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

Sloan managed to ignore Dane rather successfully at first - but once the covers were whipped off him, he couldn't pretend to sleep any longer.
He sat up abruptly when the cold air hit his bare skin, hugging his shoulders, and shooting Dane a withering glare as he jeered cheerfully about Sloan's nakedness.
"F*ck you." He snarled in response, grabbing the nearest blanket and tugging it half over him.
Undeterred, Dane just went right on lecturing him like a naughty child.
"Now, you can either get up now and put some clothes on, or I can stand here and stare at you and give your muffin away. Here's a hint: number one includes a kiss and a warm muffin, Number two includes no kiss and a muffin in a horse's - or my - mouth. Your choice."
He stared blankly at Dane for a long while, then his eyes slowly narrowed.
"Dane," He said calmly, his voice low and quiet, "After last night, I'll put as many f*cking muffins in my mouth as I damn well please. Now get the hell out." He flapped his hands at his boyfriend in a shooing fashion, "This ain't a show. I'll see you in the kitchen, and god help you if there isn't a huge-ass muffin and a kiss with extra f*cking tongue waiting for me."
He lobbed a pillow viciously at his boyfriend, then finally managed to heave himself out of bed to get ready, keeping the blanket wrapped warmly around him.

Dane raised his eyebrows, grinning angelically at his scowling boyfriend. Was Sloan alright? He looked a little cold...
"After last night, I'll put as many f*cking muffins in my mouth as I damn well please."
His eyebrows stretched higher, he folded his arms around his chest, shifting his weight again. Poor Sloany sounded like a naughty child, Dane had a feeling he may end up treating him more like one than he intended.
"Now get the Hell out. This ain't a show. I'll see you in the kitchen, and god help you if there isn't a huge-ass muffin and a kiss with extra f*cking tongue waiting for me."
"Hey." Dane pointed an accusing wooden spoon, although he backed away obediently towards the door. "I was your stripper. You didn't have to do anything to me." He teased, then curled his hand in a girly wave.
"Good boy!" He jeered, then scuttled back to the kitchen to sort out the muffins in the oven.

It hadn't taken them long to rise and almost overflow the buncases, but they were just the way Dane liked them. The surface was crunchy and caramelised, but the 'bouncy' look of them gave away the soft, spongey filling inside. He turned off the oven early and left them to remain warm until his boyfriend arrived.
"Don't touch the oven!" He ordered, grabbing his extra pink, cupcake pinny from work and tied it around his waist. He took some oven gloves and pulled the tray out, placing it on the hob to cool.
"There's squirty cream in the fridge if you want any." He grinned, admiring his work with a beam on his face. "If you want more tea you can make it yourself."
He picked the biggest muffin of the lot, retrieved a plate from the cupboard and placed the muffin on it, along with a fork in case Sloan wanted it. He handed the plate to his boyfriend, not bothering to hide the pride of his handiwork from his face.
"Oh!" He stopped, grabbed Sloan's face and kissed it passionately for a few moments. When he finally pulled away he was grinning just as much as he had been before. "As promised," he purred, "Now eat your muffin."

Once he was up, Sloan decided to take a quick shower - then changed into faded jeans a black band shirt, and trudged off to the kitchen to meet Dane; a towel draped over his wet hair. Now that he was awake, he was feeling far less grumpy, and he grinned as his boyfriend approached him with a blueberry muffin on a plate.
"Mmmm..." He murmured, sniffing the air appreciatively, and breathing in the warm aroma of freshly baked muffin.
He took the plate, gave the muffin another good sniff, then set it down and turned to the fridge to grab himself some cream as Dane had suggested. Before he had a chance, however, his boyfriend had caught his face, and pulled him back around.
A laugh escaped his lips before they met Dane's, and he ran his fingers through the man's hair as he enjoyed the 'extra tongue' that he had been promised. When Dane pulled away, he was grinning.
"As promised. Now eat your muffin." His boyfriend ordered, and Sloan stuck his tongue out playfully.
"Thank you." He said, tweaking Dane's nose and flashing a wink, "It looks delicious."
Grabbing his muffin, Sloan flopped down on the couch and took a big bite, bobbing his head absentmindedly to the music still playing softly in the background.
"Have fun last night?" He asked casually, smirking secretly to himself as he took another bite of muffin. He couldn't help himself - Dane was just so bloody hilarious when he was uncomfortable...

"Thank you." Dane wrinkled his nose as it was tweaked, but his eyes were still smiling. "It looks delicious."
"It'd better." He replied smugly. "I slaved all night over it."
Dane turned away to make himself a cup of tea and fussed over his muffin, prodding it experimentally to make sure it was cooked right. Obviously Sloan would have noticed if it was completely raw, but it was just to make sure it had been mysteriously poisoned by the bogie monster or something.
He paused. It was far too early in the morning.
Shaking his head he grabbed a fork and shovelled a huge lump into his mouth, chewing slowly, savouring it. He had to admit, it was a damned good muffin.
"Have fun last night?"
He stopped chewing. Blushed.
Sloan...
Gulping down his mouthful he poured himself his cup of tea, when the memories of the previous night raided his mind. A tingling feeling flushed southwards. He yanked his shirt down furiously to hide it.
"Hm? Yeah, yeah." He said, trying to act cool, and wandered over to sit next to his boyfriend. He set his cup on the coffee table and nibbled away at his muffin. "It was... It-"
Screw it.
"It was f*cking amazing.* He admitted, grinning and putting the plate next to his mug. Coughing awkwardly, he tried once more to redeem his dignity. "I mean... Yeah, it was worth shaving my legs for." He nodded seriously, then caught the smirk on Sloan's face and blushed.
"I did something weird again, didn't I?" He blurted, looking suddenly anxious."

