damn bars - yellowstone boys
how the yellowstone (& 1923 too) boys react to you getting hit on at the bar
kayce, rip, ryan, carter, spencer
word count total: 5k
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kayce dutton:
you had gone out to the bar for one reason and one reason only: to dance.
you and kayce loved to dance, but you didn't get many opportunities to. so, when one night john took tate for a sleepover, winking at you as he pulled the boy away, you decided to get out there and swing away like you were teenagers again. you grabbed beth and rip to come too, knowing they'd appreciate getting out even if they didn't dance - would rip ever dance? probably not.
it was fun for the first little bit, all the good swing songs playing as he twirled you around the wooden dance floor. you pulled out old tricks he forgot you knew and he twisted and flipped you into cool routines you forgot he knew. when you decided to take a break, kayce heading to the bathroom while you ordered a drink, you just knew something was going to happen.
but, you ordered anyways, eyes on where beth was shaking her ass away to the fun country music playing and where rip was watching her with the fondest smile you'd ever seen from him.
the bartender slid you your drink. you smiled. "thank you."
he nodded at you, walking down the bar to attend to another customer as you leaned your back against the counter, eyes back to your sister-in-law.
"you've really been busting a move out there."
you turned to see a man, taller than you but definitely shorter than kayce, bigger, with a brown hat and black boots. he wasn't necessarily attractive and there was just something about him that made you want to scrunch your nose, so you did.
"yep," you hummed, sipping on your whiskey.
"you've only had the one partner. i'm sure i could show you some moves if you're looking for a new one," he said, glancing to the side as a smile pulled up one side of his mouth. "i don't see him here anymore."
"he'll be back," you told him, setting your drink down and looking him over again. "and even if i was looking for another partner, you don't look like much of a dancer, buddy."
he knitted his brows at that, looking down at you with a curious smirk on his lips. "spicy. i like that."
you wanted to throw up.
"don't call me that," you said. "that was gross."
"oh come on, darling," he said, shifting so he was more in your view. "just one dance? he'll never even know, he ain't here."
"he is." you held up your ring finger, flashing the rock that was your wedding band at him. "i ain't going with you buddy."
and that was when he grabbed you, hand on your hip as he pulled you into him. he smelled like bad beer, cheap cologne, and straight b.o. you instantly pushed away even as he held you tighter, speaking now: "one dance, baby. life is too short to only dance with one man the rest of it."
"life's too short to dance with ugly men," you retorted, scrunching your nose again as you finally, very forcefully pushed him away from you, backing towards where you knew rip was last standing. except he wasn't there.
you looked at the dance floor and your mind was blown. of course the one time rip wheeler decides to take to the dance floor was when you were actively being harassed at the bar.
the guy didn't like your answer and stepped towards you, mouth open to say something before another figure stepped in front of you, one you knew very well. especially since you'd picked out his shirt. you breathed a breath of relief as he glanced back at you, checking you were okay before returning a much more menacing gaze to your advancer.
"i don't know what you've said or done thus far, but the way my wife is lookin at you doesn't look very good for you," kayce said, his eyes turned in a glare as he stepped towards him.
"look, man, all i wanted was a dance, not anything more-"
"a dance is still too much to ask for, especially when she's already said no," kayce said sternly. "leave. now."
"what, like the whole-"
"i'd really love a reason to punch you and if you keep talking you're gonna be giving me one," kayce warned, but the guy didn't get it apparently because he kept going.
"hey, man i didn't do anything-"
kayce looked back at you. "he touch you?"
the moments between you nodding and kayce full on clocking the guy in the jaw went by in literally the blink of an eye. the man stumbled back and kayce swung again, effectively knocking him to the floor. he kicked him then, the man folding in half with a groan. kayce moved to do it again when you grabbed his arm.
"baby, let's just get out of here," you told him. "i don't need you getting in trouble."
"i'm the livestock commissioner, i'll be fine," he said.
"well, then, just..." you moved around him to where the dude was sprawled on the ground, looking up at your husband in fear as some blood tricked from a cut in his lip and also between his teeth. everyone in this town knew kayce dutton could throw a punch.
you stomped on his hand then, hard, earning a shout and an instant recoil. you could've sworn you felt a crunch under the heel of your boot when you did.
