A Night in Mercy's Saloon (OC story, word count: 2303)

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OC story featuring my half orc cowboy oc Esto (he/they) and my friend's undead human cowboy oc Shiloh (he/him) :3 Enjoy!!

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There’s a troupe of travelling bards in town, and that always means a busy night in the saloon. Esto promised he’d help Mercy with the rambunctious patrons after his work in the stables is through, and he’s glad he did; the saloon is as alive as ever. The band is an assortment of talents - strings, piano, drums, even a couple brass - to which the weary denizens of the town have welcomed openly. Their music is lively, upbeat, perfect to dance to, and has made the growing fatigue weighing down upon his shoulders much more bearable as the evening crawls on.

While he cleans another glass to hand to Mercy, Esto thinks of Shiloh, and of how much he’s missing out on. He’s been out of town for a few days now, taking Esto’s beloved horse Sweetpea for a longer errand to a local town. Although he tried to offer to do it for him - the gods know even with her gentle nature, no horse will be easy on his aching legs - Shiloh insisted it was his errand to run, not Esto’s. “Besides,” he had said, “As much as I like this little town, I’m never quite settled. It’ll be good for me. No worries in that head of yours, partner.”  Even so, Esto knows how important music is to Shiloh. He’s upset he’s missing the chance to talk to others of the craft.

“What’s goin’ on in there, amigo? That glass givin’ you the stink eye?” Mercy leans over next to him, completely drawing him out of his train of thought. 

“Oh! Sorry, this is dry and clean now.” He hands the glass to Mercy, “Just got lost in thought.”

“Your cowboy is fine, kid. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” He winks, and Esto glances away in embarrassment. Was it that obvious? 

Nevertheless, Mercy pulled him out of his head to get him back to work, and that he does. There are still mugs to clean, and the stock of napkins looks like it's getting low. He should run out back and make sure that gets topped up soon…

Just as the thought of perhaps gathering notations of the troupe’s pieces for Shiloh crosses his mind, another patron enters the saloon.

“Well speak of the devil, they say.”

Esto turns to meet the newcomer, and is met with the easy smile of Shiloh approaching the bar.

He has to physically stop himself from vaulting over the bartop and kissing him silly - oh, he’s missed Shiloh so much - instead taking enough steps forwards as to where he’s only leaning heavily against it as Shiloh takes a seat on one of the stools.

“You’re back!!”

“You’re a handsome one. When are you off shift?” 

Esto blushes immediately, wide eyed and stammering until once again Mercy comes to his rescue.

“As soon as he’s poured your drink. The usual, whiskey?”

“Please.”

A protest is upon his lips in a moment.

"But the napkins–"

"Aren't bein' used. Look at those tables, we'll be scrubbin' for months. Go on. You weren't supposed to be workin' this late anyway."

He bows his head thankfully, then gets to work on pouring Shiloh his drink. He listens to Shiloh and Mercy talk as he does so.

“Trip go smoothly?”

“Not a single rock on the road. Sweetpea was a darlin’, too.”

“I don’t think he’d hear anythin’ less, to be honest.”

Hearing Shiloh’s laugh again is like music to his ears. 

“Well, it's his hard work that keeps her sweet.”

He turns around and delivers the glass of whiskey to Shiloh with a little flourish. Just before he can bring it to his lips, though, Esto hastily puts his own hand over the glass.

“Wait, hold on a second.”

Esto makes quick work of getting out from behind the bar - simply ducking under the fold up entrance instead of unlatching it - and heads to where Shiloh is seated. When he’s standing directly in front of him, he tips Shiloh’s cowboy hat just back enough that it won’t get in the way and kisses him soundly on the mouth. 

Shiloh’s momentary shock doesn’t dissuade him, nor does Mercy’s exasperated chuckle from where he is definitely watching. Only once Shiloh returns the affections, gently placing a hand on his hip, does he let himself take a step back.

“I missed you. And I wanted at least one kiss where I’m not tasting the whiskey on your breath.”

“Missed you too, partner.”

Esto stares at Shiloh, for a moment. Not thinking anything in particular, just letting the overwhelming  feeling of having him back home wash over him. Feels the hand on his hip, looks at the dust from the road yet to be wiped clean from his face...

"Esto." 

"Hmm?"

"You can sit down, y'know."

"Oh."

He sits back onto the stool next to Shiloh's, and is immediately hit with a wave of exhaustion. It settles deep into his bones, slouching him like all his energy is being pulled out and into the ground below. The noise of the saloon fades into a fuzz around his heavy head, brain empty of all thought. Esto rubs his eyes somewhat dazedly. 

"You alright there?" When Esto takes his hands away, he sees Shiloh looking at him with a look of mild concern. 

"Mmm. Tired."

"Go sleep then. I'll be here in the mornin'." 

Esto perks himself up immediately.

"No, not yet, you just got back. I wanna spend time with you!"

Shiloh huffs under his breath, smiling fondly back at him. He then shuffles his stool close enough to his that they're almost touching, and pulls him into his side, so they've both got their backs to the bar. Esto reaches up to Shiloh's hand over his shoulder (for the other one holds his whiskey glass) and holds it in his. 

"How are your legs? You've been riding all day, the pain must be bad." 

"Not the best, not the worst. I'm doing alright, love. Wanna spend time with you, too." 

Esto hums, resting his head on his partner's shoulder as the band starts up a new song. This one is just as lively as the rest of them - the patrons occupying the tables closest to the stage cheering in raucous joy when the pace picks up and the singer begins to dance to the sound of the instrumentation. 

"Are the band new, or travellin'? They're pretty good." Shiloh asks.

"They're just in town for the next few days I think, got some rooms here. Been debating how to get the music to you if you didn't make it tonight - I'm surprised you didn't go right for them."

