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

"Feminist." Sloan retorted cheekily in response to Claire's comment, "I never said you wouldn't like it 'cause you're a chick. Don't go putting words in my mouth."
He watched out of the corner of his eye as she searched through his music, and grinned when she selected his Demon Hunter / Atreyu mix. He'd had a feeling that Claire might not have the conventional tastes in music - but that choice impressed him more than he had expected.
"You have screamo." She said approvingly as the harsh sounds of it blasted from the speakers, "Okay, now we're on the same page."
Sloan just chuckled to himself, nodding in agreement. It had been way too long since he had been able to listen to his screamo at liberty. He had had to 'Dane-proof' his playlist, after all, and that had involved removing all but the mildest screamo from his regular music in case it gave his boyfriend nightmares. Honestly, the things he sacrificed for that man...
They drove for a while - in silence except for the beat of the music - until Sloan finally pulled off onto a road the lead pretty much into the middle of the woods, as promised.
At last he pulled up in a gravel parking lot outside a fenced area that looked rather like a battle ground, strewn with ditches, barricades and obstacles, and nestled amongst a forest of tall, dark trees.
He unlocked the Jeep and got out, then went around to the back seat. He pulled out what looked like some sort of large shotgun, looking sinister with the eerie background and the angry music still throbbing from the Jeep's speakers, but then he tossed the gun to Claire, followed by some protective gear.
Then he took out his own gun, and locked the Jeep behind him.
"Ready to shoot some f*ckers' brains out?" He teased with a grin, gesturing toward the sign beside the tall metal gate, reading 'Paintball', and with a series of times that they were open.
"There's some sort of contest on today." He explained with a shrug, "Last team standing gets free beer and a voucher to Pizza Hut... Nothing spells 'victory' like shitty beer and pizza, huh?" He grinned and took up his gun, holding it expertly as he waited for Claire to put on her armour. He supposed he should have worn some too, but he only had one set, and besides... The best part of Paintball for him was the pain. Masochistic as it seemed, he loved feeling melon-sized bruises sprouting up wherever a painty little bullet struck him. Yeah it hurt like a bitch, but it was well worth the rush.

Claire ignored him and continued to passionately mouth the violent lyrics out the window, eyes closed in concentration. She hated Sloan, that was no secret. She had her reasons, and he knew it too. But she had to admit... He wasn't too bad when he wasn't overthinking things, half-crying or upsetting Dane.
When Sloan parked up the Jeep she realised, shockingly, that he had taken her exactly where he'd promised. They were parked on a muddy patch in the middle of a wood, just beside a large metal gate. She climbed out and read the sign, surprisingly undeterred that he had kept his promise, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise.
Paintball?
Oh...
She caught the large gun he tossed to her from nowhere and studied it for a moment, then smiled as if meeting an old friend. She loved paintball!
She automatically yanked on the body protector and army clothes, then held the gun expertly under one arm, swinging the strap of the helmet with the other. Surprisingly this wasn't something she'd have expected Sloan to be interested in. Then again, she didn't know much about him other than he was a pathetic, emo crybaby.
"There's some sort of contest on today. Last team standing gets free beer and a voucher to Pizza Hut... Nothing spells 'victory' like shitty beer and pizza, huh?"
She pondered over this with a serious frown, then her lips slowly pulled up into a hungry grin. "I do like pizza..." She mumbled thoughtfully, then laughed outloud and turned to him, flipping the gun expertly in one hand. "You know what, Terse? It's on."
Her eyes hooded over playfully. She certainly looked ready for bloodshed.
"And you're lucky that you have me as a team mate." She grinned deviously. "I've got years of cadet training to kick ass with." She prodded the floor with the nib of her gun and leant coolly against it. "But if we lose, I'm going to be the one shooting you. Just saying." She giggled. It was evident that they were now in her comfort zone.
"Aren't you going to wear any gear?" She asked him, raising an eyebrow at his naked clothes. "I don't know if you've noticed before, but paintball hurts." she winked.

"I do like pizza..." Claire mused thoughtfully, and Sloan raised an eyebrow as he waited for her agreement. "You know what, Terse? It's on."
"Yeah," He jeered, "I knew I could count you in."
He grinned, and flashed a wink as he loaded his gun, then tossed the tub of paintballs to Claire.
"And you're lucky that you have me as a team mate." She went on, grinning, "I've got years of cadet training to kick ass with. But if we lose, I'm going to be the one shooting you. Just saying."
"Right back at you, sister." Sloan shot back, "Except for the cadet shit," He laughed, "But lucky for me, I was born to kick ass." And I've only been playing this game for like, ten years...
Sloan sure did love his paintball.
He hoisted his gun over his shoulder, and was about to head out when Claire asked, "Aren't you going to wear any gear? I don't know if you've noticed before, but paintball hurts."
Sloan shrugged, and replied simply, "I don't intend to get hit."
He shot his 'teammate' a cocky wink, then strode out onto the 'battlefield', ready for action. The place was crawling with a dozen different teams, from overly-enthusiastic old-timers flaunting fancy equipment and poor skills, to youths fuelled by teenage angst, firing paintballs like they were trapped in some sort of crazy Viet Nam flashback.
Sloan laughed out loud, sounding faintly evil, and took a few shooters out with some well-aimed shots before they had noticed him. Then the rain of bullets turned on him, and he cursed and dived sideways, laughing to himself as he hid behind a wooden barricade, shielding himself from the onslaught. He beckoned for Claire to follow him, then leaned around the side and fired a few quick shots before hiding again.
"Got a strategy?" He asked breathlessly as she joined him, "'Cause I generally don't think much further than 'shoot the f*ck out of those assholes'."

