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He had one hour. The last weeks and months that he had spent watching John and studying his behavior and little quirks had taught him the dark haired man chewed on his fingernails when he was bored, that he loved reading his son's penny dreadfuls and that he stole cigarettes from Arthur on a regular basis. He had also learned that the other indulged in the most unhealthy drinking habits and what happened when he had one drink too many. The dark haired gunslinger could hold his alcohol remarkably well, but it was pretty much like with everything in his life: He never knew when it was enough. John liked to drink until the world around him was turned upside down and until everything became too hazy and blurry to be real anymore. It was always one more cup with him and when he had reached that point where it was just one cup too many he would just keel over and be out like a light, totally unresponsive to whatever was going on for more or less one hour. It was this hour he was looking forward to. One sweet and blissful hour of having John to himself. This was the one of the advantages when so many people lived together in close quarters, sharing everything with each other, even the best kept secrets. One could openly watch another person without being noticed and he had watched and learned so much during the last weeks. The irony was that even though everybody was looking out for the other nobody really noticed or cared when one of them was gone for a while. It seemed that Lady Luck was on his side tonight. John had started to drink even before dinner time, laughing and talking amicably with his fellow gang members while smoking Arthur's cigarettes. His dark eyes glittering with mirth as he chortled at one of the silly stories that Uncle was so fond of telling, his husky voice even rougher than usual from the cigarette smoke and the sharp bite of the alcohol he was drinking. Even when Arthur, sour faced and irritable as always, grabbed the cigarette that was dangling between John's lips he kept his good mood, giving the older man a slightly lopsided grin that one could only describe as charming when he saw him finishing the half-smoked butt. He was drunk before most of the others had even opened their bottles of beer or whiskey. After a couple of more sips from the bottle of whatever he was drinking that night John tried to put the bottle down only to have the liquid spill messily around his feet. He was already too drunk to follow what was going on around him and unable to even articulate himself anymore. With a graceless bow and an clumsy wave he bid the rest of the group around the camp fire goodnight, his eyes glassy and unfocused, swaying and fighting to keep his balance when he got up from the crate and started to walk towards his tent. Lady Luck indeed. It was definitely the perfect night for what he had planned. The next hour would be enough for him to take what he had craved more and more during the last weeks. John had just vanished inside his tent, almost falling flat on his face as he stumbled over one of the ropes the tent was secured with. He gave the dark haired man a couple of seconds, it should be enough to have him fast asleep, before following his steps. The soft rustling of the tent flaps opening was the only sound he heard when he entered the tent silently and took in the sight of John sprawled on the boar rug in front of his cot, lying on his stomach, his face pillowed on one of his arms. John looked relaxed, his breathing calm and even. If he wouldn't just lie right in front of his own cot it would be easy to assume that he was only sleeping. His heart was beating fast in his chest and he had to wipe his sweaty hands on his pant after he closed the flap of the tent behind him. The smell of cheap liquor and camp fire was tingling in his nose as he bent down and shook John's shoulder, making sure that the other man was indeed no longer conscious. An almost burned down candle was flickering in the corner of the tent, giving the strangely peaceful scene a warm, golden touch. It was exactly like he had imaged it to be. The excitement of finally being able to touch John rushed through him and made him almost forget to check his pocket watch. He needed to make sure that this was done right and he also needed to make sure that he didn't waste any more time. The other gang members hadn't seen him when he left his spot in the shadows. They were too busy celebrating a small and rather unimportant robbery that only brought them a couple of Dollars. It was enough to get them into high spirits, just too happy that they found a reason to forget the grim reality of their day to day existence for a couple of hours. They could indulge in their moment of entertainment and distraction, he had already found his own. He slowly started combing through the dirty, dark locks with gentle fingers before tracing one of the scars on John's cheek with the tip of his index finger. The skin looked still red and irritated and he wondered what John would look like after they had healed completely. Dark lashes fluttered for a short moment as his fingernail got caught on one of the stitches and he held his breath almost on reflex, but John thankfully didn't open his eyes. With an apology that was softly murmured against the other man's ear he pressed his lips to one of the high cheekbones, peppering tiny kisses over his cheek and closed eyelids. A soft sigh escaped John as he felt the gentle touch. The small noise brought a smile to his face. John