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“The sun’s goin’ down.”
Katsuki feels the cooling presence of a shadow pass over his body and removes his hat from his face to see Eijirou’s broad figure looming over him. The dull orange glow of the waning sun filters behind him and through the sparsest part of the woods they’ve settled themselves in for the day. Eijirou steps further into the outfitter, the spurs of his boots rattling with each step he takes towards Katsuki’s cot. The tarp falls behind him, shrouding them in an ample amount of darkness save for the sliver of light cutting down the center of the tent at a skewed angle. Katsuki huffs, and moves to sit upright with a grunt.
“About goddamn time.”
“Are we going hunting?” Eijirou asks a bit too optimistically, and as Katsuki’s post-nap vision sharpens into something much crisper, he notices the traces of blood staining Eijirou’s clothes before the repulsing smell hits him. His nose scrunches and he scoffs at the scent, hoping to waft it away with a wave of his hand.
“Why are you covered in so much blood?”
And animal blood at that.
He curls in on himself, head bowing in a poor attempt to obscure his bashful grin with the rim of his hat. Katsuki shakes his head.
“Tch.”
Eijirou changes out of his blood-soaked attire because like hell was Katsuki going to let him linger around smelling like a rotting deer carcass. Katsuki replaces his own hat on his head and tightens the belt around his waist, and by the time he fixes the weathering leather straps of his suspenders, Eijirou whines a soft, “I'm hungry,” from the opposite side of the outfitter.
“Like hell you are,” scoffs Katsuki. “From the looks of you, you just ate.”
It’s pitch black when Katsuki peers outside. The trees whisper in the wind whilst the crickets and cicadas chirp their discordant song and dance. There’s nobody else out here with them, none trekking down the trail nor anyone fishing at the nearby creek. Katsuki glances back at Eijirou, jerking his head towards the outside world. “Get on your horse. We're gonna head into town.”
They ride through the woods under the blanket of darkness, the silvery light of the moon illuminating their path towards the bustling town of Silvercity. The full moon above is soon replaced by streetlight lanterns the further they go into town, the hooves of their horses clacking against the cobblestone. They stop at the town’s saloon, and as Eijirou leads his Ardennes to the hitching post, a trolley toots its bell and drowns them in a flood of white light as it passes. Katsuki’s already down from his horse, hat tipped low over his brows as he murmurs,
“We go about this as per usual.” Eijirou grunts in confirmation.
The saloon’s packed with patrons varying from the rich and wealthy to the dirt poor—a clear distinction of class too, with the wealthier patrons sitting at the tables lining the wall whilst the others camp out near the bar. Katsuki’s nose wrinkles at the scent of alcohol, sweat, and bodily fluids mixing together. But, he swallows down his disgust and saunters over the bar with Eijirou two steps behind him. He slaps down two nickels just as the bartender comes over to greet them, and with a subtle nod of the man’s head, he rakes the coins into his pocket and pours out two cups of beer for them, sliding the glasses across the bar. Katsuki catches his mug and stares into the golden liquid whilst his partner downs the entire cup in ten seconds flat. The mug hits the wood with a slap, and Eijirou rocks in a closed-mouth burp as he wipes away the runoff that trickles from the corners of his lips.
The chatter is loud in their ears and conversations seem to overlap and intermingle until it morphs into a steady, yet dissonant white noise. Katsuki sips from his mug and lets the liquor settle on his tongue like tea, eyes skimming the faces of the others lined up at the bar. Eijirou eventually strikes up a conversation with the ranch hand next to him, and eventually, the two clear a table to settle down and play a round of poker. Katsuki huffs and leans his elbows against the bar.
“Lookin’ lonely there, mister,” a voice says, and he turns to see a well-dressed woman with her arms folded beneath her ample bosom. Her hair falls well past her shoulders, a fair fawn, face flawlessly dusted with powder whilst her plump lips glisten a juicy crimson. Those same lips curl into a sultry smile when Katsuki turns to fully face her, his own lips glued to the rim of his glass. She lolls her head at him, saying, “You look like you could use a little fun.”
He ponders the suggestion, and seconds later he’s nosing her neck in an alleyway.
