Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Come on now, pretty boy, what’s wrong?” Hank crooned softly as he crouched on the well-pecked earth around his coop. The glossy brown rooster continued to squawk and claw the earth in frustration, green tail flicking in irritation. Hank couldn’t figure it out either. Last year he was fine! Last year, he’d mated seventeen hens and had a whole clutch of eggs, so why wasn’t it happening this year? It wasn’t his age. Gavin was only two years old. These were the best years of his life! Prime mating time! Hank had already taken him to the local vet, but Luther found nothing wrong with him. He was a little stressed, but that could be put down to being stuffed in the carrier and hauled into town. “You don’t like Teeny anymore? You guys had a flock of chicks last year!” Gavin flapped his wings again, fluttering a little way away to the wire fence running along his neighbour’s pen.

A guy named Richard Perkins owned the place next door, and had built his own coop that very year. It looked pretty fancy too, with some expensive black breed of chickens. The rooster, in particular, was truly striking. Shiny black feathers and skin, huge wings, and a good strong body. Even his caw was loud. Hank would know. The damned thing woke him up every morning fighting with Gavin. They cawed and croaked for three hours straight, flapping and clawing at the fence until they both tired out. Hank wasn’t sure if Richard was deaf or if he was already awake at that time, but he never seemed bothered when he finally appeared to feed his flock.

“Is that it? Is that big brute putting you off your game?” He’d never heard of cocks being competitive like that, but maybe the other rooster was making him feel inferior somehow. “Hey!” Hank stood up with a frown and rested his hands on his hips as Gavin shot off towards the fence, where the black rooster had appeared, ducking his head and bobbing his tail. The chickens seemed unconcerned at least, happy to peck the earth and scratch the ground looking for worms. Gavin joined the black rooster with a few ducks and bobs of his own before skittering off along the fence with a ruffle of his shiny green tail. The black cock followed, almost as if it were a game. They ran the entire length of the fence before turning and running back again, hopping and flapping all the while. Are they fighting or playing? Hank had never seen anything like it.

Well, maybe that wasn’t true. He’d seen Gavin running and chasing before, only it was with the hens. Last year, the glossy brown rooster had puffed up his chest, fluffed his comb, and strutted himself all around the pen. He’d chased the hens at any opportunity, birthing a whole brood of new chickens for him to sell. Gavin was good breeding stock, but if he wasn’t going to do his job...Maybe I’m being too hasty. It’s only halfway through the spring. Maybe his mojo’s running late this year...Doubt crept in as he watched how he was with the rooster next door. They were still at the fence, hooting softly and pecking beaks through the mesh.

“Hank.” Richard...He was used to that terse voice by now. Richard was younger and recently moved in from the city. Hank had no idea what business he was in before, but it wasn’t farming. If he had to guess, he’d say he bought the place on a whim, or maybe he’d inherited it. Either way, the moment he moved in, everything had changed, and not just with the chickens. He’d converted the farm next door into a breeding ground for horses. He’d shown interest in a few other curiosities, like the black chickens, but the bulk of his business was in race horses. Suits him. Hank smirked as the petite man entered his pen and walked up to the mesh fence. He was short, barely five foot four, made one hell of a jockey, too. Hank had seen him tearing around that fancy track he’d installed in the outer field. The tight slacks and knee-high boots suggested he’d been out earlier that day, not that Hank took notice.

“Richard.” Hank gave him a polite nod and stepped up to the fence, towering over him since he was almost a foot taller. The lack of height didn’t seem to bother Richard as he crossed his arms and joined him in watching the roosters. Hank could see the question before he even asked. “Don’t ask me. I’ve never seen it before, either.” The roosters were still there, flapping and posturing through the mesh, even clawing and jumping at it sometimes. Richard frowned, clearly as mystified as he was by the whole affair.

“Well, whatever it is, we have to get it out of them somehow! I didn’t buy these chickens just to have them sit here and do nothing.” A little harsh, but Hank could understand the sentiment. Farms and stables like theirs relied on the profits from selling stock, and though the chickens weren’t his primary income, they did take a chunk of money to feed and maintain. Cleaning the coop, buying the feed, veterinary services, insurance, repairing and maintaining the fences, fox-proofing the damned coop. It all added up.

