Polo and Dreameh's VERY short RP. For real this time. (Mature)

"Ready." Sloan replied, flashing Dane a brief smile as he shifted in his seat, and started the engine.
Soon enough they were on the road, and after a while of quiet driving, they arrived at Mike's racing stables. The trainer was away at a race, but had left all the horses' passports out for Sloan, so he collected them, and slipped them into the Jeep's cubbyhole.
Then it was time for the horses.

The grey mare and the gelding loaded easily, and stood placidly in the trailer while Sloan considered his new horse, which had been circling its stable like a predator since it had seen them arrive.
"I think we should back the trailer up to his stall." Sloan decided gravely, "I doubt I can lead that horse into a trailer. Better to let him load himself..."
He stared at the horse a moment, then shook off his thoughts, and climbed back into the Jeep. He reversed the trailer to just in front of the stallion's door, then stopped it and got out.
The horse was throwing himself around the stable by this point - hooves crashing against stone, and angry, challenging squeals ringing out in a deep stallion-voice.
Sloan shuddered as he saw the fury in that horse, but as usual, he just shrugged it off, and walked up to the door.
"I'm going to open it." He said, looking up at Dane. "The minute he's in, help me throw this ramp up."

Dane's beautiful grey mare was waiting lazily for him when he put on her head collar and led her out of her stall. He could tell she was in no rush, but she didn't hesitate to wander into the trailer at the sight of a full haynet hanging on the wall.
The boisterous gelding kicked up a bit of a fuss, but he, too, was easy to load.
Dane rubbed his gloved hands together, as if the worst was over, then turned to the 'forbidden stable' where the black stallion still remained, whinnying and snorting furiously at the sudden commotion outside.
Dane and Sloan met eyes, and it was evident what they were both thinking: How the hell are we going to load him?
Still, Dane did as he was told with a grimace and followed the trailer on foot as it backed away towards the stable door. He listened to the instructions given and nodded, gulping nervously, and braced himself for the explosion ready to come.
"As long as I don't lose any fingers..." He mumbled, slowly unlatching his side of the door and meeting Sloan's eye warily, waiting for the signal to drop it.

Sloan nodded grimly to Dane, then helped him to lower the ramp. When it was firmly on the ground, Sloan turned to consider the stable, and drew in a deep breath. "You ready?" He muttered, not quite speaking to Dane, as his fingers crept to the bolt on the stall door.
Midnight was standing at the back, hidden by the gloom, and watching him. The way that stallion stared have him the creeps. It was so calm, almost calculating... Like it was planning how best to destroy him. He had never seen a horse look so utterly hateful...
He suppressed a shudder, and unbolted the door, then carefully swung it open.
Midnight raised his elegant head, snorting loudly through wide nostrils. He pranced forward, hooves touching the ground like springs, and reached the exit to the stall with his tail flung high.
He regarded the trailer like a king surveying his kingdom, then cast a disapproving glance to either side, looking for a way around it.
Sloan squared his shoulders and clucked firmly at the horse, swinging his arm in a subtle herding gesture.
Midnight's ears flicked back, and the stallion snaked his neck aggressively from side to side.
Sloan took a threatening step toward him, and suddenly Midnight lunged forward, charging for Sloan with an angry squeal.
"NO!" He bellowed angrily, grabbing the whip that he had left leaning against the wall, and flicking it viciously toward the stallion. Midnight snorted in alarm and darted away, then charged forward again, only to meet the whip a second time. This process was repeated for nearly a minute, until Midnight threw himself into a frustrated rear. He seemed to hover for an eternity, then touched back down, sweating and shaking - eyes smouldering with fury.
"Walk on." Sloan commanded firmly, flicking the whip toward the horse in a calm fashion.
Midnight responses by swinging bared teeth in Sloan's direction, and this seemed to be the last straw.
"Get!" Sloan snapped, flicking the whip at the stallion again, and letting the end catch him on the rump. Midnight snorted in alarm, muscles bunching, and Sloan managed to dive sideways just in time to avoid his kick - then the startled horse bolted forwards, and clattered up the ramp into the trailer.
Sloan scrambled quickly off the ground, and with Dane's help they heaved the ramp closed, just in time to feel the violent vibrations of a pair of heavy hooves smacking against the sturdy, rubber-clad steel.
"Let's go." Sloan said, and without another word, he strode quickly forwards to get into the Jeep. His hands were scuffed from diving to avoid Midnight's kick, and he brushed them off tenderly on his jeans before gripping the steering wheel. He had scraped the skin on his palms barely enough to draw blood, but it still hurt, and he didn't seem pleased about it - though perhaps he was more displeased by the hopeless prospect he had shaking the trailer behind him.

He pretended to ignore the jerks, the thuds, the violent swaying of the trailer that followed them all the way back, but from his clenched jaw and the tightness with which he gripped the steering wheel, it was obvious he was not as relaxed as he appeared. Twice the cavorting stallion nearly caused the Jeep to roll, and both times Sloan corrected it calmly, without a word, acting as though everything was fine - even though his face was turning whiter by the minute.
By the time they finally pulled up back home, he looked even a little bit shaky. But if he felt it, then he gave no indication.
"You take the other two." Sloan told Dane, picking up a lead rope as he climbed out of the Jeep, "I'll get the mad one."
He walked around to the front of the trailer, and placed his hand on the doorhandle.
"I'll need you to get that ramp down." He said, turning to fix Dane with a series gaze, "And you'll have to be quick - I don't want to be trapped in there with that animal long enough for him to crush me to death."
He nodded toward the ramp, then let himself into the trailer from the front.
He slid easily past the other two horses, and reached Midnight's side before the stallion had even noticed him. With one quick movement, he had the lead rope clipped to the horse's halter, and as he grabbed it sharply under his chin, Sloan cast an urgent glance toward the ramp, just as the horse beside him began to explode.

Dane nodded to confirm he was also ready, then the two released the trailer door and waited for the racket that was to come. He cringed away from the sound of raging hooves on concrete and almost contemplated turning and running for his life. To be honest, that stallion scared him pooless. But if he turned back now he could destroy the plan completely and may even get hurt anyway.
So he leaned against the side of the trailer, minding his fingers, and watched the scene before him unfold.
He was glad Sloan knew what he was doing - sort of - but the sight didn't comfort him in the slightest. The whip was doing something, not necessarily something good, but definitely something, and the Stallion soon learned to stay away from it.
The next problem was it's feet. It wouldn't stop flinging them around! Dane had to duck twice to avoid them, and he wasn't even it's target!

