Work Text:
Tim lies on his back, sipping beer in his bed, clad in grey sweats and a white undershirt. His hand rests under his waistband and his foot dangles off the edge, bouncing to the beat of the music playing from his second-hand stereo. He bought it for twenty bucks at a yard sale and it plays like it, but he owns it and there’s something pleasantly nostalgic about it for him. Tim’s comfortable. He revels in the bare feet, beer, and nothing on his mind.
Well, nothing until his brain analyzes yesterday’s interactions at work. One in particular. The team [minus Rachel, who was in the women’s room] gathered in the locker room, changing for a tactical mission. Used to the drill, Tim’s ready before most, gear on, ball cap backward, and working on the paperwork for his weapon. While Raylan, ever the slowest one, works at undoing the buttons of his crisp collared shirt, he talks to Art about strategy and plans. Art fiddles with his vest while he answers Raylan, and Tim will later blame his lax walls before going into sniper mode for the slip he’s about to commit. The rule is don’t look and if you see something, no, you didn’t.
Raylan shrugs his shirt off, and he twists to hang it in his locker. His muscles move with ease and Tim has a direct view of his freckled shoulders, the dusting of hair across his sternum and pecks, and the ‘v’ cut disappearing under his low-slung jeans. Raylan’s not one for modesty, so apparently, Tim’s never looked. His eyes are studying the tender bit of skin above Raylan’s belt buckle when hands push into the pockets, pulling the waistline down, and Tim lifts his eyes to the owner’s. Raylan gazes at Tim, watching him stare at himself. Neutrality rests on Raylan’s face and Tim doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or bad. What he knows is that Raylan let him look his fill before slipping on a soft cotton tee and buckling the vest. Their moment of tension doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Something I need to know about?” Art asks.
“Raylan’s holdin’ up the team,” Tim says. He leans against his locker and throws a smirk toward Raylan.
“And that’s new?” Art quips, heading toward the exit.
Raylan rolls his eyes with a huffed breath, and Tim pushes off the lockers, following Art. Tim’s brain continues to scratch at the memories of Raylan standing on display in front of Tim, unashamed. He’s still thinking about that moment now, alone in his bedroom. Tim knows what he looks like when he’s ‘pre-gaming’ — he knows the furrowed brow, clenched jaw, and steady hands. What did Raylan see? He can only guess. Did he see the truth of the stare, drenched in want and curiosity? He’s heard the rumors about Raylan; Tim’s spent enough time with his past flames to have picked up a few things. Plus, the abiding trust he has for the man, it’s barely a hop to having a crush.
Tim sighs and shifts on the bed, lifting his hip to yank the wrinkled sheet away to stop it from digging into his back. His cock takes notice of the friction. Between his bouts of stress and workaholic tendencies, his sex drive is usually down the drain, but apparently thinking about his smoking hot, off-limits coworker is doing it for him. Maybe it’s the loneliness or knowing Raylan’s well-endowed, but Tim lets himself think on it more. What it would be like to touch him, the warm skin, no doubt sensitive to the calluses on Tim’s hands. How he’d react to the touches, flushed and leaning into them until he asks for more.
Tim slips his hand into his pants but stops. Should he be doing this? Then shrugs, he’s going to hell anyway. Tim wiggles out of his sweats enough to get his dick out then strokes himself. Only half-mast, Tim takes it slow with his hand, sliding toward the base. His grip remains loose since he isn’t bothering with lube, yet, and he pulls to the top to run his thumb along the underside of his head and then swipes over the slit, gathering precum. His hand returns to his base again and he twists his wrist on the way upward. Tim hums to himself, enjoying the sensations even if he knows they’re not quite enough to get him off. He pauses his stimulation and roots around in his side table for lube. Pouring some in his palm, he goes back to feeling fucking good.