looked like a ragged and shabby version of sleeping beauty, so innocent and vulnerable that it made his heart jump. Just that he felt no intention of kissing him awake and that was more than eager to see this sleeping beauty asleep for a while longer. He would have loved to take his time, to unwrap John Marston like the precious gift that he was for him, to touch him and feel his skin under his lips and tongue, to make him moan and gasp in his deep sleep. But, alas, he only had so long until this precious hour was over. With a tender kiss to John's slightly open lips he started undressing him. The suspenders came off with a snap and he discarded them into a corner of the tent. It took a bit of effort to roll John to his side so that he could reach his pants, the dark haired man was a complete dead weight in his drunken state, but once it was done he would finally be able to enjoy the body of the other man as he always wanted to. He straddled John's legs and let his hands travel under the dark shirt the other man wore that day, caressing the warm and surprisingly soft skin underneath, revealing narrow hips and the appealing slope of his back when he pushed the shirt further up his back. The sight was already mouth watering and he cursed the dim light provided by the single candle that was flickering feebly. The urgent desire to see more of this wonderful, smooth skin that was revealed to him made him wish he could have waited until sunrise, yet he knew that this was not possible. One hour was all he had. He marveled again on the sleeping form below him. So fragile, so pliant and beautiful in his current state of deathlike sleep that he could probably do anything without rousing the other man. With little effort he pulled the pair of jeans over John's hips, revealing the creamy pale skin of his small round ass cheeks, untouched by the sun and without any scars or blemishes. He would have happily spent the rest of the night touching and caressing the soft flesh, worshiping the firm twin globes that were everything he had ever imagined. The pocket watch that was glinting golden in the candlelight reminded him that time was not on his side. He took the small globes in his hands and spread them carefully apart so that the small entrance to John's body was revealed. It looked perfect and so inviting. He couldn't help himself as he leaned down and licked a wet stripe over the small pink hole and he could feel it quivering when he unsuccessfully tried to press the tip of his tongue in. It would definitely take a bit more time to get him ready. A quick glance at his watch told him that he could spare a couple of minutes. He could indulge in a bit of teasing. He also wanted the boy as relaxed as possible for what he planned to do. With impatient haste he opened the small vial that he had brought with him and spread the fragrant oily substance over his fingers, before slipping his hand between the the two mounds. He started rubbing his slick fingers over the small hole, before slipping the tip of one of his fingers inside. It was giving away under the pressure only reluctantly, slowly opening up and allowing the digit to slide in deeper. When he pulled out again he could see the rim pucker up, like a kiss around his knuckes, like it was trying to keep him inside him. He pushed in again and watched his finger sink deeper into John's ass, rotating it to spread the slippery oil inside the other man. John was breathing out a small hitching sigh when he felt the movement inside him and he hushed the other man with a small kiss to the back of his neck. He should have known that his darling boy was sensitive and responsive even in his deep slumber. “It's not that bad, is it, my sweet?” He asked, smiling affectionately at the unconscious man as he introduced another finger into the small hole, feeling the muscles gradually relax around his fingers when he started to move them in and out of the warm and smooth passage with a steady rhythm. He was thankful that John was not able to really tense up in his tranquil state. Everything was just so much easier like this. Everything was so much more perfect like this. He thought about pressing a third finger into the eager hole that was swallowing two of his fingers already so nicely, but decided against it. The oil he had used would be enough to make it an easy slide and he wanted to feel John open up around his cock when he finally pushed deep into the snug tightness of his body. With a last deep push and stretch of his fingers that made Johns legs twitch he removed his fingers and opened his own pants. He gave a relieved groan when he felt his hard length spring free, the deep red of his dickhead a stark contrast to the lily white skin of John's buttocks. The small vial almost slipped from his still slippery fingers when he picked it up again and removed the stopper. He spread the rest of the oil over his dick and dropped the empty vial without any care. It was time to make John his. With slippery hands he spread John's ass cheeks again, seeing the small furl twitch as he hooked his thumps under the rim of John's ass, opening the slick hole up as he positioned his dick right above the entrance. A small drop of precum was beading at the tip of his cock and he smeared it over the stretched rim before starting to press in, the tight ring of muscles slowly opening wider around the head of his cock and letting him slide into the body of the sleeping man. Even in his relaxed state John was wonderfully tight, the slick and velvety walls clinging to his cock as he sank