It’s pitch black in the alley and he can hardly see where she’s pressed against the wooden wall of the buildings they slipped between. His hands traverse the contours of her body and his teeth nibble on a sensitive spot at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. His thigh presses against the stiff crinoline of her skirt, and he thumbs the soft flesh of her chest whilst testing the waters of dragging his fangs across her neck. The girl shudders— it’s pleasurable , he thinks as his fingers trace the outline of her jaw. Then his hand is wrapped around her neck, giving her larynx a gentle squeeze.
She mewls, though the sound is drowned out by the blood pooling in his ears and the vein pulsing against his teeth. The fleeting taste of blood plasma ghosts his taste buds and his saliva thickly coats his fangs. He flattens his tongue on the side of her neck and grips her throat harder; the girl lets out a strangled grunt muffled by the crushing pressure being applied to her windpipe.
She struggles.
Katsuki opens his mouth and sinks his teeth right into her jugular.
She stops moving.
He drinks from the open wound with noisy slurps and eases up on the sucking when her heart ceases its pumping and blood gradually stops pouring out from her neck. He prefers to keep his kills clean, unlike his partner, and just as he sets her corpse against the side of the building and wipes the corners of his mouth, Eijirou rounds the corner.
He's eager, Katsuki notices as Eijirou half-charges towards the corpse. He only glances at it, however, instead catching his breath before informing Katsuki of some tipoff he’s discovered. “There’s a train,” he starts off, removing his hat to swipe the back of his hand across his glistening forehead. “‘Pose to run through Grubrise before midnight ‘morrow night. I don’t think it was meant for my ears, though...”
Eijirou licks over his lips and replaces his hat on his head as he huffs through his nose, eyes skimming over the corpse between them. Blood soaks into the earth and stains the wispy grass littering the narrow alleyway. Katsuki brings his hand to his chin and furrows his brows as he ponders in silence.
“We're gonna have to move camp then,” he grumbles, spurs clinking as he steps over the growing puddle of blood and shuffles towards Eijirou. “We need to be close, but not too close that trouble can trail us back to camp.”
“Hurry up and eat,” he adds. Eijirou wastes no time, eagerly obeying the order with a hasty dive. Katsuki chuffs and shakes his head as he noisily slurps away, the sound bouncing between the walls closing them off from the main road. He moves to stand at the opening of the alley with the intention to take watch and ward off any drunken straddlers, but his mind wanders elsewhere as his eyes match up with the inky black sky. While Eijirou feasts to his heart’s content, he takes the time to calculate the specifics of their upcoming heist.
“Eijirou,” he hisses, and Eijirou’s head pops up from the deceased woman's neck to peer at him through the darkness. He hears his ragged breathing before the metallic stench of drying blood reaches his nose, “You can keep sucking all you want, but ain't nothin’ else gonna come out. Get your ass over here!” He growls in annoyance.
Eijirou obliges, naturally, head tucked between his shoulders as he sheepishly makes his way over to Katsuki.
“You're so messy,” he grumbles, pulling a handkerchief from his breast pocket and smearing off the traces of blood Eijirou's face. Once clean, he folds the cloth and tucks it back into his pocket, and minutes later, the hooves of their horses clack against the cobblestone path that leads them back out of town.
They arrive at camp and finish tearing it down just as the moon nears its peak in the night sky. Katsuki studies their map under the orange glow of a lantern whilst Eijirou straps their horses to the caravan wagon.
“You think the horses’ll be alright for the ride?” he asks, gently patting Riot down the length of her muzzle. She noses into his hand and huffs in content, and Eijirou gives her a final pat before hitching a foot onto the wagon’s toe board and hoisting himself onto the seat next to Katsuki.
“Should be,” he grunts. He hooks the lantern onto its holder and passes Eijirou their map in exchange for the horses’ reins, and with a light crack and a ‘Ya!’, the wheels of the wagon turn with a groan as they start their journey. “It’s a long drive,” Katsuki says, “but not too long that they’d need to stop and feed.”
“I’m glad we got to eat before we left,” murmurs Eijirou. Katsuki’s body rocks as he huffs a laugh through his nose.
