#western!din

you slide a room key across the counter and a gloved hand rests across your knuckles. “I’d like you to join me,” he says, his tone low, head tilted to the side, masked face regarding you in such a way that you can imagine the grin hiding beneath the kerchief covering his face.

“oh, I’m not available for…that,” you tell him, and it’s the truth. you run the front counter, make sure the girls are given what they’re owed, keep things clean, and make sure the rents are paid on time. he’s not the first man to make a pass at you, but he’s definitely the most interesting thus far. you’re the first to admit that you’re intrigued.

“my apologies, ma’am,” he replies, inclining his head slightly, one hand reaching up to tip his hat in your direction. “but I must say, you might be the most beautiful rose I’ve ever seen in this godforsaken desert.”

it sends a thrill through you, and though you can hear the giggles and shrieks of the other girls upstairs, you gather your skirts, close up the books cluttering the front counter, and go lock up the front door. all the while, din watches you, arms crossed over his chest, the rifle slung over his shoulder glinting in the low light.

as soon as the bolt is slid home, there’s a hand resting on the curve of your neck. a bare hand, knuckles rough but the palm soft, warm and heavy against your pulse. before you know it you’re being turned slowly, until your back is pressed to the wood of the door. “close your eyes, darlin’,” his voice commands, and your lids flutter shut seemingly of their own accord.

the kiss is light but lingering, at first. there’s a shift of fabric, his mask being raised, and his mouth is shockingly soft, save for the gentle scrape of the facial hair surrounding his lips. he tastes like whiskey and something else familiar that just leaves you wanting more.

you let out a little moan and the kiss grows deeper, the hand at your neck moving up to tangle in your hair, his other resting on your skirt-covered hip, fingers twisting in the fabric. you grip the leather of his jacket like a lifeline, knuckles going white with the force. you don’t want this to end, this sporadic kiss with a stranger, tall, dark, and…is he handsome? it’s a minute before you realize you haven’t seen his face.