Claire watched him with a raised eyebrow as he wandered into the battlefield, armed with his paintball gun, and she shoved on her helmet and followed him, holding her gun to her chest.
They approached the grounds with very different statures; Claire dived for the nearest cover, planning to keep as subtle as possible so that they could remain unseen until they found the best cover, and Sloan just strolled in and started shooting madly at whoever came into view. Claire rolled her eyes at him, pinning herself to a tree, and glared at him. What the Hell was he doing?
Naturally he blew their cover, and a sea of paint bullets splashed around them.
"Got a strategy? Cause I generally don't think much further than 'shoot the f*ck out of those assholes'."
"I can tell." She grumbled, shaking her head at his gesture to follow. Spreading themselves out would make it harder to make themselves targets. If they remained in the same spot they'd get hit eventually.
"Lay on your stomach and shoot that way. If you go sideways you're only going to make yourself obvious. It's harder to aim at a smaller target, especially for people who are far away." She told him matter-of-factly, falling onto her knees and then rolling onto her stomach. "I'm hungry, and I want pizza. Just do as I say and I'll let you have some when we win." She grinned at him.
"Right..." She aimed her weapon at a nearby foe and hit him expertly in the back. "We need to avoid that hut in the middle, if we get there that's just asking to be ambushed. Keep to the perimeter, use only reliable objects as cover. Oh, and be careful who you shoot at. Pick on the older guys first, they won't be as athletic as us, and try not to shoot at the younger ones yet. Don't want to make 'em angry." She shuddered. "We'll start off going from tree to tree. I'll go first so that we're at different sides of the field, and we'll work our way in. When we have them cornered, then we can shoot the f*ck out of those assholes." She winked.

Sloan listened to Claire's advice, which was not particularly easy for him, given his independent nature, but he had to admit that she made a valid point. Then again, shooting from a lying down position made far less sense for him, since it would take him far too long to get up if he was ambushed, what with his leg and all.
But the rest of Claire's plan made perfect sense to him, and he had no complaints about following it.
"We'll start off going from tree to tree." She finished at last, "I'll go first so that we're at different sides of the field, and we'll work our way in. When we have them cornered, then we can shoot the f*ck out of those assholes."
"Sounds delightlful!" Sloan replied, grinning darkly and raising his gun.
He waited for Claire to dart off in one direction, and then he took the other. This time he used a little more strategy, and lay low until he had reached the cover of the next tree. Then he crouched down, peering past the tree, and fired a few surprisingly skillful shots at some of the older men, causing them to grumble loudly and throw up their arms like sulky toddlers. He snickered to himself, then darted to the next tree, managing to scramble behind it just in time to avoid an attack from a nearby team of teenagers.
"Damn punks." Sloan snarled under his breath, keeping dead still behind the tree. Claire could take them. They were focused on him, after all...

Claire let out a menacing bark of laughter as they both leapt into action, and sprinted around the perimeter of the field, dodging the attacks as they came her way. She could hear Sloan shooting out into the middle just as they'd planned and grinned to herself. If they won this match, she may reconsider her hatred towards him.
She reached a wall of sandbags opposite Sloan's hiding spot and fell onto her knees, crouching behind her cover. The majority of those who'd noticed her had now either been shot or were concentrating on someone else, so she could then focus on helping Sloan out.
She peeped around the cover and studied the scene. Sloan was being bullied a bit by those teenagers, but it was his own fault for blowing their cover in the first place. She contemplated leaving him to suffer, but then she remembered the pizza, and leapt into action.

After a long, treacherous battle she and Sloan were crowned winners and, as promised, were rewarded the vouchers they had been fighting for. The two shrugged off their gear and headed back to the Jeep - Claire clutching the vouchers as if her life depended on them. She was buzzing after that new experience, since she'd never been paintballing before, and she had to admit that she really loved playing army games.
She was so giddy when she got to the Jeep she nearly contemplated leaping up onto the bonnet and jumping up and down on it, but that would probably dent the poor thing, so she resulted to leaning back on it and laughing menacingly to herself.
"My God, that was awesome..." She panted, grinning from ear-to-ear. "We really kicked their asses, didn't we? Did you see those teenage twins? I swear one of them was about to cry when I shot him in the shin..." She giggled. "And, well, you were alright too." She winked at Sloan, then turned back to the Jeep door and jumped in so enthusiastically that it shook at the impact. "Congratulations, Terse. You're officially out of 'Don't Care If They Burn In Hell' zone." She added coolly. "In fact, take me for pizza and you're out of the 'Hate' zone altogether." She grinned, although it was obvious she no longer hated him anyway.
Why he'd brought her here, she didn't know. But after seeing this side of him she had to admit that besides the stupid self-pityful side to him, plus the side that hurt Dane many times, he was actually an alright guy.

Sloan walked beside Claire back to the Jeep, grinning victoriously to himself, and sipping from a can of cheap, piss-warm beer. He drained it, then crushed the can easily between his palms and tossed it into a trash can on his way to the Jeep. When he reached his vehicle, Claire was already leaning against the bonnet, enthusing about their victory.
Sloan chuckled appreciatively to himself as he climbed into the Jeep, swiping his fringe away from his sweaty forehead. After a moment Claire joined him, and he cast her a smile as she said enthusiastically, "Congratulations, Terse. You're officially out of 'Don't Care If They Burn In Hell' zone. In fact, take me for pizza and you're out of the 'Hate' zone altogether."
"What's with the sweet talk?" He asked, grinning teasingly, "Don't go turning soft on me, now; otherwise I'll have to find a new paintball partner, and God knows I can't take Dane." He snickered to himself, and shook his head in fond amusement at the thought of taking his boyfriend paintballing. Dane would probably start crying the second he got shot, and Sloan would probably end up getting them thrown out for beating the shit out of whoever caused it.
He glanced at his watch, then turned back to Claire and said, "We're gonna run late if we stop for pizza, but I'll help you finish up at the stables to make up for it if you like. You should still finish on time."
He shifted his Jeep into reverse, and pulled out onto the road, heading toward the nearest Pizza Hut.
"Y'know, I've gotta say..." He muttered, quickly checking his rear view mirror as he switched lanes, "I'm glad we did this. I've always been a bit of a tool to you, to say the least." He snorted in amusement, shaking his head at himself. That was the understatement of the century. "It's about time I tried to redeem myself a little."
At least, he hoped he'd managed to redeem himself. He was certainly a hell of a better man than he had been during his last encounter with Claire... That was embarrassing even to think about. What she must have thought of him, he shuddered to think.
"Okay," He said, pulling up outside the pizza place at last, "We're here." He turned off the radio, and climbed out of the Jeep, waiting for Claire to follow before he locked it.
They went inside, found a table, and sat down, and Sloan instantly started poring over the menu.
"Who the f*ck has anchovies on a pizza?" He muttered to himself, wrinkling his nose in disgust. He scanned the list of toppings, and eventually decided on something called the 'Meaty Special', topped with bacon, ham, and salami.
"What're you having?" He asked, glancing up at Claire, "I'll pay for drinks."