Now, he gets faster and grips harder. The wet sounds of his movement blend and disappear into the music coming from the stereo, but it still adds obscenity to it all. He imagines Raylan crouched on his bed, hands resting on his hips as he looks through his lashes at Tim. His tongue would glide along the shaft, teasing, much like those devious brown eyes do. He knows he’d be desperate for Raylan to take more and to feel the hot wetness of his mouth, but Raylan would drag it out. He’d lick again, taking his time, maybe using his hand too.
Tim circles his grip at the top over and over, allowing his hips to thrust forward since there’s no need to be polite for himself.
“Please, Raylan,” he mutters.
Tim’s sure he’d recognize the smile Raylan would use on him at that moment—something smirky but somehow soft and caring. Finally, Raylan would swallow him, only taking in the tip, but the sweet torture of it would get Tim’s blood going. It does in real life, his cock now hard to the point of aching. Raylan would take more and swallow him down like he was made to suck cock.
“Fuck, that’s so good,” Tim says.
Imaginary Raylan accepts the compliment and bobs his head as a thank you. His cheeks would hollow around Tim, keeping that tight suction even if the saliva gets everywhere. Tim wouldn’t care [hasn’t cared in the past], it feels too good. Raylan would keep going up and down, swallowing more of Tim as he goes until he can deep throat him. Tim thinks he’d thread his fingers through Raylan’s hair and encourage him to stay a few seconds.
Tim’s cock jumps in his hand, begging to cum as his balls draw toward his body. Warmth spreads through his skin and pleasure vibrates through his nerves. Precum drips from his cock and Tim continues jacking and his abs flex when he gets close. He takes a quick breath and backs away from the edge.
Raylan would only come up when he needed air and return to bobbing, sucking Tim’s sense out of his dick. Although he’d have enough of it to shower Raylan with the proper praise.
“You’re incredible. Got me feelin’ outta my mind. So fucking ready to cum on that pretty mouth,” Tim says.
Daydream Raylan waggles his tongue on Tim’s frenulum, then licks over his slit and swirls all along his head. He would use his hand during this, going fast and not giving Tim any breaks. Tim mimics this with his own hand.
“Suck me,” Tim says through heavy breaths, “yes, yes.”
He knows he’s close and he can’t wait to cum, so he keeps doing the thing that makes his whole body tingle. His hips thrust forward of their own accord and all his muscles flex. Tight, wet, and ready, Tim finally gets to cum, covering his hand and staining his shirt. He squeezes his head, watching the last of it drip onto his stomach. Absolutely spent, Tim star fishes on his bed until he shrugs out of his shirt and wipes up the rest of his mess, tucking himself back into his sweats.
He contemplates if the fantastic orgasim was worth thinking about his coworker that way. Guess he’ll find out when he looks him in the eye tomorrow.
Someone pounds at his door.
Tim stops the music and nabs his personal firearm from the dresser, then slinks to the door. He peaks into the security bubble, spotting the brim of a hat and masculine hands on jean-clad hips. Tim hisses. Fuck. This man’s timing; he swears. Tim undoes the security chain and switches the deadbolt locks, swinging the door open.
“You know where I live,” Tim says in lieu of a greeting and puts his gun aside.
“Hello to you too, Tim,” Raylan drawls.
Tim raises a brow and motions for him to get on with it.
Raylan shifts on his feet. “Can I come in?”
Tim steps aside and lets the cowboy in his apartment. There’s not much for Raylan to observe in his place, considering the sparse design and total lack of personality. Tim’s not much of a home-body, so his apartment reflects that.
“Nice place,” Raylan comments.
“Better Homes & Garden wanted to do a spread on it, but I turned them down,” Tim says. He waits for Raylan to quip back or get to the point, but instead he adjusts his hat and shifts his weight. So Tim continues instead, “so what brings you to my humble abode?”
“You’re not wearing a shirt and are those sweatpants?” Raylan asks, diverting attention.
Tim looks down at himself as if he’s just realizing his attire. “Were you under the impression that I only ever wear khakis and polos?
Raylan shrugs and smiles a little. “A bit.”
Tim shakes his head. “You got a point here?”
