Sorcerer Hunters Fan Fiction ❯ Spurs ❯ Rodeo ( Chapter 1 )
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: Miko No Hoshi 
Anime/Manga: Sorcerer Hunters Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Angst / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.15.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.1K | Visits: 319 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Sorcerer Hunters Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Angst / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.15.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.1K | Visits: 319 | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: Alas, even in the alternate universe, I own nothing.
Notes from Subaru-san: The Miko, you see, found my country music collection and as I'm sure you all know, fanfic writers and country music has never been a sucessful combination. But, without my permission of corse, she wrote several songfics {which thankfully she did not post} and this thing. Sadly, this was the best of the lot... pity her...
Spurs {working title, that it is}
Chapter One: Rodeo
A distant radio broadcasted one of the many country stations that could be picked up in the small mid-western town. Gateau recognized the song and moved his lips in sync with Garth Brooks as he climbed from his beat up Chevy. His finger still wasn't quite strait and his back ached on rainy nights, but all these were simple side effects. Planting his boots on the beaten earth, he raised his head to the sky and just took it all in. The smell of animals and sweat hung in the air, the megaphone boomed announcements, and there was a tension, unnamable and scared. This was his life. This was the rodeo.
Turning, he picked the black hat from the truck seat and placed it over his short blond hair. He would take it off at meals and tip it at the ladies, for above all, a cowboy must be a gentleman. He took up the only thing his deadbeat father had left him, he buckled on the set of pure silver spurs, tarnished from wear but as good as ever. Shutting the door with a dull thud, he grabbed a soft length of rope from the bed, swinging it a few times before coiling it into a roll and placing it on his belt. Hat. Spurs. Lasso. Heart.
With steps that jingled, he walked to the registration table. Fifty dollars per event, he could only afford one and there would be no fancy dinners next week. He took it anyway, counting away his last dollars. Tucking the papers into the breast pocket of his button down shirt, he took to find his place as number 23.
Along the way, he saw a man with spiky hair and shadowed eyes, he would never forget that face even clouded with worry as it was now. Carrot Glace, winner of a silver buckle at the Summer Events 1996, number 19. Now he was hunched over a well used payphone, gripping the handle with a hand that displayed a new ring.
"I'm up next, I gotta go."
A moment.
"Yeah, I swear, this is the last one."
Gateau knew as long as they could walk, it would never be the last one, for any of them. Carrot pushed back his sweat soaked hair to cover it with his white leather hat.
"Love you too, bye honey." The phone clicked into the cradle, followed by a sigh. Gateau placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and received a smile in return. He wondered how many calls like that had been made on that phone. Hundreds.
He reached the gates just in time to see another run. The man hung on valiantly, but he was too small. Soon he was in the dirt.
"12.3 seconds," the announcer called. The dejected man stood and shook out his purple hair. He smiled and waved. Gateau could tell he wasn't meant to be here.
"You're up in three Mocha-san," a teen spoke from beside him.
He swung a leg over the gate and jumped to the other side, heedless of exactly what he had landed in. He placed a steadying hand on the bull's hip as he walked around, it shifted under his touch, hitting the opposite wall. He accepted help to mount the bull in leau of looking foolish. He felt the familiar heat between his legs and the strong scent of excitement.
His heart took up a fast rhythm and his breath quickened. His blue eyes shed their ice and glowed bright. The rope felt rough in his calloused hand. Everything was as it should be.
Looking to the side, just over the wooden barrier, he spotted a new face among the crowd. The boy was tall but held a look of youth about him. An exceptional beauty if Gateau had ever seen one. Even the worn blue jeans and wrinkled flannel shirt couldn't take away from the pale skin and soft features. Most of all, it was his eyes. They looked out at the raging animal in the ring, big and a brown so close to gold that one couldn't really be sure they weren't made of precious metal, and deep, so deep.
The boy casually crossed his arms and laid them atop the fence, letting his foot prop itself on the lowest rail. The rider fell and as everyone else winced in sympathy, he only blinked. Turning, he noticed Gateau's stare and gave him a questioning look.
"Uh...hi."
"Why are you looking at me?" He went strait to the point, throwing Gateau off guard and leading him to say the first thing that sprung to mind.
"You have pretty eyes." Mentally smacking himself, he made a rapid apology. The boy just smiled gently at him.
Just as he was about to ask a question of importance that might perhaps further his relationship with this beauty, the announcer broke in, "Next up, Gateau Mocha riding Crillon."
It was time to tend to the love of his life.
"Let 'em go!" He shouted, gripping the rope and bracing himself for the ride.
The bull burst from the gate, swinging its head and snorting at the unwanted passenger. Gateau held tight as he was tossed from side to side, bouncing off only to land again with painful force. Narrowly avoiding a horn that reached in his direction, he lifted his hat in one hand and smiled. The crowd cheered and he fell in love all over again.
Two seconds later the rope snapped. He fell to hit the ground with a crack that he heard before he felt the pain of his newly broken leg. His head buzzed and he felt the light growing dimmer. The last thought he had before blacking out was if the boy with pretty eyes would visit him in the hospital.
He did.
~tbc?~
Subaru-san: Hoshi-sama says that if she gets five good reviews, she'll continue this, quickly, run away! {struck down by the Spork of Doom}
Notes from the Miko: Well, I don't know about this one. I kinda want to continue it, honestly 'cause I wanna try to work in some Tira/Carrot as well as Gateau/Marron. I don't know, does it suck? Be honest now, I can take it...well, maybe not, but after a few therapy session, I'll be fine!