Sloan just smirked at Dane's little 'cool' act, and shook his head in silent amusement, absentmindedly picking muffin crumbs off his plate as he waited for Dane to drop the act.
"It was f*cking amazing." He admitted at last, and Sloan leaned back on the couch casually, still smirking, and shot Dane a sideways glance, eyebrows raised.
"I mean... Yeah, it was worth shaving my legs for."
"Yeah. Sure." He replied, grinning knowingly.
Dane finally looked at him then, and blushed scarlet. "I did something weird again, didn't I?" He blurted nervously, and Sloan just laughed.
"No, Dane." He replied patiently, pecking the man fondly on the forehead, then standing up and gathering their plates.
"I did something weird."
He straightened up, and smiled lazily down at Dane, then explained with a devious wink, "You."
With that, he ruffled his boyfriend's hair, and carried the plates back to the kitchen, humming something that sounded suspiciously like 'For Your Entertainment' under his breath.

"No, Dane." Sloan assured him, and for a split second, he relaxed. For some reason the thought of doing something 'weird' made him really nervous.
"I did something weird."
"Did you?" Dane asked innocently, frowning at the remains of his muffin. He picked each crumb off with a damp finger and shovelled the rest into his mouth without much dignity left. "I didn't think you did. I didn't really-"
"You."
"What about me..." He trailed off, watching his plate disappear from his hands and stared blankly at the CD player in front of him. Track number four was playing. He didn't recognise the band.
"What about-... Oi!" He shouted, finally catching on, and stood up, scuttling round to where his boyfriend was sorting out the plates. He had to admit, it was a clever play on words. "I'm not-... well,okay, I'm a bit weird." He frowned at himself thoughtfully for a moment, then opened his mouth to speak, closed it and opened it again.
"If you're going to be mean to me I won't make you muffins." He said, raising his eyebrows in a snobby fashion and snatched his plate away, filling the sink with water. "Oh yeah, I went there." He growled, then, with a little smirk, pecked his boyfriend on the cheeks.
"Admit you loved it last night or I won't let you have another muffin." He threatened lightly, grinning daringly at Sloan with a twinkle in his eye.

"If you're going to be mean to me I won't make you muffins." Dane threatened, and Sloan slapped a hand dramatically over his heart, and staggered backwards in mock horror. "Oh yeah, I went there." Dane added, pecking him briefly on the cheek.
"You're bluffing." Sloan accused, grinning at Dane as he leaned lazily on the counter.
"Admit you loved it last night or I won't let you have another muffin." He stuck his tongue out cheekily at this, and shot back, "I loved parts of it. That good enough?"
Although I can think of at least a hundred different things that I'd rather have in my mouth...
Chuckling to himself, he slapped Dane good-naturedly on the bum, and walked off to the lounge to get his keys, stretching his arms tiredly above his head.
"Get ready." He called back over his shoulder to Dane, "We're heading to the track today, and visiting a couple of race stables of some trainer buddies of mine. I want to start scouting some talent."

"I loved parts of it. That good enough?"
"No." Dane glared, leaning against his boyfriend and bracing himself against the counter, reaching on his tiptoes so he and Sloan were both at eye-level. "Only if those parts included me in some way." He growled, lifting an amused eyebrow.
However, when he felt a palm tap gently against his backside, his 'tough guy' act fell away. Blushing furiously he lowered back to his usual side, smiling slightly, and ran a hand through his hair. He sucked at being tough anyway.
He busied himself with washing the dishes and his hands for a few moments as Sloan disappeared into another room, still smiling at all the memories from the previous night. Honestly, he'd not expected it to be half as good as that. He'd just presumed he was taking his clothes off and that was that. He should really have known better; it was Sloan, after all.
He was snapped abruptly from his thoughts when he heard his boyfriend appear again, and started talking about their plans for that day. Honestly, Dane was surprised. All the time he was wondering what they were going to do, and his boyfriend had already got everything thought out.
The track?
Trainer buddies?
Scouting?
God... The way Sloan said it, they sounded like true professionals. This thoughts made Dane grin stupidly. Of course he was a professional. He was a big boy now, after all.
"Sounds great." He agreed, smiling, and scuttled to the man, grabbing his hands, and planting a firm kiss on his lips. Knowing Sloan, he wouldn't be allowed to do that again until they were back at the house that afternoon. It would be unprofessional 'smooching' at work, anyway.
"Well, I'll go shower then. Try to control your urges when you see me in a towel." He teased, licking the man cheekily on the nose, then disappeared off to have a shower.

Once he was done he paused outside the bathroom, holding the towel firmly around his hips, and shot Sloan a playful wink. Perhaps it was too early in the morning for his sex jokes, but he didn't really care.

Sloan accepted Dane's kiss with a subtle response and savoured it for a moment, knowing that further affections would probably have to wait until that evening, given the nature of his aforementioned 'trainer buddies', and their rather closed-minded opinions on not only public displays of affection, but sexuality as well.
As far as they were concerned, he was straight as a f*cking arrow, and he intended to keep it that way.
"Well, I'll go shower then." Dane said suddenly, distracting Sloan from his thoughts. "Try to control your urges when you see me in a towel."
He opened his mouth to snap a retort, but when Dane's tongue flicked unexpectedly over his nose, it silenced him, and he was left to watch his boyfriend walk away with a somewhat bemused expression on his face.
Straight as an arrow, huh? Sure, that was going to happen... It was a good deal he was a decent actor...
Sloan snickered appreciatively to himself, and rolled his eyes as he traipsed off to gather everything he'd need for the day.

By the time Dane emerged from the shower, Sloan was just sitting aimlessly on the couch, waiting for him. He raised an eyebrow at Dane's wink, a smirk playing at his lips as he looked the man shamelessly up and down.
"We're late." He informed him mildly, "If you're not dressed in the next five minutes, you're going as you are." His smirk stretched deeper, forming a slight dimple in his cheek. "Need some help?" He offered innocently, lips splitting into a cheeky, crooked grin.

"We're late." Sloan informed him, but Dane could tell he didn't really care. Of course, Dane's body was far too much of a distraction for his Sloany to be annoyed at him. Saluting vaguely with two fingers by his temple, he turned t head towards the bedroom.
"If you're not dressed in the next five minutes, you're going as you are."
What?"
Eyes widening, as if he actually believed what Sloan said, he quickened his pace to an awkward waddle down the hallway. He had to be quick. Five minutes? He needed more time. Needed to think about what to wear. What did people wear to the races? He couldn't remember. Was he wearing riding gear? Posh gear? He wasn't even sure he had any, but he could throw something together if he needed to.
Wait, Sloan wasn't wearing jodhpurs. They probably weren't going to ride.
Still, he'd take some with him, just in case.
"Need some help?"
He paused, turned on his heel. For that brief moment he thought the man meant 'help with his outfit', and he nearly said yes. But he caught the twinkle in Sloan's eye and smirked. That wasn't what he'd meant at all.
"You wish." He murmured cheekily. "I'll see you in five, then."

