A Gunslinger's Pride:
The Old West, 1885.
Yosemite Sam, the roughest, toughest he-man stuffiness hombre who ever crossed the Rio Grande… and he weren't no namby-pamby either.
Everyone knew Yosemite Sam hated Bugs Bunny. It was a universal fact, through every one of their lives. If you lived under a rock all your life, you'd still know Sam wanted to find the meddlesome rabbit, unload a round of bullets, and run his hide clean through with lead. The consarned coyote had been a thorn in his side for years - always thwarting him, outsmarting him, making a fool out of him. But Bugs Bunny had gone too far this time.
During his last hold-up, the big galoot had once again tricked and humiliated Sam by pulling his pants down in the middle of heist, in front of all his hostages. And onlookers. And prying cameras. He'd tried to save face, but the damage was already done. He could never show his face in Dodge City again… because of that rabbit.
And that was why he was finally going to do it. He was finally going to kill Bugs Bunny and rid himself of his rival once and for all.
((()-()))
Blissfully unaware of his oncoming fate, Bugs stretched his lanky limbs across his seat and closed his eyes. He had just stopped Sam's latest attempt at an armed robbery and now that the brawny little runt was behind bars where he belonged, the mischievous hare was on his way to Abilene. Traveling by railroad was a lot more reliable than tunneling these days; especially since the bunny always seemed to get mixed up around Albuquerque.
"What is it about that place that's so confusing anyway?", Bugs lazily contemplated.
"Reach for the sky rabbit!", a low, gruff voice snarled.
Bugs froze. The grey rabbit opened his eyes to gape at something totally unexpected. Yosemite Sam, in the carriage with him, his hands in his gun-belt, clutching what Bugs knew were his trademark dual guns.
"Sammy, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be in jail", he asked, somewhat nervous now.
Samuel didn't answer. Instead, the muscular midget man turned around, and to Bug's creeping dread, locked the door to his booth.
"What are you doing?", the rabbit questioned, a bead of sweat appearing on his brow.
"Neither us of is leaving this room 'til we reach an understanding, varmint", Sam growled, brow creasing as he turned back to glare at the hare.
Now Bugs gulped. This was bad. Sam had somehow managed to sneak up on him and catch him with his defenses down. He always hated it when that happened. But he had to think fast.
As Sam approached him, Bugs climbed off his seat and started moving along the wall of the booth. "Um, Sam, don't you think you oughta?-", he started to suggest.
"Shaddup rabbit!", the cowboy snapped. "I know all yer tricks. I know if ah let ya talk you'll just try to make a fool out of me", he countered. In a matter of seconds, the burly cutthroat had cornered the skinny rabbit, finally getting him right he wanted him. He sneered evilly as he reached for his weapons. It went unnoticed though, by both man and bunny, that a lump was starting to form between the outlaw's legs, pronounced by his tight denim jeans and his chaps.
You didn't need to be a genius to guess what was coming next, but for once Bugs couldn't think of anything; he just didn't have time. The hare frantically, desperately, combed his brain for any bright ideas or escape plans as Sam pressed him further against the wall, chest against belly.
The half-pint outlaw stood on the edge of his boots, stretching his body to the limits just so he could at least come close to talking to Bugs face-to-face. "If you've got any last words rabbit, you'd better say 'em now", Sam fairly warned him, his hands firmly grasping the contents of his gun belt.
Bugs nodded, understanding. "Just three…pucker up doc", the rabbit retorted, to Sam's perplexion, before the hare grabbed him by his sides and pulled the bandit into the air. Sam's arms flailed around angrily as he found himself locking lips forcefully, deeply and passionately with his rival.
This was so wrong.
And it went on for about a minute. Just long enough for Sam to need to breathe through his nose, just long enough for him to actually start to feel the groove of it, just long enough for him to actually start to get into it a bit, and just long enough for him to come anywhere near close to admitting that last bit to himself, when, at last, Bugs released him.
When it was all (mercifully) over, Bugs released him and the cowpoke fell back onto the floor, landing flat on his jean-clad ass. Wasting no time jumping back on his feet, he wiped a gloved hand across his lips in disgust in a manner that seemed almost too aggressive. Bugs on the other hand, had gone from sweaty face terror to side-splitting laughter in a matter of seconds.
Sam snarled and wiped his lips one last time for good measure, before picking up where he left off. "Ya see?! This is exactly why ah came here to tan your hide – all this disrespect! Ah have reputation you know, and yer tarnishin' it with all your goldurned pranks!", he seethed.
Bugs chortled, feeling more confident now, and tossed a lazy arm around the hotheaded brute's shoulder. "Aw come on Doc, ya gotta lighten up a little. Let your hare down. See what I did there? Let your 'hare' down?", he snickered.
He really shouldn't have done that. Now was not the time for a bad pun.
In the blink of an eye, Sam reached for his belt and whipped out an enormous six-shooter, shoving it right in Bug's face.
The rabbit's eyes bulged, realizing the time for jokes had passed. Thinking fast again, he shoved one of his fingers into the barrel.
"Move your hand, bunny", Sam growled, his voice all low and threatening and husky once more.
"No", Bugs denied.