The minute he heard hooves thudding up the ramp, however, Dane jumped to it. He aided Sloan with lifting up the door and bolted it quickly, then they both ran to the Jeep and jumped in, just as the trailer began to shake and clatter behind them.
They both pretended it was fine, but still wore the expressions of cornered rabbits all the way back to the stables. It wasn't said between them, but they were both worried that the stallion would either overturn the damned trailer or bang his way out of it.
Thankfully, by the time they arrived back, the trailer was still intact. However. Dane could tell Sloan's hands had hurt from persuading the stallion to load and that wasn't even going to be the problem from now on.
They parked up and Dane got out to sort out the mare and boisterous gelding. He made sure his gloves were still on before he did it, and tried to avoid Midnight at all costs, and he cautiously led the two horses out into the yard.
"I'll be quick." He promised. "You look like you'll need a hand with him."
He wasn't joking.
"Why don't you put him in the indoor lunging ring? The gate's too high and the walls are made of concrete, but he can run around a bit more."
He clucked the two thoroughbreds on either side of him into a trot.
"I'll be back in a minute."

Once he'd sorted both the mare and gelding into their stables he jogged back out into the yard to look for his boyfriend. "Sloan?"

It was with difficulty that Sloan wrestled his stallion into its stable. The horse reared, plunged and squealed beside him the whole way, Sloan clinging fast to its halter, and keeping his weight on the balls of his feet to spring away quickly whenever an ambitious hoof slashed towards him. The animal beside him writhed like a snake, grunting with fury, and puffed up its neck in a threatening fashion. Multiple times he lifted Sloan right off his feet, and a few times Sloan even had to drop into a crouch and brace his weight against the lead rope to keep the stallion from bolting.

By the time he finally had Midnight enclosed in his stallion-proof stable, Sloan actually had no recollection of how he had got him there. His mind felt fuzzy beneath the drumbeat of his racing heart in his ears, and his fingers shook as he reached for the clasp of the lead rein. Midnight was grunting angrily, and spinning around in a frenzy beside him, but Sloan unclipped the lead rein in a flash, and threw himself out of the stable as quickly as he could.
Unfortunately, he was not quite quick enough.
As he stumbled out of the door, Sloan heard the thunder of heavy hoofbeats behind him, and the next thing he knew, pain was surging through him as powerful teeth clamped around his shoulder.
He shouted something, it might have been a curse, and swung his hand in a blind panic to hit the animal's muzzle.
Never before had he known a horse to bite and clamp down, or to rip its head away with teeth still clenched as Midnight did.
Sloan's vision fuzzed with the shock as he watched the horse tear away a bloodstained piece of his shirt, then dart back into the back of its stall, uttering deep, threatening nickers like the grunts of a charging boar. The horse flapped that piece of bloody material in its mouth like a victory flag, and Sloan felt his knees go weak as he stumbled away from the stable, clutching his bloody shoulder. He backed away right to the other side of the stable aisle, and collapsed back against the wall, bracing himself against it for support as he swallowed the bile in his throat.
The shock of the attack was intense. He felt like he'd been stabbed all over again - because somehow, this was just the same. The horse had meant to injure him. Kill him, even. It had been intentional, and that was what worried him.
He had known that Midnight was bad; known that he was aggressive... But somehow, he had not expected it to be this bad. Somehow, he had expected that he could handle it...

As his racing heartbeat gradually began to slow, Sloan watched Midnight approach the front of his tall, tossing his head up and down with the shredded piece of Sloan's shirt still gripped in his teeth. He looked proud of himself, like a playful colt, but there was fire in his eyes.
He looked like a predator...
Dangerous.
Bloodthirsty.
The horse stared at him, looked him right in the eye, and Sloan felt a shudder scurry down his spine.
The horse was mad. Truly mad. Perhaps gone beyond repair...
Yet when Sloan gazed into that murderous eye, still clutching a heavily bleeding shoulder turning purple with bruising, it was not with fear, but a sort of sick, twisted empathy. He looked at that horse, and somehow, he saw himself.
He couldn't give up on Midnight. He couldn't quite explain why, but that horse just represented something to him - and the idea of failure was just inconceivable to him.
He would get through to that animal... He would do it, or he would die trying. Unfortunately for him, the latter seemed the more likely option...

Dane didn't hear the commotion until Sloan's half shout, half scream echoed through the yard. Eyes widening, Dane almost threw the boisterous gelding into it's stall and ran back to where he'd left Sloan, following the man's footsteps to the stall he'd drilled up the stallion bars for.
Sloan was leaning back against the wall, face completely drained of blood, and staring at the black stallion with eyes so wide the whites were visible all around his irises. Dane had never seen him look so scared.
He stared at the stallion, noting the clump of red shirt clamped between his teeth, and frowned. Sloan's shirt wasn't red.
It wasn't-
Eyes wide, he stared at Sloan's shoulder, although he couldn't see where the clump had come from. Instead of asking Sloan whether he was alright, if he'd been hurt or if he wanted any help with anything, he just grabbed the man's upper shoulder and spun him round to assess the damage. What he saw made him feel sick.
He'd been bitten before, yes. A couple of times he had bled. But it had been accidental, evidently accidental. The teeth had barely scratched his skin. But this... That horse had really dug it's teeth in. Sloan's entire shoulder trembled with the pain of it.
"That needs tending to." He said matter-of-factly, frowning at it for a moment, then nodding to himself. Sloan probably wouldn't take it to the hospital, so they'd have to sort it there. "There should be a full first aid kit somewhere in the house. Come on..." He was about to turn towards the house then stopped. Poor Sloan... He only wanted to help the damned horse. Why was it acting so... Insane?
He turned back to his boyfriend, this time facing his front, and trailed three fingers gently over the man's fear-stricken face, checking for any other injuries. His face, at least, looked untouched.
"You okay?" He asked quietly, privately, as if there was anyone else there. "Has he hurt you anywhere else?"