Thirteen minutes later he appeared in a thick, red and black button-up checked shirt, open quite widely at the top to reveal a tight, plain black v-neck t-shirt that just skimmed below his collar bone, revealing only the suggestion of the middle crease of his chest muscles. However, this was cleverly covered with a contrasting black and white scarf, which was wrapped loosely around his neck. He wore his leather flat cap, as usual, with dark, ripped jeans and a leather jacket. He wore a thick, silver watch on his left wrist and brown builders' boots.
"What d'you think?" He asked seriously, opening his arms out and slowly turning to parade his stylish outfit. "Do I look straight enough?" He added with an innocent little smile. Obviously, he'd tried a bit too hard.

It took Dane a while longer than five minutes to change, but he was still ready surprisingly quickly, and looking surprisingly good, too.
"What d'you think?" Dane asked, turning to let Sloan examine his outfit, "Do I look straight enough?"
Sloan laughed at this, and shook his head in amusement.
"Dane," He replied, standing up and slinging an arm around his boyfriend's shoulders, "No straight guy has your fashion sense. And besides, nobody said you have to look straight." He flashed a wink, then shoved the other man through the front door ahead of him.
It was better that Dane was looking 'straight', of course - but there was no need for him to admit that.


A short drive later, they arrived at a racing stable - not quite 'fancy', but certainly clean and efficient-looking. Sloan signed in with the security guard at the gate, then parked the Jeep just outside the row of stables.
As soon as he'd stepped out of the car, he cast an admiring glance over the line of curious heads poking out toward him, but before he could really take note of any of the horses, a familiar voice caught his attention.
"Sloan-f*cking-Terse!" It jeered loudly, "Boy, I never thought I'd see your crippled ass near a horse again!"
Sloan rolled his eyes, and turned to meet the man with a subtle smile. "Tactful as ever, Mike." He responded, greeting his friend with handshake.
The trainer, Mike Smith, was a short, balding man with black hair and a surprisingly stylish beard. He had small blue-grey eyes that were nearly buried by the surrounding wrinkles earned from years of squinting at the sun. His belly strained the buttons of his open-collared, checked shirt, and bulged over the leather belt holding up his faded jeans, but he was not an unattractive man. There was something accessible about his smile, and the strength of his large, calloused hands that had always caused Sloan to respect him.
"So, you've not thrown in the towel yet?" Mike taunted, a twinkle in his eyes.
"So, you're not dead yet?" Sloan shot back quickly, lips sliding into a smug smirk as Mike threw back his head with a bark of laughter.
After a few more minutes of playful jesting, Sloan took a step back to include Dane in the conversation, and casually introduced him.
"Mike; my partner, Dane." He jerked his head in Dane's direction, and added, "Dane; Mike. He's an old buddy of mine who, as I understand it, has some decent horses coming off the track right about now?" He raised his eyebrows questioningly in Mike's direction, and the latter nodded in response, smiling briefly at Sloan and Dane. "Pleased to meet ya." He grunted, "And yeah, I've got a few," He cast an arm vaguely in the direction of the tables, "But first tell me, how's that foxy young thing you've been banging, eh, Sloan?" He flashed a grin, and elbowed Sloan in the ribs, wiggling his eyebrows tauntingly.
"Oh, please," Sloan scoffed, "She's old news. Couldn't have all that baggage tying me down, y'know?"
"So she dumped you?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
Mike snorted in amusement at this, and Sloan retorted by shoving his shoulder roughly, which he paid for with a light thump to his cheekbone.
He was still grumbling furiously about this by the time Mike had started giving them the tour of the stables, speaking mostly to Dane, since Sloan was too busy sulking to listen.

"Yeah," Dane murmured, looking down, feeling slightly stupid and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I guess. But you were thinking it." He added, looking back at the man with a knowing smirk, as if he could actually read his boyfriend's mind.

Dane remained quiet all the ride there, because he was too busy trying to decided what sort of image he wanted these trainers to see when they saw him. No doubt they were probably the rich, snobby kind that played golf in their spare times and drank beer until they were sick. If they were homophobes, the last person Dane wanted to be with them was himself.
He wasn't stupid. He knew he was a pretty gay man, and not just with sexuality.
Perhaps he should put on an accent? Nah, that'd just insult them or make him look like an idiot. Besides, he was only as posh as he sounded. If he remembered the act polite and smile at the crappy jokes about things he didn't know, he'd probably be fine. And then he'd just leave Sloan to do the talking.
His head snapped up at the gruff voice greeting his boyfriend from somewhere. "Sloan-f*cking-Terse!" Okay, that wasn't exactly the choice of words he was expecting from a high class trainer, but it was still early days.
He blinked stupidly as the man appeared before them, taking a brief look to take in his appearance. He was dressed rather smartly, collar open, but his barrel belly was bigger than Archie's and his shirt looked like it was about to pop and a huge alien rip out of it. Not only that, but the man's voice was far from polite.
Perhaps he'd overestimated this entire situation.
Slipping his hands in his pockets he glanced at the ground and let the two shoot insults at each other. A few of them made him wince, he was surprised a fight hadn't broken out - knowing Sloan - but thankfully this 'Mike' was still laughing cheerfully by the end of it. Although Sloan had gone quiet, Dane just ran a hand in a playful fashion through his hair, shooting him a quick glance as if to say 'cheer up, mate!' and followed the old man to different parts of the stables.
"So..." He began awkwardly, almost nervous to see whether he'd get some sort of insult just for being there. "You've got some good facilities here, Mister Smith. I bet you've had some impressive horses come out of here through the years." He said cheerfully, forcing a polite smile. "What horses have you had off the track? Sloan's shown me a few videos, and I'm fairly up to date with this year's eventers. I might recognise them."
He took off his cap, scratched his sweaty head awkwardly, and readjusted it back on.