The sweet look from Claire's face turned to a silky smile, although she didn't look too pleased. He was right, she was being too nice. Heaven forbid, really... A world where she was nice to the Terse was a world wrecked by fire and ice, and was not worth living in.
She smirked at him. "Fine. Get me pizza and I won't punch your crotch. How's that, lover boy?"
But he wasn't listening. "We're gonna run late if we stop for pizza, but I'll help you finish up at the stables to make up for it if you like. You should still finish on time."
Screw work. She wanted pizza.
"Wait, what?" She raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. Something seriously wasn't right here. He was being overly nice to her, and she didn't like it. At least if he was being an ass she'd know exactly how to react. "Sloan-"
"Y'know, I've gotta say... I'm glad we did this. I've always been a bit of a tool to you, to say the least. It's about time I tried to redeem myself a little."
Oh... That was why he was being so nice? Fair enough. She liked that, it meant she was the powerful one here. For the next couple of hours he was at her disposal, which she could get used to. Shrugging, she rolled down the Jeep window and nodded in agreement. Seemed legitimate, anyway.
They drove for a while until Sloan stopped outside the pizza place, and Claire jumped excitedly out even before the Jeep had stopped moving, and strolled into the cheap restaurant with her hands in her pockets. "Hurry up, Terse!" She called, "I'm starving!"
They found a table and sat opposite one another, frowning thoughtfully at the menu.
"Who the f*ck has anchovies on a pizza?"
"God knows." Claire replied, not taking her eyes on the menu. After a while she made her choice and sat back, waiting for him to finish looking. When he asked her what she wanted, then added that he'd pay for drinks, she scowled at him.
"I'm not your date, Terse." She snapped. "I can pay for my own drink." She glanced back down at the menu, her frown slackening slightly. She got pretty desperate when she was hungry. "I'll have the spicy chicken and tomato with a side of chips, thanks."

They made their order and waited impatiently for the food to arrive. By the time it did Claire's foot was twitching towards Sloan's crotch in irritation, even though he hadn't done anything, but when she saw the food her face lit up.
After a few minutes of quiet eating, Claire looked up, picking at a tomato, and asked casually "So..." She popped the tomato in her mouth. "Are you and Dane using condoms?"
See how he handles THAT... She thought deviously to herself.

"I'm not your date, Terse." Claire snapped. "I can pay for my own drink."
"Oh, excuse me." He retorted, raising his hands in mock surrender, "And here I seem to remember you saying something along the lines of 'you'd better be paying'."
He flashed a good-natured wink, then waved over a waiter to take their orders.
A short while later, the pizza arrived, and Sloan bit hungrily into the gooey cheese, wolfing it down with enthusiasm.
He was half way through his second piece when Claire dropped her little 'question bomb'.
"So..." She asked casually, "Are you and Dane using condoms?"
Without missing a beat, or so much as looking up from his food, Sloan replied casually, "Mmhm. Flavoured ones."
Claire was obviously just asking the question to make him uncomfortable, but two could play at that game, and unfortunately for her, he was good at it.
He took a sip of his water, then glanced up at Claire to flash her a cheeky wink, letting her know that he was teasing.
"So," He said, wiping his mouth and considering her curiously, "What about you? You got a special fella in your life?"
He realised that he might have been coming across slightly flirtatious, but he decided that he didn't give a crap. Claire knew that he was gay, and he couldn't help it anyway. 'Flirty' was his default setting.
He picked up another slice of his pizza, and nibbled unconcernedly at it as he waited for Claire's response.

Claire wasn't expecting Sloan to take offense or act too taken aback by her question, she only wanted to ask him out of playfulness and because Dane would have totally freaked out if she'd asked him. However, she was not expecting - or hoping for - the answer she was given.
"Mmhm. Flavoured ones."
She nearly choked on a piece of chicken. All sorts of unwelcome images entered her mind and she had to scrunch her eyes closed to shove them away again.
This man had corrupted her Dane. Even worse, he'd now corrupted her. Her mind, anyway.
Thanks for that, asshole.
Oh well, she'd been asking for it.
She took a swig of her drink to keep from choking again and glared up at him, just catching him as he winked cheekily at her, and she relaxed slightly. The bastard was only playing with her.
"So... What about you? You got a special fella in your life?"
She eyeballed him or a moment, wondering whether he was trying it on with her, then shook her head at the idea. He was a good looking guy, maybe. But she wasn't the sort to be wooed easily, especially since he was going out with Dane. Shrugging, she replied "Yes," then grinned deviously to herself.
"He's called Marcus. And Sloan..." She squirmed like a love-struck school girl, giggling to herself. "You should see him, he's beautiful! Everything I've ever wanted. It took me a while to find him, I admit. I've been looking for quite a while for a special boy like him. He's tall, dark, really really muscular..." She sighed dramatically. "And so polite. He's never stepped out of line all the time I've had him. And he's a handsome lad, too. Gorgeous brown eyes..." She grinned. "And I ride him every night." She squirmed again. "Every. Single. Night." Her eyebrows wiggled in a somewhat sexy fashion. "And he's so gentle when I do. Some can be a bit jerky and moody if they don't get their own way, but he's so... Smooth."
She winked at Sloan, then took an innocent sip of her drink.

Sloan snickered when Claire nearly choked in response to his teasing. He had got her with that one.
But when he asked if she had a man in her life, he had to admit that he was surprised to hear her answer 'Yes'.
He glanced up curiously at her, setting his glass of water down on the table, and listened as she told him about the great 'Marcus'.
"You should see him," She enthused, "He's beautiful! Everything I've ever wanted. It took me a while to find him, I admit. I've been looking for quite a while for a special boy like him. He's tall, dark, really really muscular..."
As Claire went on, a knowing smirk settled on Sloan's face, and he folded his arms to listen to her, nodding patiently until she had finished. He raised his eyebrows when she went on about 'riding' this fella, putting on an appropriately surprised expression at her openness, even though he had caught on a while back.
When she was done, he took a dignified sip of his water, then set it back down and asked with a smirk, "Marcus is a horse, isn't he?" He chuckled appreciatively, shaking his head in amusement at Claire. He had to admit, she had a decent sense of humour on her. Much like his, actually.
"Well," He added, grinning, "I definitely want to meet this 'Smooth steed' of yours."
He drained the last of his water, and set the glass down beside his empty plate, glancing at his watch.
"You ready to get a move-on?" He asked, "I don't mind helping out at the stables, but I want to get back to Dane by 5 - otherwise he'll start flipping out, knowing him..." He smiled fondly, shaking his head. He loved Dane, but his boyfriend really did worry too much. Not that he blamed him, after everything they'd been through...