Sloan was still in a daze when Dane ran up to him, and even when his boyfriend was fussing around him like a frantic mother hen, Sloan was still staring straight at his new horse, eyes wide with disbelief. Midnight tossed his bloody rag about with pricked ears and a high-flung head, clearly gloating.
Gloating!
Sloan had never seen anything like it. Never had he met a creature so downright vindictive.
Feeling a gentle touch on his face, Sloan jerked out of his reverie, and turned his attention to Dane at last, blnking the dazed glassiness out of his eyes. "You okay?" He heard Dane ask softly, but he could only grunt stupidly in response, his thoughts still somewhat scattered. "Huh?" He frowned, vaguely confused, then shook his head to clear his thoughts, so his tongue was free to answer Dane's next question.
"Has he hurt you anywhere else?"
"Not yet..." Sloan muttered grimly, turning to glance at his shoulder. He frowned, and pulled his ripped shirt away to examine the wound. Midnight's teeth had torn out a large chunk of flesh, and from the throbbing ache that accosted his entire arm every time he tried to move it, he was relatively certain that the bite had severed some muscles. It was bleeding freely now, too, and Sloan raised his hand to watch blood drip from his fingertips with mild interest.
He wriggled his bloody fingers tauntingly at Dane, and flashed a crooked smirk, displaying his usual twisted sense of humour. Evidently, he had recovered from the shock.
"I'd better get this sorted out." He commented, grabbing the top of Dane's head in his blood-free hand, and pulling it roughly toward him. He pecked the man's forehead loudly, then ruffled his hair and pushed him out of the way.
Holding his injured arm at his side, Sloan headed toward the house.

It didn't take him long to dig out the first aid kit, and after emptying it onto the bathroom floor in a fit of impatience from trying to find the antiseptic solution, Sloan managed to get his shoulder cleaned up with some success. When it came to bandaging it, however, that was a whole other story. After a few minutes of trying, the closest he had come to bandaging his shoulder was getting the bandage stuck around his neck, and nearly strangling himself.
"Dane!" He shouted irritably, scowling at the loops of bandage draped around him. "I'm f*cking mummifying myself here. Led me a hand, would you?"

Dane watched the colour arrive back to the man's face with a raised eyebrow. He was crap at looking scared. Dane was almost looking forward to a shaken hug. But hey, it had to be done.
He let the man recover and discover the wound on his shoulder, although his reaction was slightly disturbing. When he wiggled his bloody fingers Dane curled his lip in distaste and shuffled away slightly, not at all amused by the sight of it.
He was suddenly grabbed on the back of the head and for one panicked moment he thought it was the bloody one. Not the hat... Not the hat, not the hat... Sloan!
But a the loud kissing sound he looked down in submission and noticed Sloan's bloody hand, and relaxed. At least he was getting some form of affection.
Smiling slightly, he looked back up, ready to take charge once again. But Sloan was already ahead of him.
Blinking stupidly, he slowly followed the man back to the house.

It took a few minutes of hovering awkwardly, waiting for Sloan to allow him to help until he was summoned, and he leapt to it immediately. "Hold still, will you?" He muttered with a soft chuckle, pulling the bandage from Sloan's grip. He wasn't the best at first aid, but whatever he did, it would surely be better than Sloan's attempt?
With that in mind, he began to wrap the bandage around the man's shoulder, testing to make sure it wasn't too loose or tight, frowning in concentration.
It took a couple of attempts, but by the time he was done he was rather pleased with his handywork. He stood back, folding his arms proudly over his chest, and smiled to himself.
"Sloan," He mused innocently. "Never to try and bandage yourself. Ever again." He chuckled and ruffled the man's hair, leaning down and giving him a pack on the cheek.
"Is there anything else needed to do, or do you want me to order dinner?"

Sloan just sat patiently and fought the desire to wince while Dane painstakingly bandaged his shoulder. The man was obviously doing the best he could, but Sloan couldn't say he enjoyed having to sit through the torturous process several times until Dane was content with his handiwork.
Still, he was grateful for the help, so made no comment about how long it had taken. Instead he accepted his boyfriend's hair-ruffle, and responded to his teasing with a subtle chuckle.
"Is there anything else needed to do, or do you want me to order dinner?" Dane asked, pecking him on the cheek.
Sloan smiled and stood up, then rolled his shoulders and answered, "After that steak, I may never eat again, but go ahead and order for yourself. I'm going to feed my horse."
With a stubbornness in his gaze that left no room for argument, Sloan have Dane a good-natured slap on the back, then headed out to the stables to feed Midnight and give the feeding instructions for the new horses to the stablehands.

He managed to feed Midnight with no further injuries, but by the time he returned to the house, he appeared to be brooding somewhat. It had been less than a day, and already his hope was fading. He couldn't help but wonder if he had saved Midnight only to take the stallion's fate into his own hands...
The more he got to know the horse, the more he came to realise that Mike may have been right. Destroying Midnight might be the only option after all...

It was with these thoughts in mind that he walked back into the house, and wandered off to find Dane. It was warm inside, so he shrugged off his torn and bloodied T-shirt, and tossed it into the trash; quite content to walk around shirtless. When he found Dane, he sneaked up on him from behind, and slipped an arm around his chest, pecking his ear delicately.
He stood there quietly a while, resting his chin on his boyfriend's shoulder, then grew bored, and began kissing down his neck instead.
At least he still had Dane. No matter what happened with that horse, he had Dane... So then why did he feel like his entire life depended on fixing an animal he'd met only a day ago...?

Dane was happily cooking himself some eggs - he didn't fancy some fatty takeaway - at the hob when an arm snaked around his chest. He stopped looking at the eggs and looked up at the faint, white reflection of his boyfriend's face on the tiles in front of him.
He smiled, rather enjoying the attention, and went back to poking his fried eggs.
He served himself some toast, all the while balancing Sloan's head upright on his shoulder, then scooped up the eggs onto the bread. Happy, he got himself a knife and fork and placed them on his plate.
Once his meal was made he stared down at it for a while, wondering how he was going to eat it when Sloan was holding him like that. Shrugging, he tore off a piece of toast and offered it to Sloan, who seemed disinterested, so he popped it in his own mouth instead.
Then, when he felt lips on his neck and he stopped eating all together and relaxed his shoulders. The attention made his heart melt, until he was nothing but a but a big, fluffy blob of love. His head angled away from Sloan's, pressing his neck closer to the man's lips, and he gently pressed his hand over Sloan's arm.
A few moments later he realised, with raised eyebrows, that Sloan was shirtless. Smirking slightly to himself he turned around and leaned back against the counter. So what if his tea went cold? Sloan was here. He didn't have a top on.
"Why, hello dear." He teased, resting his brow against Sloan's. One side of his mouth lifted upwards slightly. "I take it he didn't do any more damage?" He angled his jaw and kissed the man sweetly on the lips, evidently charmed.
"Want any tea? I made eggs." He jerked his thumb behind him, although he wasn't really taking any notice of anything but Sloan's beautiful face.