Sloan cast an appraising eye over all the horses that Mike showed him, but none of them really caught his attention. They were all fine animals, but there was just nothing 'wow' about them.
As he was looking over the horses, Dane was trying way too hard to impress Mike. Of course, this amused him greatly, so he did nothing to put a stop to it.
"You've got some good facilities here, Mister Smith." Dane began politely, looking hilariously awkward, "I bet you've had some impressive horses come out of here through the years. What horses have you had off the track? Sloan's shown me a few videos, and I'm fairly up to date with this year's eventers. I might recognise them."
"Oi, Dane," Mike responded, poking the younger man firmly in the chest, "The only people who call me 'Mister Smith' are my hookers."
"How's that marriage working out, Mike?" Sloan interjected, grinning deviously.
Without missing a beat, Mike flashed his middle finger in Sloan's direction, and went on as if he'd never been interrupted.
"I don't really keep track of what my horse do after they stop racing," He shrugged, "But-"
"Silhouette was one of his." Sloan cut in, referencing one of the talented off-track thoroughbreds that he'd pointed out to Dane at a recent event. Mike nodded, and went on, "I don't know much about all this jumping sh*t, but Sloan seems to pick 'em well- HEY!" He broke off with a sudden shout when he looked up to see Sloan peering into a stall a little further up the stable block.
"Get away from there!" He snapped, and in the very second that Sloan backed away, a savage squeal erupted from the stall, and a magnificent black head shot over the top of the door, ears pinned right back, and teeth bared viciously.
Mike grabbed Sloan's arm and jerked him away, but he was staring transfixed at the horse, which was now swinging its head from side to side like a pendulum, and pawing at the stable door with a vengeance.
"What's his story?" Sloan asked, watching the fiery fury in the stallion's eye as it fidgeted and fussed in its stall.
"That's Midnight Jet." Mike sighed heavily, watching the stallion from a distance with folded arms. "He's a f*cking supermodel of a horse with bloodlines to match, but-"
"No speed?" Sloan guessed, thought his eyebrows were raised doubtfully.
"Not on your life!" Mike scoffed, "I've never seen an animal move like that. It's in the blood, I guess. Full brother to Poison Dart, this one."
Sloan froze, and throughout the rest of Mike's speech, he just stared unblinkingly at the horse, dead silent, and expression unchanging.
Dart...
"Problem is," Mike went on wearily, "That horse is f*cking insane. Nobody's willing to work with the bloody thing. Jocks won't touch 'im, and we can't even get a stablehand to groom the thing. It takes five of us with pitchforks just to feed the bloody horse! He's not just dangerous, he's a f*cking predator. I've never known a horse that wants to hurt people as badly as this one, and for no bloody reason..." He trailed off, glaring at the angry stallion that was pacing back and forth in his stall, neck puffed up aggressively.
"We'd have gelded him, obviously, but we can't even get a vet close enough to sedate him. We're having him put down on Monday." Mike sighed heavily, and shook his head, "It's a real shame. In all my years, I've never seen a horse with his talent, but he's put three guys in the hospital already - one never came out." He shuddered, "It just ain't right to keep an animal like that around here. He's dangerous - even if you're walking past his stall, I swear to god he'll try to grab ya and pull you in! He's-"
"I'll take him." A quiet voice interrupted.
"What?"
"I said I'll take him." Sloan repeated firmly, still watching the horse. Mike just stared at him in disbelief.
"Sloan, weren't you listening to a f*cking word I sa-"
"I was listening, and if you're destroying him anyway, then I'll take him off your hands!" Sloan interjected sharply.
"But I can't let you-"
"I'm taking him."
"Godamnit, Sloan, listen to me you stubborn mother f*cker-"
"No, you listen, Mike!" Sloan whirled around with sudden fury, and grabbed his friend by the collar, a snarl on his lips.
"I'm taking the f*cking horse."
Mike raised his hands in surrender, and Sloan released him, letting him step back and dust himself off.
"Fine, suit yourself then..." He muttered, slightly unsettled, "But you'll only end up putting a bullet in him after he kills another poor sod. Just hope to God it ain't you."
He turned away then, and flashed Dane a friendly wink in an attempt to alleviate the tension, then he mumbled something about fetching Midnight's passport, and said that he'd leave them to have a look at the horses.
Despite this, Sloan didn't seem to have any intention of looking at the other horses. He was too busy watching the furious Midnight pace his stall, head swinging and tail lashing in agitation. The horse was gnashing his teeth like a rabid dog, and he would suddenly charge at the door without warning, crash into it so hard that the wood splintered, and swing a violent muzzle at Sloan, who was standing just out of reach, still suspiciously still and quiet.

Dane's polite smile didn't last five minutes, because the minute 'Mike' commented on the way he was addressing him, it vanished quicker than a rock in water.
"The only people who call me 'Mister Smith' are my hookers."
Dane cowered away, rubbing the throbbing part of his chest protectively, and looked down with an alarmed look in his eyes. That probably wouldn't have meant anything to him, but the fact that he was gay made it far more awkward. It wasn't a comeback he'd been expecting.
In all the time it had taken him to recover from that one line, Sloan and Mike were talking about goodness knows what and Dane just nodded to everything.
Mike's personality was a bit much for him, he realised, and he was too shy of a person to let it go, so he remained silent for the rest of the tour, his hands stuffed unceremoniously in his pockets.