((Just skipping ahead now. XD ))

They soon left the pizza place, and headed back to the stables, where - as promised - Sloan spent the rest of the afternoon helping with Claire's work. Of course, he wasn't quite as helpful as he could have been, because instead of giving each horse a quick 30 minute work out, he'd find some sort of problem to fix, and spend a full hour getting the animal working to the best of its ability. He couldn't help it, he'd always been a persistent bugger. And it wasn't necessarily a bad thing...
Still, despite his perfectionist attitude he worked hard, and the work was finished by 4:30PM, leaving him just enough time to get back to Dane.
He checked his watch just after he'd finished untacking his last horse, and hurried off to find Claire before he left.
He was lucky enough to bump into her in the tack room when he was putting the horse's gear away, and he greeted her with a smile.
"I've gotta take off now." He said, sliding the saddle onto its rack and shaking out his stiff arms, "But I had fun today. Thanks for going along with me." He smiled charmingly, and leaned against the wall as he added, "Maybe next time I'll let you shoot me in the nuts, if you're good."
He flashed a teasing wink, then turned away and walked to the door, raising one hand in a backwards wave. "See ya!" He called over his shoulder.

It was just a little after 5 when Sloan got back home, and the first thing he noticed was that his father's things had been moved out of the guest room. That had been rather a short visit, but he was sure his old man had some sort of reason for taking off without saying goodbye. He was on the run, after all.
Shrugging, Sloan wandered out of the house and back to the stables in search of Dane, and finally found him in Archie's stall.
"Hello, handsome." He greeted him, leaning on the stable door with a sexy little smirk on his lips. He paused a moment, then added cheekily, "Hey Dane."

Claire's flirtatious expression sobered when Sloan easily picked up on her joke. Clever sod. She shook her head in amusement and giggled at him. "Well I don't know what you were thinking about. But, yes, Marcus is my Percheron crossbreed. Not like one of your fancy show horses, but certainly a gentleman." She grinned.
"Well, I definitely want to meet this 'Smooth steed' of yours."
"You can, if you want. He's a bit like Arch, actually. Not as fit, I admit." She shook her head. "But he's surprisingly balanced for a breed that's made for pulling carts."
They both finished their pizzas and drinks, then Sloan mentioned leaving and Claire nodded in agreement. She was slightly late for her afternoon shift, and she hoped to God that he kept his promise with helping her out. Even if it was just making sure every horse had some water and a haynet she'd be grateful, and would save her a lot of time.
"I don't mind helping out at the stables, but I want to get back to Dane by 5 - otherwise he'll start flipping out, knowing him..."
She nodded, and the protective bubble inside her for Dane relaxed. She'd always been worried that Sloan would hurt Dane, but it was obvious he'd never do it meaningfully. He cared for her friend. She knew that now.

The hours at the stables went quickly, and when Sloan found her she was sorting out the tack room, shoving a few rugs in the small washing machine in the corner.
He mentioned 'taking off' again, and she turned to him, leaving what she was doing. It was amazing that the man before her was one she'd hated for months and months for hurting Dane, so much that she'd wanting to smack him every single time they'd met face to face. But one game of paintball and a pizza later, she didn't hate him quite as much. Because now she realised how much Sloan loved Dane, and the next time he hurt her friend, even the tiniest bit, he would beat himself up for it. Perhaps he may need her help on that, but she'd at least treat him with some mercy, unlike before.
"Maybe next time I'll let you shoot me in the nuts, if you're good."
She laughed loudly. "Come on, like I'd need your consent if you pissed me off enough." She patted him in a brotherly way on the shoulder, and her smile relaxed slightly. "Thanks for helping me out. And taking me paintballing. I appreciate it."
No point thanking him for the pizza. She'd totally won that for them.
"I'll see you around." She was about to turn around and resume observing the washing machine, then seemed to remember something and turned back to him. "And Sloan? You'd better look after him, alright? Or else... Well, you know what." She winked.


*****


Dane was calmly brushing and bonding with Archie when someone appeared by the door. Archie noticed him first. He greeted Sloan with an unamused snort and swished his tail, then resumed nibbling at Dane's shirt, as he would with any horse if they'd been grooming him.
"Hello, handsome."
Dane looked down, his cheeks blushing slightly. It was amusing to think small, simple comments like that still got to him.
"Hi-"
"Hey Dane."
He narrowed his eyes and sulked, shooting Sloan a look. "That's it. I'm so not sleeping naked for you tonight." He chuckled and finished brushing Archie over and dropped the brush in his grooming kit, then picked it up and headed to the stable door.
Instead of unbolting the door and walking out, however, he leant coolly against it, mirroring his boyfriend's stance and leaning forward so their faces were dangerously close.
"How was your day?" Dane muttered, pressing his brow fondly against Sloan's.

Sloan just grinned at Dane's retort, obviously unconcerned. He watched as his boyfriend finished grooming Archie, waiting his turn, until at last Dane put down the brush and approached him, stopping at the stable door. "How was your day?" He asked, and Sloan smiled, leaning happily into the pressure of Dane's forehead against his.
"It was good." He replied simply, "I saw the horses, they're all looking good. I had a ride on Sasha." He gave Dane a peck on the lips, then unbolted the stable door and tugged his boyfriend out, shutting it behind him.
"It's my turn now." He explained simply, "He's had you all day." He nodded toward Archie to demonstrate, and stuck out his tongue when the gelding snorted at him.
He slung an arm over Dane's shoulders and kissed his hair fondly, then began walking back toward the house; it was getting chilly to be outside without a jacket, anyway.
"How were the beasts?" He asked, yawning, "I don't suppose anybody dared to let Midnight out while I was gone?"

