That's why they call me gregarious.

by orphan_account

Summary:

There's a reason. A reason for all things; Bob Ford is that reason.

[A time difference; Non-canon years 20's-30's]

Chapter 1

Bob opened his book and turned the page. mouth wide open and ecstatic eyes. He could spend hours lying there reading the famous James Brothers Train Robberies again. His weight moving caused his bed to creak, and the apple juice that leaked onto his fingers made it sticky. Robert Ford felt underwhelmed by the word "entertained." These tales kept his brain active, his heart beating, and his life vibrant. His life had been fairly difficult thus far. His brothers were obnoxious slobs and idiots. After their mother passed away, his father never got up from the recliner in front of the fire. His hands tightly gripping a whiskey bottle. 

When the fire started, he would fling those bottles at it as if the flames had killed his wife. Robert was the youngest member of his family. Promised a meaningful existence, yet years had passed and no promises had ever been kept. Charlie, his brother, has made two new pals on his own. Dick Little and Wood Hite. Bob was familiar with Wood Hite. why he was Frank and Jesse James' cousin. Everywhere they went, he rode along with them and made sure that everyone knew he was the Jame's cousin.

"Bob!" 

"Bob!" 

Bob flipped from his bed, the apple core rolled from his fingers and he sucked in a harsh breath. He had landed on his gun belt. Bob had been given his Grandfather's dusty old colt gun, and walked around with it as if it was some glorious prize. Only shooting it once and that once, made Bob believe that the gun would fizzle and crumble from how old it was. 

"Bob!" It was Charlie hanging by the door, slumped in the doorway. He looked dirty, and smelled worse than sin. "You got cotton in ya ears, c'mon down here." 

"Why?" Bob asked as he tucked his book under his pillow. 

Charlie rolled his eyes and grunted. "You wanna be a part of this don't ya?"

Train robberies are a thing of the past. The 1800s had endured a good amount of it and received a lot of criticism. These new ages, however, were the eras of banking. the era of credit, often known as "The Roaring Twenties" by the government. Bob was unsure of their meaning. Only twenty years old, he had never left Missouri and had never had the opportunity to do so.

Bob slouched down the stairs as he pondered Charlie's point. Bob had over the years heard Wood Hite mention that they had joined the Jesse James gang. But they never offered much evidence. Additionally, it was never published in any books. So Bob didn't have faith in them.

Dick Little, Ed, Wood, and Charlie could all be heard laughing. He senses the aromas of maize whiskey, moonshine, and cigars. Bob was unsure of the purpose of the call. As he took the final step, he noticed Frank James' outline. Wow! Frank James was in his kitchen at the time. His hands were looped on his pistol belt, and a pipe hung from his lips as he faced everyone with his back. Bob swallowed as his tongue began to cling to the inside of his mouth.

When Bob refused to enter the kitchen, Charlie looked up and waved his hand. As Charlie drank from a little glass of moonshine, he appeared as though he had been dragged through the dirt. All Charlie did was that. He would drink, swear, and place wagers that would fail.

"It's little Ford! Bobby!" Dick teased as he slapped down his glass on the table. 

Frank turned to look at Bob, and sneered at him. Just from that stare, Bob felt his face flush and felt himself want to turn and run away. Frank appeared frail. His eyes were as lifeless as the pipe he smoked, and his face was adorned with creases and wrinkles. He extinguished the smoke before turning to Charlie and sneering at him as well.

"Him? You're bringing him along?" Frank asked. "No." He then continued. 

Charlie slung back his whiskey then motioned his head to Bob. He wanted Bob to plead his case. Bob wiped his sweaty palms on his thick trousers, and moved across the kitchen. 

"How do you do? I take it, that my brother Charlie brought you here." Bob paused then blew out a shaky sigh. "People figure me to be an idiot, for I speak... the way I introduce myself. But, I read every James story and I think I could be of help for this new age." 

There was a violent silence. Frank staggered his weight from right to left on his feet. He blew his pipe smoke in Bob's face then sneered. 

"You look as if you ain't robbed nare chick or child. Why would you want to come along? You're a runt."  Frank insulted him. 

Bob's cheeks flushed red. He heard the soft snicker of Wood Hite behind him. "I'm sorry your opinion of me is so little but if you give me a chance, I can be of use." 

"Use of what? Your brother wants you riding along as a sidekick? No." 

Bob was set to turn and flip their kitchen table. He wanted to beat the sense out of Charlie. Why had he brought Frank here? To embarrass him? He succeeded. Bob felt his chest heavy, his eyes were stuck to the chipped kitchen floor, and he turned felt his legs lift as he was set to go outside. He did. Weeks prior, the porch light had stopped working. The only sign that someone was inside the house was the moon. Bob was pleased that the porch had plenty of space. He stubbed his toe on the porch, grabbed the banister, and sighed hard. Frank wasn't his favorite, which makes sense. His favorite was Jesse. Bob was well knowledgeable about Jesse James. He was proud of that. He heard a match strike as he leaned over the balcony. This shocked him. He noticed the lingering shadow as he turned. He was there.

The slender build, the arch in the hip, and the pointed toe of the boots. His shadow came with its own lingering introduction. The sweet smell of lilac, pungent smell of cigars lingered in the air. The match came close to the cigar, and Bob almost gasped to pass out. It was Jesse James. 

Jesse shook off the match while stepping closer to Bob. The writings were correct. He wore a smile. He smiled at Bob as the smoke softly exhaled through his nostrils. His eyes were misty, dark blue pools; his skin looked soft, and his lips curled delicately around the cigar. 

Bob felt air get clogged in his lungs. "H--how do you do?"

"Evening," Jesse called blowing the smoke over his head. "Your Charlie's brother ain't ya?" 

Bob nodded feeling his knees wobble with fear and excitement. There was that smile again. Jesse wore it sweetly. The cigar smoke hit Bob's nose and he felt his eyes water softly. 