"Move your hand so ah can blast you!", Sam barked. It was a miracle no one had heard them by now. Or maybe they had but they were simply ignoring all the commotion because they had seen Yosemite Sam enter the carriage.
"No, I will not move my hand. I kinda like being in one piece", Bugs replied stubbornly.
Sam's eyes narrowed. "Fine, ah'll just shoot ya anyway", he decided.
Bugs' face turned ghostly white. "But…but you know that'll blow us both to kingdom come!", he reasoned.
"I don't care", Sam retorted flippantly.
Bugs head craned back in confusion. "Since when did you become a suicidal maniac as well as a homicidal one?", he questioned.
"The day I became a laughingstock among outlaws", the brigand replied. "Ah was already known as 'the shortest cowboy in the west', now I'm the dumbest one too. Ah've been in and out jail, ah haven't been able to pull off a successful robbery in years, and it's all yer fault! If I'm gonna put myself out of my misery, I'm a-taking you down with me", he decided.
Bugs again found himself grasping at straws, trying to think his way out of a frustrating situation that just kept getting worse and worse.
This wasn't like Sam. He was always so predictable. Now he was talking about killing them both. And Bugs didn't know what to do about that.
"Come on Sammy, life's not that bad. Ya still got me", he reasoned, grinning half-heartedly.
But that only made Sam cock the gun.
"WAIT! WAIT! Just wait!", Bugs pleaded.
Miraculously, Sam listened for a change, quirking his brow and easing back on the trigger, possibly out of that 'respect for the dead' stuff he believed in.
"You don't have to kill us, man! This is about pride right? Well I'll back off. I'll ease off you for a while, let you build up your reputation as the roughest, toughest, he-man-whatever again", Bugs suggested.
Sam scoffed, throwing his Stetson-clad head back. "Am I supposed to believe that?", he asked bitterly.
"Yes! Yes. Because I'm not stupid and I don't wanna die", Bugs insisted.
Sam's scowl remained unchanged, but after thinking for a while (who only knew what went on inside that head of his), he started to lower his arm and Bugs knew he had convinced him. But no sooner had Bugs felt safe enough to remove his finger from the barrel than Sam had pointed the gun back at him again, dead between his eyes.
"If yer lyin' to me, I swear ah'll hunt yer furry rump down and make ya regret ever doing it. Ya got that, rabbit?", the burly cutthroat warned him, his already gruff, redneck accent returning to a sharp, earthy and strangely appealing cadence, the way it always did when he tried to sound tough.
"Duly noted", Bugs Bunny complied.
Yosemite Sam stared a moment longer, still clearly disbelieving, before huffing and begrudgingly shoving his gun back into his holster. With that settled, the old west desperado folded his arms across his barrel chest, and for the first time in several minutes, Bugs let himself breathe normally.
"So, what's the catch of our little deal, rabbit? Cause ya always have one", the grizzled bandit asked impatiently.
"Catch?", Bugs thought, puzzled. Well, he supposed it was true. He never was one to make things easy for someone, nor the sort of person you'd want to take at face value. And looking at Sam now…
"Glad you asked. It's a pretty simple catch, so don't go getting all trigger-happy again", he chided teasingly. "I want you to kiss me", he decided, before bracing himself for the oncoming outburst.
"WHAT?!"
"What did I just say?"
"Yer out of your mind if ya think I'm doing that again!", a pissed off Sam declared, perhaps too defensively.
"Why not? Don't you cowboy dudes do stuff like that all the time when you're alone?", Bugs inquired. "I think I saw a movie about that once. Or maybe I heard a song about it", he added to himself, though Sam clearly wasn't amused. At least the surly brute wasn't trying to shoot up the place anymore and their usual dynamic seemed to be returning.
"Come on doc, I don't see what the big deal is. We've done it plenty of times", he reasoned.
Sam folded his arms indignantly at the memory, ignoring the minor, hidden twitch in his boxers that surfaced again. "Why do ya even want to kiss meh anyway?", he demanded.
Bugs thought about telling him 'because it's fun', but then that would kinda contradict what he always thought about himself, that he wasn't stupid. "In some countries, two men kissing is a sign of peace and respect. Look at the French", he pointed out.
"But this ain't some foreign country rabbit, this is America! Grown men don't kiss!", Sam argued, before the outlaw paused and lowered his hat to his chest. "Unless they're intimately involved", he added respectfully, tossing his sombrero-like Stetson back on.
Bugs raised his eyebrow. For a self-proclaimed, murderous bad guy, Sam seemed to have a lot of respect for a lot of different things. Bugs had never really thought about it before, but maybe the guy had layers?
"Come on Sammy, what are you so scared of, embarrassing yourself? It's just the two of us here. No one will ever know, and I'll be out of your hare", Bugs reasoned, forcing himself not to laugh once he realized he'd made another pun without even trying.
Sam thought for a moment about cutting his losses and calling off their deal, falling back on good ole reliable brute force and bullying once more to shut up the rabbit. Instead, the cowpoke sucked in air and let out one, long, exaggerated sigh, running a gloved hand through his familiar bushy red mustache and ultimately resigning himself. "Fine! Fine", he rumbled, lifting his head and puffing out his chest as he stepped one foot towards the big galoot.