“Oh, um,” Raylan starts, but his eyes drag down from his face to his chest. They study the hair there and slide to his stomach, almost like a physical touch; Raylan settles his gaze where his sweatpants cinch into his skin. Tim supposes he deserves this considering what he did yesterday, but being on the receiving end is way more intense than he thought it’d be. Maybe it’s because Raylan is mesmerizing parts of Tim that few see, or perhaps it’s because of what he was doing a mere minutes ago.
“I’m sorry, uh, where was I?” Raylan says with his eyes back on Tim’s face, but they keep flicking down to his body.
“You were gonna tell me what the fuck you’re doing here.”
“Right,” he smiles, abashed, “There was an urgent work emergency.”
“And you didn’t think to call?” Tim responds.
Raylan blinks a few times, then says a little, “no.”
Tim tucks a hand under an elbow and gestures toward Raylan with his free hand. “So lemme gets this straight: something happened at work and instead of following any kind of protocol or hell just picking up the phone, you came to your off-duty coworker’s apartment unannounced.”
Raylan bites his lower lip, then releases it. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”
Tim laughs. “You’re a fucking mess.” He walks toward the kitchen, shaking his head. “You wanna a drink?”
“I’m working.”
Tim taps the digital clock on the microwave. “Not anymore.” It’s past Raylan’s shift, so now he’s on his own time. Tim doesn’t bother waiting for Raylan’s answer grabs a beer for him from the fridge. He twists off the tops and hands one to Raylan, who accepts it and takes a long drink. Tim settles in his living room, leaning back on the sofa and resting a foot on the coffee table. “Tell me about the work thing.”
Raylan follows him and sits on the other end of the couch. His thumb worries at the label of his beer as he starts the story. “I was workin’ the Anderson case and some names weren’t addin’ up, so I started checking records. You know how we thought the guy had two partners?”
“Sure,” Tim nods. Their investigative work turned up a couple of aliases, but they’d been having trouble tracking anyone.
“Well, it’s all the same guy. Two names, one dude.”
“Shiit. That’ll give ya a hard on,” Tim says. Raylan makes a face that Tim ignores and asks follow up instead, “Were you able to find ‘em?”
Raylan smiles. “Got an address.”
Tim feeds off his excitements. “Yeah!? What’d Art say?”
Raylan stills and picks at the beer label more. “I, uh, came straight here.”
“Ain’t that sweet,” Tim says, a bit stunned by the confession.
“I’m considerate by nature,” he says, hiding his crinkling, joking eyes with the brim of his hat.
Tim snorts, almost choking on his beer. “Yeah, and I’m a pleasant, outgoing person.”
They spend a moment chuckling over their dumb jokes until Raylan shifts on the sofa and faces Tim. “So tell me this,” he says, gesturing to the whole of Tim, “do you always walk around mostly naked here? Please tell me you aren’t a secret nudist.”
Tim shakes his head, smiling. “Not even a little. Ya caught me after I used my shirt to clean up,” he pauses, realizing he cannot say what he was thinking, “a mess.”
“A mess,” Raylan repeats, smelling a story.
“Yep. A mess.” Tim takes a long swallow.
“So you use the shirt off your back instead of a paper towel.”
“They were too far away.”
“Too far away,” Raylan repeats under his breath, incredulous. “And you run how many miles each morning?”
“Two or three,” Tim answers, even though he knows the point Raylan’s making.
Raylan huffs. “You’re a man of many mysteries, Tim Gutterson.”
“Says the guy with a cowboy persona.”
“Hey don’t bad talk the hat.”
Tim reaches over and snags his hat off his head and puts it on his own. “You mean this ole’ ratty thing?” He bounces off the sofa and does old line dances from his childhood across his living room, escaping Raylan’s reach. Tim finishes a turn and expects to see him wanting his hat back, but he finds an amused Raylan, watching him with curious eyes.
“Where’d you learn how to do that?”
“You ain’t the only one to grow up south of the Mason-Dixon Line. They made us learn all them dances in school,” Tim says, returning the hat. “Can’t believe I still remember’em.”