"Smoke?" Jesse offered pulling another cigar out his pocket. Bob had once tried smoking. He did it when he was fourteen. Bob made the promise to never smoke again when his father tracked him down and beat him into submission. Jesse James, though, was giving him a cigar. Of course he would accept it. Jesse ignited Bob's cigar with a second match. They had relocated to the porch's wooden rocking chairs. Every action Jesse made was studied by Bob's own blue eyes. His thighs were crossed, and his legs were long. His hair appeared damp, as if he had just come from the rain, and his hands were braced against the chair's wood. He had hollow cheeks and visible dimples when he smoked. Bob experienced a fast heartbeat.

"Frank musta been mean to ya?" 

Bob inhaled the smoke and felt like his lungs were going to bust. He didn't know Jesse had really spoke to him, until Jesse chuckled. "Frank can be a bastard. But... he does well." 

"I read all those train robberies." Bob blurted. 

Jesse smirked at him, cocked his head the side. "Have ya?" 

"Just now fore' everyone came I was on my bed. Mouth wide open, eyes wide, readin' all my stories I collected." Bob confessed. 

"Think they all true?" 

"Maybe not all, but..." 

Jesse rocked softly then closed his eyes. "They write of me as if I'm a mystery. Treat me like a hero."

"You is Jesse James." 

"And what's that mean Bob?" 

The way in which Jesse called him, made Bob felt a small tingle from the nape of his neck, down to his spine. Jesse slowed his rocking, blew out his smoke, then turned to Bob. His eyes were darker now, small frown lines cupped the corners of his lips; he almost looked soft in the moonlight. "You tell me what I am to you. If all you read is stories of me... then I can't live up to that." 

Bob was nervous. He didn't or couldn't gauge how he felt overall, but nervousness was all he could pinpoint. He coughed letting out a cloud of smoke. Jesse smiled then pointed to the cigar. 

"You don't have to keep smoking that if it's making you bungey." 

Bob tossed it, cheeks flaring with blush. He noticed Jesse staring at him, his eyes locked on Bob. Then he nodded before sitting back in the chair. He had smoked his cigar down, tossed it, then let out a small hum. Silence. 

Bob twiddled his thumbs not knowing what to say. Jesse rocked softly, then spoke. "You ever robbed something?" 

"Nothing big." 

Jesse sneered then lit another cigar. This time he let the match burn down to his finger tips. Bob had seen in the little flame, Jesse's other hand. It had never been written but his middle finger looked mangled; missing a numb. Bob licked his lips as they were dry and then cleared his throat. 

"Under my bed I got all these clippings..." He felt like a fool spewing this information. Jesse would think he was a stupid fool. 

But Jesse rocked and smoked. The screen door opened and it was Frank. He cut his eyes to Bob and Bob looked away. He hated Frank. After that meeting, he hated Frank. And here he was ruining his time with Jesse. 

"Shipping out in the morning. Ed stole a car, at dawn we leave." Frank ordered then turned to Bob, gripped the rocking chair hard; which was shocking that he looked weak. "You load up the car now, diggus." 

Bob's mouth fell open and that must have tickled Jesse cause he chuckled. Jesse tossed the cigar standing to his feet. The brothers ignored Bob and disappeared into the house. 

--------

To the stolen automobile, Bob had transported all the equipment. He stumbled, fell, and even got his pants dirty, but he succeeded. Ed and Charlie had messed up the kitchen while making stew. Despite the house's age, it has recently created advantages. lights, functional gas burners, and all those modern devices. Just a few hours remained till they went, and it was now midnight. The most of the group had left, but Bob was still in the living room working on some documents while sitting on the floor. He enjoyed reading. He heard approaching footsteps. Jesse observed Bob while standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips. Bob's tongue flicked along his lower lip and his throat was dry.

"Read a little to me." Jesse ordered, taking a seat on the dusty couch. 

Bob tilted his head up to Jesse, couldn't believe what he was hearing. Read to him? 

"Go on. Let me hear them stories." Jesse spoke softly, while relaxing against the couch. 

Bob scrambled with the papers, his eyes were losing focus, and he felt dizzy. Don't pass out. Is what he kept repeating to himself mentally. "I gotta find it... ah, uh... Jesse James, the youngest, has a face as smooth and innocent as a schoolgirl. The blue eyes, very clear and penetrating, are never at rest. His form is tall and graceful and capable of great endurance... and great effort." 

His voice was shaky, unclear, almost as if he didn't know how to read. He look towards Jesse, watching as the older man leaned forward a bit. He nodded on and off as Bob read. Bob licked his lips now with more moisture then stupidly giggled. Jesse waved his hand as if hearing enough. 

"I ain't never cared who come with me. Never have." Jesse spoke tilting his head back then kept a small gaze with Bob. "You just seem so eager to be with me. Why is that Bob?" 

Bob's head was foggy. His old fantasies, memories, eager excitement filling his body. The dream had always been to be with Jesse James. In front of the filthiest males in the room, Frank labeled him a runt and made him feel foolish. Jesse, though, at this moment, made Bob feel seen. Allowing him to read to him. Be with him, Jesse questioned, "Why?" Bob was aware that his enthusiasm for Jesse transcended his hero and kid complex. It wasn't obsession; it was chance and fate. Maybe it's love. Jesse was said to be in love with Zee James. Furthermore, Bob had no concept of a man and a woman falling in love. Bob was frequently made fun of by Charlie for his unusual feelings for Jesse. Bob didn't care right now. This seemed genuine to him. There was love.

"I just want to is all." 

Jesse didn't speak anymore. They sat in silence. As time went by, Bob saw that Jesse had softly closed his eyes, and maybe had fallen as asleep. Bob drew his eyes over Jesse's form. He made the couch look better; it didn't look ratty and old. Jesse's boots looked imported and expensive, his pinky had a gold band on it, and the watch he wore seemed to be of some sort of French design. Jesse was expensive, his scent was expensive; overall Jesse was luxury.

Dawn had arrived. They piled into the stolen wagon as Charlie threw Bob out the door, causing Wood to trip. The others would follow loosely behind while Jesse and Frank would travel in the car that had been stolen. Bob wished he could have gone on the ride with Jesse and Frank. Bob envisioned a day without Frank.

