oh! i actually started and promptly abandoned a fic that would be perfect for this.
it's a wild west setting, buck and tommy had a brief fling years ago back east, but tommy was a lawman on his way out west and thought buck had a chance at something like a normal life so he left him with a letter.
now, out west, tommy's scrounging up a living as a lonely, cynical bounty hunter, hoping for one last big score so he can go back east and hang up his spurs, so he's on the trail of notorious outlaw william "billy boils" mccurdy except, oh no! billy has an accomplice. a very familiar accomplice who tommy never thought he'd see again.
idk, i think i intended for this to end in a sorta semi-poly semi-outlaw situation but basically, i'm taking this title very literally and proposing outlaw/lawman doomed romance (except they make it work and settle down on a little parcel of land because you know i'm a sucker for a happy ending)
Bucktommyboils + give me a minute to catch my breath.
Thank you, James, my number one BTBoils partner in crime 🫡
This one got a lil longer, cause I can't resist Boilsposting it seems. So yeah, some BuckTommy/Billy Boils Cowboy Era AU yeehaw
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The stream is a godsend.
Tommy knew he was giving up plenty, agreeing to come out here with Billy and Evan with little more than the shirts on their backs and their horses, but it didn't mean he had to be happy about it.
On the harder nights, when Tommy's ass aches from all day in the saddle, covered in dust, skin parched and burnt from the sun and longing for his nice, clean bed back home, Tommy almost regrets it. Thinks he should have said no if not for the overwhelming knowledge that if he let Billy and Evan walk out that door without him, they very likely were never coming back. At least not all in one piece.
But then there are days like this.
Evan lets out a yip, barely off his horse and out of his boots with a splash before Tommy and Billy can blink. Billy is more cautious; he checks the banks, sets his gun belt and knife well within reach of the shore before finally kicking his own boots to dip his toes into the cool water.
Tommy takes his time too, idling near the horses under the pretense of checking them over even though they're more than content with the patch of green grass near the bank to need much from Tommy. It gives him some much needed distance from the other two. To observe. To think.
The tension between the three of them coils tight around Tommy's neck like a noose. Billy's eyes on Tommy when he watches Evan, hot like coals over the camp fire over late nights. The heat of Evan's body next to his when they sleep. The fact that Tommy's here at all. Billy's selective with his crew, Tommy knows that. It's significant that they want him around at all, let alone apart of whatever strange dance they're pulling him into along with them.
Tommy mulls it over, the heated looks, the whispered conversations late at night. This damned trip together across the desert.
Tommy really should know better than to turn his back on Billy Boils and Evan Buckley though.
A splash is the only warning Tommy gets before he feels wet arms wrap around his chest.
"Evan- Evan do not!" Tommy bucks in Evan's grip, feels more than hears the way Evan laughs as Tommy's hauled bodily off his feet against Evan's chest and back towards the water. Billy moves in quick and grabs his legs.
They work with startling efficiency to divest Tommy of his boots and belt and Tommy tries not to let his face colour as Evan barely has to work his hand to unbuckle Tommy's belt from behind.
The heat is short lived at least, once Tommy is unceremoniously dumped into the stream, the pair of them cackling the whole way down the bank. Tommy has a few moments of peace in the quiet rush under the water to ponder leaving them both for dead in this godforsaken desert before he surfaces again to Evan's grinning face, his big wet hands pressing on his shoulders to keep himself up on the slippery stream bed under foot, Billy's wet body pressed up behind him, holding them both up.
"Your face," Evan breathes, water dripping from damp curls, dripping and running down the bright apples of his cheeks to collect in the dimples there as he laughs again.
"Buck thought you looked like you needed a dip," Billy says and Tommy doesn't even need to look at him to hear the amusement, though he frowns at the wordless look Evan throws over his head at Billy.
"Oh well thank you for speeding things along then," Tommy says, though his annoyance falters as Evan presses in closer, pushing Tommy further back against the bulk of Billy behind him.
"Okay, okay," Evan says, doing his best to sober. His hands come to rest on Tommy's chest, stilling Tommy entirely. "Give me a minute to catch my breath." Water collects on Evan's lashes as he glances coyly at Tommy from under them, ducking his head, face flushed with mirth. It's a look he's seen Evan use on girls in the saloon. Used on Billy in those quiet moments where Tommy pretends not to see.
Billy is less subtle, always straight forward when it comes to the things he wants, and Tommy jumps when he feels lips on his neck, the brush and prickle of his mustache against Tommy's skin.
"Billy-" Tommy barely has time to breathe his name before Evan leans forward. His lips are cold from the water around it, a stark contrast to how Tommy feels like he's burning up from the inside. Two pairs of hands slide along Tommy's shoulders, against his jaw, river water a cold shock where Tommy's body wants to overheat as Evan works his mouth against his own.