“Not like it matters much to you with your damn appetite.” Beside him, Eijirou pouts at the comment. “What’s that face for? I teach you how to hunt and you still choose to raid the forest killin’ deer left and right.”
“Deer are easier to feast on, though!” Eijirou whines. “It’s hard enough tryna kill people without havin’ to draw a gun on ‘em.”
“You don’t need to shoot to kill, you just need self control.”
“Easy for you to say… old man.” Katsuki sends his elbow straight into the other’s ribs, and Eijirou lets out a cry that's soon replaced by a couple of playful snorts. They're in a clearing now, completely out of the woods, and in the distance, Katsuki sees where they'll have to make their left at the train station to set them down the right trail to Grubrise.
“Here, take the reins, and don’t crash us neither.” The map is back in Katsuki’s hands, and he skims it over once more whilst Eijirou gives the reins a shake and mumbles for their horses to pick up the pace. They fall into a light trot, hooves thudding against the earth. They veer left at the station just as a passenger train had pulled off from the platform. A herd of elk disperse over a hill just off the path; Eijirou trains his eye on them, studies them, but otherwise pays them no mind.
Katsuki turns his head and huffs. “Deer blood is disgusting, though, I don’t know how you stomach that crap.”
“Taste don’t mean a thing when you’re starvin’,” Eijirou shrugs.
“You’re no better than a wild dog, Eijirou Kirishima.” The redhead smirks, and Katsuki’s face mirrors his expression. He folds up their map and leans back into the bench with a sigh, his eyes fixated on the hill the elk had passed over moments ago. He stays focused on the spot until its out of his line of sight and he physically cannot crane his neck to gaze at it any longer. Instead, his attention shifts to the backs of their horses—Eijirou’s Ardennes and his white Arabian, King—and as the wagon rattles beneath him, his eyes shift to Riot, in particular.
Unlike King, Riot was a wild horse.
Brave and strong—words synonymous with Eijirou himself.
The great thing about being virtually immortal is that he could live long enough to notice the changes in other people, like how Eijirou still preferred to wear as little clothes as possible save for an open vest, or how the relationship between his patience and bloodlust began to stabilize over the years.
It was the early 1800s when reports of mutilated deer carcasses found in the nearby woodlands began to make waves in Katsuki’s home town. They feared the culprit to be a brown bear or a pack of wolves, but little did the town know that the real suspect was a young boy.
Katsuki discovered Eijirou during a private investigation—an order bestowed on him by his family. Eijirou had hair that could rival the raging red burn of the sky at dawn, highly unkempt and matted together from weeks of neglect. The look in his eye was wild, almost feral like that of a rabid wolf, and he had been in the midst of mangling the body of a buck when Katsuki found him.
The case had officially been solved, but…
Typically, vampires that seemed too far gone were to be killed. That was the rule—the law. For whatever reason, however, Katsuki couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger on his gun. He took him home instead. Cleaned him, fed him, complete rehabilitation. Looking back, things should’ve ended there, but they ended up on a passenger ship set for the promising land of America several months later.
And now, here they are traveling along the ever-expanding western frontier.
“What’cha thinkin’ ‘bout, ol’ geezer?” Eijirou’s already gawking at him when he looks over. He huffs.
“Where I’m gonna shoot you if you call me a geezer another goddamn time.”
Eijirou’s laughter rivals the chirps of crickets. “You wouldn’t dare,” he challenges, grinning. “You’re too sweet on me to do somethin’ like that.”
He’s right, though it’s not something he’d admit out loud. “That’s debatable.”
“There is no debate once I remind you of how you practically swept me off my feet and brought us all the way out here to America’s wild, wild west,” Eijirou teases. Katsuki rolls his eyes elsewhere as to not get caught in his trap—that stupidly bright grin of his, one that could rival the sparkle of the stars themselves. Beneath the sounds and songs of the night, Eijirou murmurs, “‘S nice, though... You can’t see the stars like this in Europe…”
But here… out here where the grass was plush and the skies weren’t cloudy all day, he could breathe .