Charlie laughed as he pulled Bob's hair out of his head. Bob pushed him away while complaining. Why must Charlie continually find fault with him. Dick grinned before leaning in close to Bob. "Ever since you set eyes on Jesse, your tiny pecker hasn't budged. I had no idea you were a fruit."

Bob didn't speak. He just felt his cheeks grow warm with blush. The robbery was no train, no salon, or even a bank. Frank had conspired with Ed on this robbery; they were to take from the richest man in Missouri. Bob didn't know what his role would be, in fact, he was certain he'd put out on the side of road and have everyone laugh at him. It pained him to think of that; the thought of Jesse laughing at him. 

----------------

The heist was successful. Ed and Wood laughed gleefully. Dick and Charlie were speaking while sitting by the stove in an unboarded home. The living room was where Frank and Jesse were. Off the wall, their voices could be heard. Bob finished his apple and rubbed his fingers over his shirt before entering the living room. After pausing, Frank turned to face him. He snatched his hat, gave Jesse a tip, and then pushed Bob away forcefully.

Jesse made a fuss to himself before glancing at Bob. That smile reappeared. "Me and my brother hardly on speaking terms these days."

"I was gon' mention it." Bob shifted from foot to foot then smiled at Jesse.

Jesse didn't return the smile though, instead he stood from his chair and eyed Bob with almost an anger look. "You like that don't ya?" 

"Like what?" 

"That Frank and me is on the outs." 

What was happening? Bob shook his head frantically while he moved back from Jesse who continued to come closer toward him. Bob gasped when Jesse reached out and gripped his side. His hands were rough, strong, and almost pinched the life out of him. 

"Ow.. ouch." Bob whined with a moan. 

Jesse stopped, furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. "I guess your daddy used to beat you." 

Bob blushed with a nod. He rubbed his side for awhile then was set to leave, but Jesse motioned for him to sit down. They sat across from each other. He was trained to fix his sights on Jesse. Jesse was clean whereas everyone else appeared to be near death, disheveled, and shabby. He had a scent of talcum powder, lilac, and spices. He had a beard that complemented his face, soft eyes that gazed on the fire, and clean clothes. Bob felt himself scratching the back of his neck and dusting off his own freshly laundered clothing. When Jesse met his eyes again, he flushed. This time, he grinned at Bob before removing a cigar from his shirt pocket.

Charlie appeared chomping on a apple. "Jesse we wanted to see that new picture show." 

"Yeah?" Jesse asked tossing his match in the fire. "And how would you all get there to the show?" 

"We would walk, wouldn't risk of taking the car." Charlie laughed then winked at Bob. 

Bob had to hold back his sneer. He then looked at Jesse who was pondering the idea. He then wondered what he and Frank had been chatting about. Maybe, Frank was angry that everyone was happy. Any fool could understand that Frank was a miserable old man. 

"What do ya say Bob? Wanna see that picture show?" Jesse asked blowing the smoke over to him. 

Bob's eyes water, he nodded happily. "Sounds exciting!" 

Charlie snickered then finished his apple. "Course Bobby, there ain't know fruits in this one." 

Bob's ear rang, his face flushed, and all his excitement rushed out his body. He wanted to take one of the fire pokers and stab it through Charlie's chest because he felt little and hurt. Why did he act that way? Did he despise Bob? Charlie would be a wonderful big brother, in Bob's opinion, if he weren't so stupid. As Charlie continued to giggle at his assine joke, Bob felt Jesse's eyes on him. Jesse then gave a throat clearing. He extended his hand to help Bob up as he stood in front of him. Charlie returned to the room after them to let everyone know they were leaving. Bob took hold of Jesse's hand and felt Jesse's warm skin. His legs suddenly became weak, and he peered into his eyes. Jesse appeared puzzled and, in a way, dejected.

There were two viewings of the picture. Ed advised them to catch the one carrying small people. While the others watched from the middle, Jesse sat in the back. Bob didn't care about the program. Jesse's prolonged attention at the house remained in his mind. Charlie made fun of Bob, and Jesse was upset. Yet why? With his knee gently pressing against the elder man's, Bob sat next to Jesse. Jesse appeared uninterested in the show as well; his eyes were darting all about, taking everything in.

Then a shot was fired. A woman shouted after hearing two shots. Jesse cocked his colt after Jesse and Bob both dove to the ground.

As though wanting Bob to witness what was going on, Jesse pushed him out into the aisle. More yells, screams, and gunfire could be heard. Bob observed Wood fire his gun, followed by Dick and Ed. It was peculiar. Had someone anticipated the arrival of the gang? if only somebody had known what to do. Jesse discharged his colt with accurate aim. Bob observed the man who had tripped down the aisle being cut by the gunshot. his life was saved. Bob's life had been saved by Jesse James. He was certain that he would have received a headshot if not.

As everyone raced away from the show, more gunfire rang out. After being knocked to the ground, Bob felt something sharp touch his ankle. He was wounded.

"Charlie!" Bob cried out trying to limp away. 

He could feel it, he could feel a looming person behind him, he heard the cock back of the gun. Then a shot rang out. The dizzy feeling Bob had deepened, he felt darkness. He was certain he had been shot and killed. 

But he wasn't. He felt himself being hoisted up, tossed over a shoulder, then thrown his legs brushed against some shrubs. He was floating in and out of consciouness. He felt his eyes closing then a hard slap to his face, but he didn't know who did it. Things were moving quickly, moving fast and then Bob passed out. 

-------------------------

Bob moaned as he felt himself being thrown around. Bob complained as he felt his eyelids flutter open after struggling against the person, who then pulled him around.

"Hush. Hush now, stop." 

It was Jesse. Bob was able to crack one eye open, and then he saw Jesse in front of him. He had one hand on his shoulder on his blistering hot skin. Jesse had a glare of rage in his eyes that seemed to calm down once Bob was able to open both eyes. 

"That bullet nicked your ankle. You lost a lot of blood. But you're fine. You got a little scrapped up... I wiped your chest down with alchol." 