deeper into the warmth of the body under him. A small snuffling sound drew his attention to John's face and made him pause. It took a lot not to just fuck deep into the the hot tightness, but he needed to make sure that the other was still not awake before he continued this wonderful and maddening slide into the once tiny, pale hole that was now trembling slightly around his length. With a murmured praise on his lips he bottomed out, closing his eyes for a moment and enjoying the feeling of being balls deep John's perfect little ass. Even though he knew that it was unlikely that he could hurt John in his relaxed and unconscious state he gave him couple of seconds to get used to the length inside him. He would make sure that the dark haired man would feel nothing but a slight uncomfortable soreness tomorrow. “It's alright, love, just relax.” His voice was nothing but a low soothing murmur against the soft and warm skin of John's neck as he started to move his hips. John uttered another small sound in reply, still too far gone to realize what was happening to him. He started to lazily rock into him, petting his hips and thighs with gentle hands and relished the feeling of John's slick hole opening up slowly with every roll of his hips, making him slide deeper and deeper into the welcoming heat. This is what he had been dreaming about. This is what he knew he would have and what he knew he would want again. This perfect boy all willing and pliant and easy. He pulled out slowly, dragging his cockhead over the tight rim, before he pushed back in again. The hot coil in his stomach when he suddenly felt the other man clench around him before he went slack and relaxed again had him pant out John's name. He could already feel the tingling numb sensation in the tips of his toes and fingers that was a telltale sign that he wouldn't last much longer. His hand spanned over the soft skin of John's back as he sped up his thrusts, still still keeping them as gentle as possible. The soft slapping sound of skin against skin and his fast breathing were the only sounds that filled the tent as he thrust into the man below him in long firm strokes. The power he had over the other man made him almost drunk. How would it be, he wondered, if John would regain consciousness now? The other man would surely be able to feel the hard thrusts in him and he would slowly realizing that he was getting fucked, that he was being taken like a cheap two dollar whore who was stupid enough not to charge her customer before spreading her legs, something that woman that called herself his wife probably had already enough experience with. He almost wished that he could see his unfocused dark brown eyes blink open, trying to understand what was going on, still too drunk to have full control of his limbs, but getting more and more aware what was happening to him. What would he be able to see in those dark eyes when John realized it was him who was using his body against his will? Would he see fear? Betrayal? Fury? Would he try to fight him off? The thought of John struggling under him, trying to buck him of pushed him faster towards his orgasm than he would have expected it. But even if the dark haired man would wake up now he wouldn't stop. He couldn't, not with the divine sensation of the smooth, warm skin under his hands and the wet heat surrounding his cock so perfectly. He would hold John down, muffle his shouts by pressing a hand over his mouth and grasping a fistful of John's dark and dirty hair, forcing his head into the fur below him and making him take every inch of his cock, making him feel every hard thrust into his resisting body until the struggles would lessen and until John would finally accept that he was his. What he would give to have John spread his legs for him willingly, leaning into his touch with the the same coquettish smile on his lips that he had given Arthur earlier. But right now this was enough. John, this sweet and lovely boy, just lying there, blissfully unaware of the man that was taking his pleasure from his body. He muffled a moan by pressing his face into the fabric of the shirt that was bunched up around John's back and neck, breathing in the intoxicating smell of the man that he was finally able to fuck after so many weeks he had spent biding his time. Even though he didn't intend to hurt the dark haired man he was gripping the narrow hips so tight that he was sure that some bruises would adorn the pale skin tomorrow. It just felt too good. The tight clench of John's ass was enough to drive him closer and closer to the edge. He could feel his orgasm approaching so fast that it made him light headed. It was one thought that pushed him over the edge. He was going to come inside this fascinating, selfish, brash and gorgeous man. He was going to defile him in the most indecent way, claiming him and leaving the evidence behind that John was indeed his. And there was nothing the dark haired man could do to prevent it. The grin that was tucking at his lips as he fucked into John with hard and short thrusts turned into an almost pained grimace when he ground his teeth and almost bit his tongue to keep back the moan that was threatening to escape him as he felt the waves of his orgasm crash over him. He spilled his seed deep inside the slumbering man, feeling the abused and sore rim flutter feebly around his dick when he grabbed his shaft and milked the last drops out of his cock before pushing back into the slick entrance with a wet, squelching sound. With his heart beating fast in his chest and his lungs