"so you can't grab any other girls anytime soon," you said before turning on your heel and grabbing your husband, who looked like he was chomping at the bit to get back to pummeling him. "c'mon, baby."
but, tonight was supposed to be fun. when you pulled him out the front door for some fresh air and maybe to bar hop, you thought to remind him of that. you turned to him with a smile, hand cupping his face just below his jaw. "c'mere, cowboy." you kissed him slowly, his hands falling to your waist almost instantly as he folded to your touch, returning the kiss eagerly.
when you pulled back, he kept you close, kissing you again.
"thank you," you breathed out when you finally broke again, smiling up at him. "i can always count on your mean right hook to get me out of any bad situation."
"i practice it just for that," he said quietly, pecking your lips again.
you laughed lightly. "seriously, thank you though," you said, wrapping your arms around his middle as you relaxed in his hold. "for saving me."
"i'll always save you," he promised, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "and i'm never going to the bathroom while we're out again."
rip wheeler:
to get rip to go out was a chore. it usually took some promising of later nightly activities and some chanting and begging from the wranglers too. and when you finally got him there, he wasn't exactly interactive, mostly just watching you dance and getting you the appropriate amount of refills to keep you semi-aware.
aware for situations like this.
you were dancing the night away with teeter, hands in the air as you laughed and jumped and twirled with your favorite of the cowboys, glancing up at rip regularly to shoot him a wink or shout something about how great his ass looked in those jeans, when suddenly you felt hands on your waist.
you spun around, brows shot straight up as you swatted this strange, tall and skinny man who oddly reminded you of a drugged out, dark haired jimmy, man away from you, stepping back and bumping into teeter. "damn you're ballsy, dude," you said. he stepped back to you, his hands landing on your waist again, fingers brushing over the waistband of your jeans as teeter grabbed your shoulders and helped you shuffle away. "seriously, get off!"
"hey, come back here, baby-"
it was instinctive, really. your father had taught you how to throw a proper punch and rip had taught you the best places to throw it, and well, the first one that came to mind was the throat.
he staggered back with a choked breath, hand rising to his jugular as he stared at you with wide eyes. "you crazy bitch!"
"did you seriously just call me the bitch?" you said, stepping towards him now with your hand balled into a fist.
but, before you could throw another punch and before the psycho dude could fully recover, rip was now in the picture. two extremely well-placed punches sent the creep into the surrounding crowd. no one did or said anything for a few moments, everyone having seen him grab you and insinuating exactly who rip was in this situation.
he turned back to you, grabbing your hand tightly and sending a look teeter's way that had her collecting the rest of the wranglers, who had all suddenly appeared at your side.
"let's go," he said strictly.
"can we go to another bar?" you asked as he dragged you out of the facility and towards the truck. he let out a short laugh.
"there's no way in hell i'm letting you back into another bar anytime soon," he said. "if another psychotic bastard thinks he can put his hands on you i can't promise that i wouldn't kill him right then. it took a lot of restraint not to keep going in there, baby."
"rip, come on, let's have fun tonight - woah!"
and suddenly you were thrown over his shoulder in a fireman carry. he barely even stopped to do it, just scooping you up and continuing on to where he'd parked the truck.
"nope," he said. "and anyways, there's other ways to have fun." he pulled the door open and set you on the passenger seat with a smirk. "you have a couple promises to fulfill for even dragging me here in the first place."
"damn," you mumbled as he gave you a quick kiss, shutting the door and crossing to the other side. as he got in and buckled, you looked over at him with a bit of a dopey smile on your lips. "have i told you i love you recently?"
"i'm sure you have, baby, but i'm happy to hear it again," he told you, smiling your way as he started the truck up.
"well, i do love you. and thank you. that sucked."
"and it ain't ever gonna happen again on my watch," he promised. "he really just snuck up on you there."
"literally crazy."
ryan:
you weren't much of a games girl, which everyone thought was weird given the man you were with. but, you were content to watch, to sit at the bar conversing with the wranglers who weren't involved in the game of pool or dancing, and to watch colby crash and burn as he approached girls again and again.
that last one was your favorite activity.
every now and again you would wander back over to where ryan was playing lloyd or jake, cheer him on, give him a quick kiss, and then return to the designated spot colby kept coming back to after another failed attempt at wooing a tourist.
the tourists were funny too. you could always tell which ones had just bought their hats and boots before or even while they were in montana just to blend in. some of the girls were wearing such california things you wondered if they were wanting to blend in at all, which the answer was no. colby, and plenty of other cowboys, liked the tourists. or at least, for a quick one.
you were watching him with a grin as he stumbled on his words with a pretty brunette, sipping on your drink casually. he was using his hands to emphasize something and she did not seem like she was interested in that something at all. you giggled to yourself.