Jesse did all that for me? Bob's mouth hung open as his felt airy and light. He watched Jesse move to a chair in the darken room, his gun belt trapped around his waist and he huffed. Where was everyone? 

"...Where is everyone?" Bob croaked, his throat was dry.

"Told em' to pack the gathers up." Jesse responded, his voice was slack and his throat seemed dry too. 

Bob hobbled from the chair, his hands touching his flesh; he wasn't wearing a shirt. Jesse had touched him, wiped him down, saw him bare. Bob felt all the blood rush to his head causing him to feel dizzy. He spun softly to figure out where they were. Jesse had one hand on his head, muttering, fussing to himself then he stood placing a hand on his gun belt. 

Bob was pacing the darken room searching for his shirt when he felt the cold plate of the nickel on his back. He could feel the harsh warm breath of Jesse on his neck. Gulping, Bob automatically held up his hands. 

"Your brother ain't that smart, he's uglier than sin, and he can't think far as I can throw him. He knew. He knew what was gonna happen at the picture show, didn't he?" Jesse barked small droplets of salivia flicking Bob's earlobe.

The rifle barrel dug into his skin and seemed to get warmer somehow. Bob closed his eyes tightly because he was aware of Jesse's speed. He may have sent everyone away to kill Bob and had no witnesses, which would explain his jitteriness. Jesse shifted behind him as he inhaled a chilly breath.

"Tell me!" Jesse hollered. 

Bob saw stars as the echoing of his scream rang in the empty room. Bob groaned feeling Jesse grip the nape of his neck. His fingers were cold, smooth, and then his hand with the mangled finger gripped the base of his throat. He was choking Bob. 

"Speak!" Jesse barked out as he pushed across the room. He held the gun up and pointed it at Bob. 

The specs of moonlight castaded on Jesse's face. He had angry look, eyebrows furrowing, upper lip twisted in a snarl and he pointed the colt at the yong Ford. Bob didn't know. He never knew what went through Charlies head. Ever. 

"Jesse I don't know, I don't know I swear." 

"Liar! You was too excited to see that picture show. Got caught in their plan and got hit!" Jesse screamed and then fired off a shot into the ceiling. Bob covered his ears, sank down to the ground and then felt his eyes well with tears. He was telling the truth. If Charlie had planned this, he wouldn't go along with it. He would never do anything to make Jesse distrust him. 

The floor creaked and Bob saw the boots land in front of his face. He was prepared for Jesse to shoot him and think nothing of it. Instead, Jesse squatted down and shoved Bob. 

"Get up. It's alright Bob, get up." 

He was shaking all over. He felt the cold sweat dripping down his neck and back, his eyes were swelled and puffy. Bob saw Jesse's expression; dispair and remorse? Was Jesse upset that he had scared Bob?

Jesse sat in the chair, built a fire, and smoked two cigars. Bob found some food in the previous location. With it, he pointed to Jesse before being shooed away. He observed Jesse as he nibbled the stale bread. His hands were on his lap, and he was breathing softly with his head tilted. Bob didn't feel any sorrow, hatred, or wrath. He was aware that Jesse had trouble trusting other people. Everyone desired to be Jesse, be the leader, or to have a point to make. Bob didn't want any of that. That was not what he wanted. He merely desired to be near Jesse.

"Frank left in a hurry. He and Ed have become close... cut me out their plans." Jesse talked. 

Bob stepped toward Jesse sat down by his chair, and listened to him. Jesse rubbed his thumb over his eyebrow and chuckled. "He calls me temptermental, says I fly off the handle. Everywhere I go... chaos comes." 

Bob licked his bottom lip listening intently. Jesse fixed his eyes on Bob, moved his lips and then eyed Bob with more intent. "Charlie called you a fruit." 

A heat wave of blush poked it's way over Bob's face and looked at the fire. 

"Is ya Bob?" 

Bob clasped his hands over his lap and then moved closer to Jesse. Cautiously, he moved between Jesse's legs and sat. Pulled his knees up to his chest, closed his eyes and then felt Jesse place his hand on the back on his head. Jesse ruffled his hair, tugging it gently, then wrapped a his softly around Bob's throat. His mangled finger stroked his adams apple, and the sensation was calming. 

"It's alright Bob." Jesse mumurred as his strokes stopped.

When the fire had been put out was unclear to Bob. He couldn't recall how he and Jesse had constructed their floor-based palets. However, Bob does recall approaching Jesse and feeling his warm body. He resisted putting his head on his shoulder, but he eventually did. Jesse had trouble falling asleep, and Bob sensed Jesse's safe arm around his waist. They fell asleep, and when Jesse started to fuss, Bob heard it and thought he had been awakened. Jesse mentioned that he wanted to ask around, about the attack at the show. They then were silent. Bob listened to Jesse's breathing as he rested his head on his arms.

 

 

 

Chapter 2: Two.

Summary:

Feedback is welcomed.

Since he first heard the roosters crowing at the crack of dawn, Bob had remained awake. His throat had minor bruises from Jesse's strangling grasp on him, and his ankle was hurting. But overall? He had never felt better. Who have thought, he'd be here with the Jesse James? He heard a passing woman muttering as he sloshed cold water from the water pump across his face. She was cursing those who didn't believe in the Lord while muttering to herself. Bob ignored her until looking up as he noticed Jesse moving closer to the outside. He was dressed in his black pants, white button-down shirt, and gun belt. He appeared determined this morning when the slight breeze brushed his hair.

"Your brother, Dick, and Ed, must have gone to Kentucky. I betchu they've gotta bounty on my head." Jesse spoke, as he pushed Bob out the way so he could get to the water pump. 

Bob stayed silent. He wouldn't know and he didn't know. Why would Charlie go along with catching Jesse, when just like Bob; he wanted to be apart of the gang? Last night seemed like a blur, but it did in fact happen. Jesse turned to Bob once he had done washing his face. His lower lip got wet, and he grinned. "You're just glad to be with me, aren't you?" 

"Yes." Bob muttered lowering his head. Jesse had no idea how happy he was, to be with him. 