Sloan would have been content to just keep kissing Dane until he melted completely, but after a few moments of trying to eat, Dane turned to face him, and Sloan shifted his weight back onto his heels, folding his arms in front of him ((GANGNAM STYLE!)) and raising his eyebrows. "Why, hello dear." Dane greeted him teasingly, and Sloan bowed his head to let Dane's forehead meet his. He automatically stroked the man's cheek, letting his fingers linger on Dane's jawbone for a moment before sliding off.
"I take it he didn't do any more damage?" Dane asked, although he was kissing Sloan before waiting for an answer, so Sloan didn't offer one. Instead, he closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss, mumbling a muffled "Mmhm" under his breath.
"Want any tea? I made eggs."
This, he did not dignify with any sort of answer, since he clearly wasn't interested. Instead, he touched Dane's chin, and offered a sweet kiss, lips just slightly apart, which lingered for a few precious seconds before he pulled away.

He left Dane after that, and after showering and brushing his teeth, he just went straight to bed.
For the next few weeks, Sloan's entire life seemed to revolve around the mad stallion bolted into the end stable. He left the other new racers completely to Dane, and just barely spared a few minutes each day to keep Goldrush - who was supposed to be his competition mount - fit.
He seemed to come back with new bruises from Midnight every day, and it was clear that the longer he tried for, the more disheartened he became. He tried hard not to let it bring him down, but it was obvious that his inability to reach the stallion was torturing him. He began to unconsciously drift away from Dane; occasionally spending entire days saying barely a word to the man. Even when they did speak, Sloan's attention always seemed to be elsewhere, and often he would interject randomly with a sudden idea of what to do with his horse.
After six weeks had passed, Sloan was in truly bad shape. He had lost sleep over what to do with Midnight, and his guiltily aloof and defensive attitude hinted that the stallion was not the only one intentionally causing harm to Sloan. He had reached a stage where he was nearly as ill-tempered and unstable as the horse he worked with, and when he wasn't avoiding Dane completely he was usually snapping at him; except for the few times when he would spontaneously grab his boyfriend and shower him in guilty affection, as though trying to make up for his poor attitude. Even then, they had seldom made love - because Sloan always seemed to have some new injury which he claimed prevented it, be it the rib that he was certain was fractured, or the numerous black eyes and headaches caused by mild concussions.

By the second month, Sloan had still made no headway with Midnight, and though exhaustion was clearly taking its toll on him, he refused to admit it, and only applied himself more determinedly to his work with the horse.
It was after about a week of this behaviour that the inevitable happened.

It was James, the head stable hand, who found him. When he saw the man passed out on the floor of Midnight's stable, his hazel eyes widened in fear, and he dived at the door, fumbling with the bolt to get inside.
He swung the door open, intending to race in and save Sloan, but the moment he tried, a set of angry teeth swung towards him, and clacked together an inch from his nose. He gasped and scrambled back, just as the stallion lunged again, again missing him by inches.
James was a young man, perhaps eighteen, and though he was great with most of the horses, this particular lunatic scared the pants off him, so he dived out of the way - not even bothering to close the door.
"Dane!" He screamed, swinging around to face in the direction of the house, though not daring to leave the stables. "DANE!" He shouted again, "Sloan's collapsed in Midnight's stable!"
He swung around again, swallowing a lump of nerves, and dashed as close as he dared to the stallion's stable.
Is he dead...? He wondered silently to himself, gnawing his lip as his eyes searched Sloan's crumpled form desperately for signs of movement, but found none. The horse was standing over him, one huge hoof on either side of his head, and planted firmly. James couldn't help but think that it looked like a lion protecting a fresh kill...
He swallowed thickly and inched closer to the stable, desperate to pull Sloan to safety, but the stallion grunted, and uttered an angry squeal, lashing its head from side to side in a threatening gesture and snapping its great teeth at him.
Even with the door wide open, Midnight would not move away from the fallen man between his hooves.

Dane's head snapped up at the sound of the young stable hand's desperate shouts, and he dropped the bar of saddle soap in his hand - causing it to smash in two as it hit the hard floor - and bolted towards the sounds.
Sloan had collapsed? How? What had he been doing?
Was he dead?
No... No, he couldn't let himself believe that. Sloan was fast. He wouldn't let himself be attacked so critically, he'd be wise enough to flee the stable before things got to that stage.
However, when Dane cast his mind back to what his boyfriend had been like with the horse, he realised he may have just given up trying to dodge the blows. His body had already been beaten to it's limits, and he'd grown more and more frustrated with the stallion as time had gone on. Dane could tell.
But... Surely he wouldn't be so reckless?
He appeared at the open door and scrambled to a halt beside James, not even giving the younger man a second look, and stared into the dark, eerie stable.
His eyes immediately darted to the floor, where Sloan's body laid crumpled in the hay, his head dangerously close to the mad animal's heavy hooves. Midnight stood over the lump of limbs as if protecting it's food from rivals, glaring at the two of them with it's ears flattened threateningly on it's poll like two sharp horns.
"James." Dane growled, not taking his eyes off the horse. "Call an ambulance. And get me a metal saddle horse whilst you're at it."
He couldn't risk riling the horse up enough to have it jump on Sloan's head, but he needed to get in that stable and 'claim' Sloan's body before the evil animal did any more damage.
He'd never hated a horse in his life. But this one, he loathed so much the sight of it made his blood boil.
Unsure of what his plan would be, he grabbed the saddle horse James gave him and held it threateningly length-ways over his body and face, legs sticking out to protect him, and took a step towards the open door.
"Sloan... Sloan!" He shouted, his voice shaking slightly in a mix of fear and fury. "If you can move, I'd do it now."
Please wake up, mate. He begged silently. Get your head away at least. Come on, wake up...
He inched towards the the side wall of the stable, staring the stallion right in the eye. If he got up against the wall, if he managed to get to Sloan, if he could just persuade the stallion to get out of the stable and let him get to Sloan...
He shifted sideways into the stable, using the upturned saddle horse to protect his face, and followed the path of the wall to his back.
"I don't care what's happened to you before all this." He growled furiously at the vicious animal, keeping his distance. "I don't care whether you were born a psychopath or if you have some mental disorder. I don't care if you want to kill me."
He stepped forward, facing the stallion head on.
"Get the hell out!"
He couldn't care less if it ran away and never came back. If it ran into the yard and broke the gate in order to get out of there. As long as it got away from Sloan.
"Go on!" He pushed the saddle horse forward threateningly.