((I want to keep it rolling, so just going on ahead. XD ))

They went back inside, and Sloan busied himself cooking supper (which basically involved shoving a box into a microwave, though he still took full credit for it.) and listening to the news on TV. He pretended to give a shit about all the people killed in hurricane 'Whatever-crazy-bitch's-name-they're-using-this-time', but honestly, he really didn't.
Around ten minutes later, Sloan served up some microwave lasagne onto a couple of plates, one of which he gave to Dane, and the other he polished off himself within the next ten minutes.
He helped himself to some milk from the fridge - drinking shamelessly out of the carton - then trotted back to the couch, where Dane was just finishing his dinner, and flopped down beside his boyfriend.
He pretended to watch TV for a while, looking painfully bored, then rolled his head around to stare at Dane. "You know I'm waiting for my kiss, right?" He asked expectantly, "I haven't seen you all day, you ungrateful, antisocial bastard."

((Isn't he sweet? XD ))

Dane nodded at Sloan's reply, glad to hear that the horses at the other stables were doing well. He had to admit he missed them, especially Sasha. She'd been doing well up until he left, and he just hoped Claire was continuing her training so that his work hadn't gone to waste. She had a while to go until she could win any medals, but he knew she had potential. She was certainly athletic enough.
"It's my turn now. He's had you all day."
Dane chuckled to himself, then shrugged. "Fair enough."
When Sloan asked him about what had gone on, and at the mention of Midnight Dane shuddered. He was still recovering from when that monster had barged into his house and threatened to destroy the place. Of course no one was stupid enough to let him loose after that incident.
"Nah," He shook his head. "I had Archie doing some bounces, the grey mare's now able to trot circles - both fifteen and twenty metres - and I managed to ride the bay up the fields bareback without him trying to throw me off. All in all, I'd say that's a pretty good day." He chuckled, then kissed Sloan's cheek fondly as they set back towards the house.

Sloan made dinner - or more like 'heated it up' - and the two sat down on the sofa and ate whilst watching TV. Dane took considerably longer to eat than Sloan because he preferred to chew his food, and afterwards he went and washed his dishes.
When he came back and snuggled beside his boyfriend, Sloan turned to him and muttered sulkily, "You know I'm waiting for my kiss, right? I haven't seen you all day, you ungrateful, antisocial bastard."
He giggled in an innocent schoolgirl fashion and pulled up his feet onto his seat. "I'm sorry." He muttered, although he obviously wasn't. He then snuggled Closer to his boyfriend, angling his head lazily so that his lips brushed against Sloan's throat. He then shifted around and kissed slowly, sweetly up the man's jaw, to his chin, then to his lips. By the time he reached there he pecked them once, then pulled away and slumped lazily back against Sloan's body, falling back onto his lap.
"If you want more than that you'll have to impress me, Romeo."
He stretched his arms and folded them them behind his head, grinning smugly up at Sloan with twinkling eyes.

Sloan grunted in a satisfied fashion when he felt Dane's lips at his throat ((Totally doesn't make him sound like a vampire. XD )) and angled his head obligingly to allow himself to be kissed. He closed his eyes in contentment, clearly enjoying being pampered, until Dane gave him one short peck on the lips, and then left him hanging.
After a moment of waiting, Sloan opened his eyes and looked at his boyfriend, rather sulky and disgruntled.
"If you want more than that you'll have to impress me, Romeo." Dane teased, and Sloan rolled his eyes in response, trying hard to hide his amused smirk.
"Hmmm..." He mused sarcastically, "Now how the f*ck am I going to do that? It's not like I can just snap my fingers and conjure up some sort of sexy beast."
He paused a moment, pretending to mull it over, then snapped his fingers in realisation and added, "Oh, that's right!" He shrugged off his shirt, then rolled it into a ball and pressed the arm material against Dane's chest.
"I can." He purred, flashing a devilishly handsome crooked grin.
"Is that 'impressive' enough for you...?" He grinned, then added teasingly, "Juliet."

"Now how the f*ck am I going to do that? It's not like I can just snap my fingers and conjure up some sort of sexy beast."
Dane snorted up at his boyfriend. They both knew Sloan was very capable of turning into a 'sexy beast' as quick as a snap of the fingers.
He shuffled out of the way as Sloan shrugged off his shirt and tossed it at Dane, who caught it clumsily and felt the heat radiate through his shirt to his chest.
"Is that 'impressive' enough for you...?" Sloan purred, the very sight of him sending Dane's insides to mush. He really was a strikingly handsome man. Until, that is, he added, "Juliet."
Dane pouted his lower lip in mock hurt, not once lowering his arms from behind his head. "You're mean," he whinged in a childish fashion, reaching up and prodding Sloan on the nose. Although it is kind of accurate... He paused for thought, then shrugged and sat up, shuffling on Sloan's lap, not really caring that he was a lot heavier than a toddler. He then turned round so he was facing his boyfriend then placed a knee on either side of his boyfriend's hips and glared down at him.
So this is what it's like to be tall, he thought to himself deviously.
"I quite like this," He murmured as he ran his hands sensually around Sloan's bare shoulders, then to the back of his neck, playing with a thick strand of hair on the back of his head. "This'll do." He grinned and bowed his head, kissing Sloan's brow, then began to pet and caress Sloan's scalp as he knew his boyfriend liked it.

Sloan cackled evilly at Dane's response, his lips still locked in that devilish grin when Dane shifted on his lap. He placed his hands automatically on his boyfriends hips, looking almost inappropriately pleased with himself. Not just in the moment, but in general. He had gained a remarkable amount of confidence recently, and barely a shadow of his insecurities remained.
"I quite like this," Dane murmured as he straddled him, and Sloan suddenly found himself looking up at his boyfriend. He raised an eyebrow lazily, and rolled his shoulders when he felt Dane's hands slide over his skin. "This'll do." He moaned when he felt Dane's fingers tugging gently at his hair, and relaxed instantly, like one of those old collapsible toys. His eyes closed, his head lolled forward, and he went completely limp, blissfully enjoying his boyfriend's petting.
"Mmm..." He mumbled, flopping his head against Dane's chest. He looked like he was about to start purring.
He just lay there, totally relaxed and in seventh heaven, like an overworked housewife in a spa.
"Words can't express how much I love you right now." He mumbled, his voice muffled by Dane's shirt, which was now covering his entire face. Not that he cared. Who needed to breathe, anyway? He could have died perfectly happily right then rather than move an inch.
With his eyes closed he could hear Dane's delicate breathing, feel his loving caress, and smell the belovedly familiar scent of his aftershave wafting around him; and with the entirety of his being, he could not even begin to picture a more perfect moment, or a more perfect life. He had all he had ever wanted, and all he would ever need, right there with him... And it felt pretty darn good.
He felt his lips twitch into a smile, and fondness for his boyfriend squeezed at his heart. Pampered as he was, it seemed that even his personality softened, and in some deep-set corner of his mind, he began to see his boyfriend in a totally new light; a light he had never really seen anybody in before. He could not quite explain it, but the feeling it brought took 'love' to a whole new extreme.
And honestly, he wasn't even scared. Not even a little bit. Dane had taken him beyond all that.