Jesse looked across the empty road, searching for a car, then he turned his attention to Bob. "Is ya a fruit Bob?" 

Bob has always known that he is not interested in girls or ladies. Bob didn't find it appealing to hang out with whores, gypsies, or foreign women the way Charlie did. Maybe because his head was always filled with 'Jesse James this, Jesse James that.' When Bob was seventeen, he had a friend named Tom Turpin; and they liked each other. Since all they ever did was stare at each other's naked bodies, Bob was aware that Tom was interested in sodomy. And Bob never again saw a man in his underwear after that. But he knew that he liked it. A month later, Tom was hanged for the murder of a pregnant woman and her husband.

With his silence, Jesse spoke again. "There was a couple of fruits I met when I came face to face with the Quantrell boys. There was one bastard during the war, that I liked and he liked me. We would stay up and get each other off, just to keep our sanity." 

Was that supposed to comfort Bob? It didn't. Jesse was married to Zee, so what of Bob loved or had the sexual attraction to the man? Jesse would probably shoot him dead, if Bob even tried to sneak a peak at Jesse in the nude. The small talk was cut short when Jesse started making plans for them go to Kentucky. To find out what transpired the previous night, he wanted to see the group. Not that Jesse hadn't already made the connection. As they prepared to leave, Jesse used his legal identity of Tom to purchase train tickets. He and Bob boarded the train, side by side; the train seats were small carts. As the train continued, Bob yawned, scratched his throat, and then turned to observe the passing scenery.

[][][][][][][][]

"Well I'll be, it's the kid! He's with Jesse!" Charlie yelled as he tossed his cigarette from his mouth and crossed over the yard. 

He walked as if he was drunk, which he probably was. When came closer, Bob could smell the whiskey on his breath, and he sneered. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jesse sizing up the acreage of the yard. In the back part of the house was a broken down car, with busted windows and flat tires. Bob figured Ed and Dick had damaged the car. 

"Where'd you all run off after that picture show?" Jesse laughed fakily as he shook Charlie's hand. 

Bob was aware that Charlie was a terrible liar. He was his brother of course. Bob saw Jesse adjust the gun on his waist as Charlie, shrugged, laughed, and wiped the saliva from his mouth. Bob did the same and felt for his dusty old colt gun. Wood Hite stood on the porch and whistled for all of them to come inside. It was. Bob found himself taking direct steps behind Jesse, and watched the muscle in his back flex as they stepped into the home. Dick, was seated at the table with the paper in his hands. When spotted Jesse, his eyes grew wide and stood up swiftly. Knowing that Jesse had intimidated everyone, Bob suppressed his smirk.

"Jesse you still keeping little Ford around?" Dick teased, as he stood by Bob and ruffled his hair. 

Bob shrugged him off, "I didn't run away." He was getting better at speaking up with Jesse. 

Jesse didn't speak instead he motioned to the stairs for the upper level of the house. "Is Ed here?" 

"Jesse if you thinkin' we knew about last night, we didn't." Charlie urged. 

Once more Jesse didn't speak instead he bypassed everyone and traveled upstairs. There was little conversation among everyone else. Until Wood sized Bob up. 

"Don't go misremembering that Jesse's my cousin. So whatever your fruit mind is thinking, he don't trust no one." 

"At least I didn't run off," Bob barked back eyeing Wood with his own animosity. 

Dick cackled before tilting his head to the side. "Little Ford just wants to see Jesse's pecker huh?" He never missed a beat to call and make fun of Bob, did he? 

Bob disregarded him and kept an eye out for activity upstairs. Bob would assume that Ed wouldn't live very long if he were upstairs. Jesse had a strategy for each man in the home without necessarily expressing every notion that crossed his mind. Bob just prayed he wouldn't die. Since the beginning, he had remained Jesse's ally. Charlie grabbed the paper, paying attention to Bob's perplexed expression.

"That bullet on nicked your flesh Bunny, and you walk with a limp." Wood chuckled as he slid into a chair.

Three shots were fired from the second floor. The wrecked house trembled as a result. Wood, Dick, and Charlie all took a grasp of their weapons. Then one last shot was fired. Jesse made his way down the stairs. His face was lit up with a smile. Eyes fixated on Dick and Wood, fingers lopped in his gun belt.

"You do have the bounty, right?" Jesse enquired while maintaining a constant grin.

Charlie had a defeated expression, and Bob was dumbfounded by it. Bob was correct, Charlie was unaware that there was a bounty on Jesse's head. All along, it was just Wood and Dick? Frank was missing. Was he cunning enough to run and avoid Jesse's fury? Jesse took a seat at the table, motioned for a cup of coffee and Wood scurried to get it. Charlie sat too, while Dick stayed pressed in the corner. 

"Jess... did you kill Ed Miller?" Charlie meekly asked. 

Bob found that to be a dumb question. He sat next to Jesse, matched his position, and watched Wood slide the coffee cup to Jesse. 

"See Ed just couldn't keep a straight lie, I don't like liars." Said Jesse. 

Bob felt a tingle in his throat and bile fill it too. He felt something was going to happen. Jesse continued as his pointer finger rimmed the cup in front of him. "Now ya see Dick and Wood, I would expect more for you two. Tell me... has the Governor offered you a lot?" 

"Offered what Jess?" Dick sweated as he asked. 

He was giving himself away. Bob watched on, as the bile coated his throat. 

"Don't make a fool outta me fellas. So tell me what's the reward?" 

"Jesse we don't—" 

Neither Wood nor Dick completed any existing sentences. Bob failed to anticipate it. He missed seeing Jesse pick up his pistol, the gunshots, and the bodies of Wood and Dick sliding limp on the ground before he realized they were dead. Jesse had fired three bullets into Wood's chest and two into Dick's head. They were dead as they fell to the earth limply, their mouths twisted open in mute screams. While Bob observed Jesse's gun continue to emit smoke, Charlie had ducked to the ground. Charlie, who was curled up with his hands over his head, caught Jesse's attention. Jesse was now positioned above Charlie and was aiming the gun directly at Charlie's eyes.