Surely, those who were ignorant of his bloodline would brand him a fool for ditching a far more luxurious lifestyle for the nomadic condition that came with running from the problems they’d caused. Countless lives were taken in exchange for earning their keep—for surviving another day in their inevitable spiral into the life of an outlaw. It’s all worth it if it meant more nights like this where he can look up and count the flecks of white on a black backsplash, the mountains to his east while the terrain dips and curves at his west; where every night the moon frosts the earth in an ivory that’s never the same as the night prior.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Eijirou says, bringing him back into reality. “Did I say somethin’ wrong?”
Katsuki looks at him in a new light—or moonlight, rather. Outlined in pearly white, he’s a fallen angel of the night if such a thing exists. Eijirou’s skin is smooth against his palm and his lips are as tender and sweet as a fresh peach. Katuski sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, gentle as to not pierce through his flesh. He sucks into him, reveling in the lingering taste of copper on his tongue before ending things with a close-mouthed kiss. Eijirou gawks at him, thoroughly entranced, and Katsuki would've continued where he left off if the sudden jolt of the wagon hadn't forbid him from doing so.
“Watch the reins,” he warns, wiping away the remnants of saliva with the pad of his thumb.
“Okay.”
- •••
A day passes after they set new camp, and night falls once more before the duo sets out north of Grubise side by side, at a steady gallop. Their ride is quiet, though it’s a comforting silence rather than an awkward one. Then, with the moon high above them, Eijirou disrupts their peaceful midnight travels with a puzzled observation—“There’s a wagon up ahead.”
“At this time of night?” Katsuki frowns and slows King to a light trot. Eijirou matches his speed, drawing closer. The wagon ahead of them rattles on its frame with every bump it passes over, wheels wobbling on their axles. Its back is covered with a tarp, and whatever is in there, likely glass bottles or something similar, clinks against each other noisily. There are two riders—typical, but Katsuki finds it strange that the two would be travelling around with goods at this hour.
“Could be dinner,” ponders Eijirou. Katsuki glares at him.
“We just ate.”
“And?”
It’s a silent war between Eijirou’s smirk and Katsuki’s challenging scowl until Katsuki taps his spurs against King’s sides. The horse jerks his head before picking up his pace, a leisurely gallop. He glances at Eijirou and nods for him to stay behind. He nods back, though the look on his face shows he'd rather not. Katsuki turns his eyes back to the wagon as he draws nearer, but all too suddenly, it begins to pick up speed. His brows twitch together when the driver fiercely whips his reins and cries out, and his partner seems to fumble for something before turning around.
A shot rings out into the night, and Katsuki barely misses the bullet that manages to graze his shoulder.
“Fuck!” he curses, lowering himself over his horse as he reaches for his gun holster. “Eijirou!” he calls, and Riot charges forward with him in tow just as Katsuki pulls back the hammer of his revolver.
“Already on it!” Eijirou shouts back as he passes on his right with one of his own guns locked and loaded at his hip. Katsuki steers left as another bullet whizzes by, just barely chafing the skin of his ear. He locks eyes with his attacker, urging King into a full on sprint to catch up with them. The man notices Eijirou riding alongside them and turns to shoot, though Katsuki quickly takes aim and clips his shoulder just before he pulls the trigger. He cries out, swinging at Eijirou when he jumps from his horse to board the wagon.
The two struggle while the driver fights to keep the wagon on the path. Eijirou eventually gets a firm hold on the man's collar and whacks his temple with the butt of his gun. The hit dazes him long enough for Eijirou to toss him overboard and go for the driver. Hammer already down, Katsuki lines his shot with the iron sight of his weapon and squeezes the trigger.
Bang!
“Whoa!” Eijirou cries, catching the man’s body when he slumps into him. He then pries the reins from the dead man’s hands and brings the wagon to a full stop. He looks to Katsuki as he trots up on his horse, joking, “Couldn’t let me get the two for two?”
Katsuki huffs. “As if I’d let you have all the fun.”
A snort escapes Eijirou’s throat as he jumps down from the wagon and watches Katsuki down his horse. “That was a lot of noise, don't you think?”
“Eh,” Katsuki grumbles, “As long as we clear out before the law shows up, we'll be fine.”
“So what about the bodies?”