Dane felt Sloan's shoulders relax completely at his touch and smiled warmly to himself. He knew he had that effect on his boyfriend, just as Sloan made Dane's heart thump at the very sight of him. He knew his boyfriend liked to be pet like a cat, it was one of the adorable things Dane loved about the man, and he enjoyed watching him purr.
He lessed the caress to nothing more than the fingertips to the point of Sloan's head after a while and just hovered over Sloan's lap, half sat, half knelt, holding Sloan's head to his chest and feeling the man's hot breath through his shirt. A tiny smile tugged up his lips.
"Words can't express how much I love you right now."
His heart leapt at this, and he felt a strange aching in his eyes that threatened tears if he didn't catch them before they fell. He knew Sloan loved him, as he'd said time and again, but this was one of those times when he could really feel how much Sloan meant it. It was like his heart had suddenly become whole after years of emptiness and sorrow. Now was one of the times when he wondered how the Hell he'd survived before Sloan, before moments like this when he could forget about everything in the world but his boyfriend.
He clutched Sloan's head tighter and bowed his own, gently kissing Sloan's hair. "I love you too." He whispered, unable to raise his voice in fear of crying.
He felt Sloan's body turn heavier beneath him and his eyes softened fondly. "Hey," He tapped Sloan's head gently, running his hand over the man's jawline to his chin, lifting his head up so they met eyes. "Don't go all sleepy on me." He grinned, biting his lip cheekily, and kissed the man briefly on the lips. "I'm not having you fall asleep before the fun's even began." He purred, cupping Sloan's face in his hands.

"I love you too." Dane whispered softly in response, and there was such sheer emotion in his voice that Sloan felt the words jolt right through him. A tiny smiled formed on his lips, then pulled wider and wider at the corners, so by the time Dane lifted his chin, he was grinning. He met his boyfriend's gaze with shining eyes, and gladly accepted his kiss, looking as though nothing could have made him happier.
"Don't go all sleepy on me." Dane scolded, "I'm not having you fall asleep before the fun's even began."
"Wouldn't dream of it." He replied, shuffling back slightly to straighten himself on the couch. He leaned in closer to Dane, and grasped his chin delicately between thumb and forefinger. He considered Dane a moment, just smiling sweetly, then shrugged and muttered cheekily, "Oh, screw it."
And then the 'loving' moment was apparently over, because without so much as a word of warning, Sloan had tackled Dane off his lap and onto the floor.
He landed with a grunt on top of his boyfriend, and with a devious, predatory grin and perhaps even a bit of a snarl, Sloan was kissing him viciously, pinning him down with a hand on his chest.
"'The Hell're you wearing this for?" He grunted, pulling away just far enough to grab a handful of Dane's shirt, and pull an utterly disgusted face, "Get rid of it." He demanded, tugging incessantly at his boyfriend's clothes, "It's blocking my view, and I do not approve."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Sloan replied cheekily, and Dane giggled at the excited look on his boyfriend's face. It was elating to think that he'd caused that grin. He'd made his boyfriend smile so wide. And what had he done? Loved him, that's all.
He narrowed his eyes contently as he felt fingers trickle over his jawline,raising his chin happily like a cat having it's chin scratched, murmuring in approval. Then, with a jolt, he felt himself being rolled onto the floor and on his back, and Sloan's face morphed into the ceiling.
He was about to snap a curse in surprise when Sloan's face appeared in front of him again, and he realised exactly what was going on. His boyfriend had gone into 'sexy beast' mode. At last.
He squeaked a laugh at the sudden change in his boyfriend's features, but it didn't get very far when a mouth gagged him momentarily, and the next thing he knew he was being kissed.
Automatically he found himself squirming at the ferocity of it, making him feel like it was almost invading his mouth, but he supposed that was the idea, and the hand clamped over his chest kept him from running anyway. He grunted, but when Sloan pulled away from him he felt himself stunned into silence at the dominant glare he was met with.
"'The Hell're you wearing this for?" Sloan scolded harshly, scrunching Dane's shirt up in his palm and yanking it upwards. "Get rid of it. It's blocking my view, and I do not approve."
"I'm sorry." Dane mumbled, like he had anything to apologise for. He couldn't help it, Sloan looked scary when he was this horny, and he knew it well. Obediently Dane yanked his arms out of the arm holes on his shirt and wriggled awkwardly out of it, setting it limp on his stomach like he was too scared to move any more. He looked shyly up at his boyfriend, as if he was scared Sloan might eat him, and bit nervously on his lower lip.
What's he going to do? He wondered, his heart fluttering anxiously at the possibilities of this. Then, when he realised how nervous he was he giggled loudly. Honestly, anyone would think Sloan was going to hurt him! This made him laugh more. He couldn't help it. The thought was incredulous!
"Any better?" he asked his boyfriend, eyes wide with feigned innocence, as he trailed a single finger down the centre of Sloan's toned chest.

"Much better." Sloan praised, flashing a toothy grin, and planting an approving peck on Dane's forehead. His boyfriend's finger trailing down his chest made him shudder, and he shifted back slightly, giving Dane room to sit up.
"C'mere." He mumbled, grabbing Dane's arm to pull him upright. He stood awkwardly, dragging Dane with him, and once he had straightened up, he pulled a pained face. "Oooow." He groaned, "That's gonna bruise... Please remind me not to tackle you onto the floor in future." He paused, then added with a somewhat hopeful expression, "Unless you're into that shit, in which case I'll gladly do it again. Like, right now."
He grinned teasingly, and leaned in to kiss Dane again, with slightly less aggression than before.
When he broke away he considered his boyfriend for a moment, then scratched his stubbled chin casually.
"Wanna f*ck?" He suggested, utterly shameless, as ever. Then, with a deviously cheeky grin, he added, "Maybe I'll let you be on top this time."