At Dane's order, James turned and sprinted in the direction of the office, scrambling in his haste. He returned moments later with the metal saddle horse - which he handed to Dane - and a cellphone grasped so tightly in his sweaty hand that when he tried to dial the number for the ambulance, it slipped from his grasp and hit the floor.
He cursed and dived at it, fumbling clumsily with the buttons while Dane advanced on the murderous stallion.

Midnight stood calmly, cruel head raised in pride, and watched haughtily as Dane approached. If he had been human, he would have turned up his nose.
When the man entered his stable, Midnight flattened his ears, and swung his head from side to side in a herding gesture - but he was met by the harsh metal of the saddle horse being jabbed toward him, and he flung up his head with an angry snort. All the while, however, his hooves remained glued to the spot - legs planted like metal pillars.
When Dane started shouting, Midnight grunted under his breath and ground his teeth angrily, nodding his head in a rapid fashion, and every now and then swinging his muzzle at Dane, teeth bared. Each time, however, Dane brandished the saddle horse in his face, and Midnight was forced to throw his head back again.
He began uttering deep, predatory whinnies deep in his throat, puffing up his neck to its thickest, and shivering his powerful muscles.
Undeterred, Dane shoved the saddle horse toward him, and shouted threateningly, trying to herd him out of the stable, but Midnight just squealed, and lashed out violently with a foreleg - then spooked when his hoof glanced off the saddle horse with a loud clang. He grunted and tossed up his head, eyes rolling, and carefully replaced his hoof beside Sloan's head.

It was at that moment that Sloan finally stirred. Consciousness had been seeping back into him since he'd first heard his name, but only now did he register that the chaos surrounding him was reality. "I'm not a psychopath..." He muttered weakly, voice muffled by the straw under his face. He braced himself on one hand, raising his upper body on a shaking arm, and carefully shifted his knee forward to prop himself up. "You know I prefer 'eccentric'..."
His voice was barely louder than a whisper, but his usual dry humour showed easily in the subtle smirk on his pale face.
He managed to shift himself into a sitting position in the straw, legs folded at his side, and leaned unconsciously against one of Midnight's pillar-like legs. Yawning groggily, Sloan rubbed his tired eyes with his fists, then looked around, blinking in a bemused fashion, seemingly surprised to find himself in a stall.
He spent a few moments just looking around - and if he noticed that Dane was backed up against a wall protecting his life with a saddle horse, then he clearly didn't much care. He also didn't seem too concerned to be sitting between the hooves a violently insane animal.
Once he had managed to get his bearings, Sloan began struggling to his feet, using Midnight's leg for support. After a couple of attempts he was standing, albeit shakily, with a handful of Midnight's long, shaggy mane to keep him upright. The horse stood still beside him, placid as a puppy, but its cruel eyes still glowered threateningly at Dane.
Sloan yawned again, evidently exhausted, and leaned against Midnight's shoulder as his eyes darted from Dane to James - who was gaping at him from the stable aisle - and back again. "I'm okay." He announced innocently after the shocked silence had dragged on a while, "Just fainted or something I guess... Shut up, James." He added, expecting the younger man to start mocking him; but when he met James's eyes, they were just staring back at him in utter shock. Sloan shrugged it off, and stroked Midnight's shoulder absentmindedly as he explained, "Sorry if I scared you, I guess I've been pushing myself a bit too hard lately." Grinning sheepishly, Sloan rubbed the back of his head in an awkward fashion, then pushed aside his guilt, and stepped forward, taking the saddle horse from Dane's hands. He pushed his boyfriend out of the stable with a few gentle shoves between the shoulder blades, then left the stall himself and bolted the door behind him. He still didn't look well - between his pale complexion, shaky hands, and numerous injuries - but some of the light had returned to his eyes, and it was clear that, at last, he had accomplished something with his horse. He said nothing, however, for several long minutes when he just stared at Dane and James in turn.
"Well..." He said finally, stretching his arms above his head in a casual fashion, "I think I'll take a nap, then."

Dane didn't shift away when the stallion attempted to attack him, he just raised the saddle horse when needed to dodge any attack and kept an eye on Sloan to make sure he wasn't being trampled on.
When a voice suddenly croaked from the floor however, his eyes widened in shock. Had he imagined it?
"I'm not a psychopath... You know I prefer 'eccentric'..."
What?
For a single reckless moment he cast his concentration away from the stallion and watched, mesmerised as the man who had been previously out like a light stagger to his feet, using the apparently undeterred horse as his support. Dane wasn't too sure what to do at that point. If he got anywhere near Midnight he'd have to dodge an attack again. But why wasn't the stallion moving away from Sloan? Or trying to bite him? It was almost as if... It was still protecting him, and Sloan wasn't even bothered.
"S-... Sloan?" He mumbled stupidly, not quite believing his eyes. One minute he was the brave hero, then he finds out his damsel wasn't even in danger?
"I'm okay. Just fainted or something I guess... Shut up, James."
Niether Dane nor James had said anything, because they were both as gobsmacked as each other. Sloan was stood completely now, using Midnight's shoulder as a rest, and the stallion let him happily. Dane's brow slowly began to crease in the middle as his eyebrows pulled together in confusion.
"Sorry if I scared you, I guess I've been pushing myself a bit too hard lately."
He then decided to sort out the situation by gently taking the saddle horse from Dane like it had been a knife pointed at him a moment ago. He then shoved a shocked Dane out of the stall and bolted the door behind them. Dane just blinked, not all that awake, and staggered forward until he found his feet again. What the Hell had just happened?
"I think I'll take a nap, then."
"No." Dane said suddenly, wheeling round and gabbing Sloan's arm, which was just lowering down from his stretch, and pulled him towards his chest. "No... No you don't. Not yet." His eyes went firm for a moment, then went back to their previous, scared state.
"Sloan, what happened? You don't get it. If that horse," - didn't use it's name for a reason - "had so much as put a foot wrong you could have been dead by now. What the Hell were you doing?"