Notes from Subaru-san: The Miko, you see, found my country music collection and as I'm sure you all know, fanfic writers and country music has never been a sucessful combination. But, without my permission of corse, she wrote several songfics {which thankfully she did not post} and this thing. Sadly, this was the best of the lot... pity her...
Spurs {working title, that it is}
Chapter One: Rodeo
A distant radio broadcasted one of the many country stations that could be picked up in the small mid-western town. Gateau recognized the song and moved his lips in sync with Garth Brooks as he climbed from his beat up Chevy. His finger still wasn't quite strait and his back ached on rainy nights, but all these were simple side effects. Planting his boots on the beaten earth, he raised his head to the sky and just took it all in. The smell of animals and sweat hung in the air, the megaphone boomed announcements, and there was a tension, unnamable and scared. This was his life. This was the rodeo.
Turning, he picked the black hat from the truck seat and placed it over his short blond hair. He would take it off at meals and tip it at the ladies, for above all, a cowboy must be a gentleman. He took up the only thing his deadbeat father had left him, he buckled on the set of pure silver spurs, tarnished from wear but as good as ever. Shutting the door with a dull thud, he grabbed a soft length of rope from the bed, swinging it a few times before coiling it into a roll and placing it on his belt. Hat. Spurs. Lasso. Heart.
With steps that jingled, he walked to the registration table. Fifty dollars per event, he could only afford one and there would be no fancy dinners next week. He took it anyway, counting away his last dollars. Tucking the papers into the breast pocket of his button down shirt, he took to find his place as number 23.
Along the way, he saw a man with spiky hair and shadowed eyes, he would never forget that face even clouded with worry as it was now. Carrot Glace, winner of a silver buckle at the Summer Events 1996, number 19. Now he was hunched over a well used payphone, gripping the handle with a hand that displayed a new ring.
"I'm up next, I gotta go."
A moment.
"Yeah, I swear, this is the last one."
Gateau knew as long as they could walk, it would never be the last one, for any of them. Carrot pushed back his sweat soaked hair to cover it with his white leather hat.
"Love you too, bye honey." The phone clicked into the cradle, followed by a sigh. Gateau placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and received a smile in return. He wondered how many calls like that had been made on that phone. Hundreds.
He reached the gates just in time to see another run. The man hung on valiantly, but he was too small. Soon he was in the dirt.
"12.3 seconds," the announcer called. The dejected man stood and shook out his purple hair. He smiled and waved. Gateau could tell he wasn't meant to be here.
"You're up in three Mocha-san," a teen spoke from beside him.
He swung a leg over the gate and jumped to the other side, heedless of exactly what he had landed in. He placed a steadying hand on the bull's hip as he walked around, it shifted under his touch, hitting the opposite wall. He accepted help to mount the bull in leau of looking foolish. He felt the familiar heat between his legs and the strong scent of excitement.
His heart took up a fast rhythm and his breath quickened. His blue eyes shed their ice and glowed bright. The rope felt rough in his calloused hand. Everything was as it should be.
Looking to the side, just over the wooden barrier, he spotted a new face among the crowd. The boy was tall but held a look of youth about him. An exceptional beauty if Gateau had ever seen one. Even the worn blue jeans and wrinkled flannel shirt couldn't take away from the pale skin and soft features. Most of all, it was his eyes. They looked out at the raging animal in the ring, big and a brown so close to gold that one couldn't really be sure they weren't made of precious metal, and deep, so deep.
The boy casually crossed his arms and laid them atop the fence, letting his foot prop itself on the lowest rail. The rider fell and as everyone else winced in sympathy, he only blinked. Turning, he noticed Gateau's stare and gave him a questioning look.
"Uh...hi."
"Why are you looking at me?" He went strait to the point, throwing Gateau off guard and leading him to say the first thing that sprung to mind.
"You have pretty eyes." Mentally smacking himself, he made a rapid apology. The boy just smiled gently at him.
Just as he was about to ask a question of importance that might perhaps further his relationship with this beauty, the announcer broke in, "Next up, Gateau Mocha riding Crillon."
It was time to tend to the love of his life.
"Let 'em go!" He shouted, gripping the rope and bracing himself for the ride.
The bull burst from the gate, swinging its head and snorting at the unwanted passenger. Gateau held tight as he was tossed from side to side, bouncing off only to land again with painful force. Narrowly avoiding a horn that reached in his direction, he lifted his hat in one hand and smiled. The crowd cheered and he fell in love all over again.
Two seconds later the rope snapped. He fell to hit the ground with a crack that he heard before he felt the pain of his newly broken leg. His head buzzed and he felt the light growing dimmer. The last thought he had before blacking out was if the boy with pretty eyes would visit him in the hospital.
He did.
~tbc?~
Subaru-san: Hoshi-sama says that if she gets five good reviews, she'll continue this, quickly, run away! {struck down by the Spork of Doom}
Notes from the Miko: Well, I don't know about this one. I kinda want to continue it, honestly 'cause I wanna try to work in some Tira/Carrot as well as Gateau/Marron. I don't know, does it suck? Be honest now, I can take it...well, maybe not, but after a few therapy session, I'll be fine!