Work Text:
You lift the small glass to your lips, taking a sip. The sweet tea and bourbon goes down smooth. This isn't a bad little place, for a not-so-bad little town like Tombstone.
You had arrived here about four days ago, hoping to get a job somewhere that wasn't where you were from. You had grown up in a sleepy southern town, and this free soil, opium-ridden silver mine was exactly the place you wanted to be. Since arriving, you had gotten set up in a small cottage with the money you brought from home, and had been working non-stop to try and find employment. Tonight was your night off from hard work; it was time to have fun.
You take another sip of your drink, and set the empty glass down. To your right, a man with impeccable facial hair sits, stroking his silver beard thoughtfully. He's dressed head to toe in grey, and his hair has some blonde left in it. He must be in his fifties, but he's attractive, no doubt.
King Schultz had made it to Tombstone that morning, after parting ways with Django and Hildi. They were headed North, and King intended to continue his bounty hunting business here in the West, where outlaws and cowboys would make him a fortune. He had to be relatively careful, though-- after getting shot by Candie's man Butch half a year ago, he was lucky to be alive.
He gets up, making his way over, but just as he is going to introduce himself to you, another man who you hadn't noticed approaching from the left strikes up a conversation. King looks over to see a sickly, albeit confident looking man, younger, with pale skin and brown eyes. He had a small moustache and was nursing a cup of some hard liquor.
Upon realizing they had both started to talk to you at the same time, the younger man smirks a little. "My apologies. You first."
"Oh no no no, my good man, you started before I did," King nods to him politely.
"I insist," the other man opens his arms.
"The last time somebody insisted something my way, it didn't end well for me, so please, I invite you to speak first," King returns.
"Is one of you gonna make a move, or do I have to do all the work?" you cut in with a playful smile, and the two men seem to remember their purpose, eyes falling to the pretty woman between them.
"Well," the man to your left smiles at King, "It appears we are at a quandary, sir."
"It would certainly seem so," King nods, pursing his lips.
"What d'you think, darlin'?" the man to your left teases, "You pick who goes first."
"I couldn't possibly," you tease back, "I might choose wrong."
The man huffs a laugh. "You're a pistol." He looks up. "Why don't you, uh... do the honors, friend. I'll use the extra minute and a half to make myself presentable." He brushes his loose hair back with a wink.
"Very well then," King smiles at you with an expression that could melt you any day, "I am Doctor King Schultz, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. And who might you be?"
"(y/n) (y/l/n)," you smile at the charming older man, "When did you get into town?"
"I just got here this morning."
"What kind of accent is that?" you ask, playing with one of his buttons.
"German," he says, leaning against the bar, "I'm from Dusseldorf, Fraulein."
"German," you grin, "What are you doing all the way out here?"
"I'm a bounty hunter," he says softly, and your interest is immediately peaked. "I'm here under the guise of being a dentist, but I'm here for a man by the name of Johnny Ringo."
The man to your left snorts. "Ain't that a daisy."
"Pardon me, sir?" King frowns, "You... know this man?"
"I know him," the man gives a toothy grin.
"And do you have a problem with me killing him and transporting his corpse back for cash?"
The man grits his teeth, taking a shot. "The only problem I have with it is I couldn't do it first... for free." He gestures. "But please-- snatch your meal ticket before somebody else does. Johnny Ringo has a reputation for antagonizing armed compatriots of mine in this town, and his expiry date may very well be near."
"I hope you can take a night off," you interject, and King smirks.
"That's why I am here, Fraulein."
"Before you two get too cozy, allow me to make my introductions," the younger man clears his throat, "I am John Holliday, but you can call me Doc, darlin'."
"Doc Holliday?" King raises his eyebrows, "I suppose we are fellow dentists, then. Or were."
"I recall hearing something about a Schultz and a black fellow whose name escapes me crusading through my old hometown," Doc nodded, and King waited tersely for a follow up.
"...I am not going to apologize for myself and Django saving hundreds of slaves, Mr. Holliday."
Doc lifts his glass in tribute. "Nor do I intend to make you, sir." King nods, and shakes his head.
"A far cry from my old profession, this is."
"Dentistry has its merits," Doc grins, taking another shot, "Gun slinging does too."
"I'll drink to that," King pats the bar. "Bartender!" He turns to you. "What would you like, my dear?"
"Another sweet tea would be lovely, doctor," you smile, enjoying watching the two discuss their lives.
"Goodness, we are being extremely rude," King straightens up, "My dear, would you like a seat?"
"I'm fine at the bar," you reply, "Faster drinks that way."
"Hear, hear," Doc wobbles a little.
"Besides, you two are fascinating," you say, and King looks down.
"Yes, well... I didn't come here to talk about me. I came here to forget all that for the night. May I ask where you're from?"
"Virginia," you say.
"Virginia," King repeats incredulously, "You have ridden an extremely long way, my dear, whatever did you come here for?"
You shrug. "Work." Another smirk develops as you look King up and down. "Exciting men."
"Hate to disappoint darlin'," Doc cuts in, "but the only exciting part of me is my nightly performance of coughing blood into my liquor, which I appear to be glaringly overdue for."
"He's selling himself short, he's the fastest draw in town," the barkeep adds, walking by, and Doc knocks on the bar.
"I appreciate that, Frank, I shall remember your payment for that tomorrow."
You laugh. "Well. It would appear I attract a similar type of man."
"What's that?" King asks.
"Sweet talking gunslingers." You clink your glasses with the two men, and Doc turns to you.
"Since we're all friends here, I suggest we get a table." You finally give in, and follow the two men back to a corner table with a bottle of bourbon. Pouring another round, you settle in. "So. Virginia, hm?" Doc asks, striking a match to his cigarette. "I'm a Georgia boy myself."
