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Daniel had just returned to the Sunday Ranch. Eli walked into his cabin, right on schedule; once the sky had turned red, once dusk had begun to fall behind the hills. Because Daniel had been away, they’d missed their last meeting. But now they were here, and in mutual, routine silence, they began undressing.
It was always Daniel who went first because Eli liked to watch. Then he’d step forth, and let Daniel peel the waistcoat from his torso, snap the suspenders from his shoulders, and encircle his hips with the circumference of his hands before tackling the fastenings. The talking wouldn’t start until they fell into their rhythm, but this time, Eli couldn’t pass over the question on his mind.
Dirty fingers were grappling with the buttons of his long trousers in the dim light. He looked down at Daniel, naked from the waist down, sitting on the edge of his bed, clearly drunk, his mouth open in concentration. Eli’s slender hands rested on his shoulders, prompting him to pause for just a second.
“Where were you, Daniel?”
Quickly ignored, his pants were tugged down, under garments and all. He stepped out of them, and was pulled onto Daniel’s lap. As soon as contact was made, that sudden slap of skin on skin was all it took for Eli’s prick to twitch. Yet, even as lust started rushing through his veins, the question persisted.
“Daniel.” He said, head tilting, trying to find the gaze of the half-closed lids tracing over his pale chest. “Where were you this week?”
They eyes finally met him, dark and hooded by thick brows.
“Why don't you ask somebody else?” He spat in his hand, landing a thick glob onto his palm, smoothing it over his fingers. “What business could it be of yours, anyway, Eli?”
His name was pronounced the same way as Daniel’s habitual profanities, with the same inflection as ‘damn,’ or ‘hell.’ His heart hammered to hear it, and he blinked quickly to dispel the shock.
He’d missed the manhandling grasp of the hands that were forcing him into just the right position, just the right place for Daniel to gain some leverage. The familiarity of those fingers inside of him had almost been forgotten during his week of absence. When they pushed inside of him, they hit him with the same intensity of the very first time, stretching him without any sort of delay, or any sort of true pleasure either. He could only bite his lips to silence the squeals of pain he so desperately needed to release.
“What are you holding back, boy?” Daniel grumbled, noticing that reticence. He slipped in a third, knowing the cruelty of it was equal to pleasure for him. A voice cracking yelp echoed around the house. “That’s what. That’s what you were holding back.” He started to draw in and out, purposefully pulling on the rim of the muscle, feeling the flinching clench that Eli couldn’t help but react with. The pain he couldn’t help but relish in.
It was all part of it, all what they both expected to experience. And as it happened, Daniel was the only one truly holding himself back, resisting the use of his usual lines and words: the names without which, Eli couldn’t finish.
“Call me…” Eli whined, “Call- Call me… It.”
The tip of Daniel’s middle finger finally made a jab at his prostate. Eli’s fingers dug into his shoulder blades.
“What?” Daniel said. He drew them out faster. “What, Eli. What.”
“I want you to say it. It only works if- If you say it.”
“And what if your father called you that?” Eli lifted his head, his eyes snapping open to lock with Daniel. His cheeks were already flaming red, sweat beading on his forehead, waterlines welled with tears. “Abel Sunday, proud father of these hills, hm? Calling his son a sinning faggot?”
Pre-cum wept from the slit of Eli’s prick. His eye twitched, and at the next drag against his sweet spot, he cried, in voice and in tears. Daniel’s grimace said everything: he was ready to fuck him. The fingers pulled out, no easing or tact. Another splat of saliva met Daniel’s palm, this time to wet his cock. The sounds were obscene. The silence of their voices would’ve made it unbearable if it wasn’t the driving force behind their lust.
He was waiting until he was hard enough, his fingertips finding themselves on one of Eli’s pale thighs, brushing up and down the blonde hairs. He made a noise, something almost imperceptible, but something that communicated his desire all the same, something that said I’ve needed this. And I’ve needed you.
Eli didn’t expect it to be as gentle as it was. That, however, wasn’t saying much. It still began with a harsh thrust that jolted his body, that had him gasping for air. This time around, the careful embrace of Daniel’s arm found itself on the small of his back, coaxing him into a rhythm. His other hand rested on the back of his skull, a delicate, possessive hold.
Then his mouth, with its moustache and beard not yet trimmed, that smelled like alcohol and chewing tobacco, latched onto his neck. His teeth grazed the skin but didn’t bite. They barely even nipped. He mumbled something with wet lips.
“What?” Eli begged to know, “What, Daniel?”
“Am I a good man?”
Eli couldn’t answer before the next thrust, which lifted his body and spiked his voice with a high-pitched gasp. The hand behind his head interlaced with his hair. The one on his back clutched to his waist.
“Where did you go, Daniel?”
The question was asked in as deep of earnest as was possible, with as must control to his voice that he could muster. But Eli’s non-reply to his ask prompted the first bout of frustration, and Daniel tipped them both further onto the bed, cock still buried inside of him. He was over Eli, now, pushing his thighs to his chest, actually thrusting down and into him with a fervour he hadn’t yet found the energy for. He’d usually always be left with small bruises from the harsh grip of those fingertips, and being so used to it now, he expected nothing less. Just looking at the tension of his forearm, just feeling the pressure, was enough to make him wail.