“You have the eggs at least,” Hank added with a shrug, though those wouldn’t be as valuable as live chicks. Richard scoffed at the notion. The eggs were fine and dandy, but they didn’t even cover the cost of the feed. Maybe getting these chickens had been a mistake, but they were pretty valuable and sold for a good price. He also didn’t like admitting defeat. If he sold the chickens now, they’d sell at a loss.

“I don’t get it. Nines here is in his first year! He should be rearing to go with all these hens around!” He was rearing to go alright, but he only seemed to have eyes for the cock next door. Maybe that was the problem. He hadn’t looked it up, but maybe there was something distracting about having two roosters housed so close together. It didn’t bother the hens at least. They were still laying as usual, almost an egg a day from each. Unfortunately, none of them were fertilised. “Have you considered getting rid of the brown one?” Hank scoffed at that.

“Sell Gavin? Why would I do that? He had a good season last year! It’s your rooster that came along and threw everything out of whack! You get rid of yours!” Richard laughed out loud at the very idea. Sell Nines? He’d barely had him a few months, and he was prime breeding age! It would be a waste to sell such a fine specimen!

“Do you know how rare he is? He’s my money maker!” If not for the fence, Hank would have towered over Richard as he leaned in with his arms folded. Richard wasn’t one to be intimidated, something Hank sort of admired as he stepped up to the fence and craned his neck. His hazel eyes were intense, scorching with indignation. It was a look Hank wanted to beat right out of him. Metaphorically, of course...

“Not right now he isn’t!” Hank smirked, knowing he had him there. Richard’s skin flushed slightly at the look, annoyed by the apparent amusement in his glimmering blue eyes. It was hard not to be taken in by Hank’s rugged looks, despite his advanced years. He wasn’t sure exactly how old he was, but he was old enough to be sporting a scruffy silver beard and matching hair that reached his ears. He was the definition of a farmer and looked like he’d stepped out of a children’s storybook, right down to the straw hat and denim overalls.

“No, because your damned rooster won’t leave him alone!”

“Hey, that’s my line!” It seemed they weren’t going to see eye to eye on this. They both clenched their jaws, low growls rumbling in their throats as they glowered. They were soon interrupted by a series of loud barks, and Hank was more than a little amused to see Richard flinch at the sound. “Easy, Connor!” The lively collie continued to bark, wagging his tail and jumping up at the edge of Hank’s coop. He always got excited like that when tempers were flaring, eager to break the tension. In this case, he’d scared Richard half to death.

“Just...deal with it!” Why should I deal with it? Hank was still scowling as Richard turned on his heel and stalked off, giving him a rather generous view of his ass in those tight riding slacks. His responsibility or not, maybe Richard had a point. He wouldn’t get rid of Gavin just yet, but it wouldn’t hurt to move the coop into a new pen and see if some distance did the trick. Since it was spring and the sheep were out in the fields, there was plenty of room in the barn to house the chickens while he moved the coop to the other end of the yard. All he had to do was set up a new pen.

“Come on, boy. Let’s see what we have lying around.” He was pretty sure he still had a roll of mesh from the last time he’d fixed up the pen, and he usually had a few odd posts lying around. Connor barked and wagged his tail, eagerly taking the lead and racing off towards the barn. Hank whistled orders as he went, watching the sleek collie streaking this way and that as he changed direction, practicing his herding skills on invisible sheep. Over at the large farmhouse, he could see Sumo snoozing in the shade on the porch. While Connor was a working dog, Sumo was now a house dog. He’d been a working dog once, living out in the fields with the sheep, but he was old now, retired and living out his twilight years as a beloved pet.