The touch of them, both of them, mouths and tongues hot and wet, feels like the first drop of water to a dying man. A man lost in the desert.
Tommy groans into the kiss, pulling them both tighter against him. Feels the way Billy grins against his skin, Evan's triumphant smile against his lips. He'd gladly let them both pull him under.
Written for the @911-rarepair-bingo prompt: “This isn’t what it looks like!”
Contains accidental voyeurism
Summary:
Cowboy au
The whispering stopped and Billy could hear them kissing. He tried to ignore it so he could get some sleep, but it was hard when he couldn’t stop picturing himself in the middle of them, trading kisses between them.
playlist prompt: bucktommyboils yearning in the old west 🤠🥔🖤
yeeehaw babeyyy! enjoy some yearnin' for all your staring-out-across-the-prairie bucktommyboils needs.
tracklist
1. Roses Are Falling - Orville Peck
2. Dust Bowl III - Other Lives
3. Wild & Unwise - Findlay
4. If I Didn't Know Better - The Civil Wars
5. You Look Like Trouble (But I Guess I Do Too) - Lisa LeBlanc
6. Dark Rooms - Annie Eve
7. Wolf Like Me - Lera Lynn ft. Shovels & Rope
8. West (Acoustic) - Thunderpussy
9. Dusk Till Dawn - Louise Burns
10. I'm Gonna Miss You When You Go - Marty Robbins
11. Cowboys Are Frequently Secretly Fond Of Each Other - Willie Nelson & Orville Peck
12. I Can't Shake the Stranger Out of You - Lavender Country
13. Stray Dog - Amigo the Devil
14. Powder Blue - The Cactus Blossoms
15. Dead of Night - Orville Peck
16. A Little Fire - Parker Millsap
-> send me a vibe or a prompt and I’ll build a short playlist for it <-
oh she's a chatty bitch today, huh? here's ~650 words of western au with hints of bucktommyboils that literally no one asked for but i just had to get out lmao
Billy Boils is a sonofabitch who's managed to avoid the noose more than a coupla times. Mean enough to steal the coins off a dead man's eyes, he's wily and brutal and smarter than most of the two bit lowlifes Tommy hunts down to make his living. Normally, he'd be a grim and cunning enough prospect that Tommy would avoid him altogether.
But lately he's been feelin' every year of his age, aching in places that didn't used to ache and all in all, he's tired. In his bones, he's tired. And McCurdy has a hefty enough bounty on his head that Tommy will be able to hand him over and head back east and—well, no point longin' for impossible things, but he'll settle down at least, slide his way on into a quiet life, hang up his guns and his spurs, maybe some day even finally get the last of the dust scrubbed out of his skin and his hair.
Tommy's been tracking down McCurdy for weeks now, following word of his exploits from towns to ranches and back again and now he finally has eyes on the vicious old sidewinder, the man has company. Tommy wasn't expecting thay. It complicates things, and Tommy is not a man who appreciates complications, even if he can deal with them more often than he can't.
The man with McCurdy is tall, wears his hat tilted low so his face is all in shadow, and he rides or walks along at McCurdy's side every place the bastard goes, like he's a damn guard dog or somethin'. There's somethin' familiar in the man's frame, the way he holds himself, but that's not Tommy's problem. All he needs to do is wait for the right moment.
It comes when the two of them are preparing to leave the town he tracked them to the night before. A rum-hole, a tack shop and a whorehouse is maybe an over generous use of the word town but that's all the better for Tommy's purposes. Fewer chances of interference, easier to keep eyes on McCurdy if he tries to run instead of fighting.
McCurdy and his companion are saddling up their horses in the pale light of dawn and Tommy's wonderin' if he might have to let them go free another day when there's a low murmur of conversation, barely audible from where he's tucked around side of the saloon. The other fella, that damn hat pulled low still, walks away from McCurdy and towards the workhouse.
Gotcha, Tommy thinks, and waits to hear the sound of the other man's footsteps fade away. He steps out into the street with his gun already locked and trained on McCurdy.
"William James McCurdy," he calls out. "You come quiet now, you hear?"
Instead, McCurdy throws himself to the ground behind a horse trough and lets out a piercing whistle.
Tommy swears under his breath and makes a split second call to sprint towards McCurdy rather than waste anymore time. Before he can get close enough to disarming the outlaw though, a shot rings out, whistles by so close Tommy can almost feel it.
McCurdy's pal comes running out of the whorehouse, that damn hat forgotten for once, yelling Billy, Billy!