Bug's eyes lit up. He couldn't believe Sam actually gave in. He was hoping he would but he didn't think he actually would. Sam must really want him gone.
Bugs tried not to think too hard about what that said about him.
The masked desperado stopped just a few inches short of him, hands on his belt and a complacent, challenging, daring look on the dusty outlaw's face.
"Well what are waiting fer, varmint? Make yer move", the tough guy griped.
"Um, the deal was you kiss me", Bugs reminded him.
After that, it was quiet for a beat and Yosemite Sam blinked. "Yer not gonna make this easy for me, are ya?", he figured.
Bugs mouthed the word 'nope' and silently wondered what Sam's next move would be.
To his surprise, the hotheaded bandit snorted once more. And after that, he chuckled lowly to himself. Yosemite Sam had cooled off some time ago, and whatever sense of humor he had was starting to return to the badman with the absurdity of it all. The roguish cowboy glanced up at Bugs with a smug smirk on his face.
"Alright then. You want this from me, rabbit? You wanna piss me off? You wanna mess with a bull n' rile me up? Push yer luck? Well get on down here varmint, and I'll show you how a real man kisses a scrawny little dude like you. I'll show it to ya real good", Sam rumbled cockily, his word a threat, a taunt, and a promise of some form of payback that truth be told, both of them would find rather enjoyable.
Bugs swallowed a lump in his throat he didn't know he had and bent forward on his hunches, trying not to appear too eager about getting to have his little 'fun'. He cracked a grin that Sam on any other day would have found annoying, but now it just spurred the rogue on.
Yosemite Sam clenched a tuft of Bugs' chest fur in his gloved fist and drug the bunny in close to him, clasping the back of Bugs' head with his other palm, and slammed their faces together messily, meeting with a clash. Bugs' eyes popped and Sam grunted, low and guttural in his chest, as the pair subsequently tried to line-up neatly.
Sam's top and bottom lips maneuvered over Bugs' fuzz as shamelessly, roughly and fiercely as Bugs would have expected, considering he'd pushed the outlaw past his insecurities. Instead of being a quick peck, the kiss dragged on; heady and masculine, covering every inch of the rabbit's maw, entirely unlike the slobbery wet ones Bugs often bestowed on Sam – all while Sam's grip on his skull and torso became almost bruising. It was all too easy to become lost in the new, deepening experience and after a few more moments, Bugs felt himself emit a little, embarrassing moan of pleasure, Sam smirking against his lips in satisfaction.
As he continued to plunder and pillage the rabbit's face, he slid his leathery palm down Bugs' head to rest comfortably on his neck. He'd come here to kill the rabbit, or at the very least tan his tail black and blue. Of course he'd let Bugs Bunny talk him out of it, but this… this was just as good. Maybe even better. He'd still gotten the upper hand over the rabbit and now that he'd started he had no intentions of stopping.
To Sam's frustration though, Bugs did eventually pull away from the cattleman, partly for air and partly to gather his wits. Bugs locked eyes with the half-pint, gunslinging, headstrong bully. "Eh, why are we still doing this, doc?", he questioned, surprised.
Sam sneered. "Isn't this what ya wanted? What ye've been pushing for? Ya wanna do queer acts with me, rabbit? Well Yosemite Sam never does things halfway", the gruff cowboy remarked sternly, before a look of smugness returned. "Unless yer yellow", he taunted the hare.
In response, Bugs smacked his lips, at something of a crossroads. Everything he was feeling right now was new, very new. Sure, he'd always gotten a special thrill out of riling Sam up, pantsing him a few times. But he had never shown this kind of sexual interest towards anyone before (he was starting to wonder if he ever would). He'd dated girls in the past (including the lovely but talkative Lola Bunny) and he more than admired their curvy physique, but things were never this hot or intense with them. With women, of both human and rabbit-kind, he always had to be so soft, so gentle with them, even when doing something as simple as kissing or grabbing them by the hand. But Sam, unsurprisingly, didn't even try to hold back. He was so rough and tumble with him; fueled by rage and adrenaline and lust and brashness. As clichéd as it sounded, Bugs only now realized that he liked the cowboy's signature roughness.
The rabbit always did love a challenge, maybe that was why he kept gravitating back to Sam all the time. He was the first troublemaking hombre who had ever really been a challenge for him, compared to guys like Daffy and Elmer. He was a hard dude, if a gullible one, and Bugs liked that about him, he liked that a lot. And now Sam was propositioning him?
Bugs blinked, then grinned lecherously. "You're on", he accepted.
Leering, the burly masked bandit sauntered forward, fingers looped through his gunbelt, gesturing for the hare to step forward and resume where they left off. And that's exactly what they did. With no reservations this time, Bugs fully appreciated the thick, salty bristles of Sam's beard and mustache brushing up against his face, giving him static shivers. While Sam, a lot less forceful and a bit less lustful, let himself fully enjoy the contours of the willy rabbit's face (including those buck teeth of his); lips smacking, clasping both arms around the critter's back in a tight, hard, heady embrace.
Eventually both men had to breathe (as much as they wanted to keep going, their starved lungs demanded they separate), so Sam let go of Bugs' chin and the rabbit fell back against the wall, gasping for air.