Sloan's hopes had not been high for getting off scott free, but he still uttered a disappointed sigh when Dane caught him and pulled him back. "But I'm tired!" He whined in objection, pouting sulkily. Unfortunately, Dane still looked far too shaken to fall for his cute face, so Sloan dropped it with a shrug, and resigned himself to being scolded.
"Sloan, what happened? You don't get it. If that horse had so much as put a foot wrong you could have been dead by now. What the Hell were you doing?"
Sloan opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again, stuck for words. He gnawed his lip thoughtfully for a long while, then finally raised his head, and glanced toward James.
"Could you give us a moment?" He asked the gaping stablehand. James's mouth closed with a snap, and he nodded a little awkwardly, then slunk off back to work - leaving Sloan to face Dane alone.
He turned slowly back to his boyfriend, met his gaze intensely, and answered, "I'm fine."
There was such certainty in his voice that it gave those two words a million more meanings, but Sloan did not give voice to any. Instead he reached out, and laid a reassuring hand on Dane's cheek - unconsciously showing the man more intimacy than he had in weeks.
"I'm sorry." He said earnestly, "I didn't mean to do something so reckless. One minute I was standing with Midnight, and the next I just..." Sloan trailed off, shrugging helplessly. How could he explain it? The battles, the bruises, the sleepless nights, the touch of anemia - it had all just caught up with him somehow, and he'd crashed like an overheated computer.
"Hey..." He let his lips pull into a hopeful smile, "I fixed my demon horse. Well... Kind of."

Dane didn't even realise James was watching until Sloan ordered him to leave them, and Dane looked down slightly awkwardly, clearing his throat. Perhaps he'd already made it obvious by the way he'd reacted that they were going out, but he didn't really care much. All that mattered was that Sloan was alive and well, unlike what Dane had previously thought.
He felt the intensity of the gaze before he saw it, but when he did the middle of his brow lifted up subtly with such emotion that he couldn't quite understand.
I thought you were dead... He thought desperately to the man before him, swallowing the bile in his throat. For a moment I was actually sure it had killed you.
The touch on his cheek just caused a shaky sigh to be released from his lungs, and he covered the hand with his own gently, closing his eyes for a moment. It had been too long since Sloan had shown him such love. Far too long. He hadn't even realised he'd missed it until then.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do something so reckless. One minute I was standing with Midnight, and the next I just..."
"I know." Dane nodded, barely opening his eyes. "I understand."
"Hey... I fixed my demon horse. Well... Kind of."
Dane's eyes opened fully for a moment as he watched the tiny smile pull on his boyfriend's lips. He'd not seen that little smile in ages. He'd missed it.
In fact, the sight of it nearly made him want to cry. So he just shook his head, letting out a chuckle as he did so and pulled Sloan into a tight hug, cupping on hand behind his head and pulling him close.
"I noticed." He replied, amused.
He stood there for a while, clutching Sloan to him, subtly caressing the man's skin through his shirt with his fingertips, then he raised his lips to the man's ear. "Don't ever do that to me again." He pleaded shakily, then gently kissed Sloan's earlobe, breathing onto his pale, tired skin.
"You smell of horse pee." He pointed out frankly, still clutching the man to him, and chuckled quietly to himself. Of course he did, the poor guy had been laid face-first in a horse's stable.

As Sloan smiled at Dane, he saw his boyfriend's eyes fill with emotion and before he knew what was happening, Dane was hugging him desperately. "Ow, ow, ow!" Sloan muttered under his breath, wincing painfully as Dane's body pressed against numerous fresh and healing bruises and abrasions. Still, he smiled silently to himself, and folded his arms gently around the man's back, holding him as though he was made of porcelain.
Unlike the distant, aloof Sloan of late - he stood quietly while Dane hugged him, letting the man's fingers explore his back as though to make sure all of him was still there. He may have given Dane a fright, but with all this attention, he did not entirely regret it. It touched him deeply to be reminded yet again of how much his boyfriend cared for him.
"Don't ever do that to me again." Dane whispered shakily, and Sloan just laughed, tilting his head back so his eyes met Dane's. "You know I can't promise that." He retorted fairly, throwing his shoulders into a shrug, and grinning at Dane.
"You smell of horse pee." Dane pointed out, and Sloan nodded unconcernedly. "I do." He agreed. Then, with an eyebrow flirtatiously raised, "It turns you on a little bit, doesn't it?"
To be fair it probably didn't, but Sloan knew as well as anybody how long it had been since Dane had 'gotten any', and since his hand had somehow sneaked down to seize his boyfriend's firm buttocks, he supposed that ought to do it. Not that he intended to go any further than teasing his boyfriend, of course. He had been dead serious about taking a nap - he was dog tired after all.
"Mm." He sniffed, "Nap time. See ya, mate." He slapped Dane's butt casually, then slipped out of his embrace, and turned away to walk back to the house. His limp had become rather more pronounced from his exhaustion - or perhaps from some unseen battle scar inflicted by his horse - but his legs seemed to have regained some stability.

Dane grinned when Sloan agreed with him, but the cocky reply was not what he'd been expecting. "It turns you on a little bit, doesn't it?"
It didn't, but for some reason those words made him blush. He'd been deprived of some serious desires since Sloan had started working with that horse, and now even the words seemed to taunt him somewhat. Not only that, but he'd been responsible for his own sexual releases for over a month, and it was driving him crazy not having his boyfriend around him often. He obediently unfolded his arms from around his boyfriend and stared at him with his cutest, longing puppy face. It was silly, really. Sloan had only just woken up from fainting and Dane wanted sex? He knew he wasn't going to get it, though. That's probably why he wanted it so much.
The hand around his backside stopped him, and he grunted in surprise. When was the last time Sloan had done that? He couldn't even remember.
"Nap time. See ya, mate."
The gentle pat in the same area made him groan with animalistic frustration, and he nearly found himself running after Sloan on his needs alone, but another part of him knew that Sloan was tired, and if he wanted any more affection he'd have to wait for it himself.
"See ya." He murmured, although it sounded more like a childish whine.

Once he'd had an hour session with trying to persuade the bay gelding to stop attempting to buck him off, Dane finished cleaning it's tack and locked up for the night. He ran to the corner shop to get some supplies and arrived at the house with two carrier-bags full of food.
If Sloan wasn't awake yet, Dane would make sure he was there for dinner.
The dish was a simple lasagne, but Dane had bought plenty of Ben and Jerry's ice cream along with pancake mixtures for the next morning, and some garlic bread for a side with the main course. ((Can you tell I'm hungry? XD)) It took him over an hour to figure out how to cook it all, but once he'd started, the entire house smelt of deliciously cooked tomatoes, mince and garlic.
"Sloan!" He shouted once he was done. "Tea's ready!"
The effort proved he was in a good mood, in more ways than one.