"I'll shoot both your eyes out your skull." Jesse threatened him. "On the good faith of your brother, he believes you were clueless to these two kahoots." 

"J--J--Jesse I swear I didn't know. They didn't tell me anything." 

Jesse placed his hand by his side, still cocking the nickle plate of his colt. "Clean this up, burn the house Charlie." He paused then turned to Bob sneering. "Gather what we can take, we heading back to Missouri." 

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The Missouri train trip was silent. Charlie sat in a single cart while Bob and Jesse shared one. Bob hesitated to speak, although he knew he had done nothing wrong. Jesse patted his thigh while leaning forward and rubbing Bob's cheek with his beard. Bob grinned as he felt his cheeks flush a deep red color in response to his murmured words. Jesse may have merely been flirting a little with Bob to torment him, but Bob didn't care because he liked Jesse.

"We'll stay at the house down the road and in the morning we'll look for Frank," Jesse said as they headed up the hill to his house. 

Upon the house coming into view, Bob could hear children, singing in the distance. Behind him, Charlie was licking and rolling a cigarette. Bob casted a look over his shoulder and spoke. "You're lucky to be alive." 

Jesse had walked further and caught up with a little boy and girl who ran to him. Must be his children. Charlie strode by Bob, puffing away and spoke. "I have idea where Frank is, I didn't know bout no bounty." 

"As I said, you sure is lucky to be alive." Bob replied reaching the level of the house. 

A petite woman stood on the porch, apron wrapped around her waist, and flour on her cheek. "Are you the Ford brothers?" 

"Yes ma'am." Bob answered. His attention went directly to Jesse who was running behind the kids. 

Then as the children grew tired and ran to their mother, he stepped to Charlie to Bob. "Carry my gear to the house down the street. I don't want anything happening to my family." 

Bob took fast direction, while Charlie tried striking up conversation with Jesse. He was ignored and soon was following behind Bob, carrying gear down the road.

As the day wore on and into the evening, all the equipment was set up correctly. Bob sat in front of the fire while Charlie went out back to cut wood. He guessed and wondered what Jesse really thought of him as he peered into the flames. Did Jesse object to Bob's unconventional preference for men? Or was Jesse only being kind to him until the time came to shoot him? When Jesse entered, he heard the floorboards creak. He could smell his cigars' sour, sweet aroma. Jesse likewise sat by the fire. He smoked a cigar, tapped Bob on the shoulder, and established eye contact with both of them.

"You're going to break some hearts, for sure."

"How do you mean?" Bob asked lowly. "I ain't sure what women like," 

"I ain't speaking of girls." Jesse spoke clearly. "You give me the feeling you want more from me Bob. Just don't know what." 

There was nothing else to be said. Jesse tossed the butt of his cigar into the fire, stood up just in time when Charlie came in with the extra logs for the fire. Bob felt his heart thump quickly, his ears ringing with a certain clouded dissonance. What did he want from Jesse? He wanted him. 

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Jesse appeared to be in excellent health. tactful and astute. Rooms felt warmer, and it appeared that he had perfect control over the weather. Jesse was ill, though. Bob was aware of this. Jesse sat in the washtub with boiling water as night fell. He bathed while intermittently coughing and soaking his hurting bones. A surge of expressive energy suddenly swept through Bob's chest. How to demonstrate to Jesse what he expected of him. If he expressed how he desired Jesse, would he be shot? Would he be ousted?

He observed Jesse inhale deeply as he stood in the doorway. Two lashes ran across his back, and he sighed when he saw Bob standing in the doorway.

"Go away." Jesse ordered to Bob as he cleared his throat. 

"I was just checkin' on you is all..." Bob spoke softly as fully entered the room. 

Jesse grabbed a towel off the chair, wiped his face, then chuckled. "You're as hot as a virgin in a whore house, aren't ya?" 

"I--I... Jesse I know what I want." 

"And you think I'm willing to give it to you?" Jesse asked as he stood from the basin. 

His bare physique was sleek and strong, and Bob's eyes grew larger. His hips had minor bruises that ran down the inside of his thighs, and his buttocks had small lashes on them. Bob's chest grew heavy, his trousers tightened, and his gaze became fixated on Jesse's exposed skin. He turned to Bob with a mocking sneer after wrapping the damp towel around his waist.

"You ever been with a man Bob?" Jesse asked. 

"No... well... no." Bob answered as his fingers twiddled with the buttons to his vest and shirt. 

Jesse walked closer to Bob, his eyes were sodden and red, lips moist, and then backed Bob into the corner of the doorway. Bob's mouth twitched, lungs filled with a heated exhaustion from having Jesse slow close. They stared at each other; willingness in each set of blue eyes. Jesse reached out with his mangled hand, tracing Bob's cheek with his thumb, then over to his lips. "You never answered me." 

"...What?" Bob choked out. 

"You think I'm willing to give you what you want?" Jesse paused crushing Bob's body into the sharp part of the door, an 'ouch' left Bob's mouth. "The way you follow me, look at me, I know what you want." 

A confident gleam of one time endurance came through Bob's mouth. "Then if you know, then you're willing." 

Jesse and Bob had an abrupt, dry kiss. Bob was startled, but also appreciative and showing signs of hunger and eagerness for more. Jesse ignored Bob and continued on toward the hallway's darkness, presumably toward his room. Bob was in a state of shock, his eyes were starting to get wet with joy and excitement. Jesse had given him a kiss.

Jesse and Bob shared a bedroom that night. Across from one another, two separate beds. Bob observed Jesse tossing and turning while holding his pistol securely. The pillow coverings and bed's linens both reeked of talcum powder and mothballs. After Jesse's kiss, Bob's erection remained, his lips were still tingling, and his heart seemed to be beating erratically.

Bob got out of bed and carefully and silently moved over to Jesse's bed. Softly closing his eyelids, Jesse's eyes opened when Bob approached him. After a moment of stillness, Jesse loosened his blanket and offered Bob to sleep on his bed.