Sam meanwhile huffed and puffed like the big bad wolf, though for once it wasn't because of his short temper. His arousal was unmistakably plain. The bulge in his coarse, denim jeans could be seen even in the darkness of the booth, framed by the tightness of his chaps.
One of the upsides of being a cowboy were the tight, constricting jeans they all wore that rubbed in on their erections all the time, creating pleasurable, unintentional friction, making them that much harder and hornier when they were in the mood. Inside his trousers, the robber's member was throbbing, pulsating. Begging for somebody to give it attention; to tend to it's needs.
Bugs was mesmerized by it.
Sam followed the rabbit's gaze down to his below-the-belt area and uncharacteristically smirked. "Go ahead, varmint", he invited him teasingly, folding his arms.
Bugs, in a zombie-like state, moved towards him; his feet shuffling across the floor. Despite looking all empty and zoned-out, Bugs was vaguely aware that he had lost his mind. He was sitting in a booth with Yosemite Sam, a certifiable nut-job, and he wanted to have sex with him.
And Sam thought he was the master of turning things around.
Still, he always told the kiddies at home to just roll with the mad things that went on in his world; now it looked like it was time for him to take his own advice. He just hoped those kiddies weren't watching at the moment.
For once, Sam was the smug one as Bugs stopped in front of him and slowly removed his white gloves from his hands. He then rubbed his now-unprotected paw up and down Sam's shirt, stroking his sweaty chest, before he lowered it down further. He placed his other hand on Sam's back and pulled the outlaw closer to him, still in that dazed, slightly-out-of-it state of mind.
He paused right above the area of Sam's body that was calling out to him the most. There was a tiny bit of rational thought leftover in him that hadn't been completely consumed by lust yet, and he was trying to decide whether or not he really wanted to go through with this. He was about to sex with Yosemite Sam, the biggest jackass in the west.
But any of that hesitation nonsense was destroyed by three little words on Sam's part. "Do it, rabbit", he coaxed, his gruff, baritone voice becoming impossibly sexy, rumbling in the back of his throat as he tempted the rabbit, goaded him.
No longer afraid to take the plunge, Bugs placed his paw right on top of Sam's package and started to caress the erect muscle through the fabric, getting a good grip on the man's pipe.
Sam's eyes rolled to the back of his head and the outlaw shuddered with pleasure that even the most hardened and gritty of bandits would have a hard time resisting, easing into the rabbit's heated touch. "Don't hold back, varmint", he ordered.
Bugs nodded, agreeing with him. Sam was apparently calling the shots now, and for once he was perfectly content with following orders. He needed this just as much as Sammy did. His furry penis had grown, jutting out of his grey fur. It stood tall and proud between them, jabbing him in the stomach as visible proof of what a wanton rabbit he was. He felt so naughty.
He took things to the next level by slipping his hand down Sam's pants, bypassing that troublesome belt buckle and grabbing the snake in his boxers. He pulled and tugged on Sam's member, rubbing it and squeezing it as it grew thicker and thicker in his palm.
Neither Bugs nor Sam had had sex in a while (onscreen anyway, for obvious reasons) so neither of them would last for very long. Especially since Bugs was determined to make Sam come as quickly as possible. Not only was he stroking him off, but the paw that had once been on Sam's back was now used to shamelessly grope his butt through his tight-ass jeans and chaps, indulging in every headed thought as he kneaded the bandit's backside. Though rawhide material, Bugs moved back and forth between each buttcheek, rubbing circles in them and really getting the feel of them, savoring their stiffness.
Sam couldn't be more proud of himself. He had finally gotten the better of Bugs Bunny. Sure, it wasn't in the way he had initially intended, but his rival was practically putty in his hands. And despite all the 'ook', 'eek' sounds that escaped his lips as Bugs had his way with his body, the grin on his face remained triumphant.
"He may be a pest, but he's mighty fine at this", the bandit noted, smirking.
Eventually, Bug's diligence paid off. Sam came, shooting load after load of his essence into his drawers, tight jeans and chaps, while yelling out a string of expletives that really only made sense to the man alone.
Heaven only knew what the other passengers thought was going on; not that Sam cared about those lily-livered pansies or the fact that his weather-worn, abused jeans would be sticking to his skin all night. No, the only thing he concentrated on was that Bugs had managed to get him off like a pro, and the rabbit wasn't too far behind him himself.
It was quite possibly the hottest thing Bugs had ever seen: a macho, violent hombre like Yosemite Sam, a hardcore, thuggish cutthroat, losing control and proudly, unashamedly creaming in his jeans. Marking those denims with his seed. In fact, it was a bit too much for Bugs Bunny.
The rabbit writhed erratically. Wads of pearly white liquid squirted out of his dick, same as the creamy, gooey stuff that was seeping out of Sam's crotch. But unlike Sam, Bugs' come was unrestrained by any article of clothing, so it flew everywhere; sticking to the floor, to his chest, to Sam's shirt.
Eventually, his reserves dried up, but it took Bugs a moment to realize that. He spent an indeterminable amount of time marveling at the bliss that an orgasm always brought someone, and marveling at the fact that it was Yosemite Sam who had brought him to this point.
He released Sam's soggy, flaccid cock and drew his paw out of his pants. Stepping back, he sank to the floor, trying to understand everything that had just happened and why it happened. Then he noticed that Yosemite hadn't gone still like he had.