“It looks good on you,” Raylan says, gesturing with the hat.
“My cowboy hat days are long behind me.”
“I would have loved to see that.”
“It didn’t last long. I woulda done anything to impress Mr. Gaine’s boy.” Tim almost curses when he accidentally outs himself. Maybe he didn’t catch it.
“Boy?”
He caught it.
“His name was Ben. Had blue eyes the girls swooned over.” Tim tells him about his first crush, serving Raylan his vulnerability
“And one boy too.”
Tim nods, “and me.”
“So the cowboy hat didn’t work on him?” He asks.
Tim laughs. “Not really.”
“Works for me. Maybe you didn’t do it right.”
“Fuck you. I was adorable.”
Raylan smiles, eyes crinkling and dimples showing. “I bet.”
Fake heated, Tim continues, “And don’t act like being the hottest thing Harlan has ever seen doesn’t help. The hat, my ass.”
His smile drops into a smirk. “You think I’m hot?”
“No, yesterday I was starin’ at ya because I could divine your workout routine. Of course I think you’re hot, Raylan. Damn.”
Raylan scoots forward. “What were you thinking about earlier?”
“When?” Tim swallows, willing his cheeks not to flush.
“When you were,” he says, then uses air quotes, “making a mess.”
Tim narrows his eyes, caught in his lie with his breath suspended. His mind scrambles to come up with a way out of this, but finds nothing.
“Tell me,” Raylan says, low in his voice, “what could get you to make a mess like this?” He reaches toward Tim and swipes a thumb on his hip. His finger comes away with a bit of partially dried cum.
“Not what, who,” Tim says, willing Raylan to read between the lines.
“Hmm,” he hums. “Say his name.”
“Raylan…” Tim responds, about to tell him off, but lets the answer happen instead.
“I liked the way you looked at me yesterday. It was like touching a live wire. Never felt so wanted.”
“And I didn’t even need a cowboy hat.”
Raylan chuckles. “No, you didn’t.” He crooks a finger. “C’mere.”
Tim inches forward until their knees touch and he stares into Raylan’s eyes. Complete opposites of Ben’s, but they make his heart beat fast just the same. Raylan presses his palm to Tim’s cheek and the warm metal of his ring almost stings, but Tim would endure anything for Raylan to keep touching him. He’s warm and the tension between them builds and Tim licks his bottom lip out of anticipation. Raylan’s eyes follow the movement and they burn with a desire that Tim will never recover from. They inch closer, heads angling, waiting for the moment their lips touch, but the drumroll is good enough to savor. Tim digs his fingers into Raylan’s clothes, encouraging him to come closer and stay there. Raylan threads a hand through Tim’s hair and uses it to bring Tim to him.
Raylan kisses him. It’s light and knowing and pulls every ounce of oxygen from Tim’s lungs. Desperate for air, Tim dives back into Raylan’s mouth, and he wraps himself around him like he won’t survive without touching him. Their lips work in sync and devolve into open mouth kisses that Raylan’s tongue takes advantage of. Tim accepts him, eager to taste and memorize, but he gives Raylan the lead and follows where he goes.
Tim sinks further into the couch, wanting to have Raylan above him. Their kisses don’t stop as Raylan adjusts them so they can lie atop one another in the narrow space. Leg entwined and hips pressed against each other, they revel in the physical sensations of being so close. Raylan’s hands skim over Tim’s upper body, light and reverent, until he slips a few fingers underneath Tim’s waistband.
“You’re not wearing boxers,” Raylan says, raspy with a little growl to it.
Tim shrugs, acting cool on the outside. “Didn’t see the point.”
“Admit you like the dirtiness of it,” Raylan says, kissing Tim’s neck and nipping every few times.
Tim’s eyes close, turned on and beyond content. “Maybe.”
“You’re fuckin’ filthy, answering the door, all indecent, knowing I’d see you like this,” he says, pulling on the tie on the front of Tim’s sweats, undoing the knot. “I think you want me to take these off you. Give that prick what it needs.”