Sloan, tired as he was, slept like a log all through the afternoon, until he was finally awoken by the tantalizing scent of a freshly cooked meal. The moment he caught a whiff of the delicious aroma, the fact that he'd not had a bite to eat all day hit him like a fist to the stomach, and his hunger dragged him out of bed like a physics force, so by the time Dane called him, he was already out of bed and pulling a warm woolen sweater over his bare chest.
He limped stiffly into the dining room - still looking painfully worn out and exhausted, but with a peaceful expression on his face at last. He had seemed at war with himself for quite a while - but now it seemed that that conflict was resolved and, although tired, Sloan seemed to be back to his old self again.

"Mmmm!" He mumbled, stopping to take an appreciative sniff of the air. "Smells divine! Now gimme, I'm starved."
He snatched a plate from the counter with a devious grin, then turned back toward the dining room table. Before he set his plate down, however, he impulsively caught Dane in a rough headlock, and smacked a noisy peck on the top of his head.
"Thanks mate." He said with a grin, ruffling Dane's hair with his free hand.
Then, practically drooling from desire, he scurried to the table, slammed his plate down, and attacked it with a knife and fork - shoveling huge forkfuls of lasagne into his mouth as though it was his last meal.
He didn't say a word while he ate - just gulped his meal down ravenously until all too soon there was none left. Then he helped himself to seconds.
Once he had finished his second serving of Lasagne and garlic bread, Sloan was well and truly stuffed, so he collapsed onto the couch in front of the TV with a satisfied sigh. A hint of colour was creeping back into his smiling cheeks now, and for all intensive purposes, it seemed as though Sloan was coming back to life. He certainly felt a fair deal better...
Uttering another happy sigh, he cast a sideways glance in Dane's direction, waiting with limited patience for him to finish eating. Now that he was in a state of mind where he actually noticed his boyfriend, Sloan was beginning to realise how much he had missed the deep intimacy that he had shared with the man before he'd got so caught up in Midnight's training.
In any case, he thought it was about time they had that intimacy back - and judging by Dane's reaction to his teasing earlier, he clearly felt the same.

Dane already had his plate in his hand when Sloan appeared, roused by the smell and evidently hungry, and Dane chuckled. Bless him. Sloan had been so bothered about Midnight lately that he hadn't been eating frequently. He looked like he'd got a bit thinner too.
He was just about to turn round when he was dragged into a headlock and he swore loudly, nearly dropping his plate in the process.
"Slo-oan..." He groaned in a muffled tone, trying to fight it. But, hard as he might, he couldn't help but feel amused by the contact. Sloan was obviously feeling much better.
"Get off me, you noob." Dane teased, shoving Sloan aside and wandered to the table to put his plate down.
The two ate in silence, but Dane's part was only because he knew he'd get nothing out of his boyfriend when he was so hungry. So he at quietly and pleasantly and glanced up every now and then to watch Sloan attack his food with faint amusement. Let's face it, he could have given the man porridge and cucumber and he wouldn't have noticed.
Sloan finished his second serving and left the table to replace it with the leather sofa, and Dane just carried on eating like nothing had happened. He noticed Sloan watching him, waiting for him to finish. This only made him eat slower.
Sloan had made him wait for two months. He could wait a few more minutes.

Once he'd finished the food he licked the bowl via his finger for good measure - purposely looking slightly suggestive in the process - and placed both their plates in the dishwasher.
Finally, once he'd washed his hands a few times and dried them with three different towels he went and picked up a small pot of Ben and Jerry's, a pair of teaspoons, then finally went and sat on the sofa.
Instead of giving Sloan his spoon, he opened the tub and started happily eating, slowly, teasingly with his own spoon. He was actually leaning with is back to Sloan, but he knew the man would notice. He then left Sloan's spoon wedged high up between his legs, spoon end out, and continued eating.
After a while he turned his head towards the man and blinked innocently, resting his head back, smiling slightly cunningly.
"You want some?" He asked with an angelic grin, winking suggestively.

When Dane began intentionally taking forever to finish, Sloan pretended to lose interest - flipping the TV to a news channel, and making as if he gave a crap about rising petrol prices and Taylor Swift's new f*ck buddy.
After a few painful minutes of ignoring Dane, his boyfriend plonked down on the couch beside him, leaning against him, and dug into the tub of ice-cream in his lap in such a way that Sloan wondered if he was trying to eat it or pleasure it. He was about to voice this cruel sarcasm when Dane finally spoke, distracting his thoughts.
"You want some?" He asked, tilting his head back so Sloan was left glaring into his sparkling eyes.
Sloan's gaze flicked from the spoon between Dane's legs back to his face, and he shook his head and snorted.
"Nice try mate, but I'm not gonna blow you." Sloan answered bluntly, evidently deciding not to play along with Dane's 'subtle' games.
As though to make a point, Sloan stole Dane's spoon right from out of his mouth, stabbed it into the ice-cream, and scooped out a big chunk. He shoveled it into his mouth, licked the spoon clean, then shoved it beside the other spoon and stood up, stretching casually in a manner he knew for a fact flashed his abs.
He yawned flirtatiously, making an obvious spectacle of it, then bent down and whispered into Dane's ear, "I'll be in bed. I might decide to undress first. Join me if you like, it's your choice."
He let his lips brush sensually over Dane's ear, and trailed a delicate finger over his jawline as he pulled away.
Then, in typical Sloan fashion, he flashed a taunting wink and flounced off to the bedroom, pulling off his sweater and tossing it into the middle of the passage on the way.

"Nice try mate, but I'm not gonna blow you."
"That didn't cross my mind once." Dane replied innocently turning back to his icecream and protecting it like a dog protected her newborn puppies. Of course it didn't. He thought to himself deviously. I just wanted you to touch it.
He grumbled when the spoon was plucked from his mouth and taken away from him, and he watched it with desperate longing in his eyes as it scooped up some cookie dough and flew right into his boyfriend's mouth.
My spoon... He wailed silently. That's my spoon...
Sloan then stood up and stretched, and, forgetting about his icecream, Dane's eyes flicked openly over the small flash of stomach which peeked out from underneath the man's shirt. He didn't bother pretending he wasn't, he'd missed his Sloan and he intended to see more of him before he, as Sloan had once put it, 'mounted him like a lion and f*cked his brains out'. ((Yes, he's that deprived. XD))
He flicked his tongue hungrily over his cream-coated lips and watched unblinkingly as the peek of flesh disappeared back under Sloan's jumper. He then felt the man's hot breath tickle his ear and Dane's trembling legs made him drop the spoon poking from below his crotch and the icecream tub in his hand to almost spill all over the sofa. "I'll be in bed. I might decide to undress first. Join me if you like, it's your choice."
"U-undress?" He stuttered, mesmerised by the prospect. But when he turned around again Sloan was already gone.
Shoving the lid on the icecream he dumped it on the floor and fled to the bedroom in desperation to see his boyfriend undress. He didn't care that he was being slightly too desperate, or strange, or creepy. All sense had left him.
He arrived at the bedroom door - having nearly tripped on the crumpled jumper on the floor - and stared, panting, gaping at Sloan's bare chest with a mouth shaped like a wide 'o'.
"Uh... Um... Hi." He mumbled stupidly.