"you like people watching?"
you glanced to your side to see a shorter man with spiky blond hair at your side. this guy didn't even take a try at a hat, sticking it with bright and shiny new black tecovas with a pointed toe and a snakeskin design that was so opposite of what you were used to.
you didn't think you'd ever been turned off more by a boot.
"yeah, i do," you nodded, looking back at where colby was actively losing his chosen girl's attention. "it's entertaining."
"it is," he agreed, taking the seat next to you. "you from around here?"
for some reason, you laughed. you guessed it was because he was so obviously not from here that for him to ask you if you were was just funny to you. "yep. you ever heard of the yellowstone dutton ranch?"
"it got anything to do with the park?" he asked.
you laughed again before taking a sip of your drink. "no. around here, when people talk about the yellowstone, they're talking about the 800,000 acre cattle ranch just outside of town owned by the livestock commissioner and the oldest family in montana."
he seemed shocked, but he tried to get through it, continuing his little q&a. "you're from there?"
"it's my family that owns it," you answered easily.
"and what's it like owning 800,000 acres of some of the most coveted land in america?" he asked, tilting his head at you. if you hadn't before, you definitely piqued his interest now.
you shrugged. "it's a lot of work, but it's worth it. it's beautiful."
"lonely, though, i bet," he said, and that made you laugh again. wow, he really tried that one.
"no, actually," you told him. "need a good amount of people to run that ranch. don't get too much time to yourself."
"do you want time to yourself?" he asked.
"i'm good with what i've got, thank you," you told him. you looked over at where ryan had caught sight of your predicament and was making his way over to you. you stood, shooting the man at your right a polite smile. "one of the cowboys we've got is particularly attractive. i'm entertained enough, don't you worry about me."
he saw ryan then and stood as well. "i wouldn't say he's particularly attractive. you could do better."
"are you suggesting yourself?" you asked with a laugh, holding an arm out to wrap around ryan's waist as he came to your side, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before eying the man in front of y'all. "sorry, pal. you may be decently cute, but you ain't no cowboy. if you're looking to get lucky in this town it'd do you good to remember that. shoot for your own kind."
the man looked up at ryan. "you her cowboy?"
"damn straight," ryan answered. "you better take that advice. a lot of the cowgirls you'll see around here anyways are taken, you're asking for a fight talking to 'em. you're just lucky she played nice. it's the only reason i am too." ryan nodded, tilting his hat at the man before stepping away and bringing you with him. "best of luck. just not with my girl."
he took you back to the pool table with him where lloyd was laughing at the sight of you. he pressed another kiss to your head.
"did you really have to call him cute?" he asked you.
"decently cute," you reminded with a shake of your head. "i called you particularly attractive, which is an understatement. i just didn't wanna shake the guy's confidence down too much. those boots are doin that enough for him."
ryan laughed. "damn tourists."
carter:
nearly everything carter did reminded beth of how rip was at that age. and nearly everything you did as you consistently visited reminded her of how she was at that age.
it had her worried and excited.
"don't break his heart," she told you one day, cornering you after lunch. "i've been there, i've done that, it's terrible for everyone involved. save yourself the trouble and just snag him now, you know you want him and he wants you. just date, okay? and don't be a bitch later."
the words shocked you, but definitely kicked you into gear. carter was shier than you ever were, awfully polite and gentlemanly as beth had trained him to be, and so you were the one to get him into going to the bar.
"will we even get served here?" he asked, holding your hand as you led him in.
"hell yeah we will," you answered, smiling back at him as you approached the bar. you were quick to pull out your id - a fake one, but one nonetheless - and slide it to the bartender. "an old fashioned please."
"what about me?" carter whispered.
you laughed lightly. "just get your id out, darlin'."
confused but obedient, he pulled out his wallet and was surprised to see a new driver's license in the clear slot he usually kept his in. one that said he was 21.
he held it up as he cleared his throat, catching the bartender's attention. "make that two." he looked back at you. "these any good?"
"i think so," you answered with a shrug. "you ever have bourbon before, or just beer?"
"just beer," he nodded.
"well, hopefully you'll like it," you said with a shrug. "i've seen your dad make them back at the ranch. i'm sure you'll like them."
"oh, he's not my dad," he corrected as the bartender slid them over to y'all.
you furrowed your brows. "really? you look exactly alike."
it was as he was taking his first swig of his drink that you felt someone slide between you and the person sitting next to you, their arm settling on the counter in front of you. you looked up, brows raised as you found a man, definitely in his late 30s, in a nicer shirt than this bar deserved, brand new boots, and what looked to be a cross between dress pants and jeans. interesting.