heaving as if he had just run a mile he closed his eyes and stayed like this for a minute or two, feeling his cock softening inside the warm and slippery wet passage. John was still fast asleep and totally unresponsive, his raggedy and ruined sleeping beauty still under the spell. Slowly and carefully he pulled out of the other and wiped himself clean on a handkerchief he had brought with him. He didn't bother cleaning up the mess he had left on John, instead he took hold of the slim hips that were already showing the first dark blotchy spots before expecting the damage he had left on the body of the other. He loved the debauched sight that was presented to him. The small round cheeks of John's ass had a pleasing rosy glow to them and the once pale and tiny hole looked raw and red and was gaping slightly, glistening obscenely with the pearly white and sticky fluid that was slowly seeping out of him and dripping over his balls. “Now, now, sweetheart, we cannot have that.” he commented as he gathered up the droplets of come with his finger and pushed them back into the pliant body, massaging the small opening until it was fully closed again. He wanted to make sure that John would feel his seed inside him when he woke up again. It was his mark he would leave on and inside John's body. With a last tender kiss to one of the pale ass cheeks he pulled John's pants up again, not bothering to close the buttons. There was no need for modesty, the boy would know anyways that somebody had used him for their own pleasure. He was looking forward to seeing John struggling with the reality of what had happened. The next days would be interesting. Knowing John he would probably try and fail to ignore what had been done to him. His pride and arrogance battling with his need for the truth and his thirst for revenge. In the end the dark haired man would probably try to find out who it had been that had taken advantage of his unconscious and drunken state. Maybe he would ask questions, maybe he would just accuse somebody who looked funny at him, maybe he would just shoot the person who he thought it had been just to realize that he would never know the answers to his questions. He couldn't wait to see how this wonderful man that had reacted so sweetly to his touch and caresses would react to finding himself confronted with something that he couldn't solve with a bullet. Maybe he himself would even offer some comfort to John, soothing the shame, the humiliation and the helpless frustration them dark haired man would probably feel with his kind words and well meant advise. The ticking of his clock brought him back from his thoughts. There was no time to dwell on the possibilities. He needed to leave. With a sigh he kneelt over the sleeping man and took a last look at the handsome face, eyes still closed, brows now slightly furrowed in discomfort, his mouth forming a small “O” as if to questions what had just happened to him. The sight of the puzzled and slightly troubled look on his face was just too adorable and it made him yearn to touch and kiss John again. If he would just have more time to hold him in his arms until he woke up. “Sleep tight, sweetheart,” he murmured as he brushed a couple of dark strands out of his face before he got up and left the tent. When closed the flaps of the tent behind him he let his hand rest on the canvas. He already missed the feeling of John's warm skin, but there was no use to let his thoughts linger on something he could now have. With a small rueful smile he turned around and almost collided with somebody who was standing directly behind him. It was Arthur, a beer bottle in his hand and swaying slightly on the spot unsteadily. The other man was obviously as drunk as the rest of the gang. With a small frown the blond cowboy looked at him, then at John's tent and then back at him, trying to understand what he had just seen and why he had seen him coming out of the tent. It seemed Lady Luck had found another partner in crime. He had hoped that he would be able to avoid being discovered by anybody. “I'm … uh, have you seen John?” Arthur finally asked, a slight slur to his voice, still looking unsure and confused why he had encountered him here in front of John's tent He could feel his lips twist upwards in a smile. Dear old Arthur Morgan, always hoping for the best in his fellow gang members and always expecting the worst. “Just checked on him. Let him sleep, Arthur,” He answered. He didn't want to bother with the other man or his drunken inquisitiveness. The feeling of John Marston's body was still too fresh on his mind and he wanted to enjoy the tingling buzz that was still coursing through his veins after days and weeks of waiting for the right moment to take what he knew would be his from the moment he had laid eyes on the boy. Arthur nodded reluctantly, but there was a look of something in his eyes made him almost reconsider his plan. He knew the the other man had a soft spot for John, even though he never really bothered to find out what was between them when they were not fighting and arguing with each other. Arthur might be a fool, but he was not stupid. The man was already guessing that something was not right, but what was the chances of him being found out? Even if Arthur decided to investigate and look for John he would find nothing else than a drunk and passed out man, sleeping peacefully in his crinkled clothes and dreaming of things that couldn't possibly be true. He knew he had nothing to fear, because the devil only comes for the souls of the righteous men.