Inside the barn, Hank rummaged around for spare posts and tossed them in the wheelbarrow with a hefty hammer. Alongside that went the mesh and pins of various sizes. Wheeling to the other side of the large farmhouse, he settled on a patch of grass at the edge of a field. He didn’t like to build there normally, thinking it was too close to the forest, an open invitation for foxes. Still, needs must...Maybe I can encourage Sixty to stick around here for a few nights. If the lumbering white dog left his scent all over the place, the foxes would probably be too scared to come near. He was a fearsome beast to behold, large enough to take on wolves on his own. The sheep were his priority, and he lived with them full time, scouring the fields and hunting in the forest for his dinner.

Hank got to work on the posts first, hammering them into the hard earth with powerful thrusts. The day was hot; the sun beaming down on his neck as he worked. It being so hot; it didn’t take long for his red chequered shirt to soak through and he paused with a huff to unclip the heavy denim straps of his overalls. Leaving the chest dangling at his waist, he pulled off his shirt and left it over the wooden fence. His brawny chest glistened as he took a break, the light breeze prickling the steely curls across his chest and belly. Further out in the field, he could see the distant white bobbles of wool where his sheep were grazing. Leaning on the fence, he enjoyed the peace, heaving a sigh as the breeze cooled his skin. He was strong, with muscles to match his height and a healthy layer of fat across his gut. His late wife had called him cuddly, with no idea where that extra weight came from. The bottles of beer he kept cooling in the garage probably had a lot to do with it, though he didn’t drink as much these days. He didn’t have the time or inclination, too busy with the farm now he was on his own.

The peace was shattered as a distant whinny sounded, a loud crack signalling the start of another test race. He turned his head with a small frown, squinting across the way where he knew Richard had set up his track. He couldn’t really see it from there, since it was about two fields over, but the pounding hooves and distant voices still carried. The only good thing about all the noise was that it probably scared off a few predators that may have ventured in for a free meal. Unfortunately, it also unsettled his sheep, though he was sure they were getting used to it.

Returning to the new pen, Hank spent the next few hours hammering posts and pinning mesh. The sun was already setting by the time he stopped for the day, and the pen still wasn’t ready. It wasn’t fully ready until the next day after hours of tugging and prodding, making sure all the edges were nailed down and the foxes couldn’t slip underneath. It was finally time. After an hour of running around grabbing his chickens and securing them in the barn, Hank set about moving the coop. It was too big to move in one go, but the panels easily slid apart so he could carry it across to the new pen, where he set it in the shade of a large sycamore tree.

Once the hens and Gavin were inside, Hank was pretty sure things would work out. They were all unsettled by the move at first, taking their time and getting used to the new grassy area. He put out plenty of seed and a small trough of water as an apology, which was accepted for the most part. Gavin ate and secured the area, making a circuit of his new territory with a puff of his chest. All seemed well as he cawed and crowed, throwing his head back and beating his glossy brown wings with a flick of his green tail. This was absolutely sure to work.

Chapter Text

It didn’t work. If anything, the move made things worse. For the first two days, Gavin had run around in circles, flapping and cawing as he looked for Nines. By the third day, he’d figured out where he was, only he couldn’t get to him. He hopped and flapped along the mesh fence, cawing mournfully. That Nines answered only seemed to make it worse. They both sounded miserable, crowing at all hours of the day. On day four, Gavin had attacked the fence so vigorously that he’d managed to scrape his beak on the mesh, leaving behind a noticeable scratch. By day five, he’d given up the fight and found a new spot, sitting on top of the coop where he had a clearer view of the old pen and Nines’ distant form. The black cock had a similar idea, sitting atop his own coop and flapping his wings as if waving.

Along with the distress came a notable drop in health. Where before Gavin had been happy to eat and preen his feathers, he was now lazy and lethargic. He barely pecked his seed, prompting Hank to take him to the vet again. Luther was patient as he looked him over, wincing where he’d started plucking his own feathers out. He was a sad-looking lump as he slumped on the table, not even kicking in protest as he usually did. Luther gave him a shot to perk him up a little, but upon hearing Hank’s story, there was really only one conclusion he could come to.