The loud, angry snorting sounds and the crashing of a hoof against a weak, wooden door caught his attention, and he automatically followed the noise. The horses they'd met so far had been perfectly calm - if not bored - animals. But this had been the first they'd passed that had any ferocity whatsoever.
Curious, he met Sloan by the stable door, peering in over the open half door.
A black blur suddenly morphed into a giant stallion that came charging at him and, with a yelp, he turned and fled, hiding behind Sloan with wide eyes.
"Get away from there!"
With pleasure, Dane thought, stepping away obediently. However. Sloan had other ideas.
"Sloan-" He started, frowning.
Then the conversation started.
Dane had to admit, the horse itself was a real stunning one. It had a bloody terrifying temperament, yes, but the sight of him almost reminded Dane of Dart, although it may have just been his looks. Dart had had a bit of a temper on her, but nothing in compared to this crazy sod. According to Mike it had even put a few people in hospital, and that didn't surprise him in the slightest.
"I've never seen an animal move like that. It's in the blood, I guess. Full brother to Poison Dart, this one.[i]"
Hold on...
"Dart?" Dane asked outloud, stupidly, and frowned at the old man as he continued babbling about how amazing and crazy the stallion was.
Dart?
[i]Oh no... His eyes flicked towards Sloan, who had a sudden look in his eye that didn't quite scare Dane, but he wasn't in the mood to try and stop the man from getting what he wanted. It was obvious he wanted that horse at the mention of Dart, and he was getting the horse.
His eyes flicked from Sloan to Mike as the two shot angry remarks like arrows at each other, and he nibbled nervously on his lip. Sloan could be pretty damned scary when he wanted to be. But in the end he won the argument, and Dane just watched with a slightly worried look as Mike promised that the stallion would hurt someone and pray it not be Sloan. What had they got into?
Dane caught the friendly wink from Mike and allowed a mute nod, trying to look as professional as possible - since he'd pretty much scrapped the professionalism a moment ago. He then turned back to Sloan and watched him anxiously, as the stallion continued to swing furiously at them both, despite them being out of reach.
"You alright?" He asked, frowning, and patted the back of the man's head. "Sloan. Earth to Sloan..." He groaned, rolled his eyes and decided just to respect his boyfriend's feelings and turned back towards the horse, slipping his fingers in his pockets.
"You sure about this?" He asked quietly. "He's not like what we've had before, and I don't mean that in a good way."

Sloan continued to study the horse for a long time, and he didn't even notice Dane trying to get his attention until he felt a tap on the back of his head. "Sloan. Earth to Sloan..."
"Hm?" He grunted dazedly, turning to Dane with his eyebrows raised questioningly, though it was obvious he was still somewhat distracted. It didn't take long for his gaze to stray back towards the stallion.
"You sure about this? He's not like what we've had before, and I don't mean that in a good way."
For a long time, it seemed as though Sloan hadn't even heard - but eventually he turned away from the horse, and gave Dane his full attention, folding his arms in front of him.
"I'm sure." He replied simply, "But I'm not getting him for the yard..." He cast another glance at the furious, pawing creature thrashing about in its stall.
"I'm taking him on myself." He muttered quietly, "There's no such thing as a 'mean' horse, I've said it before. They're all just misunderstood..." He frowned, and once again his gaze began to stray.
"He doesn't deserve to die. Just 'cause he's a bit of a challenge; a bit of a risk... It's not fair. He's got too much to give."

Turning away from Dane, Sloan took a few small steps toward the stall, and the effect on the stallion was instantaneous. The moment Sloan approached, he uttered an unearthly squeal of boiling fury, and lunged at the door, flinging his forelegs upwards. One leg caught over the door, but rather than seeming frightened, the stallion snaked his neck forward and gnashed his teeth at Sloan, enraged. His other foreleg scrabbled at the wood, and then he had both legs over, muscles in his neck straining taut.
"Hey!" Sloan shouted suddenly, flinging his arms up at the stallion in an attempt to chase it back away from the door. The animal uttered another squeal, so deathly low it sounded like a roar, and flung itself up into a full rear - not in fear, but in aggression. When his hooves touched the ground again, he wheeled around with a grunt, and charged into the back of his stall where he remained for a while, brooding silently.

"He's something else..." Sloan muttered under his breath, frowning seriously. He turned to Dane as though to say something, but then Mike reappeared with the stallion's papers, and Sloan casually signed a bill of sale for the horse.
"Best of luck to ya..." Mike muttered, casting his friend a warning glance. "Just don't let your pride kill you, kid. Some horses can't be fixed."
Sloan opened his mouth to object, but Mike just talked over him. "Have a look at the others if you like. The dark bay's got a big stride; he might do that fancy show pony stuff o' yours."
"I'll have a look." Sloan promised, smiling, "And next time I'll be back with a float."

Once Mike had left, Sloan turned his back on his new horse, and gave Dane his full attention at last, smiling as though nothing had happened.
"What do you say we have a look at those horses, then?" He asked enthusiastically, nodding toward the nearest stall. "It's those three that are coming off the track." He pointed to three of the stalls in turn, "See anything you like?"

Dane's worried expression didn't falter at Sloan's answer, and he sure as Hell wasn't convinced. Maybe he was just a wimp... But the sight of that horse frightened. It reminded him of a rabid dog; a psycho. There was something seriously wrong with it's mental health. Was Sloan biting off more than he could chew?
"But I'm not getting him for the yard... I'm taking him on myself. There's no such thing as a 'mean' horse, I've said it before. They're all just misunderstood... He doesn't deserve to die. Just 'cause he's a bit of a challenge; a bit of a risk... It's not fair. He's got too much to give."
A bit of a risk?
He'd put three people in hospital, caused the death of one, and he was only a 'bit' or a risk?
Dane opened his mouth to object but just as he did, the black stallion started again. At first it was just trying to crack up a fuss because Sloan was approaching it, but then it started kicking the door furiously, and it's critical intentions were evident.
Yelping, Dane jumped back a pace and cowered behind his boyfriend, staring at the horse behind the stable door as if it were about to grow fangs and eat him alive.
A bit of a risk. Huh, you could say that.