Tim’s hips follow Raylan’s hand, desperate for more contact. His dirty talk has Tim out of his mind, but he’s aware enough to get what he wants. “Yes, anything, please,” he says.
“Aren’t too spent from earlier?” he asks, teasing. Raylan kisses down Tim’s sternum, then licks a nipple, which causes Tim to bite his lip hard to keep from mewling.
“So ready,” Tim manages to say while Raylan laves each nipple with his tongue and teeth.
Tim watches Raylan use those stupid sexy hands to pull down his sweats and Tim helps him take them off by lifting his butt. Then, he’s naked. Raylan studies him, eyes dark and mouth puffy.
“Damn,” Raylan says, “I knew you’d be fine. You’re a fucking dream.”
Tim’s cheeks heat with the attention and he reaches for Raylan, wanting him to come back down to him. Raylan obliges and they return to making-out. His hand slides down the length of Tim’s body, stopping at his knee, then goes to his hip again. Raylan grinds into him and the soft denim rubs against Tim’s heated skin, getting a real moan from him.
“That feel good?” Raylan asks, doing it again.
Tim hums a yes and matches his thrusts. He can feel Raylan’s length hardening in his trousers and knows no one was lying about him. Tim’s eyelids flutter, getting into the grove of it and he dares to put his hands on Raylan’s ass, pulling him closer. Raylan grunts.
Tim tucks a hand into Raylan’s back pocket. “You still have all your clothes on.”
“Is that your way of asking me to get naked?” He asks with a small smile on his handsome face.
“I’m not asking,” Tim says, undoing his belt buckles and button.
He huffs a laugh. “Alright, then.” Raylan sits on his knees and shrugs off his shirt without bothering to unbutton it. He stands and drops his pants, now just as naked as Tim.
Sweet Jesus, Tim thinks, taking in Raylan’s body and Tim’s cock twitches in interest. Raylan hits him with a devilish grin, noticing his reaction. He settles back into his original position, and with their nakedness, it’s more intimate and delicious.
Raylan kisses him—a quick peck. “You let me see what you’re thinking. You don’t do that with everyone.”
Tim furrows his brow. “What’d’ya mean?”
“You ain’t open about your shit. You know that. Got this mean mug ninety percent of the time and don’t let anyone know what you’re feeling. But sometimes when it’s just us, you let me see it. See you.”
Tim thinks about that and supposes it’s true. Raylan just makes him feel at ease; it’s nothing complicated or even conscious. “You like knowing me.”
“Well, that’s a more direct way of sayin’ it,” Raylan says, hand on his face again.
“I like you, too,” Tim says. They smile, happy about being where they are, then Tim’s reminded of their naked status. “As much as I’m lovin’ this heart to heart, my cock was promised attention.”
Raylan laughs. He leans in and kisses a sensitive spot below Tim’s ear. “Tell me about what you were thinkin’ bout earlier.”
Tim flushes, not prepared to spill his fantasy; he was never supposed to know. Raylan touches his arms and chest, soft and easy, exploring.
“Is this you being shy?” Raylan asks, looking at him and waiting for an answer. There’s no judgment there, just curiosity and a pinch of amusement.
Tim squirms under his gaze. “You really wanna know?”
He nods.
“I was thinking about you,” Tim says, clearing his throat. “You were, uh, going down on me.”
Raylan crawls backward until he’s right below Tim’s navel. “Like this?” He asks, mouthing at the skin and putting little red teeth marks into it.
Out of breath, Tim has to calm himself before speaking again. “Just like that.”
“What’d I do next?”
“You licked me,” Tim says, “Being a fucking tease.”
Raylan grins. “Well, you got that right.” He takes him in hand and guides his prick toward his mouth. Raylan’s warm, wet tongue licks a wide stripe up Tim’s length.