“Lovesick?” Richard snorted in disbelief at the news, having had similar problems with Nines. There was no way his rooster was lovesick! Not when he was spoiled and wanted for nothing. Fresh water, crisp hay, the finest seed, a sea of voluptuous hens. What more could a healthy rooster want? Apparently, another rooster. Hank shrugged as he lounged in Richard’s doorway, having dropped by to discuss the situation and come to some sort of agreement. He was actually a little out of his element, having never had a proper conversation with the man before.

“I’ve never heard of it either, but it’s the only explanation.” Richard gave another scoff, lips curling as he stepped inside and left the door open. Accepting the silent invitation, Hank followed him through the large wooden hall into a large country kitchen, which was far more orderly than his own. Everything had its proper place in various pots and boxes, china cups and plates neatly stacked in glass-fronted cabinets. Richard filled a heavy-looking kettle and set it on the Aga, a huge black gas oven that was always running. It made the kitchen feel quite stuffy in the spring and summer, but kept things warm in the winter.

“Well, what do you expect me to do about it?” Hank watched from the doorway as Richard grabbed two cups and spooned some leaves into a teapot. He was dressed down today, wearing a fresh set of jeans and a light linen shirt that was unbuttoned at the collar, giving him a glimpse of the dark hair on his chest. He was clean shaven that day and his dark hair was combed, a clear sign he hadn’t been out in the stables that morning. The discarded jacket and empty carrier suggested he may have been on a mission of his own.

“What if we opened up the coops? Let the two groups mix?” Richard looked utterly bewildered.

“Are you mad? These are breeding stock! I don’t want your rooster anywhere near my hens!” Hank gave him a withering look. They really didn’t have much of a choice. It wasn’t like the roosters would mate the hens as things were. Maybe mixing it up was what they needed.

“Fine! How about you send Nines over to my coop for a playdate?” Richard paused as the kettle whistled, slowly pouring out the water and setting it aside before resuming their current argument. Despite his hot temper, he didn’t hurry himself, patiently waiting for the leaves to brew. Hank watched as he grabbed a small sugar bowl and ceramic jug, which he topped off with milk to complete the service.

“And let Nines mate your hens?” He didn’t see how that was fair. Nines was expensive breeding stock! He shouldn’t be wasting his season on common hens. The quality of the rooster was of no concern to Hank. He’d be happy with chicks of any kind. It was a shame Richard was so stubborn with his penny pinching attitude.

“Alright, how about a separate pen just for those two? It might be just what they need to get it out their system.” He accepted the cup Richard gave him and added milk and sugar as he pushed it across, though Richard took his own tea black. Why am I not surprised? Perhaps that’s where he got his bitter attitude. The thought almost made him chortle. “It can’t hurt.” It wasn’t like the roosters were mating as things were. Though reluctant to encourage this madness, Richard agreed that he’d fork Nines over for the express purposes of getting it out of his system.

It was strange, being in Richard’s home. Everything was cool, dark wood, more like a hunting lodge than a cosy farmhouse. He hadn’t even added carpets, just cold wooden floors or hard stone tile. The long kitchen window looked out onto the yard with a fine view of the chicken coop, Hank’s yard, and the distant fields bordering the trees. Hank could see his own sheep, fluffy white clouds in a seat of green. In the field at the end of Richard’s yard, he could see a few horses trotting about with fine, glossy coats. Either Richard or his staff kept them well groomed. From the care he’d taken over the tea, Hank could believe it might be Richard himself doing the work. Even now he was quite meticulous, returning the sugar and storing the small jug in the fridge.

He could only imagine the heart attack he’d have upon seeing his own home. Dirt and fur from muddy boots and paws, a few days’ worth of cups and plates, crumby counters and random odds and ends. He didn’t consider his house to be filthy, just a little lived in. It was hard to keep on top of things with all the animals to tend to. The sheep could take care of themselves mostly, but there were the chickens and pigs, and even a couple of donkeys. The donkeys didn’t do much nowadays, but he did rent them out in the summer for beach rides. Kids loved them, and their parents sometimes bought his eggs.