That voice—why Tommy's a little amazed that after all these years that voice is still more familiar to himself than howl of coyotes or the sound of a horse's hooves, or hell, even his own damn voice.
"Evan?"
"Tommy?" Evan skids to a halt at the sight of him, but his gun doesn't waver.
"Buck!" McCurdy yells from behind his damn horse trough. "Lawman! Shoot!"
Evan's older, bigger, more weathered, but those pretty blue eyes of his that were Tommy's downfall all those years ago are still just the same. They widen as they stay fixed right on him, and Tommy wonders: will he shoot?
tagging @exhaustedpirate and @trombonechurchill because they are enablers and i love them ever so
Instructions unclear, wrote 700 words of... not really nonsexual intimacy crackship AU oops.
Have some of my darling BuckTommyBoils (yes that boils) cowboy AU
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Buck had wondered once, how the cattle felt. To be branded. Now, white hot poker in his stomach, searing, burning, ripping through his body like his very blood was being boiled inside his body, Buck had a surge of sympathy for them.
The world was narrowed down to that, heat and blood and tearing pain so bright behind his eyes Buck could barely see around the black edges of his vision. Pain and the sharp bark of Billy's voice as he kicked through the saloon doors. And it had to be the saloon, because Buck would recognize Tommy's voice anywhere.
"McCurdy, Jesus, what-" Oh, Billy was 'McCurdy' today. They were in trouble then, Buck thought listlessly, head flopping uselessly on his shoulders like a flag in the wind as Billy dragged him further into the cool dark of indoors. Buck could smell the rise of sawdust and hops as their feet clatterd on the uneven planks of the floor, his own more a drag than steps as Billy hurled him towards the sound of Tommy's voice.
"Gut shot, he's bleeding like a stuck pig, help me get him up." Billy's voice was gruff, harder than usual and for a moment the horrible feeling of upsetting him cut through his stomach tighter than the roiling pain of the bullet currently lodged there, at least until he felt Tommy's hands on him and they both yanked him up and along the bartop. Tommy'll be so disappointed if Buck bled out on his nice clean bartop, Buck thought distantly, trying desperately to bite back a scream between his teeth as he was moved.
"Sorry," he managed through pain grit teeth. Tommy was touchy about his bartop, had kicked them both out for less before. Buck didn't want to ruin it.
"Don't make it a habit of getting yourself shot up, Evan, and you're forgiven," Tommy said, a flutter of sensation that might have been Tommy's palm on his face before it receded.
Buck could see the shape of them both through his lashes, not sure when he'd closed his eyes but now fighting to keep them open. The heat in his gut felt like it was pulsing outwards, fire spreading outwards to his fingertips, his toes, which scrabbled and twitched uselessly on the bartop as Tommy rolled up his sleeves.
"What- What does he need, you were a soldier-" Billy's voice was tight in his throat, tense in the way he gets on the verge of loosing his temper but Buck couldn't see his face, hat pulled low and tight on his head. That would upset Tommy too; Billy always took of his hat in Tommy's bar unless he was trying to rile him up on purpose. Buck wished he could see his face.
"Pack the wound, we need to stop the bleeding," Tommy said from somewhere over Buck's head. "Disinfectant, bromine, if we can swing it, a prayer if we can't."
"Doc'll have some-" Billy started, pushing away from the bar.
"Doc'll shoot you on sight and then I'll have two of you bleeding over anything."
"Then I'll shoot him first, I'm not letting anything- I'm not letting Buck-" Billy let out a sharp noise, a sound a horse made before it started kicking, and smacked a palm on the countertop. Buck tried not to flinch.
"Billy. William." Tommy's voice was soft, enough so Buck nearly lost it to the haze of whitehotheatsearing ripping its way through him, sound washing in and out like he was ducking his head under water. Tommy grabbed Billy's sleeve. Buck still couldn't see his face.
"I'll get the fucking bromine. Don't go anywhere, Buck," Billy said, tugging the brim of his hat lower. His hand was hot when it landed on Buck's thigh. Buck wasn't sure when his legs had gotten so cold. Felt colder as Billy pushed away, shoulders rigid as he stalked out of Buck's view.
"Where would I go?" Buck managed, head rolling on the wood under him as he tried to catch sight of Tommy.
"Nowhere," Tommy said, voice soft again despite the grim look on his face. Buck didn't like it, reaching up with a shaking hand to press his thumb at the lines creasing between Tommy's eyes. Frowning at the flash of blood he left smeared there.
"Okay, nowhere," he agreed, hand dropping heavy to the bartop.