The hotblooded bandit hastily removed his belt buckle so he could willingly drop his pants to his knees for once and rid himself of both items.
"What are you doing?", Bugs asked, eyes widening. It was the first thing he had managed to say since things began to escalate.
"Gettin' ready fer the next part. I told ya I don't do things halfway", the redheaded criminal reminded him. Then he caught sight of Bugs' expression and his lips twisted into another self-satisfied smirk. "Unless ya wanna back out?", he suggested.
Bugs frowned, whatever anxiety he had felt evaporating. Sam wasn't the only one who had his pride. No one accused Bugs Bunny of being a coward.
"What's next?", he asked, more calmly this time; though really he already knew the answer.
"Get down on yer back", Sam answered, untying his bandana and pulling his now sweat-and-come-stained shirt over his head.
Bugs did as Sam said and laid back on the cool floor of the carriage. Sam sat back on his ass in front of him and pulled the rabbit forward, so his rump was resting right above his lap. He was now straddling the bunny, leering at him eagerly.
Looking up, Bugs saw the lawless robber spit on his palms and rub them together on his short but meaty dick, the dick that was already growing again in anticipation. As Bugs watched him slick himself up, he didn't know whether to feel excited as well or worried that the spit wouldn't be enough lubrication to do things… smoothly, properly. To be honest, he felt both, thanks to his two heads working currently.
He was in the middle of contemplating that when Sam spoke unexpectedly. "Alright varmint, spread yer legs and open yer hole", he growled.
It took Bugs a moment to realize what he meant, but when he did as he asked he reached his paws between his buttocks and used them to widen the little pucker beneath his tail; exposing it for Sam to fill. It was a small one, no doubt about it, but for a guy the size of Yosemite Sam it would be a snug fit.
Sam, buck-naked now (save for his hat) held his rigid dick tightly between his palms as he zeroed in on his target; a shit-eating grin the size of Texas dominating his face.
Bugs braced himself and the minute Sam penetrated him the rabbit howled like a wild wolf.
It was sweet, sweet music to Sam's ears.
"Yeah, ya like that, don't ya?", the desperado taunted him as he slid his way in.
Perhaps Bugs was exaggerating, perhaps he was being kind of a wuss. A small part of him was considering that possibility. But when he figured Sam's dick would be a snug fit, he had no idea about how much of an understatement that was. Short or not, Sam's cock was fairly thick and fairly wide. Furthermore, Bugs had never taken a cock up his ass before, so he had to be broken in. Like a wild horse.
To fully accommodate Sam's member, his tunnel had to be widened. Flesh was pushed to the side, skin was stretched to the limit in ways Bugs was entirely unused to, and the rabbit had no idea about how to deal with any of this other than to ball his fists and let out of the occasional whine.
Which only turned Sam on more.
Sam was relentless, paying no heed to whatever burn the critter might have felt, knowing it would all be worth it in a matter of time. The outlaw filled him, inch by inch; his balls dangling near the rabbit's tail, slapping his rump near constantly. His prick buried deep inside the hare, Sam relished the feeling of hot flesh surrounding him on all sides.
Finally, he stopped when he was all the way in.
The room went still.
The rabbit relaxed; the burn of Sam's initial intrusion fading already to give way to the odd sensation of having the bandit's member plunged deep inside the most intimate part of his body.
Bugs panted a bit, beads of sweat dripping down his brow. "Sammy, be honest with me. You've done this before, haven't you?", he asked, feeling like prying.
Sam snorted. "Wouldn't you like to know, rabbit?", the thief grunted, sweat appearing on his own hairy red chest and his brow as well. "You ready for this, coyote?", he inquired. He'd had a long time to cool off, and despite being seriously pissed with Bugs before, the urge to actually hurt his rival or do more than rough him up had faded by now. Balls deep in the rabbit, he wanted him to get as sucked into this experience as he was. He wanted the pride of making a man-bunny come.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm ready", Bugs steelily decided.
Sam grunted one last time and shoved onwards. After pushing his way through the last of Bugs' defenses, he reached what he had been looking for, the pleasure center of nearly every living critter – the prostate. Like always, he didn't hold back; he slammed into that sweet spot, making Bugs writhe and shiver and dig his claws into the floor of the carriage. There was no way anybody on the train hadn't heard them by now, but Sam still didn't give a damn about them. Not a single flying fuck. No one onboard would even think about telling the masses Yosemite Sam was queer, unless they wanted to meet the end of his six-shooter.
The midget man was close to losing it, and Bugs probably was as well. Sam gripped Bug's sides firmly to hold the rabbit exactly where the outlaw wanted and to keep him close to him at all times. "Bunny, before this is over, I want you to tell me something", he requested, more salt water dripping down his forehead.
"What?", Bugs shuddered as his body rose and fell repeatedly from the rump up.
"Who's the man ye let fuck yer ass?", Sam taunted, moving his dick around freely.
"Is…this…really…necessary?", Bugs argued, vibrating now.
"Say it", Sam demanded, scowling but not stopping.
"Nuh-uh", Bugs insisted.
