Title: Edward J Ainscough’s Story
Author: P’al Kwai
E-Mail: isisbaast@aol.com
Ratings: 16+ for references to nonconsensual m/m slash. If this offends you, please do not read.
Pairings: Ben Wade/Ed Ainscough (OC based on Guy Pierce because he and Russell Crowe were so slashable in LA Confidential), reference to BenWade/Charlie Prince
Spoilers: Three Ten to Yuma, the movie
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They belong to their respective creators.
Feedback: Welcomed and adored.
Just East of Nogales, Mexico, April, 10, 1884
Hands tied to the saddle horn, Edward tried to concentrate on the horse’s gait, his surroundings, anything but the man behind him, who unfortunately was pushed against him disturbingly close. Shifting around, he tried to inch forward, but there wasn’t much space to work with, as his groin hit the saddle horn.
“You’ll be more comfortable if you just sit still,” the man behind said with a hint of amusement in his voice. Wrapping a strong arm around Ed’s hips, he pulled him backward. “Relax, we’ve got a ways to go.”
Closing his eyes, Ed held himself stiffly upright, wondering how he was expected to relax, when he was a hostage of the notorious Ben Wade, wanted in the States for numerous crimes, including the murder of several law men.
Since his acquisition, his mind had not stopped with many different scenarios playing through his head, all of them ending tragically. It was so tempting to ask, just ask, so that he would finally know, and his overactive imagination could finally be put to rest. On more than one occasion, his mouth had opened, the words just about to fall off his tongue, when he stopped himself. He knew very little about Wade the man. Wade, the myth was well-known, since Americans loved to glamorize their outlaws and criminals, substantiated by the many dime novels that extolled the exploits of Jesse James, Billy the Kid, John Wesley Hardin, and Ben Wade.
“So tell me about yourself?” Ben’s manner was chatty, as he broke the silence. “You speak different. You’re a foreigner, right?”
“English,” Ed answered warily. Back at the slave camp, he had been able to observe Mr. Wade on a few occasions, and knew the man was as slick with his tongue as he was with a gun.
“English,” Ben said thoughtfully, as he looked up in the sky, checking the sun’s position. “What’s an Englishman doing out here in the wilds of the desert?”
It was the very question that Ed had been asking himself over and over. The blood in his veins was aristocratic, his birth line impeccable, so why come five thousand miles to a untamed, savage place, where men used force and the speed of their reflexes to overpower the weaker.
“It’s customary in England that a man will travel the world before settling down,” Ed lied. He had no intention of telling Wade the truth, that his father had gambled away the family fortune, and then further disgraced the family name by committing suicide to escape his many gaming debts.
“Really?” Ben’s expression was dryly amused. “And so many young Englishmen choose to travel here to western deserts of the US and Mexico? How fascinating.” A raise of an eyebrow and a mocking tilt to his voice indicated his disbelief.
“No, usually, many choose Europe, or the Near or Middle East. Egypt is quite popular with the. . . .” Ed trailed off, realizing that Wade had effortless lured him into a friendly conversation.
“But you chose to come here? Looking for adventure? Or was gold the attraction?” Ben’s voice lowered to a whisper. “Did you hear all the stories of the millions that people were making on all the gold and silver strikes that were discovered on this side of the World?”
Swallowing hard, Ed wondered how Wade had been able to astutely guess what had been his plans. Lucky guess, or was Wade just extremely clever at reading people.
“And instead of finding the bags and bags of gold you dreamed about, you found a renegade gang, who specialized in human slavery. Bad fortune for you.”
Ed didn’t reply, as he too looked up at the sun, although, the only information he could gleam from its position was that they were headed east. Neither spoke again, until Wade rode up to a small lake. Untying Ed from the saddle horn, he dismounted, pulling the slighter man down with him. Unraveling the rope from around Ed’s wrists, he spoke casually.
“I suppose you could try to run, but without water and proper supplies, the desert will kill, and death by its hand is slow and agonizing.”
Ed nodded slightly; he more than understood. Without provisions or any kind of weapon, he was no match for the desert or Ben Wade.
“Take your clothes off,” Ben ordered, as he dug into a saddlebag and pulled out a bar of soap. “Catch.” In one smooth move, he spun around and threw it to Ed, who lunged for it clumsily. The soap hit his hand at an awkwardly and fell to the dirt.
Ben shook his head, tsking under his breath. “With those kind of reflexes, you’ll never survive here in the west. Out here, a man is measured by the speed and skill he can handle a gun. An Englishman like you, is a fish out of water.”
**
April 11, 1884
It was the first rays of daylight that woke Ed from a restless half-sleep. Opening his eyes, he stifled a quiet moan, marveling that he had slept at all after the events of the night before. Soft snores whistled from his right, causing him to turn and stare at a sleeping Wade, fair hair tousled, face shockingly angelic in slumber. A murderous fury rose in Ed, as images of last night flashed through his head like a bad nightmare. Him on his back, legs spread like a cheap whore. Wade, on top of him, above him, thrusting hard, not caring about anything except his own twisted lust.
A glint of sunlight bounced off the metal object beside Wade’s head, and Ed in his rage, didn’t think, just acted. He lunged for the holster, but Wade, despite having been in a deep sleep, was on it at the same time. A short struggle and the prize was wrestled from Ed’s grip. Pulling away, he stumbled backward a few steps before clumsily collapsing to the ground, the blanket around his naked body falling away.