Trying to covert his attention, Dane began to glance around the fancy yard as Mike reappeared with the papers. There were three horses he was being offered, all which looked fairly talented. But he wouldn't know for sure which he liked until he'd met them personally.
Ignoring the other two, he strolled over and began to observe each one in tow; the bay Mike had said had a good stride - a dark horse with a thin, white stripe, a lighter bay with a dark muzzle and a light, dappled grey mare. The dark bay looked bored, it swung it's neck from side to side, ignoring Dane's presence, ears hanging loosely on the side of it's head. When Dane attempted to rub it's forehead it nipped his arm and went back to swinging. Frowning, Dane moved on.
The second horse was definitely young, it was leaner than the others and it's face was bonier. Dane knew this had nothing to do with it's health, however, and he approached it with a smile. The minute he raised his hand to stroke it's long nose it snapped it's muzzle cheekily sideways as if trying to secretly take a nibble from anther horse's haynet, but when he retorted and waved his hand to tap it's nostril as a punishment it threw it's head high, head shy. It's actions, however, caused it to swing it's head so high it banged it's poll on the wooden bar of the stable with a soft, coconut-sounding 'thud'.
Chuckling, Dane pointed an accusing finger at the youngster. "Serves you right." He mumbled, patting it's neck. He'd come back to that one, he decided.
The third horse, a grey mare, was snoozing gently with it's head dangling over the stable, it's lower lip hanging loosely. As Dane approached she opened her eyes slightly, snorted, and went back to resting.
He glnced down at the label on her stable. 'Angel's Mist'.
"Nice name." He nodded in approval and glanced back up at her, smirking slightly. She reminded him of Archie.
He started to stroke her nose and brow gently, waking her up softly, and cooed quietly to her. She whickered at him, not at all complaining for the attention, and subtly began to sniff his coat and check him out.
"You're a lovely girl." He muttered, scratching her lower jaw, his eyes twinkling. "Sorry, I don't have anything."
Her nose found his left pocket and, not convinced, she began to chew the fabric.
"Oi!" He chuckled, pushing her muzzle away. "Okay I admit, I lied! Geez..." Shaking his head he pulled out a small packet of horse treats and sneaked one into his palm. "Just... Don't tell."
She chewed, swallowed, then lifted her upper lip in an amused flehmen. She knew he had more.
"You haven't impressed me enough yet." He told her, glancing back at Mike and Sloan. Making sure they weren't looking, Dane snook into the stable, closing the door behind him. For now he wasn't too bothered whether she was a good mover or not. She had a nice temperament, which was all that mattered.
"So what do they call you, eh?" He asked, fussing gently over her, scratching behind her elbow and up her shoulder."Angel or Misty?"
She was fully awake now, wide brown eyes watching him curiously. She stepped away from the stable door, straightening up to her proper height, and at the contact on her shoulder she automatically curled her head around, almost as if trying to hug him, and started to explore the back and shoulder of his coat with her muzzle, licking and chewing her tongue.
His heart melted. She was trying to groom him.
"Aww, you're a polite girl, ain't you?" He cooed, turning so he had his back to her face, gently rubbing her back with one hand, wrapping the other around her other shoulder in a soft hug.
He'd made a new friend.
After a few moments he took a step back to examine her conformation whilst she watched him with a puzzled look on her pretty face. She was a little thinner than he was used to, but she'd been on the track for a few years so that was normal. Once they had some meat on her she'd probably look much better.
Nodding to himself he stepped towards her again, rubbed her neck and face then went out of the stable, back to Mike and Sloan.
"How does she move?" He asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards the grey mare. "She a good jumper?"
His heart fluttered in excitement. Good jumper or not, he wanted her.

((Just make it up, if you want. She doesn't have to be perfect. ))

Sloan followed Dane down the line of stables, casting a brief glance over each horse. The dark bay seemed grumpy and ill tempered, but he had a nice look about him. The lighter bay was clearly too young - Sloan would guess around two years, which was too young for any real training, and it was a small creature, besides. At 15,2hh - and that was being generous - Sloan knew he for one would not be comfortable on its little toothpick back.
The grey mare that Dane had obviously taken a shine to seemed sweet, but she lacked any sort of fire in her eyes. She had nice conformation, perhaps a slightly long back, and nice clean legs. Certainly worth a trot-out, in any case...
While Sloan was lost in thought, Dane came out of the stable, and walked over to question Mike.
"How does she move? She a good jumper?"
"Dane," Sloan said patiently, casting a glance over his shoulder, "This is a racing stable. None of these horses have jumped, mate." He smirked slightly, and flashed his boyfriend a teasing wink - then let himself into the mare's stable and buckled a headcollar onto her while Mike finished speaking to Dane.
"She's lazy." He answered bluntly, "She has pretty plain movement, and her canter is a little on the forehand, but she has powerful quarters, and a nice mellow temperament."
He nodded toward the mare as Sloan led her out of her stable.
"Watch her move." He suggested, and Sloan nodded in agreement. "Tell me what you think." He called to Dane, then he clucked to the mare, and trotted her up and down the aisle. She was a little reluctant, but very obedient - and she halted beautifully on command, and stood up neatly while Sloan looked her over, checking her legs and taking a more detailed look at her conformation.
"Trot her out for me quickly." Sloan instructed, calling Dane over, "I want to have a look at her movement myself."

"Dane," Sloan told him, sounding somewhat patronising. "This is a racing stable. None of these horses have jumped, mate."
"I knew that." He lied, shooting the man a look. "It was worth asking though, right?" He muttered, turning back to Mike with the most uncalm expression he'd worn throughout the visit. He wanted that horse.
"She's lazy." He was told. "She has pretty plain movement, and her canter is a little on the forehand, but she has powerful quarters, and a nice mellow temperament."
Well, she wasn't lame... Pregnant or thirty years' old, therefore he didn't really care if she didn't stand out to others. His eyes were already shining as he nodded, then turned back to the mare, stood in the middle of the yard, and admired her with a nod of approval. She looked lighter in daylight (Obviously, Dane O.o) which seemed to bring out her eyes a lot more, and he could really look closely at her body movements when she wasn't limited to the confined stable area.
He watched Sloan trot her up and down. Yes, she wasn't pulling against him, she wasn't trying to gallop off, she could have perhaps done with a little more bounce, but that would come in time.
When he was instructed to take the lead rope, Dane did so efficiently and patted the mare's dappled neck. He then turned her around and clucked her on, and when she hesitated, he turned round and tapped her rump with the excess lead rope. She lifted up into a trot and gracefully paced the yard, one ear forward, the other back, with her head stretched forward.
"What d'you think?" He asked once he'd reached Sloan again, stopping the mare with a single tug of the lead rope. "She's got potential, I can tell. But I'm not the expert here." He said with a little smile then stood in front of the grey thoroughbred, rubbing the star-crest on her brow.
"I think with some persuasion she can perk up, to be honest."