Sam rolled his eyes. "Just man up and say it", he persisted, giving Bugs a particularly pleasurable, hard thrust right in his slick, tight cunt and letting the soft, heated flesh clamp down on his rod to weaken the rabbit's resolve, shuddering pleasurably in the process.
As Bugs felt his last shred of self-control fading, the rabbit clenched his teeth. "Yosemite Sam", he managed to mumble out.
Yosemite smirked. "Roughest, toughest cowboy in the west", he declared, satisfied, before he decided to deliver the killing blow. He gave the rabbit a few more rough, passionate thrusts, back-to-back, and all it took was one last impact from Sam's dick to set Bugs' prostate on overdrive. The bunny's back arched and he groaned audibly, semen spewing out his dick at first before he started shooting his seed high in the air, splattering all over Sam's hairy chest and chin, making a mess out of his torso. Not that the horny brute minded.
The thuggish cowboy (still humping) somehow managed to keep hold of his position with one hand, and use the other hand to take off that damnably sexy cowboy hat of his and spin it in the air like he was riding a bucking bronco. "Yee-haw! I've struck gold!", he yelled, one last bit of teasing, as Bug's come continued to paint the red, wiry hairs on his chest white.
The thrill of seeing his rival melt beneath him was just what Sam needed to get off too. When he reached his own climax, his dick exploded with tons of built-up, piping hot come, filling Bug's ass quickly and trickling down onto the carpeted floor before them (he almost pitied the city-folk who would be riding this carriage after them and the dudes who would have to clean it out. Almost).
When it was over, finally over, Sam unsurprisingly swore. "Fuck, I needed that. I really fucking needed that", he muttered entirely to himself, his raging hard, sticky dick still inside Bugs. Bugs meanwhile was just trying to collect himself and fully process what just happened. Sam secured his hat on his head and waited for his member to calm down enough to pull out of Bugs, while the rabbit mostly returned to his senses.
When Yosemite Sam did pull out of Bugs, Bugs' hand quickly reached up and grabbed Sam's shoulder. For a moment, the badman wondered if Bugs was looking to retaliate, if the rabbit wanted some payback of his own for becoming the outlaw's bottom bitch and being bred like a mare, but when the rabbit pulled him close to his chest, wrapping his arms around him, Sam realized he simply didn't want him to leave yet. Bugs was always the touchy-feely sort. Sam snorted. Before he might have minded, but right now he was exhausted from doing most of the work and he didn't mind a little spooning.
Both men were hot and sweaty - Bug's fur clinging to Sam's skin like metal to a magnet - and they both of reeked of sex, but they ignored how dirty they were (getting a little filthy when you were traveling in the Old West was a given anyway). They were too busy thinking about how they had just had the time of their lives. Neither man spoke a word, telling each other all they needed to know through their expressions. Sam still hadn't moved off Bugs' chest (the bunny suspected he rather liked lying up there), and after a while he let his arms drop around Bugs' side, gripping the rabbit almost possessively.
After a minute of laying like that, they were kissing again, but not just out of lust. No, they both suspected there was something else mixed in as well this time, something even more new. They couldn't explain what it was or where it came from. They both just knew they were starting to like the feeling of kissing each other. That spark, that belligerent tension that had always been between the pair since the day had met had finally boiled over into something extraordinary, and though they would probably never admit it, they both knew it had changed the dynamic between them irrevocably.
While the molding of their lips went on, Bugs slowly worked his hands down Sam's back and took the opportunity to squeeze his bare naked glutes again.
Sam grunted pleasurably and raised his eyebrows an inch, pulling away from the varmint."Yer a real horny toad, ya know that rabbit?", the tough guy asked rhetorically.
"Yep", Bugs retorted, keeping his hands exactly where they were.
((()-()))
The next morning, their train arrived in Abilene and despite everything that transpired the night before, they honored their agreement and went their separate ways as amicably as the pair could. Sam's pony was waiting for him at the station. Bugs had no idea how the little horse beat them there, and again he decided not to question it.
Yosemite was off to rob another bank, but this time Bugs didn't try to stop him. A deal was a deal after all. He had plenty of other weirdoes to pester, like Daffy Duck or Elmer Fudd, or that creepy Martian guy he kept running into. Besides, he figured the clueless crook would find a way to sabotage himself three minutes into the theft anyway.
For now he'd give Sam his space and let him repair his broken reputation. But he would come back for him one day. Because he knew (even if his tiny rival wouldn't admit it) that both of them would die of boredom without their little games now and again. Especially since they now had a brand new one to play.
Thanks to Sammy, Bugs' interest in Yosemite had only doubled and he had to admit, he kind of respected him more now.
((()-()))
It was high noon in Carson City. The muggy hot sun bore down on the dusty, deserted streets of the western town, blazing ominously. Every citizen in Carson was either hiding in their houses or keeping their distance, waiting with bated breath because the two greatest titans in the west were about to face off once more.
On one end of the town's main street, a firm leathery boot ground down on gravel, followed by another identical boot as an armed, burly outlaw stepped out into the glaring sun to stare down his rival. His mustache furrowed as he glared out ahead of him.
On the other end of the street, a taller, lankier hare and a lawman to boot sauntered out onto the terrain to match the man's movements; cool as a cucumber but still game for what they both knew was to come.