"We're practically neighbours," you smile, snuggling closer to him.
"Tell that to the Carolinas," Doc teases, eyes flickering down to your lips, "They can get awful jealous..." You two lean in. King puts his hand over yours, and squeezes.
"Pardon me, but I couldn't help but realize your corset isn't fully tied in the back, my sweet (y/n). Would you like my assistance?"
You grin. "If you would be so kind."
King reaches to your back, and brushes your hair aside, carefully lacing you up properly with his fingers brushing your skin. You gasp a little, and his hands fall down to your skirts. Just as you're sure he's going to touch you right where you need him, he takes his hands away.
"There. All done."
"Much obliged," you say, a little lightheaded as King runs his hand up your back, and Doc suddenly turns your head back to his.
"Cigarette?"
"I think I'll share yours," you give a wicked smile, and take it out of his mouth, putting it between your lips. King watches you two with a quiet intensity, how you're arching your back and practically climbing into Doc's lap. He thinks about how much he wants you... He doesn't lose well.
"How's about you come and take a seat right here," Doc smiles hazily, patting his lap. You can already see his bulge from all your touching. Then--
"Excuse me. I will be right back," King says, getting up. He then finishes his drink, and goes over to speak to a few others around the saloon.
"While the good Dr. Schultz is busy, darlin'," Doc whispers in your ear, breath sending shivers through you, "I suggest we put our time to good use." He then tilts your head up, and kisses you. Within seconds, your tongues meet in the middle, and you're climbing into his lap, grinding and making out.
Over by the poker table, a man with a bushy brown mustache by the name of Wyatt Earp chuckles. "Look at ol' Doc over there. Never a dull night with him."
"He sure knows how to pick 'em," Morgan comments, squinting at you. Virgil just shakes his head.
"Good evening, gentlemen," a voice with an accent says, and they all turn. "I am Dr. King Schultz. I was hoping you could help me with something."
The Earps all introduce themselves, then Virgil nods. "What can we do you for?"
"I am looking for a man who goes by Ringo."
The poker table gets quiet, and Wyatt takes a careful look around. "Why do you wanna know, friend?"
"I am looking to collect his bounty," King replies with a casual smile, and Morgan laughs.
"Tonight?!"
"Tonight would be an opportune time, yeah," King nods.
Wyatt blinks. "Well, uh... only one man I know who can take down Ringo in a gunfight."
"And who would that be?" King asks.
"He's a little preoccupied at the moment," Wyatt responds with a snicker, and all four men turn to see Doc with his hand up your skirt.
"The great Doc Holliday," King nods, stirring a little more at the sight of you getting touched like that, "We've met. I assure you gentlemen, I may not be as fast as he is. But I most certainly intend to collect the 10,000 dollar bounty on Ringo's head."
"It's about that woman, ain't it?" Virgil smiles.
"Ah. It would seem I am not as subtle as I believed," King blushes slightly.
Virgil laughs. "Now friend, if you can put the nails in Ringo's coffin, you'll have her in the palm of your hand, make no mistake."
King turns, and sees a man standing right behind him.
"Keep hearin' my name, old timer. I guess I'm a popular topic of conversation on this side of the room."
King tilts his chin up. "Hm. Johnny Ringo, I presume."
"Who wants to know?" Johnny replies slowly.
"I do. I'm Doctor King Schultz."
"Doctor, huh?" Johnny takes out his gun, and the whole saloon goes silent. You look away from Doc, who's stroking your thigh, and get off of him curiously, excitement filling you. King's taking on Ringo, and the way he's standing up to him is turning you on beyond belief. Ringo takes a step into King's personal space. "We got too many damn mouthy doctors in this town."
King doesn't back down. "I do not intend on leaving tonight, if that is what you're suggesting. I have unfinished business."
"You mean that whore the lunger's got his hands all over?" Ringo sneered, "Maybe I'll take her for a ride myself once I put a bullet or two through you. Lunger'll be too busy hacking his guts out to stop me from fuckin' her good."
You glare at Ringo, wishing you had a gun of your own to take care of him with. Doc grips your arm, holding you back from the scene.
"Scheiß drauf. Dieser schweinehund stirbt heute nacht," King mutters to himself. (Fuck it. This pig dog dies tonight.)
"Dir erste, alter timer," (you first, old timer) Ringo drawls, and King's eyes widen a little at Ringo's ability to speak German before he clenches his jaw. He shakes his sleeve, and a bang goes off. Through the smoke, everyone sees Ringo stumble back, clutching his chest as blood pours out, and King blinks a couple times, smiling down at him and running a hand through his waves of hair.
"I am hardly an "old timer", dead man."
Doc smiles in surprised admiration, and the saloon erupts into anarchy, cowboys fighting lawmen, but before the Marshall can intervene, King saunters back over toward your table nonchalantly, putting his gun away. He then strides right up to you, places a hand behind your head, and brings you in for a kiss. You moan softly against his lips as he holds you closer, and your hands go to his back, running down to hook into his belt.
"Impressively executed. I applaud you, sir," Doc chuckles as you two part, "You know just how to tug on a woman's heartstrings." He winks at you. "And get her wet as the Mississippi river, I'm sure."
You gasp, and take King's hand, looking back at Doc. "Please, both of you... this is too much fun."
"Is that a problem, Fraulein?" King smiles, moving his hands down to your hips.
"It's just what I came looking for," you murmur.
You look between the two, licking your lips, and Doc puts on his hat, taking your other arm as you're escorted out through the bar fight by the two handsome men.
"My bed's the biggest, my fellow sinners. Follow me."