Sloan watched Dane trot the mare with a small frown on his face. She was a nice horse, but her potential was clearly limited. Still, not every horse had to be a champion prospect; this mare could make a wonderful schoolmaster for a junior rider if she was correctly schooled. With her good looks and mild temperament, she would definitely be easy enough to sell on, and that was what he was looking for, for the most part.
"What d'you think?" Dane asked breathlessly as he halted the mare beside Sloan, "She's got potential, I can tell. But I'm not the expert here. I think with some persuasion she can perk up, to be honest."
"I reckon we can make something of her." Sloan agreed, nodding. He cast an appraising eye over the horse, then looked at Dane.
The expression on his boyfriend's face made him want to slap his palm to his face - but since they were in public, he settled for a subtle eye-roll instead. Dane had bought that horse in his mind already. He was besotted with the mare, no doubt from temperament alone...
Sloan sighed heavily, and shook his head. Working with Dane was not going to be as easy as he'd thought. He fell in love with every bloody horse he saw...
His lips curved into a smile despite himself, and he chuckled quietly under his breath, then turned to Mike, who had brought the dark bay out for him to see. "I think we'll give the mare a try." He informed his friend pleasantly, and Mike nodded in response, offering a smile. "I'll bring her passport out for you while you have a look at this guy." He offered, handing the gelding's lead rope to Sloan. The horse snorted and shifted away, flicking its ears back and tossing up its head. When Sloan pulled on the lead rein, however, it stepped obediently forward, and stood beside him, looking around in an alert fashion. It was a slightly aloof horse with an unimpressive face, and it's conformation was not spectacular, but it was a nice horse nonetheless. It certainly had no flaws, but it wasn't a looker, either. It seemed to have a good spark about it, though - and from the way the horse sprung off its hooves when it walked, Sloan had a good feeling about it.
"Give him a trot." He said, handing the lead rope to Dane, "He looks like he'll move pretty well."

Dane grinned at his boyfriend's reaction. So what if he was hopelessly in love with the mare? It was just Dane being Dane. He fell in love with anything that was as nice to him as he was to it.
He nearly squealed like a girl when his boyfriend agreed to take the horse, but he knew that would look 'gay', so he decided to contain himself until they'd got back in the Jeep.
Just then, Mike appeared with another horse, another bay, which seemed to stand out more than the other two bays Dane had met. It had a temper on it but not like Midnight or the youngster. It was just spirited, and it showed in the spring in it's step. It wasn't particularly stunning, but it had an impressive gait that Dane could tell would make a good dressage horse, if not an eventer.
He smiled.
"Give him a trot." Sloan said, shoving the lead rope in Dane's hand. Their fingers brushed together briefly. "He looks like he'll move pretty well."
Nodding, Dane led the gelding forward. They had a brief argument on whether or not the bay had the right to maul him over, but after a sharp tug on the lead rope and a firm click of his tongue, Dane had the horse going forward in a springy, light trot.
He paced him around a few times until he was too tired and lazy to do it again and arrived back with Mike and Sloan, panting slightly.
"What do... You think...?" He asked, absentmindedly scratching the gelding's shoulder. Unlike the mare this horse didn't seem the least bit pleased at the attention.
"As long as I don't have to take him to in-hand classes he should be alright." He teased with a tired smile.

Sloan watched the gelding trot with his chin grasped thoughtfully between thumb and forefinger, and when Dane returned to him, he smiled and nodded.
"I like this guy." He concluded, "Hell of a stride, and he's quick with those feet. Going to make a super cross country ride."
He stepped closer, and patted the bay's neck, murmuring a quiet word of praise. The horse just flicked back its ears, evidently displeased.
"I'll take him, too." Sloan announced, turning back to Mike. "Neither have any issues, right? Boxing, shoeing?"
"Both good as gold." Mike replied with a shrug, "The bay can get a little bossy, but as long as you're firm with him he's not a problem."
Sloan nodded in a satisfied fashion, and accepted the passports for the two horses from Mike, looking them over briefly. Then he signed a bill of sale for both the grey and the bay, and arranged to collect the three new horses in the float the following day.
Before he left, he paid a visit to his new horse, and looked over Midnight's handsome, glossy neck one last time. The stallion was in the back of his stable, prowling from side to side with his neck set high, and his head swinging. He held himself with such pride, such absolute presence, that the beauty of him literally took Sloan's breath away. He had seen a lot of stunning horses in his time, but Midnight Jet was something else.
As the stallion stalked around in the gloom of his stable, Sloan was reminded of a panther he'd once seen on National Georgraphic, crouching in the long grass, ready to pounce on unsuspecting prey...
The look in the stallion's eye was just the same. Though he pretended not to notice Sloan; he could see the stallion's eye locked threateningly on him, brimming with intelligence. He could see that horse thinking, planning, scheming...
As he watched, the horse suddenly uttered a furious squeal, and bolted toward the front of the stable. It slid to a stop just in front of the door, and swung its head viciously with mouth agape, ears flat against its skull. Sloan did not flinch.
Grunting, Midnight puffed up his already thick neck, and drew himself up to his full height, snorting loudly and tucking his chin to his chest. He was challenging the man before him, 'stallion to stallion'. Gritting his teeth, Sloan held the horse's gaze defiantly.
"We're going to have some fun, aren't we...?" He muttered under his breath, lips sliding into a smirk, "Some fun indeed..."
He chuckled to himself, then gave the stallion a pat on the neck, which sent him rocketing to the back of his stall, lashing the door angrily with his heels as he went.
Laughing out loud, Sloan turned his back on the horse, and walked back to Dane.
"Wanna go home?" He asked cheerfully, "Get some stalls prepared for this lot for tomorrow? I'll want to get a stallion gate up for Midnight, just in case."