"Well," Shiloh tilts his head to look down at him, Esto meeting his eye. "Maybe that's because I only 'ave eyes for you." He coyly drags a finger down the side of Esto's neck, ensuring that not a single thought passes through his mind as he shoves his face into his shoulder.

"Shilooooh!" 

Shiloh's laugh is quiet but joyful, rumbling up into Esto’s body where he's leant against his side. It only serves to further fluster him, trying to convince himself that if he hides his face in Shiloh's shoulder enough, the rest of the world will fade away. Or at least he'll stop feeling Mercy's fond gaze in their direction. 

Eventually, with the music playing and the comfort of Shiloh's arm around his shoulders, Esto relaxes. He lets the music wash over him - the melodic voice of the singer, the twang of the guitar, the steady pace of the bass and the spike of the piano as the solo takes off. He can’t help but doze amongst all the warmth and energy of the saloon. Shiloh comments on one of the band member’s performances every now and then, pointing out a technique they used or something he was interested in learning, and Esto tries his hardest to follow along - but even when he isn't half asleep, his musical knowledge does not expand much beyond the piano. He sleepily makes a mental reminder in his head to ask Shiloh to re-explain it all tomorrow. 

“Hey.” Shiloh shakes his shoulder lightly, jostling him back awake.

“Mmmwhat?” An unknown amount of time has passed, but the room is a lot quieter now.

“The band has finished now.” A kiss is placed on his forehead. “Go get ready for bed, yeah? I wanna talk to them real quick.” Esto nods, still slightly asleep, letting Shiloh extract himself from his side with only a little resistance. He watches him take a few steps forward, turn around, and make a little shoo motion with both his hands back at him with a smile. Only then does he start slowly making his way to the stairs tucked behind the back wall of the bar. 

Getting ready for bed once he’s in his room is an easy affair. He doesn’t have any dedicated sleep clothes, so he just grabs one of his old shirts out of the drawer and pulls it over his head. This one has a few holes in it, but it’ll be fine to sleep in. There’s a small basin of water he keeps for washing his face, and after a quick scrub, Esto near throws himself into bed with a sigh. He knew the night would take a lot out of him, but he feels like he could sleep for the next three days and not feel a single bit rested. He supposes he still has some work to do before he’s identified his limits. The doc had told him to try to take it easy on himself, but pushing the limit helps to identify where it is, right? 

Another unknown blip of time passes while he sinks into the softness of the bed. He only picks his head up when he hears the door knob turn, watching Shiloh enter the room and quietly get himself ready. The lamp on the bedside table is the only light source - Shiloh doesn’t notice he's still awake. 

Esto watches Shiloh put his hat on the top of the drawers, tying his locs back out the way to wash his face of all the dirt and grime of the road. A few droplets of water run a path down his neck, all too similar to how he trailed his finger along Esto’s earlier in the night, and if they weren’t both so worn out from the day's work, he’d entertain the idea of following it up with his lips. Instead, he simply follows Shiloh’s hands with his eyes from the bed as he begins undressing, admiring every inch of exposed skin and the movements of his body in the low light. 

His eyes then catch sight of the partially healed wound along his torso, and he suddenly looks away. 

Shiloh’s explained to him time and time again that it doesn’t hurt, darlin’, and it can’t get infected or nothin’, but it still stirs his stomach to see such a stark reminder of his painful past upon his body. There’s not a part of Shiloh he doesn’t love, but he tries not to think about what that mark means on most days. 

He looks back up when he hears rustling, just in time to watch Shiloh pull his shirt over his head. Despite their height difference, Shiloh’s lithe frame means the shirt is rather baggy. It hangs off his shoulders, exposing his collarbone and skirting the tops of his thighs, just past his hips. 

It’s at this moment - Esto shamelessly checking out his partner half naked wearing his shirt - that Shiloh notices he’s awake.

“Enjoying the view there?” 

Esto shoves his face into his pillow faster than ever. Shiloh, like always, just laughs at his embarrassment. 

When the bed finally dips, he wiggles back until there is enough room for Shiloh to slide under the covers. He makes sure to straighten himself out, giving him all the space to position himself however he needs. Shiloh sucks in a breath when he moves his legs, bending them slightly until they’re in a position with the least tension. Esto reaches over the gap between their chests to entwine their hands together. 

“I’m sorry your legs hurt, darlin’.” 

Shiloh shakes his head, releasing his held breath into the quiet of the room. “Nobody’s fault. Just how it be sometimes.” 

“Still...” Esto wishes every day that he could take Shiloh's pain away. He doesn't think he deserves any of it. 

“At the very least, you’ll be getting lots of morning cuddles. I’m not moving for a while.”

Esto chuckles. “Assuming I’ll be awake before noon is pretty bold of you.” 

Shiloh frowns and reaches his unoccupied hand across to tuck a few stray hairs out of Esto’s face, bringing his knuckles gently along his cheek. Esto shifts his head to lay a kiss along his fingers in thanks.

“Do you have work tomorrow?” 

“No, Mercy said he’d only let me help out tonight if I took it off. It felt silly at the time, but I’m glad I did now.”

“Good. I’m glad he’s takin’ care of you when I can’t.”  

Esto curls forward - careful to keep his legs away from Shiloh’s - until he can smell whiskey on his breath. The quilt falls off his shoulders in the process, but he pays it no mind in favour of gently pressing their lips together. 

“Hush. You take care of me plenty.”

They spend a few moments simply kissing, revelling in feeling each other’s touch on their skin, breathing the same air and sharing warmth. Eventually though, their individual aches and fatigues force them to part. They press their foreheads together instead, content to simply have contact throughout the night.

“Love you.” Esto whispers into the space between their faces.

“Love you too, partner.” Shiloh replies. “Sleep well - I'll be here.”