"can i help you?" you asked, his positioning crowding you into your seat even though you didn't move much. this was your bubble, he was the one who had to get out of it.
"just wondering if you had anyone paying for this drink," he said, his hand now on your whiskey as you narrowed your eyes.
carter moved sharply to stand, but settled when you set a hand on his knee, thumb rubbing circles into his jeans. you offered the guy a very thin, very fake smile.
"that's a nice shirt," you said, earning a wider smile from the man. "where'd you get it?" he almost went to answer, but you continued, your next few sentences stringing together in almost one breath.
"oh, well, i bet you don't know since your wife bought it for you. or - is it ex-wife, now? i don't see a ring, but i definitely see that faded tan line from it being there for years and recently taken off. probably because of a very similar situation we find ourselves in now. your wife is at home, with the kids, waiting for you to take her out to a dinner that will never happen because you're here, scoping out for the youngest woman you can find to sloppily sleep with in the back of your brand new honda civic that you convinced yourself and that girl was some new sports car because it's a 'newer model'."
already, he was in shock, staring at you with a scared kind of wonder that for some reason made you so proud.
you continued. "so, either you're here trying to do that again behind your wife's back, or she's already divorced you, which for her sake i hope is the case, because you seem like a pathetic piece of shit who blames his infidelity on being overworked and undersupported when really you're just a pedophiliac horndog who doesn't understand what the word 'no' means."
you took your drink back from him, taking a sip from it as you watched his expression change between shocked, offended, confused, and embarrassed.
"and yes," you added, "i do have someone to pay for my drink."
he gaped at you as you turned away from him, hand still on carter's knee as you grinned into your glass, sipping from it again. he glanced behind you at carter and you knew he wanted to exclaim how carter was a boy and he was a man, but didn't because he didn't know what else you would say.
"you psycho bitch," he muttered. "all i did was offer to pay for your drink."
"yeah, well i'm quite obviously young enough to be the daughter you had when you accidentally knocked up the drum major when you were a junior, so it's still kind of disgusting," you told him, rolling your eyes. "especially when it's so easy to see that the man i'm sitting next to is my boyfriend, or at the very least, someone else who is paying for my drink because we got them to us at the exact same time and my hand is on his knee. so fuck off, dickwad."
and he did, scoffing as he left. carter turned to look at you with wide eyes before he breathed out a laugh.
"you're my favorite person ever," he said. you smiled at him, shrugging lightly.
"i was trained by the best," you hummed.
he smiled at that before giving you a curious look, tilting his head at you. "so, i'm your boyfriend?"
"i'm hoping," you said, smiling back. "i mean, i really like you, and i think you like me. beth told me to get on with it already because why waste time, hence why we're here. i can call you my boyfriend, right?"
"yeah, yeah you can," he said, nodding as he breathed out a laugh.
you were beaming, maybe even blushing as you glanced away for a few moments before continuing conversation. "how's your drink?"
"surprisingly good," he answered. "you have good taste."
your smile softened a bit as you looked at him, nodding slowly. "yeah, i do." you finished your drink in one swig, setting the glass on the counter. "hey, do you wanna get out of here?"
"but, we just got here," he said, furrowing his brows.
"well, i just have this feeling more situations are going to arise that will either warrant me coming up with more speeches like that or you punching a guy square in the nose, and i'm not in the mood for either," you answered, standing and pulling your wallet from your bag.
"hey, no, i pay," he said. he tossed a ten and a twenty on the counter, his hand going to your lower back as he followed you out of the bar.
"hey carter?" you asked as he opened the passenger door to the truck, holding your hand to help you up. he smiled up at you.
"yeah?"
you reached forward, taking his face in your hand and pressing your lips to his gently. he froze for a minute, but stepped forward to reach you better and deepened the kiss as best he knew how, his hands on your waist as he pulled you closer to him.
when you pulled away, he was grinning, "damn."
spencer dutton:
when you and spencer left for africa, neither of you were fully prepared for the sheer amount of idiot tourists there would be, both on and off the safaris spencer went to go rescue.
most times, you accompanied him on his little adventures that were the hunts, him wanting to keep you close and you wanting to stay out of the city. but, for one fateful leopard chase, he'd told you to stay back at the lodge, which ended up being the right decision. you met back up with him in nairobi, where you'd stayed, and were sat at the bar waiting for him.
now, when a lady was without her man, other men noticed.
and the british men in africa noticed.