Sam smirked and let his hands rest easily, cockily on his gunbelt, inches away from his trusty six-shooters, ready to fire them off.
Bugs gazed up at him from underneath his hat and smiled lazily, undeterred by the tough guy's bravado.
Sam grunted quietly and started to approach the rabbit, taking his time with his long, slow steps and hunching over slightly, a cocky smirk reappearing on his face. Bugs mimicked his actions and started to do his part in the duel, loping on over to meet Yosemite Sam halfway. The wabbit with no name was doing an admirable job in showing no fear.
After half a minute, the cowboy and the critter stood face-to-face (or perhaps face-to-chest); Bugs gazing down at Sam and Yosemite staring up at Bugs in absolute, uncharacteristic silence. Men and women watching didn't dare make a sound, save for breathing, in fear of altering the outcome. They only hoped that cutthroat bully, Sam, got his just deserts.
The barrel-chested bank robber leered up at the rabbit, oozing machismo and gripping his hands firmly around his pistols, waiting for Bugs to draw. It didn't go unnoticed by the bandit or the lawman that Sam was hard as a rock, with his fully erect dick now straining against the inseam of his denim jeans.
Bugs hunched over himself and smacked his lips. 'Eh, I don't really want to do this, Doc", he admitted, confidentially.
Sam huffed. "Me either, varmint", he acknowledged. After a moment, he released his hand from one of his guns and clasped the fur on Bugs' back with his meaty palm, manhandling the hare. "Let's slap leather", he growled, groping him.
And just like that, they kissed. Man and bunny slammed into each other and plunged in as deep as they could, nipping and sucking at each other's whiskery faces as they ran their hands up and down each other's sides. Paying no mind to the stunned people that were watching, Sam ground his heated, protruding crotch into Bug's belly, running his dick along his partner, determined to get himself and the rabbit off as quickly as possible. Humping him like a dog with a bulging, needy package. And before long...
Sam let himself startle and his eyes flit open, feeling his groin grow hotter and wetter down below his belt. For a moment, he wondered if he'd pissed himself again, like that time he realized he was holding a stick of lit dynamite and it went off in his hand. Instead, he realized he had simply came like he wanted to in his head. The whole thing, the showdown, had been a dream, and he was lying on his back in his makeshift camp. The sun wouldn't be up for another few hours, but he was sure as hell wide awake now. And horny.
Sam swore again, but made no attempt to move or change his trousers. Instead, he let the sticky heat pool around his balls and his member as he thought once more about the grey hare that had been wandering into his dreams lately. He'd found himself thinking about Bugs sometimes during the day, but dismissed any such thoughts as ridiculous restlessness, but if the rabbit could haunt his dreams and spur this kind of reaction out of him without even being present, perhaps his gut was trying to tell him something. Or his dick. That was also a possibility.
Sam groaned and let his head lie back on his pillow. Even if he was thinking what he thought he was thinking, there was nothing he could do about it now anyway. Not until sun-up. For now, he'd content himself with jerking off his heady member until he went to sleep again, or maybe think of all the banks out there he could rob, or all the sheriffs he could blast and riddle with bullets. That put a whiskery grin on the outlaw's face.
((()-()))
About a month after he'd threatened his rival on a train to Abilene, Yosemite Sam found himself sitting in a jail cell in Tombstone, stripped of his guns and without a soul to talk to. The sheriff had left for town an hour ago, and left him to count the stars littering the sky until he came back.
It seemed like another one of Sam's robberies had gone horribly wrong. Or had it?
A door opened behind him, and the public menace turned around so he could see out the bars of his cell. He sneered when he saw who had come to visit him. "I always knew you'd come looking for me. It was only a matter of time", he reckoned brusquely.
The stranger tipped the end of his cowboy hat and placed a carrot in his mouth like it was a cigarette. "Eh, I heard you were looking for me too. You knew I was passing through town so you got yourself locked up here. You're sloppy Sam, but you're not that sloppy", the man countered.
Sam shrugged. "What can I say? Patience was never one of mah strong suits. Now are ya gonna give me back mah guns, or stand there in the shadows all night try'n ta to look mysterious?", the bandit asked impatiently.
Bugs Bunny rolled his eyes and reached for the gun belt and key chain hanging on the east wall. Opening the cell door, he gave the short man his precious weapons back. "Now why do you wanna see me?", he inquired.
Sam's cockiness gradually disappeared, and to Bug's curiosity, he lowered his head a little, clearing his throat and making an attempt to puff out his chest.
"Rabbit, I'm gonna be honest with ya. Ah thought what we did last month was just sex, pure n' simple. But over these past few weeks ah've realized life on the trails can get mighty lonesome", he muttered, kicking his boots through the dusty floor. "I've always done the criminal gig solo, just the way ah like it. But now ah reckon…every cowboy needs some kind of companionship", he explained.
Bugs nodded, following along well enough. In fact, what he was saying reminded him a lot like that movie he saw, but for the life of him he couldn't remember what its name was.
Yosemite lowered his hat, and this choice really intrigued to him. The rabbit knew the muscular man only took off his hat out of respect for the dead, respect for a lady, or plain old nervousness (something that the brag-happy, boisterous brigand rarely ever felt).