Dane grunted as he sat up, his backside aching from the pressure of the hard floor then took Sloan's hand as they both yanked each other to their feet. He was still giggling slightly at the butterflies in his stomach, and he felt oddly naked without his shirt on. At least, more than he usually did when he was shirtless. He guessed that, too, was the point.
"That's gonna bruise... Please remind me not to tackle you onto the floor in future. Unless you're into that shit, in which case I'll gladly do it again. Like, right now." Dane blushed. He had to admit he did rather like it, but he didn't want to suffer the humiliation of telling his boyfriend that, so he didn't say anything.
Thankfully Sloan turned to kiss him then, and Dane did so obediently, folding his hands around Sloan's waist and threading his fingers around the belt rings on his trousers.
When Sloan pulled away, however, he asked Dane the most unromantic question he'd ever heard. "Wanna f*ck?"
Dane laughed out loud. There was no point complaining about his boyfriend's choice of words, since they were probably the best he was going to get with Sloan in this mood.
"Maybe I'll let you be on top this time."
Dane considered this with a thoughtful cock of his head, then bit his lip with a cheeky smile and muttered, "Maybe I don't wanna be on top." He winked flirtatiously. That would be all the hints Sloan was going to get, so Dane hoped he'd picked up on it.
"Come on, Sloany!" He jeered, grabbing the man's hand and heading joyfully to the bedroom.

About an hour later the two were laying breathlessly on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, both with tousled, messed up hair and both grinning stupidly at the memories of the last hour. Dane sighed contently and turned towards his boyfriend, curling up under the covers, and rested his head gently on Sloan's chest.
"Well... That was exceptional." He teased cheekily, twirling a finger in a small circle around Sloan's navel.

Sloan was lying back with his arms folded behind his head, staring up at the ceiling with obvious satisfaction. He glanced down when he felt Dane's head on his chest, and snorted in amusement when he heard Dane's teasing voice say, "Well... That was exceptional."
"'Course it was." Sloan shot back unconcernedly, "Look who you're tellin'." He smirked cockily, and ruffled Dane's hair as though to say 'You're welcome'. He was clearly rather pleased with himself, and he didn't seem to care who knew it, either.

After a while Sloan drifted off to sleep, but he was awoken in the young hours of the morning by a knock at the front door. He blinked sleepily, then grumbled mutinously to himself as he sat up - careful not to wake Dane - and quietly fastened on his prosthetic leg and tugged on some clothes before getting up.
The knock came again, and he cursed under his breath, tiptoeing out of the room so as not to wake his sleeping boyfriend. Luckily, Dane seemed to have been f*cked into a coma.
Sloan allowed himself a slight smirk, then went on to open the front door.
He was met by a stranger's face, standing on his doormat and shining a torch into his face.
"Can I help you?" He asked tiredly, frowning and rubbing at his eyes as the torchlight blinded him.
"Are you Sloan Terse?" The stranger grunted.
"Yeah. Why the f*ck are you showing up here in the middle of the night?"
"Son of Charles Terse?"
"I really think we should focus on the whole, 'Why the f*ck are you here-"
"Son of Charles Terse?" The man asked again, cutting Sloan off angrily, and fixing him with an aggressive glare.
"Yes." Sloan replied sulkily, "Now if you could just f*ck off, that'd be great..."
He yawned grumpily and turned away, trying to close the door behind him. When he was supposed to feel it slam shut, however, he felt it catch on the stranger's shoe instead, and suddenly the situation just wasn't funny any more.
"Get the f*ck out of my house." Sloan snarled, "Before I f*cking make you."
He noticed a muscle twitch in the stranger's jaw, and suddenly the atmosphere was rigid with tension. Hackles were rising on either side.
"Mister Terse," The stranger said crisply, "Please tell me where to find your father."
"As it I'd tell you, dickhead." Sloan huffed, clearly getting angry now, "Just piss off, before I call the f*cking cops on your ass."
"Sloan," He repeated crisply, "Your father's whereabouts, please."
"No." Sloan set his jaw stubbornly, "Why should I f*cking tell you?"
This seemed to amuse the stranger, because he laughed then - a horrible, gravelly sound - and replied with a grin, "Well, because I assume you don't want to die, Mister Terse." His teeth glinted as he grinned, and in a flash Sloan found himself with a gun at his head. He didn't feel quite as confident as he had a moment ago...
"Let's try this once more." The stranger said patiently, smiling now, "Where can I find your father?"
The gun pressed more firmly against Sloan's head, and he swallowed nervously.
"I don't-" He broke off, swallowed, and moistened his lips. Suddenly his mouth felt dry.
"I don't know." He choked, and next thing he knew there was an angry growl, a sharp pain on his head, and everything went black.

Out cold, Sloan had no memory of being dragged out of his house or thrown in a car, but when he woke he found himself somewhere far from home, and judging by the nature of the dark, dreary place, he had a feeling that he would not easily be able to leave.
His first thought was of Dane... That he had vanished in the night without even so much as a note to lay his boyfriend's mind at rest. No doubt he would be panicking, the worrywart.
Sloan chuckled to himself under his breath, and he was shocked by how loud the quiet sound was in his dingy 'cell'. It occurred to him to phone Dane, but when he tried to reach for his phone, he came to a very unsettling conclusion: he couldn't move an inch.
A less foggy observation of his situation shoved him that he was tied to a chair, bound tightly by thick ropes, and with his hands and feet tied for good measure.
He had a bad feeling about this... A very bad feeling.
He wondered what time it was, and if Dane would be awake. Would he notice that the man he loved was missing? Would he think Sloan had just run off again?
He swallowed, shrinking into himself as the darkness seemed to press harder from all sides.
From some timid corner of his mind, and unwelcome voice piped up to remind him that, should the worst happen, he had not so much as said goodbye to his boyfriend...
What the f*ck is going on?!