They shared another kiss. Bob engaged in instintic this time. As his lips slid down to Jesse's neck, he tasted like cigars and the lillac from the earlier soak in the tub. Jesse rumbled in his throat while patting Bob's hair with one palm on the back of his head. Jesse then halted them with another kiss. He grinned, and Bob joined him, as his cheeks began to flush as his hand ran down Bob's back and stopped on his buttocks.

"In time Bob... in time." Jesse mused before pulling Bob close, and they both seemed to drift into a peaceful sleep. 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3: Three

Summary:

Enjoy <3

Bob looked at Jesse from the other side of the room. Bob appeared to be making up ground in every way. Dick, Wood, and Ed were all gone. Before Bob could take a deep breath, they were all shot and dead in the space of a single instant. Charlie, who always appeared to be on edge, never left Bob's side. This infuriated Bob since he desired privacy with Jesse. The man Bob had adored, loved, and dreamed about kissed him last night. What ultimately did Jesse mean? When is it time? Days appeared to be blurring into one another. Bob wasn't even aware of how soon they had arrived at Martha's home.

Bob had never been particularly loved by Martha, but she undoubtedly inspired questions. Bob's comments were succinct since he didn't want to bother her. He watched Jesse looking out into the field while seated in the kitchen with his elbows propped up on the table. What was he contemplating? Bob pondered the stress or ideas that were going through the man's head. Hesitant about Frank, perhaps? Concerned about being caught? Or perhaps Jesse frequently considered Bob? Bob's heart began to beat swiftly at that. He wouldn't know if Jesse did think of him.

"Suppose Frank's, heard from Jim Cummings?" Jesse finally spoke up, casting a look over his shoulder at Bob. 

This dusk, Jesse's eyes were a rich misty blue. His mouth, as well as the corners of his eyes, had deep frown lines. Bob still felt Jesse was attractive, though. Jesse fully turned to face Bob as the amputated finger brushed the final vest button. They said nothing when Jesse sat down in front of him. Bob stood up from where he was seated and licked his lower lip. His eyes avoided Jesse's eyes and followed the neat track of polish on the table.

"...Were Frank and Jim on good terms?" Bob asked. 

Jesse, scoffed while retrieving a cigar from his vest pocket. "What's on your mind Bob? I know it ain't bout' Frank or Jim Cummings." 

"How do you mean?" 

After lighting his cigar and taking three puffs, Jesse sucked on his lower lip. Was he torturing Bob for an excessive amount of time? There was never a shortage of Jesse-related information in Bob's head. How about now? Bob doesn't give a damn about Frank. He wished Frank and Jesse would never again speak after the humiliation Frank had caused him. Charlie entered the room through the door before Bob could respond to the challenging question.

He grinned as he turned to face Bob, then repeated the action with Jesse. Jesse put his hand on his gun belt after blowing out the smoke. No smile appeared when he eyed Charlie. In fact, Bob watched the angry expression pass through Jesse's eyes. The way his bottom lip pouted in a frown and his stare became icy. Bob, picked at the chipping paint on the table then cleared his throat. 

"Jess... if you're thinkin' of takin' on some saving banks, I know a couple of guys who won't ever miss theirs." Charlie blabbed loudly. 

Jesse squinted his eyes narrowing them at Charlie. He was unmoved and unphased by Charlie's kiss-assing plea of bringing more people into the James gang. Then again, what gang? Bob stifled his laughter at the dumb expression that laced Charlie's face. He then stood from his seat. Jesse's eyes lightened, then he smirked. 

"Where you off to, young snowpipe?" Jesse asked. 

"I have to use the privy." Was all Bob said as he made his exit from the room. 

Bob was being honest when he said he needed to use the loo. And if Dick and Wood were still around, they would just make fun of him for it. There was no mistaking Bob's attraction to everything Jesse did. Radically, Bob occasionally envisioned leaping Jesse and giving his smooth, attractive face more than gentle kisses. Bob waited, nevertheless, for fear of getting shot to death.

Bob felt his wool pleated pants tighten in the crotch area as he entered the privy. He took a slouched position over the sink and exhaled sharply. His eyes were shut tightly when heard the door open. Assuming it was Charlie, he became angry. 

"Charlie I'm in here!" 

"It ain't Charlie." 

"Jesse! What you doin' in here?" Bob asked with panic lacing his voice. 

Jesse was illuminated by a stray flash of light that entered through the outhouse door. Bob licked his lower lip as he felt the dryness of his throat. Jesse grinned at him while leaning against the doorframe.

"Now.." With a small pause Jesse removed his hat from his head. "You ain't happy to be round' me Bob?" 

"Jesse it's not that, I'm using the privy is all." Bob felt his heart speed race as he got through that sentence. 

Jesse nodded squinting his eyes at the young man. "Mhmm." His steps moved closer into the privy, a playful smirk on his lips. 

Bob, raised a hand to the back of his head and nervously scratched it. Bob felt jittery and eager in anticipation of what Jesse would do because his once-strong deamour had diminished and his attraction to him had grown too strong. Had Bob taken a breath? Possibly not, since Bob felt his chest relax as he exhaled. Jesse seemed to be taking pleasure in Bob's exterior falling apart.

With one quick motion, Jesse pulled Bob by his waist and bridged the gap between them. In close proximity, breathing the same moist air. Bob took a moment to break the unexpectedly tight grasp Jesse had on him. The slight creases around Jesse's eyes seemed to vanish when Bob raised his hand and caressed the corner of his brow. His eyes were clear, and frown lines adorned the corners of his lips.

"How you feelin' now Bob?" Jesse mumbled as bent his knees, so he could be more face to face with Bob. 

With no chance to speak up, Jesse grazed his lips across Bob's. Bob closed his eyes as his heart rate accelerated. Was this actually happening? Bob kissed Jesse James, but was it real? Or perhaps Charlie would laugh in his face as he awoke from a lovely dream. When Bob felt Jesse tighten his waist, it was genuine. When Jesse tightened the hold after it initially tickled Bob, he gasped for oxygen. What was going on? Although the suffering was excruciating, Bob wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

"If your brother knows bout' this bounty..." Jesse paused, once more grazing his lips on Bob's then traveled them to young mans cheek. "I will kill you both." 