“Guess we should get this over with,” Richard grumbled as he finished his tea. Since they didn’t want to mix the hens, it was agreed they’d use the old pen in Hank’s yard. Hank followed Richard out through the back door, waiting patiently as he slipped into a set of black boots. A wise choice if he didn’t want chicken shit all over his shoes. While Richard stepped into his shiny new pen, Hank hopped the fence and walked over to grab Gavin. It was almost like he knew what was coming as he saw him arrive, brown wings beating as he skittered up to meet him.

“Hey there, pretty boy. You want to come and see Nines?” Gavin squawked his loud agreement, suggesting that he very much did. Hank huffed fondly as he leaned down and trapped his wings, lifting him in his hands and watching his head bob excitedly. “Come on then, let’s go see your boyfriend.” It seemed odd to think of chickens and roosters in such terms, but if Gavin could get what he wanted and regain his mojo, who was he to judge? Stepping inside the abandoned pen, Hank chortled as he watched Richard stumbling around after Nines. He certainly wasn’t experienced with chickens. That much was painfully obvious as Nines cawed and opened his wings, sharp eyes issuing a challenge.

Setting Gavin down, Hank folded his arms and leaned on the mesh to watch as Richard reached for his rooster, only to receive a face full of beating feathers in return. Covering his face, Richard stumbled back as Nines leapt and flapped, sharp claws raking his clothed arms. If not for the linen of his shirt, those claws would have left quite the scratch. Nines crowed and pattered away, quickly noticing Gavin as he hooted and hopped at the mesh. Richard cursed quietly as he drew back, checking his sleeves for tears and scowling at the oblivious roosters.

“You’ve got to get in behind him and trap those wings,” Hank called, smirking at the glare Richard sent his way. With Gavin now distracting him, Richard had the perfect opportunity to sneak up behind the black rooster. Nines pecked and scraped the ground, bobbing his head and fluffing his comb as Gavin batted the mesh with his wings. Bending his knees and being as quiet as possible, Richard questioned his own sanity as he crept closer to snag his rooster. It seemed ludicrous he was going to all this trouble to send his prized rooster on a date with another rooster. “That’s the spirit!” If looks could kill, Hank was pretty sure he’d be dead as Richard glared up at him, having just made a grab for Nines and missed.

“If you’re so good at it, why don’t you grab him? This was your idea!” Hank guffawed, staying where he was and enjoying the show as Nines pecked at Richard’s booted feet and skittered off around the large coop. Even the hens seemed amused as they cooed and clucked. Richard sighed, clearly frustrated as he ran a hand through his fluffed hair.

“It’s your rooster. You have to get used to it if this is going to become a regular thing.”

“Regular thing my ass!” Hank shrugged. Depending on how things went, they might have to make it regular. In the best-case scenario, the roosters would get whatever hormones they had out of their systems and go back to mating the hens as they should. Slightly better would be if they continued these little trysts regularly while also mating the hens when separated. In the worst case, they’d refused to mate anything else, and one or both of them would have to get a new rooster. That probably wouldn’t go down well with Richard. Hell, I could see him turning Nines into nuggets out of spite. They certainly weren’t getting along that day. “Would you get your prissy little ass over here?” Hank snorted at Richard’s grumbles as he finally wrestled Nines into his arms.

“Not bad for a first try,” Hank praised as he finally got the black cock stuffed under one arm and wrestled his way to the door. It was clearly a struggle for him to keep hold of Nines as he walked. Black claws kicked and clawed the air, wings straining to break free as Richard approached the fence and stopped dead. Hank raised an eyebrow before remembering Connor, who was sitting at his feet, panting happily as he stared up at Richard. “Connor, away.” With a whistle, the fluffy collie zipped off across the yard, giving Hank time to step out and help the smaller man over the fence. If this becomes a regular thing, it might be an idea to put a gate between the pens.

Richard was a little shaky as he climbed up, resting his weight on the top rung of the fence with only one hand to steady himself. Seeing his chance, Nines tried to wrench his wings free, turning his head this way and that to get at Richard’s skin. If not for Hank’s muscular hands on his arms, Richard would have fallen as he struggled to keep hold of Nines. Stumbling against Hank’s chest, Richard cursed as a burning pain seared the back of his hand.