“Bloody cad!” he swore, as landing on his ass awoke its nerves, and the whole area screamed with pain, reminding him once again what Wade had done to him.
“You were captured by slave traders and then bought. What were expecting?” Ben was now standing, tone mild, as he eyed Ed thoughtfully. “You saw the fates of many of your fellow captives. Were you expecting something different?”
“Just never expected the legendary Ben Wade to be. . .a . . . a pouf.” The word just slipped out, and a small part of Ed, disconnected from the rest of him, laughed hysterically. That a gentleman like himself would use such a word.
The word also had Wade raising an eyebrow with a quizzical look on his face. He had never heard it before but could easily guess its meaning. “A man in my line of work spends most of his days and nights on the road, no place for a woman, and no sane woman would want it. I need someone to aid me in relieving my needs; otherwise I just can’t concentrate.” He tapped the side of his head. “And that could be disastrous.”
“And so you engage in the purchasing of human beings,” Ed said bitterly. “An act that is illegal and immoral.”
“I’m a son-of-a-bitch, rotten as hell.” Ben’s mouth twisted up in a small smile. “I would have thought you’d have figured that out by now. But this isn’t always the case. My last partner was a young man, who willingly followed me. He not only shared my blanket, but he was my second-in-command and business partner.”
“What happened to him?” The question was asked before Ed could stop himself. It was curiosity, sheer morbid curiosity.
“I shot him,” Ben said matter-of-factly, as he took a few steps toward Ed. “But don’t mourn, he was an animal and deserved to die.”
“And is that my future, death after being degraded liked an animal? Did I too deserve this fate?” Ed asked, as he looked down as his bruised and naked body.
“No, but life isn’t fair, and most of the time, it’s the most unfair for the weakest. Now. . . .” Ben strode up to Ed, and in one smooth move heaved the smaller man up and threw him into the lake.
The cold water was like a surprise slap in the face, as Ed surfaced, coughing and sputtering. He tried to regain his footing, but slippery rocks and a rare clumsiness had him going under again. Once again, Wade, who had followed Ed into the lake, pulled him up.
“You okay?”
The concern in Wade’s voice was unmistakable, and Ed could only wonder at it, as his feet continued to slide around on the slick rocks below him.
“Stay where you are,” Ben commanded, as Ed, finally finding a sure foothold started to wade out of the lake. “The cold water will do you some good.”
It took a moment for Wade’s meaning to sink-in, and when it did, Ed felt himself turning red, a fact, which did not go unnoticed by Ben, as he grinned, while wetting Ed’s head and upper body.
“I was a little rough last night; it’s had been a while, and I couldn’t control myself. Sorry about hurting you; it will be better next time.”
Ed could not imagine, how it could ever be better but held his tongue, as Wade rubbed a bar of soap in his hair and over his body.
“You know, if you let me, I can teach you how to survive in this world. You can then partner with me in business. In the last year, me and my gang made over $400,000,” Ben whispered in Ed’s ear. “Stay with me a few years, and then you can go back to England a rich man. It’s what you want, isn’t it?”
Cunningly seductive. Ed was no fool; he knew that part of Wade’s magnetism was his charm and his ability to lie. But the offer was tempting. At least, he could make something out of a horrendous situation, and maybe, just maybe return to England like Ben said, a rich man.
“Go and dry off.” Ben had finished washing him up and had started on himself. “And if I were you, I wouldn’t go for my gun again. It’s cursed. Touch it, and you’ll never make it back home, ever.”
Puzzled, Ed turned to stare Wade in the face, not sure if he was joking or not, but the look he received back was pure seriousness. Climbing out of the lake, he rooted around for his clothes, and by the time he was dressed, Wade had finished his bath and was packing to leave. The man was organized and efficient.
“Do you want something to eat?”
Sitting on the ground, knees drawn up, Ed shook his head. His mood was contentious, and had no inclination to be obliging in any way, shape or form with Ben Wade.
“You need to drink something though; it’s the desert.” Ed’s emotions were clearly written on his face, because Ben continued. “Don’t refuse because I’ll just hold your nose and pour some down you.”
Uncooperative or not, Ed heeded Wade’s threat. Taking the offered canteen, he swallowed a few gulps of water and then stood up. Ben was headed for his horse. It was time to leave. Ass still sore from the rough sex of the night before, Ed stiffly followed the outlaw, wondering how he was going to endure the day. Riding a horse after being violated was sure to be hell. Handing the canteen to Wade, who was already mounted, he lifted a foot into a stirrup, but was sharply ordered to stop.
“Turn around, back toward me.”
Puzzled, Ed did what he was told, and soon found himself being lifted, as Ben hauled him up and set him in front of him with his legs dangling down the side of the horse. Tying them together, he pulled a light blanket over Ed, covering him from the hot desert sun.
Face pressed into Wade’s chest, Ed couldn’t help but relax as the horse’s gait rocked him back and forth. Quietly, so quietly, he murmured, “why me?” The question may have been one he was asking himself, but overhearing it, Wade thought it was addressed to him.
“Because I couldn’t resist those green eyes of yours.”
****
Finis