Tim clutches at the sofa cushions. “Jesus Christ,” he pants. Raylan continues licking and teasing just like he did in Tim’s fantasy, and Tim’s sure that he must have died because there’s no way this could be real. Except it is. Raylan is about to suck his cock. Bursting with sexual frustration, Tim tries to ask for more. “Earlier, you were merciful and took me into your mouth.”
“Gettin’ clever now are we?” He smirks, but he opens his mouth and swallows Tim’s head.
Tim moans, too gone to care. “Fu —.” He doesn’t finish the curse, because Raylan takes more of him inside and all thoughts leave Tim. His blood surges into his veins and goes straight to his cock, which begs for more attention, despite having the hottest man Tim’s ever seen on it. Raylan bobs, swallowing more length with each downward push. Tim’s arms go above his head and his hands dig into the sofa fabric while his eyes close and jaw drops. “So good,” he murmurs. The corners of Raylan’s mouth upturn, and Tim listens to the sloppy sounds of Raylan taking him in and out of his mouth, which only causes his prick to get harder and needier.
Raylan pulls off him and Tim opens his eyes to see what’s up.
“You’re being polite,” he says, not looking pleased about it. “Get your hands in my hair. Touch me. Show me how I make you lose control.”
Tim does as he requests, threading his fingers into his hair. “You wanna see me undone and begging for it, don’t you?”
Raylan smiles, the southern gentleman one that breaks hearts. “I reckon that’d be quite the sight.”
Tim lifts his chin. “I don’t beg for just anyone.”
“Well, I plan on being one of the few names on that list,” Raylan says, jacking Tim while he talks, which is only a little distracting. “You’ve forgotten one thing, though.”
“What’s that?” He asks.
“Fantasy doesn’t compare to reality,” he responds. Raylan takes Tim by surprise and swallows him most of the way down, deep-throating him easily. A hand cups his balls and massages them in time with his sucks.
The grip in Raylan’s hair goes from barely there to at risk of pulling out hairs. Tim’s cock tries to twitch in Raylan’s mouth, wanting to cum. Tim moans, overcome with how fucking good Raylan is at this, and he arches his back to keep from lifting his hips.
Raylan pulls off him and looks at him through his lashes. “You ready yet?” He asks.
Tim refuses to give in this soon, so he shakes his head and gestures for him to get back to work. Raylan tongues his head and swirls around it-- the licks light but deliberate. He catches a bead of precum with the tip of his tongue, then swallows him further with all of his head in his mouth. He lowers and lowers, then lifts, hollowing his cheeks to keep the suction tight. How he’s keeping his teeth out of the way, Tim doesn’t know, and the tiny logical part of his brain that’s still active notes he should have Raylan teach him how to do that.
Tim’s hand runs gentle circles through Raylan’s hair, letting him know how good it is. Once he catches his breath enough to speak, he tells him so.
“You got me so worked up right now,” Tim says, sighing when Raylan takes him deeper. “Yes, more, so good.”
Raylan lets off, and grins. “Is that begging I hear?”
Tim laughs. “Not yet, but you’re gettin’ me real close. Fuckin’ desperate over here.”
Raylan eyes his cock. “I can tell.”
“You little shit,” Tim starts, but he’s silenced by Raylan going back to worshiping his dick. Tim relaxes into the movements and the hot wetness covering him. He watches Raylan suck him off, memorizing the details: his puffed lips, saliva down his chin, dampness in the corner of his eyes, the flush on his cheeks. Tim almost cums when he focuses on his length appearing and disappearing in his mouth. He calms his heart and even his breath, so he can hold on a little longer, but it won’t be much more time.
Raylan does something new with this tongue and it’s like a charge of energy through his body, lighting every nerve and causing his eyes to roll into his head.
“Do that again,” he pants. “I’m so close.”
Raylan pauses his ministrations to speak. “Tell me how much you need it.”
He’s too far gone to worry about being cross with him, so he dives into what Raylan wants to hear. “Please, I’m fucking aching for it. I need your mouth. It’s too good, so good.”