“Agh! Fucking-fuck-I ought to turn you into Sunday dinner!” Richard cursed as Hank hurried him into the pen and shut the door. Nines had finally managed to wrench one wing free, and wrestled his head around enough to dig his beak into Richard’s hand. Richard considered himself lucky he’d managed to hold on long enough to stumble into the pen before releasing him. Nines squawked indignantly, kicking up dirt as he flapped his way across the pen to Gavin. Richard paid them no mind as he straightened up and shook his bleeding hand, cursing quietly as Hank chuckled.

“You don’t mean that.” Richard was quite sure he did mean it at that particular moment. He hissed and cursed, only stopping as Hank gripped his wrist with a weathered hand and pulled him closer. His mouth suddenly felt very dry as those aged blue eyes dropped to examine the nasty gash. Nines had caught him right in the soft skin on the back of his hand, between his thumb and index finger. “Looks like he got you pretty good.” You wouldn’t think it to look at him, but Richard’s palms were pretty rough, probably from all the time he spend in the saddle. The back of his hands were much softer, untouched by the rough leather reins. It was almost subconscious as Hank circled a thumb across the soft skin, sending tingles up Richard’s arm.

“It’s just a scratch...” Hank huffed as Richard’s hazel eyes dropped. He didn’t pull away, quietly allowing Hank to prod and tease the bleeding skin. They both paused as the sound of gentle hooting and scraping claws caught their ears. Over by the fence, Nines and Gavin had started flapping and circling each other. They both scraped and pecked the earth, digging out whatever worms or seed they found and tossing it to each other. “What are they doing?” Richard asked with a frown, continuing to watch as Hank chortled.

“What? You’ve never seen chickens courting before? They’re flirting, proving they can provide.” Hank paused his examination to watch as they accepted the small gifts and flapped their wings. “The problem is, they’re both taking the rooster’s role.” He wasn’t sure how they’d expected things to go, but being roosters, they might need to fight it out to see who was stronger. If that’s the case, things might get ugly...Hank remained alert as Nines cawed and flapped his wings, opening wide and puffing out his shiny chest. Gavin danced similarly, ducking this way and that with a gentle caw of his own. Drawing up to his full height, Nines gave an even louder crow, swaying this way and that to show off his glossy feathers.

“What now?” Richard asked curiously as Gavin bobbed his head and spread his wings, slowly lowering himself to rest on the earth. Hank chuckled softly as Nines gave a flap of triumph and circled behind to jump on his back. Gavin cooed and flicked his shiny green feathers, lowering his head and raising his tail as Nines’ claws settled in place over his wings.

“Looks like Nines won the flirting match.” Despite how uncomfortable it looked, it seemed Nines was fairly gentle as he settled in place and plucked at Gavin’s neck feathers. Gavin followed the pull and lifted his head, accepted Nines’ beak as he groomed him. Moments later, the roosters parted. Nines hopped off, and Gavin pushed to his feet, flapping his wings and fluffing his feathers. Richard blinked in disbelief, looking at the roosters and back at Hank in question.

“Is that it?”

“That’s it.” His face said it all. All that trouble for that? Hank chuckled as Nines and Gavin finally relaxed and took to pecking the earth, happy to simply be near each other. Richard still couldn’t believe it. All that fuss and within a few moments, they were acting like nothing happened! It was then, as he turned to ask what they should do next, that he realised Hank was still holding his hand, weathered fingers gently teasing the torn skin. Hank also seemed to notice their predicament, blue eyes dropping to the cut once more. “This is pretty nasty...Come on up to the house and I’ll get you sorted.”

“I-it’ll be fine. I should probably get Nines back over in his pen and-” He winced as Hank tightened his grip and tugged at the bleeding skin, sharp eyes looking for any dirt in the wound.