((Nice quote. XD What genius thought of it? ))

Sloan had barely reached the bedroom and undone the zip of his jeans when Dane burst in, clearly in a hurry. Abandoning his attempt to undress, Sloan raised his eyebrows at Dane and perched his hands on his hips - loosened jeans slipping down a few inches to reveal the top of his underwear. Dane gaped at him silently for a while, then mumbled nervously, "Uh... Um... Hi."
Taking pity on his boyfriend, Sloan's expression softened, and he smiled warmly at the man in front of him.
Having lost some weight, when he moved his jeans just slipped down, and Sloan stepped casually out of them, walking straight over to Dane. The poor man had been patient for far too long. It would be cruel to make him wait any longer.
So, without a moment's hesitance, Sloan walked boldly up to his boyfriend and caught his face between rough hands. Then he leaned in and kissed him sweetly. It lasted a few seconds before Sloan broke for breath, then pressed closer still, kissing Dane with more intensity than before.
"Go on then." He whispered, sliding his hand from Dane's cheek down the back of his neck. "I'm yours. Have your way with me."
It was a strangely submissive thing to say, especially coming from Sloan, but his expression brimmed with confidence, and the way he held Dane's gaze did not betray a hint of uncertainty.
His hand slid down further and further, coming to rest at Dane's waist, then sliding forward to grasp Dane's hand. He took it, and backed away toward the bed, leading the other man with him.
Just as the backs of his knees met the soft mattress, Sloan guided Dane's hand so his fingers met the waistband of Sloan's boxers. From there, he left it all up to Dane, just watching him with handsome intensity.

((You. Naturally. ))

Dane's eyes darted madly over Sloan's body, watching each of his tattoos roll over his brief muscles as he moved, and he way his hip bones were slightly visible above the lowering hem of his jeans.
He couldn't help it. All he could think about was what it felt like to run his hands down that chest and cup them around those hipbones.
When the jeans slipped away Dane felt a single drop of sweat trickle down the back of his neck, causing him to shudder. The stress of being patient was catching up on him, and he was obviously not going to be able to wait of Sloan decided to play games with him then.
With a jolt hands cupped around his face, and before Dane could really understand what was going on Sloan was kissing him, both sweetly and roughly at the same time. Dane grumbled beneath it. Sloan knew that kiss sent him to insanity.
He barely had time to recover before he was kissed again, and by the time Sloan was 'done' with him he was left panting, even though the kiss hadn't lasted that long, and wearing the face of a starving puppy.
Feed me. His large, sparkling eyes begged silently.

"Go on then." Sloan demanded softly, his fingers teasing the back of Dane's neck. The act made Dane shudder, and he was so mesmerised by the feeling that the next few words took longer than socially acceptable to sink in: "I'm yours. Have your way with me."
It was so unlike Sloan to say it that Dane actually thought he'd got so beside himself that he'd imagined it. Had he imagined it? It was him who was usually the submissive one, anyway.
But no, when Sloan's hand caressed down Dane's back and to his hand, he realised he'd heard correct. His boyfriend looked extremely confident despite his words, and Dane was so astonished by this he almost forgot what he was supposed to be doing.
In fact, it took an entire trip to the bed and to be pulled back onto the mattress for him to snap back to his 'lionistic' desires. (( ))
He glanced uncertainly down to where his fingers had been placed: at the waistband of Sloan's underwear, skimming the faint hinting of his lower navel hair, just above where a certain pair of precious jewels lay hidden. If he pulled the shorts down just slightly he'd be able to see them.
But he didn't.
Instead, he smiled and shook his head gently, trailing his fingers away from the area and back up Sloan's rising and falling chest. Four fingers fell to three, to two, then one, until it reached Sloan's chin, then it flicked away as if it were flicking off a piece of fluff from his skin.
Eyes twinkling, Dane knelt up and pulled his long-sleeved shirt over his head, then unbuttoned his jodhpurs. He wriggled out of them and tossed them aside, then sat back to his previous task.
His fingers appeared back on Sloan's stomach as they retraced their footsteps upwards, but instead of flicking off at the man's chin they trailed right up to his face and cupped lightly over Sloan's eyes. Dane didn't press hard enough so Sloan had to close them, since he could feel the man's eyelashes tickling at his fingers. But his sight would be shadowed, and that was all he needed.
"D'you trust me?" He whispered, slightly uncertainly, hovering awkwardly over Sloan's chest with a single hand by his head to support his own weight.

Sloan shivered when Dane's fingers trailed up his chest, and when they flicked off at his chin and Dane stepped back, Sloan released an involuntary shudder of pleasure. A subtle little moan escaped under his breath as he watched Dane undress, leaning longingly toward him. He was about to try to steal a kiss, but then he felt Dane's touch on his stomach, creeping up to his face. Dane's name formed on his lips - but then the man's hand closed over his eyes, and Sloan was struck dumb by vague surprise. His eyes were not forced closed, but when he looked dead ahead, all he saw was darkness.
Helpless, he shivered, and was about to reach up and free his sight from Dane's fingers when he heard a quiet voice whisper uncertainly near his ear, "D'you trust me?"
Sloan opened his mouth to reply, as his eyes searched blindly for Dane's, uncertainty stayed his tongue. He could feel the man there, but he wanted to see him. He wanted to see him, taste him, smell him - just to make absolutely sure that the man before him was not some sort of illusion. He was insecure in these moments, and Dane knew that. That was why the man was testing him this way. He had told Dane 'have your way with me'... He would just have to man up and play along.
"Yes..." He murmured at last, after a moment that felt like an eternity. The answer sounded feeble even to him, so he tried again, with a little more confidence this time.
"Yes, always."
He laid a hand across Dane's heart, and as his fingers tightened against the man's bare chest, Sloan felt Dane's heartbeat throbbing gently with his, and the familiar feeling eased the tension from his shoulders, and he relaxed into Dane's touch.
He wasn't sure what Dane had in mind, but Sloan trusted him. Whatever it was, it would be all right. He trusted Dane. Even when some deep-based instinct warned him to flee, he trusted Dane...