Bad Company - 1. Bad Company

"Don't take another step, Comp." The low warning didn't even make him pause as his boots crunched over the dirt. Even the whirr of the laser rifle cocking hardly made him pause, "I mean it Comp!"

He sighed and finally stopped, "How long are we gonna do this, Fletch?" He asked, not turning around to view his attacker.

"Drop it and turn around, slow like, with your hands up."

He looked down at the flowers he'd brought, and up at the crude, much-battered stone in front of him, the only one, in this forgotten stretch of bland desert. "Fletch, really, you gonna shoot a man in mourning?"

They stood in stalemate for some time until he heard the hiss of the weapon being locked and a growl of frustration. "Comp, you drive me to drink."

"Better than some other past times." He said coolly, letting his trench coat fall back over his slug-throwers. He looked sideways as the other stepped up next to him, the moon serving as their single, lonely observer, casting the dirt around them in blue repose and reflecting off the atomic glass that covered the distant hills.

They were silent there, for some time, "Every year you come here."

"Every year you come here."

Fletch shot him a sideways look.

"And every year you have the pretense of taking me in and you never do." Comp continued moving to the marker and set the flowers down, brushing away the dust as he sat down with a sigh as Fletcher moved up to stand in front of him, blocking the moonlight. He looked up as blue eyes stared down.

"Goddamnit Comp, you make me come undone." Fletch cursed and Comp couldn't help the smirk that moved over his face.

"When did it become like this, do you suppose?" He asked.

Fletch looked sideways, "I don't know. … years ago."

"Well yeah,… ten years?… We've been going like this… this cat and mouse, Fletch, when do you suppose you're gonna tire?"

"Comp…" A pained look crossed the other's face and he pulled the hat off his head, and finally gave up, he sagged as Comp rolled onto his knees and his hands ran up the thighs of the other's pants. There was so much unspoken between them, but...

"I know Fletch…" He breathed, nuzzling the ties that held them in place. His nose lifted the shirt and he found the other's abdomen, placing a kiss on his navel before one hand reached up and undid the other's pants.

"You're such bad company…" Fletch said, his breath hardly a whisper between his soft panting.

"Hm." He couldn't help the wry smirk, "You know me. Shoot first, run like hell." He pulled the other's pants down a little and Fletch's cock sprung free, "How long have you been holding that down?" He asked as the other's eagerness was made apparent.

Fletch wouldn't look him in the eye, but his hands tangled in his hair and pulled him closer. Soon enough Comp had a mouthful of the other and he took it with eagerness, swallowing him to the root as Fletch moaned loudly, his hand tightening in Comp's hair. He felt the other's hips buck into his mouth as he pulled back, his hand rising and stroking what of the shaft his mouth did not have.

His tongue darted out and he looked up at Fletch, lost to his touch, his eyes were closed and his hat fell to the ground unheeded. His head was back and his mouth slightly opened as Comp nibbled slightly, just to watch Fletch's breath hitch. He hummed softly around the other as he sunk back down onto him, and Fletch bucked with a gasp and Comp tasted bitter seed across his tongue.

He pulled away licking his lips, grinning a touch, "Am I that good?" He asked, "Or has it been that long?"

Fletch braced his hands on Comp's shoulders, his knees trembling, "N… Not since… Last time…." He breathed as Comp raised his hands and embraced his wrists.

"So long, Fletcher, goodness, I would have thought someone would have had their way with you…" He whispered.

Fletch didn't answer as he let his knees buckle and they were face to face, and Comp stared at the other with a little smirk, until Fletch turned away.

Comp sighed quietly, "You're still that kid I met twelve years ago, tagging along with that sheriff. Wide-eyed little deputy I spoiled."

Fletch half-heartedly punched his shoulder, "Why's it always gotta be this way with us Comp?" He asked, leaning forward on him, his arms wrapping around Comp's neck.

"Cause I ain't a good man. Cause… I already chose my path. And you yours." He said, his jaw setting, as he looked at the other, "Cause I'm a bad, bad man."

"Not a bad man." Fletcher protested quietly, "A good man with bad habits. Come home with me." It was a lost cause though.

Comp sighed, he seemed to be doing that a lot today, "Maybe thirty years ago, before this hell, before our paths, in another life, maybe. You know it, an' I know it." He stared at Fletchers face for a bit, as always with him, he felt tired, and old. "Sometimes… I wish otherwise."

"You were a good man, you used to…"

"Now I'm a deserter, and I won' go back. Not now, not ever. You know better, I was born with a gun in hand, and you know better than to ask of me to let it go." He leaned forward with a harsh kiss, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Fletch moaned again, lost in Comp's touch hunger again, as the outlaw pulled his pants from him and tossed them aside, descending upon him hungrily.

-

Comp curled around Fletcher protectively, as the moon set, slowly, behind glass covered hills and the sky became its darkest. His fingers played over the other's abdomen, painted with their cumulative efforts as he teased him playfully.

"Comp."

"Mmm?"

"… Nothing." Fletch said after a bit and settled back into the other's embrace.

Comp didn't push it, just remained entangled with the other, wishing the night to last forever, until the metallic whinny of his steed made his head raise to the steel and flesh creature he rode. It trotted to him, an alert, someone was here.

"Comp," Fletch raised his head and sat up, scrambling for his pants to yank them on, as Comp did the same, straightening himself out as a group of riders could be heard in the distance as the night began to lighten.

"I need to go." He said, turning to Fletch, "I…"

"I know, me too." He murmured, leaning up and kissing him as the sun broke horizon.

Comp seized his ride's reigns and mounted up as Fletch ran for his own ride.

A group of bounty hunters crested the rise and Comp chuckled lowly, he'd see Fletcher again, soon enough as he dug his heels into the horses' sides and they were off like a shot into the desert, kicking dirt over the empty marker.

The stone was blank, and the grave beneath empty, it had always been so, for as long as Comp had come. And for all that Fletch had followed, Comp never found it in him to tell his lover.