“That can wait. Wouldn’t want this to get infected.” That’s true, but...Glancing at the mesh, Richard could already see that the lumbering hound was back. Bright brown eyes stared at him where the fluffy beast sat panting, patiently waiting for his master’s return. He got to his paws as he noticed Richard’s gaze, a gentle woof rumbling in his throat as his tail wagged. “Don’t worry, he’s harmless.” That was easy for him to say! It was his dog! Noting his tense muscles, Hank finally relented and told him to wait. If Richard wouldn’t come to the house, he’d just have to bring the med kit down to the pen.

Though he insisted he was fine, Richard agreed to wait and watched Hank leave the old pen. The moment he stepped out, the black and white hound was up, panting and barking as he followed him to the house. Richard sighed as they left, soon turning his attention to his ruined shirt. Blood had already stained the cuff, and a few droplets dotted the breast where he’d shaken his hand earlier. The amount of blood was a little concerning, but he doubted it was a problem. It was probably just a little deeper than a regular scrape. Hank didn’t seem too concerned either as he returned and had him sit by the mesh, a little away from where Connor sat.

Despite the gate being shut and sitting at a distance, it didn’t slip Hank’s notice that Richard’s sharp eyes barely left him for an instant. It was a good thing Sixty hadn’t hopped over to explore his fields. Richard would probably have a heart attack if he found himself alone with that great white beast. It was a good thing for Sixty, too. If he was on Richard’s land, he was free to deal with him as he pleased, and he knew Richard owned a gun. Probably many. Maybe Sixty understood that on some level. He was a smart dog. An excellent hunter, too. Hank had woken up to a deer carcass on his doorstep more than once where Sixty had returned to share his spoils.

Opening the white box, Hank started with a saline wash. He tipped the bottle and squeezed, squirting the open wound with a generous dose of solution and watching it rinse off the blood. Unfortunately, that blood was quickly replaced as the wound continued bleeding. Cursing under his breath, Hank dabbed the gash with some cotton so he could see inside. As far as he could tell, nothing was stuck in the cut, but he grabbed the disinfectant anyway. Even if he couldn’t see anything, Nines would have bacteria in his beak from all that pecking around in the dirt. Richard didn’t even seem to notice as Hank set his hand on his knee and dipped a long swab in the Betadine. Knowing it would sting like a bitch, Hank gripped Richard’s wrist to trap his hand in place before firmly brushing the swab along the wound.

“Agh-fuck! Fucking-” He cut off with a hiss, reflexively flinching and trying to pull away.

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you,” Hank teased in a low rumble as he continued stroking and teasing. He wouldn’t say it pleased him, but it would be a lie to say he didn’t get a little kick out of the little whine he heard stick in Richard’s throat as his fingers curled. Short nails dug into his knee through the thick denim, barely pinching the skin beneath. It was somewhat endearing, especially with how his nose scrunched up and his eyes squeezed shut. “Alright...Just a little more.” Richard almost regretting closing his eyes as Hank’s low voice rumbled in his ear. There was something almost sinful about his lulling tone as he teased his open wound. The knee beneath his hand was large, much bigger than his fisted hand as he gripped the denim.

Richard didn’t answer out loud, but he did open his dark eyes to level a sour glare at him. Hank chuckled softly, finally setting the swab aside and grabbing some gauze. Thin lips softened in relief as the wound was finally covered and the gauze was taped in place. The last thing to do was wrap. Richard sat patiently, holding his arm steady as Hank slowly wrapped his hand in a bandage, pulling it snug and taping it in place before sitting back to admire his handiwork. Richard could still feel those rough fingers on his skin as he finally drew back and looked at the neat wrapping.

“Thanks.” It would be rude not to say anything.

“No problem.” Better that it was taken care of than left to cause problems later. Richard licked his lips, unsure where to go from there. The decision was made for him as loud squawks sounded and they looked up to see Nines and Gavin kicking the air and clawing at each other. It looked much more violent than usual, beaks pecking as they tried to jab each other with their spurs.

“What in tarnation-Hey!” Richard was up in an instant, hurriedly getting between them and shooing Gavin away. Hank chuckled as he pushed to his feet and waited for Gavin to calm down a little. Since Nines was now behind Richard, and seemed set on staying there, it didn’t take long for Gavin to relax. Richard still looked confused as Hank leaned down and scooped Gavin beneath his arm in one fell swoop. It was criminal that he made it look so easy.