With his hat now pressed against his chest, Sam pressed onward. "But I can't picture that companion being any old coyote, or some namby-pamby wimp. Seeing as how you're the only critter who's ever been brave enough and tough enough to try to tame me…well…I…I was wondering if you'd like to come with me rabbit? Just for a little while anyway", he suggested, finally revealing his true intentions.
Now it all made sense. Bug's lips curled upwards and his face glowed. He couldn't resist what he said next. "Oh, I get it now. Basically, you're asking me if you want me to hold your hand? Or cuddle with you on those cold nights on the prairie? Or…", he joked, laughing.
"Damn it rabbit!", Sam snapped, cutting Bugs off and making him straighten himself up. "Here I am making a complete fool out of myself, for you, and you won't even take me seriously long enough to answer my question!", the fugitive gripped.
Bugs eyes sank to the floor, feeling like a grade-A heel.
"I don't even know why I called ya here. This whole thing was a mistake", Sam fumed, brushing past the tall bunny and heading towards the door to the sheriff's office.
"Sam, wait!", Bugs said, grabbing Sam's shoulder to stop him.
The midget frowned at him, and Bugs, the eternal man-child, knew it was finally time to get serious and make a grown-up decision.
After all, Sam had gone to all this trouble just to ask him out on a date. Imagine that, Yosemite Sam, willing to swallow his dignity to ask another man out on a date. That just didn't happen. And, to be honest, despite their history Bugs had grown to like the little shrimp – as a rival, and now possibly something else - he couldn't imagine his adventures in the west without him.
It might be kinda fun to travel with him. Sleeping under the stars, seeing all of the Old West, getting to know him better and finding out all the little things that got under the guy's skin. Having someone to hold close to him on cold nights didn't sound so bad either. And neither did the idea of being Sam's 'companion' (read 'boyfriend').
He'd always felt the weird urge to kiss Sam whenever they met, and now he had a chance to explore that feeling. How could he pass that up?
"I'd love to go with you…partner", Bugs decided, grabbing and shaking Sam's hand firmly enough to accidentally shake his whole body. Nevertheless, when Yosemite realized Bugs was serious that Texas-sized, shit-eating grin that Bugs was growing to like stretched across the cowpoke's face again and he reached into his gun belt. To Bug's amazement, he actually started firing off rounds into the air (and the ceiling) out of unabashed joy.
"Yee-haw!", he hollered, before he grabbed Bugs' arm. "Come on then, partner, what are we still waiting around this place for? It's time to hit the trails!", he smirked, pulling Bugs in the direction of the door and Bugs letting him do so.
When they got outside, Bugs found not only his own horse waiting for him (right where he left him), but Sam's pony as well. "But…but how did it?...It wasn't….", he thought, before shaking his head. "Just go with it. Just go with it", he reminded himself.
When Bugs looked back at his new partner / riding buddy, he found an amusing sight. Sam was, again, having trouble just getting one leg over the pony's back. "Need any help?", he offered.
Yosemite shook off his head. "Nah. Ah might be short, and ah might be queer, but ah still have my pride", he insisted. He walked off into the darkness for a moment and when he returned, he had his trusty ladder tucked underneath his shoulder.
Bugs couldn't stop himself from smirking when saw how he saddled up. There was no doubt about it. Good ole Sammy was back.
Once they were both on their respective rides, they were off, racing into the desert night in search of fun, adventure, and 'companionship', hoping they could turn what was currently simple lust and the odd bit of affection into something more personal and meaningful. Hoping they could experience 'La Amour'.
It was going to be hard work keeping his masked bandit out of trouble, but if Bugs knew one thing that could distract anyone from business, it was pleasure.
The End.
Author's Notes:
So this is a crack ship that I've been thinking about for a while. Considering this Bugs / Sam fic is the first of its kind, I'm kind of taking a risk by writing this one-shot, but that's what 2013 is for me, a year of risk-taking after playing it safe for my first two years on this site. I'm gonna be trying out a bunch of bold new ideas for fics this year, but I'm also going to be writing a lot of one-shots this year too. Most of them are slash fics on characters that no one pays a lot of attention to. I noticed that no one has written a slash fic about Yosemite Sam yet (even though the potential is there. He kisses Bugs Bunny in a lot of the shorts he's in, even if it's not by choice), so I decided to contribute the first one in hopes it would inspire at least one of you guys to write one of your own.
I rated this story M for male on male sex, along with some pretty strong language (Bugs and Sam abandon their western lingo about midway through). When I came up with the concept for this one-shot, I couldn't think of whether to go with the classic Looney Tunes characterization or the modern sitcom one. I eventually decided on the former, cause I figured the Old West would make for an interesting backdrop. That's about the gist of it. My apologies if Bugs and Sam came off as a bit out-of-character at times, I didn't have much to work with. In the classic cartoons Yosemite Sam is basically your stereotypical macho man, and Bugs is a relentless one-liner machine who makes Sam the butt of his jokes. Also, the word 'queer' isn't meant to be offensive here. During the 19th century it was a common word for homosexual acts since 'gay' still meant happy at the time.
This fic is dedicated to That Nerd Next Door. People, feel free to review. Whether they're positive or negative, I take all reviews at heart. Except for flames, because they're pointless wastes of time and energy.