♔ : Finding the other wearing their clothes for BuckTommyBoils ;)
-3min17sec
I was going to sleep but instead here's 1/3 of bucktommyboils cowboy au clothes sharing prompts at 2am heheheh
@3min17sec
Tommy is a man of habit. He has his routine, his space, his creature comforts. He likes his coffee in the morning, he likes being warm at night and comfortable during the day. He likes sleeping in a bed and being able to bathe on a regular schedule.
And he does not, no matter how much time Evan spends pointing out the stars overhead, like sleeping in the dirt without a roof over his head.
The crackle of the fire does little to banish the cold of the desert night around them and Tommy huffs, tucking himself further and further into the collar of his coat, squeezing his eyes tight as if he could simply blink the wretched evening away and awake at their destination already.
He should have just let Evan and Billy go on their own like they'd insisted. If they got themselves shot or dead it'd serve them right for dragging Tommy out into the freezing wilderness, he thinks mulishly. The peace of mind isn't worth the thinness of his bedroll.
"He keeps going on like that and huffing like an old warhorse and I'm going to saddle him and ride him the rest of the way to Clover Valley. Would save the actual horses." Billy's voice carries over the pop and snap of the fire and Tommy makes another pointed huff, rolling over in a vane attempt to ignore him and the sound of Evan choking back a laugh from nearby.
"Go easy on him, the cold hurts his old bones," Evan says, edge of his voice softened with a fondness Tommy knows makes both him and Billy skittish. A bleeding heart in this part of the world is an easy target but Evan wears his proudly.
Despite the chill and the sour company, Tommy still manages to drift off, the sound of Evan and Billy's voices washing over him on the tides of the wind in the desert around him. When he wakes, Tommy is warm, fire long burned down to embers, head pillowed and something heavy and smelling decidedly of horse draped over his shoulders.
Tommy takes a moment to orient himself, his pillow shifting slightly with a groan as Tommy rolls his head. Ah. Evan. Tommy's curled half in his lap, Evan himself slumped against his saddle, hat pulled low over his head to block out the blush of first light painted overhead.
As for Tommy's newly acquired blanket, he recognizes the dark coat all too well, shoulders and shined buttons all too familiar on Billy's frame whenever he darkens Tommy's doorstep with more trouble than he's worth. Tommy should give it back soon, should get up and help water the horses and get them moving so they can get off this blasted trail and back somewhere civilized. But he's warm, and safe for the moment, so maybe a few minutes more couldn't hurt.
Written for the @rarepairs-of-911 Cards Against Humanity event day one prompt: What makes life worth living?
Read on AO3 or continue below
Tommy stopped his horse upon returning to their temporary camp, smiling softly down at the two men curled around each other next to the dying fire. He didn’t dismount right away, content to just soak up the sight of two people he loved most in the world as they slept.
Evan got cold easily, which generally meant he was sandwiched between the two of them or if one of them was gone, the other was sprawled out over him like a blanket, as Billy was right now. It was an adorable sight and it warmed his heart to see how much love was evident between Evan and Billy even as they slept with the way they were holding onto each other and the smile he could see on Evan’s lips. He couldn’t see Billy’s face, the man having tucked it into Evan’s neck, but the rest of his body language showed his love and care for the other man.
Quietly, he dismounted and tied his horse up with the other two before giving the fire a quick stoke, watching Evan start to shiver a little less. He set his hat down and lay beside them on the three bedrolls they had smooshed together to be able to fit them all.
Evan gave a content sigh in his sleep, face turning towards Tommy and one hand slipping out from under Billy’s coat, reaching for him. Tommy shuffled himself so he was curled up against them, taking Evan’s hand in his and holding it against his chest. Evan gave another content sigh, but didn’t wake up.
Billy however lifted his head up, eyes blinking slowly at Tommy. Tommy smiled at him and reached out to him with his free hand, fingers tracing along the shell of his ear and down his strong jawline.
“You’re back,” Billy whispered, voice sleepy and slow.
Tommy nodded. “Later than I wanted to be unfortunately.”
Billy closed his eyes again. “You’re here though. Did you find what you were looking for?”
“I did,” Tommy answered, hand slipping down to rest on Billy’s arm. “I’ll tell you both in the morning. Right now, I just need this.”
Billy nodded, already half way back to falling asleep. “We need you too,” Billy mumbled, settling to lay his head on Evan’s chest, letting out a soft snore as he slipped back into dreamland.
Tommy just smiled, pressing a soft kiss to Evan’s cheek and then Billy’s before laying back to just take them in.
Just a year ago, he had been in a loveless engagement with a woman who had deserved the world while he only ever lied and snuck off with the ranch hands. Then Evan came into his life and Billy shortly after.
Running away with them made his life much more dangerous than before, but it made him feel alive and loved and he cherished every second of it, cherished and loved them, and would continue to do so until his dying breath.