“I know you and your sodomite ears heard me,” Daniel hissed. He thrusted harsher, dug the fingers in deeper, and Eli shrieked, his mouth quickly covered with Daniel’s hand, palm sticky and coated in half-dried spittle. He dipped down, rested his head beside Eli’s ear, entirely hunched over him. “Do you want me to hurt you, Eli? That it? You that much of a degenerate? That much of a whore?!”
Eli sobbed, loving every second. The anger in every word melted him, his tone of voice seeming real. Perhaps it was.
“Where- Where did you go?” He begged to know. “Daniel, please! A whole week! Where!”
At first, Daniel had found it hard to believe that Eli hadn’t just asked one of the workers where he’d headed. Even if he hadn’t advertised it to everyone, Eli’s curiosity now seemed out of place. And so did the hand that slipped around the nape of his neck, its soothing fingers creeping through his hair.
“You’re not good…” Daniel mumbled, “You’re not a good boy, you’re twisted, Eli. Wretched. Disgraceful. Your god… Your god shall not look kindly upon you or your desires… Will not look kindly on such tendencies, such impure thoughts.” Each point was punctuated with a thrust, sharp enough to knock the wind out of Eli’s lungs every time. “Such vile actions. You’re no good to him. You’re a nothing, you hear?! Just a stain on his design.”
And whether he lacked the energy to hit him, or couldn’t bear to make him suffer so much this time, Daniel didn’t lift a finger against him, save for the one stroking its knuckle on the underside of his prick. He squirmed beneath him, but was easily overpowered, easily corrected to stay still. He whined, open-mouthed with drool spilling down his cheek, dripping onto the blanket beneath his bare back.
“And you’re nothing to me, either.” Daniel said, “You think I need you. But you need me.”
“Daniel- Daniel, where—”
“I don’t need anyone. You could be anything. But what you are – all you are – is a hole.”
He felt Eli shudder beneath him, his chest shaking, his arms wrapping tightly around his back. He sobbed, vocally. He moaned, gutturally.
“You’re a good man, Daniel! You’re a good man!” He proclaimed, “I swear it! Because- Because—”
“Because why?” Daniel posed, “Because I give you what you want? Because I can pull on your prick when you need me to? Because I can call you the bad words your god tells you that you are? Because I might make you rich if you beg me hard enough?”
“Please, Daniel, please!”
The begging didn’t register as pleas for release until Daniel began to jerk him, where it became clear how hard he was, and how desperate he was to be used after he’d already been spent.
“You want to know?” Daniel squeezed his dick, thumb circling the wet, slicked head. “Then you show me how pathetic you are.”
“I am a sinner,” He wept, “I am a sinner, I am a sinner, I am a sinner, my Lord! I have sinned!” A heaving inhale jogged his breath, flinching through his nose and throat with balking jumps. “And you! You have- Have lead me to- To temptation. I am sorry Lord for that which I have buckled to! I have fallen on my knees!” The rhythm of Daniel’s hand got faster but his thrusts became slower. He lifted his head to look at Eli’s wet face; both at the tears flowing and the tears drying on his round cheeks. “I have failed you, my Lord!” He whimpered, “And all I beg for is your release!”
To that, he opened his eyes, staring back at Daniel, blinking through blurry eyes to communicate that that was all he had; all he could manage to say. And Daniel thrusted into him, stayed buried, pressing against his prostate, his hand still jerking.
“You’re going to come, aren’t you, Eli?” Eli gave him a resigned nod, a regretful, ashamed nod. As if he didn’t love it. “You’re going to come while I tell you," He paused, drawing out and slamming back in to prelude his point, “That I killed a man. And I buried him out in the cold soil, right on Bandy’s tract of land.” His hand picked up a speed, slicked and wet enough to make it impossible for Eli to hold on, “I fired a bullet into his cheek,”
He pressed a finger to the wet, puffy flesh on the right side of Eli’s face, denting the skin. He whined, trying to fight it. The harder he pressed, the tighter Eli’s eyes screwed shut. “And I watched the light leave his eyes.”
Eli screamed as the orgasm shook though his body, pulled out of him by the other hand working, and that constant press against his sweet spot. Every sensation lingered: the bruises forming, the tears pouring, the cock pressing inside of him, even after he’d spilled everything over his soft stomach.
“Do you think he’s with your god, Eli?” He whispered to him, “Do you think that he has been taken by your lord.” He was given a pitifully shallow nod. “I saw him go.” He told him, “And I can tell you where he went.” He took his finger away from Eli’s face. They looked at each other. “He went nowhere, Eli.”
Then Daniel pulled out of him and took his own cock in his hand. He gazed down at Eli’s limp body, the come glistening on his stomach, the prick softening on his thigh, the wet trails running down his face. Eli wet his lips and refused to look away from Daniel’s eyes.
“You are a sinner.” Eli murmured, knowing he’d be heard. “You are a sinner.” He repeated, the tone lament, “You are a true sinner, Daniel.”
Daniel shot his load over Eli’s body, grunting, half of it coating his hand. He panted though the recovery, through the immediate hit of the afterglow’s wave. He raised his arm and delivered a sharp smack to Eli’s face. He pinched his cheeks together, ejaculate shining on the skin with his tears.
“Then you must wash me, Eli.” His voice rumbled, like the fact was a threat. “You must bathe me in the Blood of Christ.”