With a hard shove Bob went flying back into the sink of the privy. A whirlwind of emotion went through Bob. His lips tingled, his waist ached, and his head felt fuzzy. Kill him? Jesse would kill him? Over Charlie? And these thoughts brought tears to Bob's eyes. Was it self-centered of Bob to harbor any animosity toward his own brother? a vicious dislike of Charlie getting in the way of him getting Jesse to himself?

"Jesse.." Bob croaked as watched the older man place, his hat on his head. "Jesse." 

Jesse ignored him turning on his heels and went back to the house. 

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Bob found Charlie in the barn peddling away at an old gun, a flattened cigarette in his mouth. 

"Why do you have that?" Bob asked infuriated at the sight of the gun. 

Charlie snapped his eyes up and chuckled, "If we takin' on a savings bank I need a weapon."

"Get rid of that. There's no savings bank, Charlie." 

"Jesse is gonna want to get something." Charlie spoke with defiance. 

Bob leaned forward smacking the pistol out his older brother's hand. Anger rested in Bob's heart, his eyes, and his head. What would Jesse say if he saw it? Possibly nothing. Nothing would be said, there would just be shots rung out and dead bodies for Jesse to burn. 

"What's your problem? Huh. You act as if Jesse knows you so well. You're stupid fixation with him is odd, Bobby." Charlie had a cunning and comedic tone to his voice. 

"And you're too stupid to know what kind of man Jesse is." Bob stood above Charlie, one hand in his pocket and then continued. "You will get us killed. You best come clean if you know about the bounty." 

"I ain't know bout' no bounty Bob. I swear." 

For some time, they sat in quiet as Bob questioned Charlie about his knowledge of the bounty. Before getting up, Charlie spat on the ground. He turned and shot Bob a menacing glance. "Why do you like Jesse so much?" 

Bob ignored him and slanted his body against the hay that laid piled, behind him. Charlie smirked before getting eye level to Bob this time. "He's only known for you a short while Bobby. And you think, he's gonna make a man outta ya, huh?"

"Go away." Bob muttered as fanned off his brother. 

Charlie left his laughter echoing as he exited the barn. Bob poundered Charlie's words... Would Jesse ever give him the amount of affection that Bob wanted? 

Later that night as everyone turned in, Bob lay awake in his bed across from Jesse wondering what the older man was thinking. Bob had heard talks from Wood that Jesse was moving into "middle age." Yet, Jesse still had the smoothest face, beautiful ocean eyes, and a smile that could charm the sea. The bed across from his creaked as Bob was beginning to find himself drifting to sleep. 

His own bed moved, body weight dipped the mattress, and felt a warm hand travel up his shoulder blades. It was Jesse. He could feel Jesse's heartbeat pressing against his spine and the warmth of Jesse's breath touching the nape of his neck. Bob experienced an explosion of unadulterated joy as a result. But how long would Jesse be so kind? To Bob, Jesse's transformation into this twisted individual looked to be the result of a recurring cycle. That somehow pain had to established after a sentimental moment. 

"I was too rough with you..." Jesse cooed as he placed a securring arm around Bob's chest. 

Bob licked his lips feeling himself ease into Jesse's warm body. "...If I was you, I'd be the same way." 

"Which is what Bob?" 

"Jumpy." 

"I guess your pretty face makes me jumpy, Bob." Jesse confessed as placed his hand Bob's lower abdomen. 

Bob took a hushed breath. Jesse had never caressed him in such a sensual way before. Their positions changed, and Jesse quickly forced Bob to turn around and face him. Their blue eyes met in a tender stare as they huddled in the damp darkness of their room. Bob leaned in and gave Jesse a kiss while feeling his lips tremble. Then he started to probe, brushing his lips over Jesse's beard and discovering the tender areas in the older man's neck that made his throat growl.

They appeared to have spent an eternity admiring each other's looks. embracing, kissing, and biting. Flushed and over excited Bob placed a hand Jesse's vest hoping to unbutton it. The outlaw stopped the young one's hand and let out a chuckle. 

"That virgin mind is sure to cause you trouble, now." Jesse laughed as placed Bob's by his side. 

Bob frowned softly. Why had Jesse stopped him? 

"Don't you want to make me a man...Jesse?" Bob questioned feeling his heart rate calm softly. 

Jesse's eyes shut and he turned to lay flat on his back. His lips were pouted slightly, his one hand rested on the edge of his vest, toying with a button and he opened his mouth to speak. 

"You oughta be lookin' for someone younger, someone who can give you a better life, Bob." Jesse spoke clearly, as if contemplating something else in way. 

Bob tilted his head, moved over and placed a gently hand to Jesse's face. His pink traced the outline of the older mans face, following the curve of his nose. Jesse frowned before opening his eyes. 

"W.R. Stevens wrote of me as man with charm and sometimes... he's right." 

"What about the other times?" Bob asked, his voice breaking softly. 

Jesse cackled lowly giving his head a shake. "The other times I see myself in someone else's eyes. Mean faced, angry, you probably pity my poor wife." 

Bob didn't realize the words were coming so fast and he said, "Why'd you marry her?" 

Jesse sat up and angrily pushed Bob out the bed with a forceful grunt leaving his lips. "Watch your mouth." 

Bob fell to the ground, his mouth gurgling with pain. He felt bad for what he said, his waist burned even more, and his nose ached. However, he needed to know and wanted to know. He observed Jesse's long legs as they came into his line of sight while also hearing the bed move and the footsteps. Jesse knelt down and swiftly pulled Bob up by the hair.

"Ouch!" Bob yelled trying to kick free. 

"Hush, hush!" 

The kicking stopped, the yelling stopped and soon Jesse had wrapped Bob into a tight hug. The warm palm of his hand stroked Bob's bareback, caressing his shoulder blades. "I'm..sorry." He mumbled.

Bob's initial feelings of anguish, fury, and sorrow were all gone. He returned Jesse's hug. They remained there, embracing while kneeling on the floor in the moonlight.