Dane chuckled at Sloan's answer, although he had no objection for it. Sloan was right. "Oh yeah, I forgot. You're a real sex bomb." He replied cheekily, only half joking, and snuggled up to his boyfriend, pulling the covers further over them both.
"G'night, mate." He murmured, kissing Sloan's neck as if to say 'thank you', and slumped an arm around Sloan's stomach. With a happy sigh he drifted gently off to sleep.

He must have been tired, because when Sloan got up to answer the door Dane didn't stir, nor did he hear his boyfriend slump lifelessly to the floor in the next room. In fact, it wasn't until 7.45 the next morning that he awoke, and even then it took him a while to realise something was wrong.
Sloan wasn't in bed, so Dane figured he was either making breakfast or was already at the stables. Sloan was never usually at the stables this early as he wasn't a morning person, but it was he only logical reason Dane could think of for why his boyfriend wasn't around.
He showered, dressed, and stuffed a croissant down his throat before he went out to muck out some stalls. He realised almost immediately that Sloan wasn't around.

Growing slightly worried at this, he went back to the house to see if he'd missed a note on the table, where Sloan usually leaves them. No luck. He then tried out Sloan's phone, but got no answer. He tried again and again, growing more and more anxious at every voicemail he got. The number you've called is unavailable. Please leave your message after the tone...
The number you've called is unavailable. Please leave your message after the tone...
The number you've called is unavailable. Please leave your message after the tone...
After the fourth ring, he decided his boyfriend wasn't going to pick up, so instead of hanging up and ringing him again, he left his own message. He sat down on one of the dining chairs and hunched over himself, resting his elbows on his knees, and frowned at the floor. Something was wrong. Seriously wrong.
The number you've called is unavailable. Please leave your message after the tone... BEEEEEEP. "Mate," he began, then cleared his dry throat. "Mate, where are you? Why aren't you answering?" He paused for a moment and sighed. "If this is about your dad, I'm sorry. I should have stopped him from leaving. He didn't say he was going when he did, and he was really quiet packing. But if you want me to find him for you I can give it a go. I haven't checked the guest room yet, he might have left something. A note, maybe? I'm sure he wouldn't just up and leave without letting you know he was going. Just-..." He scrunched his eyes closed. "Call me. Please. At least give me that. I'm worried about you..." He sighed again. "And if you've just gone on an early morning ride I swear to God I'll kill you." He sighed a laugh. "Love you." Then he hung up.
That was the best he could do, but if Sloan didn't reply soon Dane was definite that he'd have to call the police. Where are you, Sloan?

"Oh." A cold voice said, and Sloan jumped at the sudden disruption of his quiet world, "So you're awake?" There came the creaking sound of somebody getting up from a chair across the room, and suddenly the beam of a flashlight blinded him.
Sloan grunted, and he felt fear rising rapidly in him, bubbling up in his chest to erupt in hot, molten anger.
"What the f*ck is going on here?" He raged, "This is a sick f*cking joke, you hear me?"
The voice chuckled quietly - a frustratingly calm, dignified sound - and Sloan growled under his breath when it answered him.
"You weren't being very helpful, Terse. We've brought you here to see if we can loosen your tongue."
There was silence a moment, then Sloan snarled, "Who the f*ck are you?"
"Oh, just some friends of your old man." He could hear the smile in the man's voice, and he wished that he could see his face, just so he could punch it in.
"We already asked you last night," the voice went on pleasantly, "But I think you'll understand better now how serious we are. Where is he, Sloan?"
"Bite me!" Sloan spat angrily in response, tensing against the ropes that held him still.
A mumble went around, and as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he realised that there was a single man facing him, his face hidden by a black balaclava, and his dark clothing blending with the gloom. Behind him were others, talking in hushed tones in the corner of the room, and simply watching the interrogation. Most of them were armed.
Sloan swallowed nervously.

"I'll ask you once more, Terse." His interrogator murmured softly, "Tell us where to find Charles. If you don't..." He cast a glance over his shoulder as his accomplices, "We might have try a new form of, uh..." Again, Sloan could hear him grin, "Encouragement..."
Sloan took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, and replied as calmly as he could, "I don't know where he is. He left without a word, and I don't f*cking know where he went! This isn't my f*cking problem - won't you just let me the f*ck go?"
He caught a hint of desperation in his voice, and cursed under his breath, wanting to kick himself for showing such weakness.
He didn't like this... He hated being scared and vulnerable. He just wanted to go home, home to Dane, where he was safe and loved.
He swallowed nervously, and with a jolt he realised that he just wasn't as brave as before. He had too much to lose now. He... He cared.
"Looks like our friend over here needs some encouragement, mates." The man in the balaclava said, turning to his accomplices, "Have at him."

Sloan looked up, eyes wide, and felt his heart leap into his throat as the group approached him, all clad in black, faces hidden, and with weapons in their hands.
This isn't happening. He told himself, feeling bile rise in his throat, and sweat spring to his forehead.
This isn't happening. It's not happening. It's not-
He uttered a grunt of pain when the first blow hit home - a baseball bat to the side of his head - and instantly his mouth filled with blood. He spat distastefully, just in time to feel a crowbar jab him savagely in the stomach.
He bit his lip to keep from crying out, but his heart was racing, and his eyes seared from the pain. But what hurt the most was the injustice of it all, and the cruel knowledge that, even if he wanted to, he couldn't give these men what they were searching for.
He wasn't lying... Why couldn't they believe that?

Blow after blow hit home, and tied as he was, Sloan could not so much as shield his face. He just bowed his head, lips contorted into a permanent grimace, and waited for it to stop.
When it finally did, he was barely consciousness, yet the interrogator still asked him again where to find his father.
Sloan just shook his head mutely, and with one final blow, the lights went out.

He woke to find himself in some sort of cell - though it seemed more like a cage to him - nestled in darkness and silence. He waited there for what might have been a minute or a month, all the while sweating, shaking, praying to no God in particular that he would somehow make it out alive.
After a while they came to fetch him, and the beating started all over again.
This process repeated itself so many times that he lost count entirely, and after nearly two weeks in that place, his hope was all but gone. As for his captors, well... Their patience was running thin. They grew tired of the stubbornness of their charge, and their desire for revenge on the one who had wronged them grew stronger by the day. They knew that Sloan knew where to find him - if only they could break him enough to make him talk...

((I'll finish off my twist in the next post. Figured I'd give Dane some more time to chill first. ))