask what he wanted and explained where the 'Beetle' name came from which had Gold laughing so hard he started coughing on the dry desert air. Gold, in turn, told how he came to leave Mississippi, his mother and sister he left there and how his (in his words) over exaggerated reputation as a grifter kept him from getting work as a hired hand. Talking with Gold made Ted realize that he was hurting for a friend just as much. That was why, when Gold said he should be going on his way, Ted told him, "You're always welcome to stay here, friend."
Gold just looked at him, long and quiet like some half-tamed stallion trying to decide if Ted was a predator or not. Then, for reasons Ted couldn't think of, in a blur of time he couldn't clearly recall, Gold was kissing him hard and desperate and Ted was kissing him back. Hands pulled at his suspenders, his shirt, hot against bare skin in the cold night. Something dropped heavily to the ground and hands were in Ted's hair, lips and tongue against his chin, running down his neck and Ted found his own hands pushing Gold's shirt from his arms, clutching the hard muscle of his back. They rutted together in the dark, fumbling, gasping, cursing as pleasure coursed through their bones and Ted was sure to have bruises in no respectable areas but it wasn't enough- not nearly enough. He bit down on Gold's shoulder until he yelped, wrapped his legs tight around Gold's waist and rode the both of them out until the night turned to white and his blood burned hot and he spilled across Gold in a mess of weak limbs and ragged breathing. Ted drifted somewhere between dreams and awake, the fleeting touch of hands intimate along his body and kisses both desperate and sweet on his face. He could have sworn he heard Gold say something but couldn't recall what, but he almost, almost remembered grabbing Gold's hand and telling him stay before sleep claimed him.
When Ted awoke the next day he knew in the core of his heart that Gold was gone and that hurt more than any explosion, any days of horse riding, any beating ever could. He lay in his bed all day, ignoring the way the sun crept across his floorboards and the procession of life outside his window.
The next morning Ted was back in his shop, putting the Beetle 17 in a storage case and piling junk upon it so he'd never look upon it again.
Fandom: DCU
Rating: PG-13 for non-explicit sex
Word Count: 794
Characters: Ted, Booster
In Response to: 30 days of Boostle - farewell
Summary: Justice Riders Elseworlds. In the end, all the Justice Riders went their separate ways.
They parted way one by one after it was all over, the Kid heading south immediately, Jones leaving some time in the night. Days later, Katar flew northward to rejoin his tribe and the next day Miss Prince took her captive and bid her last two riding companions farewell. Ted didn't know why Gold followed him to Diablo Wells, but he was grateful for the company enough to offer Gold a free place to sleep so he could get a fresh start in the morning.
That one night turned into two more when their travels caught up to them and the strain of firing a gatling gun attached to his chest made it difficult for Gold to move. Which was fine, because Ted hadn't ridden an actual horse for a while and found himself limping stiffly for a while. It gave the two of them an excuse to talk, though- unable to do much else after their sore bodies failed on them. They had plenty of time to talk before, of course, but all the conversation among the Justice Riders had mainly been on what they may expect, what little they knew of the situation as well as Ted explaining the basic mechanics of the clockwork shooters, his gatling gun and steam schooner to those that bothered to listen- which was very few. Miss Prince was both polite and curious and Gold had been interested in the gatling gun, but neither could keep up for long. Jones was sharp, though, and seemed to know as much about engineering than Ted did (there was probably a lesson on not judging a book by it's cover, but Ted wasn't in a position to question appearances as it was). But this was different- the two talked about anything for no other purpose than the fact both liked to talk and they liked having someone to talk to. It seemed to Ted that he'd found something he hadn't realized he'd been missing for so long- a friend.
He told Gold about the marvels at the Paris Exposition, about how he left home because his father and uncle argued so much over him that neither bothered to ask what he wanted and explained where the 'Beetle' name came from which had Gold laughing so hard he started coughing on the dry desert air. Gold, in turn, told how he came to leave Mississippi, his mother and sister he left there and how his (in his words) over exaggerated reputation as a grifter kept him from getting work as a hired hand. Talking with Gold made Ted realize that he was hurting for a friend just as much. That was why, when Gold said he should be going on his way, Ted told him, "You're always welcome to stay here, friend."
Gold just looked at him, long and quiet like some half-tamed stallion trying to decide if Ted was a predator or not. Then, for reasons Ted couldn't think of, in a blur of time he couldn't clearly recall, Gold was kissing him hard and desperate and Ted was kissing him back. Hands pulled at his suspenders, his shirt, hot against bare skin in the cold night. Something dropped heavily to the ground and hands were in Ted's hair, lips and tongue against his chin, running down his neck and Ted found his own hands pushing Gold's shirt from his arms, clutching the hard muscle of his back. They rutted together in the dark, fumbling, gasping, cursing as pleasure coursed through their bones and Ted was sure to have bruises in no respectable areas but it wasn't enough- not nearly enough. He bit down on Gold's shoulder until he yelped, wrapped his legs tight around Gold's waist and rode the both of them out until the night turned to white and his blood burned hot and he spilled across Gold in a mess of weak limbs and ragged breathing. Ted drifted somewhere between dreams and awake, the fleeting touch of hands intimate along his body and kisses both desperate and sweet on his face. He could have sworn he heard Gold say something but couldn't recall what, but he almost, almost remembered grabbing Gold's hand and telling him stay before sleep claimed him.
When Ted awoke the next day he knew in the core of his heart that Gold was gone and that hurt more than any explosion, any days of horse riding, any beating ever could. He lay in his bed all day, ignoring the way the sun crept across his floorboards and the procession of life outside his window.
The next morning Ted was back in his shop, putting the Beetle 17 in a storage case and piling junk upon it so he'd never look upon it again.