Raylan does the thing again and Tim cums so hard, he whites out. His chest heaves with each breath, and all of his muscles are tense yet relaxed, and he’s so lost in the pleasure, he hardly knows his surroundings. When he comes to, he finds Raylan looking at him, eyes blown with desire.
“Do you have any idea what you look like when you cum?” His voice rasps from taking him deep. “So damn hot, I about came with you.”
Tim blushes more. “Well, not just anyone can make me cum like that.”
Raylan smiles. “That’s quite the thank you in Tim-speak.”
“You should,” Tim says, sitting up and pushing Raylan back, “let me show you my gratitude.”
Raylan gets himself comfortable and puts himself on display for Tim’s taking. “If you insist,” he says, too happy with himself.
Tim straddles him and leans to kiss him and takes his time there before going down his neck. When he aligns their hips, a flash of surprise crosses Raylan’s face before he realizes his intention. Tim takes them both in hand, holding them tight enough for some friction, and he thrusts his hips. Cum and Raylan’s spit ease the way and they get a good rhythm going when Raylan meets his movements. Tim’s softening, but Raylan’s close so it’ll be enough, although if he hadn’t already cum twice today, he’s sure he could go again.
“Hmm,” Raylan hums, “You feel so good.”
Tim sucks an earlobe into his mouth, then gives Raylan sloppy kisses along his jaw and neck. “That’s right. I got you, cum for me.”
“Almost,” Raylan breathes, eyes closed, hands clutching Tim.
“What do you need?” Tim asks
“Keep talking,” Raylan says, using one of his hands to wrap around them too.
Tim rolls his eyes, thinking how predictable — of course Raylan likes to talk through fucking. “Next time, you’re fucking me, get you too busy for this nonsense.”
Raylan’s eyes snap open. “You want me to fuck you?”
“Since the day I saw ya,” Tim says with a soft smile, and kisses him. “Took one look at that stupid hat and thought I’d like to ride a cowboy.”
Raylan almost laughs, but Tim doesn’t give him the chance by twisting his hand at the top of them, causing him to moan instead.
“That’s what I like. I love having you panting, naked, and ready to cum beneath me. You’re so close,” Tim continues, rolling his hips for emphasis. “You know you wanna cum for me, Raylan.”
With a few more thrusts, Raylan goes over the edge, cum painting their hands and Raylan’s chest. Tim bends and licks up Ryan’s abdomen, getting most of his spend into his mouth. He lets Raylan see as he looks at him with heavy-lidded eyes, then swallows. Raylan groans.
“Dammit, Tim, I just came. Have mercy,” Raylan says.
Tim grins. “Never.” He snags his sweats off the floor and wipes them clean while Raylan lays back and enjoys his afterglow. “Told you that paper towels were too far away.”
Raylan chuckles. “Okay, I will yield to your point.”
Tim’s eyes widen. “Is this how to win an argument with you?”
“Don’t test it,” Raylan warns.
“Yeah, okay.” Tim shrugs, casual.
“Don’t you dare.”
Tim breaks into a small grin. Raylan rolls him off the sofa and lets Tim drop onto the ground, so he can cage him on the floor. Tim curses and works at breathing again.
“Don’t think I forgot your little confession that you’ve wanted me to fuck you for years,” Raylan says.
“But in this scenario, I’m still getting what I want.”
Raylan thinks for a moment. “I’ll tell Art you love doing walk-ins.” He gives him a devilish smile.
“You wouldn’t,” Tim says, glaring.
Raylan hums. “Probably not,” then pauses, “Art would see through it and make us both do them.”
They fall silent at the mention of work. Raylan starts first. “Do you think they’ll…” he trials off.
Tim nods. “They’ll know as soon as they see us, Rachel especially.”
“What do we do now?” Raylan asks, and Tim knows he’s not talking about this moment.
“Do what we always do,” Tim says. “Figure it out together.” He doesn’t have a better answer, and he knows this will get very complicated quick.
Raylan drops onto his elbows and kisses Tim slow and careful. Tim gets the message that his partner ain’t going anywhere; He’s staying right by his side.