Dane hadn't picked up a single thing Sloan had mentioned, but he was glad his tiring jog was worth it. He jerked the lead rope as he bay took a swing for him and glared at it, almost daring it to try again. The two just glowered at each other like naughty children, until the bay's ears twitched forward at something in the distance, and the silent argument was over.
When Mike mentioned the gelding being rather bossy at times he wasn't surprised. Thankfully, as long as it didn't try to kill him, he would probably be able to handle it fine.
He let Mike and Sloan exchange papers and conversation and handed the gelding to the old man before he started walking back to the Jeep.
It took him a moment to realise Sloan wasn't with him and turned to see the man observing Midnight in his stable. Dane didn't bother approaching, because that horse scared him. Why he didn't scare Sloan, he didn't know. He just prayed his boyfriend knew what he was getting himself into.
Finally, Sloan tore himself away and headed back to Dane, looking extremely pleased with himself.
"Wanna go home?"
Dane nodded.
"Get some stalls prepared for this lot for tomorrow? I'll want to get a stallion gate up for Midnight, just in case."
"Awesome." He replied, the word sounding odd coming from his British tongue. "Then why don't we go out for dinner? Might as well celebrate, and I'm starving and can't be bothered cooking anything." He looked down with a whimper as his stomach growled furiously beneath his palm.
"We could go to 'Tony's'. I fancy a calzone..." He smiled hungrily. "Sod it, I'll do the sit-ups before we eat. I want extra chips on the side." ((Don't let Tony kill you, Daney. ))
Grinning, Dane stopped at the Jeep and leaned coolly back on the bonnet.
"We've got a good selection there, I think. The horses, I mean. I can't wait to see how the mare rides."

At Dane's suggestion of going out for dinner, Sloan nodded in agreement. "Sounds good." He replied, "Now you mention it, I'm pretty hungry. Might even man up and try put down a steak." Grinning at the prospect, he raised his Jeep keys, and unlocked the vehicle with a press of a button, then turned to see Dane leaning on the hood. "We've got a good selection there, I think." He stated mildly, "The horses, I mean. I can't wait to see how the mare rides."
"The gelding will ride better." Sloan replied mildly, "You just like the mare because she's got a kind temperament."
He smirked, and shook his head in amusement, then opened up the driver's side of the Jeep, and climbed in. He waited for Dane to join him, then started the car and pulled out onto the road, driving along with his fingers tapping absentmindedly against the steering wheel.
"I'm going to let you take the lead on those horses." He said after a while, casting Dane a glance, "Something tells me I'm going to have my hands pretty full with my own, and with this leg, it's not fair throwing me up on them right away anyway."
His eyes darted upwards as he passed a signpost advertising a 'Tony's', and he pointed briefly toward it. "Wanna grab dinner now?" He asked, "It's actually got pretty late anyway. We can set some stalls out when we get back, or just have the stablehands do it. I forgot about that handy little trick - too used to doing everything myself!" He laughed, and switched to the turning lane, not really waiting for Dane's answer before turning off to head toward Tony's.

"The gelding will ride better." Sloan challenged, and Dane pulled a face at him. "You just like the mare because she's got a kind temperament."
"She's polite." He shot back, smirking slightly. "And to be fair, she didn't try to eat me for going anywhere near her," he said, raising an eyebrow.
He got into the Jeep, kicked off his builder's boots and rested his feet up on the front of the car, folding his hands behind his head coolly. He remembered then that he hadn't seen his horse at all that day, and made a mental note to get him some treats at the next chance he got.
When Sloan told Dane to 'take the lead' with the gelding and mare, he smirked slightly. Yeah, that's fine. Let them beat me up so they don't have to to you.
He didn't mind. As long as he wasn't completely left alone to teach them, because Sloan knew far more about training horses than Dane did.
"Wanna grab dinner now?"
"Yes." Dane said without hesitance. Thank God Sloan was hungry, because Dane was pretty sure his stomach was eating itself already. Grinning in animalistic excitement he dropped his feet back on the floor of the Jeep and tapped his heels against the mat as they headed down the road to Tony's.
"God... I'm looking forward to this, now. All this, today, was just crazy. Good crazy, ya know. Back at the other stables I'd just go to the auction with Claire if we were getting another horse. Hence the range of breeds. But here, with the trainer and the thoroughbreds... I see what you meant by 'a step up' now. It really is professional stuff."
He was yapping, he knew. But it was only because he was hungry. If only the road would roll beneath them faster...

A few minutes later they pulled up at the restaurant and Dane literally leapt out of the Jeep, even before it had stopped.
He was already planning his order.
Once he'd made up his mind he turned back to his boyfriend and placed a hand on each of his shoulders, staring firmly into his eyes. "Right, we're not going to have any bar fights this time, are we?" He scolded, narrowing his eyes. "If someone calls you gay or whatever, let it go. I like this place, I don't want to get barred from it, okay?"He said, smiling slightly. Then, making sure noone was around, he Kissed Sloan roughly on the forehead with a loud 'mwah' and ruffled his hair.
"Promise me."

When they arrived at the restaurant, Sloan followed Dane mindlessly toward the entrance, turning back over his shoulder to lock the Jeep with a beep of his keys as he remembered.
Before they reached the door, Dane pulled him aside, hands on his shoulders, and looked at him seriously.
"Right, we're not going to have any bar fights this time, are we?" He asked scoldingly, trying to catch Sloan's eye as he glanced away in avoidance.
"If someone calls you gay or whatever, let it go. I like this place, I don't want to get barred from it, okay?"
"I wouldn't care if someone called me gay!" Sloan protested indignantly, "That part's true. But if they're going to be all homophobic about it, then they deserve my foot halfway up their-"
He broke off from his fuming tangent when Dane kissed him loudly on the forehead. Grumbling to himself, he turned sulkily away, and folded his arms in a grumpy fashion, looking like a spoiled toddler.
"Promise me." Dane demanded, ruffing his hair.
"I will not promise that." Sloan retorted mulishly, "If somebody picks a fight with me, I'm not gonna take it lying down. But I promise I won't start anything. That good enough for you?"
Without waiting for an answer, he flicked Dane playfully on the forehead, then brushed past him, heading into the restaurant. He asked for a table in the corner, cozy and secluded, and followed the waiter over to it.
He sat down heavily in one of the chairs, and kicked out the opposite one for Dane; then slid one of the two menus he'd been given over to his boyfriend's side of the table.