“Just don't make a mess outta them,” Katsuki mutters as he rounds the back end of the wagon. Eijirou hisses a small ‘Yes!’ just as Katsuki pulls up part of the tarp to rummage the edge of the bed with the barrel of his gun. Assuming its a safe load, he rips off the tarp only to find yet another man hiding amongst boxes of moonshine. He pops up ready to draw, but Katsuki draws quicker—he puts a bullet in his skull before the man can get his finger on the trigger. He slumps back to the floor of the bed, dead.
“Well then,” Katsuki mumbles. He pockets his weapon, climbs onto the wagon bed with a grunt, and makes his way through the small labyrinth of boxes towards the fresh corpse. “Here's another snack,” he says to Eijirou when he throws it over. Eijirou lunges towards the new kill and immediately sinks his fangs into the gradually cooling flesh. Katsuki tsks at him from above and turns away from the messy display to search the wagon.
Amid cartons of moonshine jugs is a lockbox, which luckily for them, wasn't locked as it should be. Katsuki flips the latch and opens the lid to see what he assumes are stolen accessories—jewelry, rings, pocket watches and the like. He shifts those aside to search the bottom and finds a bunch of papers hidden beneath, and upon closer inspection of one in particular, he quickly turns to Eijirou again.
“Hey, wait a minute, Ei,” he calls, though his partner’s too caught up in finishing his meal to acknowledge him. Katsuki jumps down from the wagon and whacks him against the head with the paper. “I said wait, you damn mongrel!”
“Wha’?” he slurs when Katsuki practically peels him off of the body. Katsuki shoves the paper into his hands, and Eijirou reads through it while licking around the red painting his face. “A bounty… Neito Monoma, eh? Well he's…”
He pauses to glance down at the pale corpse and huffs. “Lookin’ a lil’ dry now.”
“Yeah, thanks to you.” Katsuki snatches the bounty poster from his hands and rolls it up, jerking his head towards the body. “You could've at least saved somethin’ for me.”
Eijirou grins at him sheepishly as he wipes his mouth clean while Katsuki rolls his eyes. Changing the subject, Eijirou asks, “We turnin’ him in to Sheriff Iida? It does say ‘dead or alive’.”
“Of course,” Katsuki answers as he takes out his knife and kneels beside Monoma’s body. He tilts his head, exposing the neck where there’s evidence of a bite. He dips the tip of his knife into the wound and eases it down, cutting a line into the mark to disguise it as though a slash to the throat. Remnants of blood ooze from the wound, and Katsuki wipes his knife clean on the dead man's clothes. “We can get a good fifty for turnin’ him in.”
“What about the train?”
“We have time.” Katsuki checks his pocket watch to confirm this. “Hurry up and loot that lockbox of theirs, and we'll ride by the sheriff’s office before hittin’ that train.”
Eijirou complies with his demand, climbing onto the wagon while Katsuki stows Monoma on the back of his horse.
“Are we takin’ one of these bottles of moonshine too?”
Katsuki looks to where Eijirou is holding up one of the jugs and tsks. “S’long as you don't drink it all without sharin’.”
Eijirou hops down from the wagon with a cheer, and after boarding his own horse, they ride into town to turn in the bounty, making no promises of staying out of trouble themselves. And with moonshine in their bellies and a train on the horizon, Katsuki feels himself smiling merrily as he looks over at Eijirou. Eijirou steadies his horse, the look in his eyes mischievous.
“Let's make a wager,” he offers. “Whoever gets the most kills treats the other to two rounds of drinks, yeah?”
“I hope you can afford two rounds,” quips Katsuki, and he reaches over to give him a quick peck on the lips before Eijirou takes off towards the train chugging down the tracks.
“Yeah yeah, first round’s on you!” he calls out. Katsuki shakes his head, tightening his grip on his reins before he follows, grinning feverishly as the wind whips through his hair and the chill of night burns his nose. He bolts past Eijirou with his gun loaded, ready for this challenge as well as the many that would surely come to pass so long as they breathed the same wild, free, open air.
Eijirou’s laughter is heard over the roar of the train whilst Katsuki yells his challenge into the night—
“As fuckin’ if!”