"no, thank you," you said with a polite smile as the tall, british man at your side told the bartender that he would pick up your tab. "i've got it taken care of."
"no, my lady, i insist," he said, helping himself to the seat at your side. he turned to the bartender then. "it'll be on mine. and i'll have a sidecar, please."
"a brandy man," you said, raising your brows as you sipped on your glass.
he chuckled, nodding as he then eyed your drink "yes. and... what it is you're drinking, ma'am?"
you smiled at him as you set your drink down. "whiskey."
"whiskey," he repeated. to say he was surprised would be an understatement, his brows raised so high they nearly touched his hairline. he didn't seem put off by it though, a smirk rising to his lips. "very american."
"well, i am american," you answered as you brought the amber drink back to your lips. "and so is my husband."
"and where is your husband?" he asked. there was a certain air to british people that made them seem as if they were always looking out for you and your wellbeing - he did not have it. his smile had shifted as he eyed you and your whiskey and his arm had somehow slid across the bar to nearly be touching yours.
"he's here," you told him, glancing over his shoulder in hopes that spencer would just appear out of the blue. "he's speaking with some coworkers currently."
"ah, a business man," he said with a gruff laugh.
"a hunter," you answered shortly.
his laugh cut short as he watched you with a hanging smirk, waiting for you to laugh and say instead that he was the viscount of hereford or something. but, you didn't. instead, you nodded, smiling as you set your glass against the counter once more.
"yes, he's an awfully good gunman," you continued. "grew up hunting in montana - where we're from. then, he went off to war. and, i mean, surely you've heard war stories about the american armies - they're intense. he learned a lot. it's definitely his area of expertise, shooting, so he does well here."
you felt a hand on your shoulder then, earning a quick check backwards. a smile tugged your lips up as spencer leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, his eyes on the man opposite you.
"you talking about me, darling?" he asked.
"yes, sir, i am," you hummed before turning to smile at the british man. "this is my husband, spencer dutton."
"i've heard about you," he stammered, brows knitted tightly as he stared at spencer. "you're the hunter, the one on the safaris who shoots the maneaters. the american."
"he's been hung up on the american thing," you mumbled to spencer, shooting him a sideways smile and shrug.
"yeah, i am american," spencer said with a bit of a huff. "had to clean up after y'all during the war, so i thought i might as well keep doing it here. just a bit more exotic, being in africa and all."
the guy didn't know really what to say, looking to you for help but you sure as hell weren't about to offer it. spencer's hand rubbed across the expanse of your shoulders, lingering on the exposed skin he could find.
"now, i appreciate you keeping my lady here safe while i was off, but it'd be good of you to move on now," he said, his brows raised as he eyed him.
"yes, of course sir," the guy answered, standing quickly. he looked to you, offering a tight smile as he nodded. "ma'am."
you nodded in return, an amused smile growing on your lips as you turned back to spencer. "it's about time you showed up. i thought you got eaten by that leopard."
"two leopards, actually," he said with a sigh as he sat on the chair next to you. he smiled when he met your eyes, reaching forward to grab the seat of the chair beneath your legs and pulling it towards him, the legs making a dull screeching sound before he stopped you in front of him. "i missed you."
"i missed you too," you answered, smiling as you reached a hand up to cup his jaw and bring his mouth to yours. he was happy to oblige, his hands on your waist as he tugged you to the edge of your seat.
"you're not leaving my sight for a while, baby," he mumbled as he kissed you again.
you laughed, shaking your head when you pulled back. "i reckon we should probably get back to our room then, hun. i wanna hear all about your hunt."
"i got hit on," he told you with a shrug, his grin growing as you raised a brow.
"serious?" you wondered as he stood, taking your hand and stepping back to let you out from between the bar.
"i'll tell you about it in our room," he said with a hum. you held up a hand as you began walking to the door.
"i don't wanna hear it," you said with a shake of your head. "i mean, she was probably right for thinking it-"
"they."
"they?"
"they."
"they were probably right for thinking it, but those things they were likely dreaming up about your cute face? that's my reality, baby. and i'mma make you say a lot of things that have nothing to do with those other ladies."
he laughed thinly, squeezing your hand as you pulled him out into the night air and down towards your hotel. his steps quickened as he moved close behind you, a certain urgency in his tone as he mumbled in your ear. "you never fail to, baby."
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