Fandom: 3:10 to Yuma
Pairing: Ben/Tommy, Ben/Charlie
Charlie’s heart beat faster, a strange flutter in his chest, as he watched Ben, waited to see what he’d do. The man from the railroad had his gun to Tommy’s head, like he knew how much he meant to Ben, like he knew Ben cared almost as much for him as he did for the money in that coach.
Ben hesitated for just a moment; Charlie blinked when he fired, feeling that same rush like always when Ben killed a man, as sure and swift as God in his vengeance. There was just that split second of being glad it wasn’t him. It would never be him.
He always knew Tommy wouldn’t be around long. Sure, he was pretty, even Charlie had to admit. He knew he couldn’t compete with Tommy’s long lashes and those green eyes of his that Ben liked so well, so he just bided his time, until Tommy fucked up, until Ben grew tired of his puppy-dog ways.
And when he finally fucked up, Tommy fucked up but good -- got too greedy, too sloppy. Thought he could cross Ben.
Ben killed Tommy himself and when he drank to his memory, it was as a caution to every other man there. There was no regret in those clear eyes of his, just a cold warning. Ben’s gaze warmed when he turned towards him, when they were finally alone, but his eyes were on the woman behind the bar.
With a knowing smile, Charlie took himself off. He knew better than to stay when Ben got that look.
Outside, he took the drawing he’d found along the trail several nights ago, of Tommy’s full lips, long lashes soft against his cheek as he slept. Every detail of his bare torso was perfectly captured by Ben’s pencil. Charlie could almost feel the heat from the fire in the drawing.
He crumpled up the sketch, grinding it under his heel into the dirt of the street, until the paper tore.
Charlie would be waiting, of course. He was always waiting. He’d be here long after Ben forgot Tommy’s name.