He always stopped Robert's heart when he entered a room, without fail, without doubt. And perhaps, that was what he wanted to do.

Jesse took off his brown leather vest, and slipped out of his short, revealing tan skin littered with bullet marks and scrapes of a hundred fights Jesse had lived through. Robert looked away, barely daring to breathe. He had realized something today; undeniable truth: he was fucking terrified of Jesse. It was almost as if all his admiration and hero-worship was replaced by fear. But it wasn't all gone. Somehow, he still admired Jesse, wanted to get closet to him. Imagining, he closed his eyes. How would that skin feel to the touch? That hair, that bristly moustache, those hidden lips?

"Aren't ya going to sleep/"

Robert swallowed dry fear, yet not enough of it to keep his voice from shaking. "I am."

Jesse shrugged. Hopping in bed, he put his gun on the nightstand, loaded and cocked. The blonde man's breathe hitched in his throat. He never knew when Jesse would blow his brains out with that very pistol, the same nickel bullet, the same polished trigger.

It terrified him.

He began to take his belt off when he heard a rough, husky voice behind him. "Come here, Bob." Robert was sure Jesse was mocking him, as he knew that 'Bob' was one his attempts to seem older. Not to mention, the last time he had called him like that, Jesse had almost slit his throat while calling it a prank.

He had no desire to feel Jesse's warm hand on his neck, bearing the cold glint of a knife's blade. Nevertheless, he went.

Call it terror, or call it foolish, mindless admiration.

"Remember when I told you that you were giving me vibes like a girlfriend wanting to be kissed in the moonlight, even though she never said so?" Robert nodded. It had been the most petrifying experience of his life, and had occurred only an hour ago to boot.

"How could I forget?" Jesse playfully grabbed Robert's pale neck from the back. The silver moonlight filtered in through the billowing curtains. Robert's blood went cold.

"Well Bob, you're still giving them." And Jesse kissed him.

The kiss was overwhelmingly powerful, like every part of Jesse; the sinewy arm across his waist, the firm grip on his chin, the tongue forcing it's way in through the firmly pressed lips and into the warm, cavernous mouth.

He couldn't describe it. His feelings for the man lying next to him, that is. Jesse was snoring, actually sleeping, for what was left of the night.

Robert hadn't made a sound. Not all night. Not when Jesse released his mouth and started on his jaw line, then his throat, then his collarbone…shedding clothes as he completed his descent.

'Is this was love feels like?' Robert had wondered. If so, he suspected he had been in love with Jesse James ever since he had first saw him. The fading daylight had silhouetted his noble figure, falling over his hat's brim and creping onto his cheekbones from his hairline. Jesse James had clapped his shoulder. Robert had ended up blushing in pleasure for the first time in years. That pleasure, that yearning, that desire to be closer to Jesse than anyone else…perhaps that was what his hero-worship had consisted of.

Robert lay there; Jesse's large, sweaty arm pinning his bare chest. He pressed those fingers to his mouth. In Jesse's other hand, a gun clicked.

But for once it didn't matter. For tonight, Robert had forgotten how petrified he was of Jesse.

He had hated how Jesse made him feel. The fear, the passion, the yearning-- he hated it all. He hated the way Jesse could make his knees wobble with one look, could make him blush with one casual touch. Wasn't he destined for greater things? Yet here he was, cowering, sniveling, and whimpering in front of the man he feared and loved and hated the most.

It was pitiful. He was paralyzed by terror, yet begging for attention out of every glance Jesse through at him, and every word his spat out of those familiar, searing lips.

Well, no more. Robert steeled his eyes and pressed the trigger.

The gunshot. The dead thump of Jesse's corpse hitting the floor. Zee screaming. But none louder than the sound of his heart breaking.

His gun dropped from his hand. He collapsed on the sofa, something blurry stinging his eyes. Something escaped his lips. It was over. All over, he thought, and shut his eyes.

Jesse lay dead on the floor.


A/N: Well…*is ashamed of self* I couldn't help myself. I'm sorry! It's just that the sexual tension between these two was so delicious…I just HAD to write it. Please review and tell me it isn't that bad. Or the contrary. J