“Looks the date is over. Don’t worry, it happens sometimes with their territorial instincts. This could mean it’s out of their system, or it might just be a small spat. Only time will tell.” Richard nodded stiffly, staying where he was as Hank headed for the gate. “You grab Nines while I’m gone, and I’ll help you over the fence.” Richard almost flushed at the offer. It wasn’t like he needed help. It was only a fence. He wasn’t even that short. “Unless you think you can handle wrestling Nines, opening the gates, and climbing over all by yourself?” Well, when he put it like that, it did sound a lot more reasonable.

Richard didn’t know if it was a drop in energy or just feeling hungry and sated, but Nines was far easier to catch this time. He flapped and kicked a little, but it was nowhere near as bad as before. He didn’t even peck him as he stepped out and let Hank help him over the fence. It was a relief to see him strutting among the hens when he returned, tail flicking flirtatiously. Within the first few minutes, he seemed to have claimed his first hen. That little tryst with Gavin seemed to be just what he needed to get that nonsense out of his system and go back to what he was supposed to do. Maybe I won’t turn him into Sunday dinner after all.

Chapter Text

Richard worked his hips and gripped the saddle with his knees, feet snug in the stirrups as he leaned forward. His ass barely touched the seat as he rode, keeping his arms loose enough not to be pulled by the mare as her head ducked. She was a pretty good runner, as expected. She came from a long line of racehorses, and with a little more training, she might join them. He grinned at the thought, shouting an encouragement over the wind in his face as they tore around the track. Riding was exhilarating. There really was nothing quite like it. The snort of the horse, pounding hooves on dry earth, his own huffing breaths, the wind in his ears, slapping leather, and the clink of the reins.

Years of riding had given him the perfect poise, letting him bounce and rock in time with the mare’s galloping steps without being jostled out of the saddle. His thighs and calves would probably ache later where he was keeping himself balanced, knees barely hugging the leather. The mare’s head ducked as she galloped, glossy black mane billowing in the wind, chestnut coat damp with sweat from the workout, muscles quivering with each pounding step. Richard could feel sweat coating his own skin, both across his shoulders and on his brow where his helmet sat.

He hunkered lower, riding for all he was worth as they rounded the bend onto the home strip. His business partner was waiting with a stopwatch in hand, ready to capture the time and see if she made the cut. Richard urged her on, shouting over the wind and jostling the reins in encouragement, heart soaring as they flew down the country track. It was hard to believe it had taken him this long to get his own stables. Nothing was more freeing that being able to ride whenever he wanted and rearing horses every day. It was a change from racing, but he couldn’t keep that up forever. Better to retire at the top of his game than lapse into obscurity or risk permanent injury.

The moment they crossed the line, Richard eased the reins and gave a light tug. The mare kept galloping for a good ten feet before she slowed, gradually snorting and raising her head as she followed Richard’s guiding tug to turn about. Back at the line, his partner was grinning. That seemed like a good sign, and Richard was eager to know the numbers as he had the mare trot over. Excited grey eyes looked up at him, turning the watch so he could see. Richard let out a whooping laugh, punching the air and patting the mare’s sodden neck. Two minutes and fifty-eight seconds. It was her best time yet, and they’d broken the three-minute barrier.

“In a few weeks, we might shave off another ten seconds, right Allen?” Richard said as he looked down at the panting mare. Despite the race, she seemed in good spirits. Tired, but happy as her ears twitched back and forth. She had plenty of time to improve. Being barely a year and seven months, she wouldn’t be ready to start her career for at least another five months. By the time she was ready, they’d have a fleet of buyers lined up to see her. Her muscle mass was gradually increasing with her usual daily training regime, so it was entirely likely she’d be able to shave off a few more seconds before reaching her limit.

“With the rate she’s growing, she might shave off even more!” He wasn’t about to argue with Allen. He’d known him for years, and there was no one he’d rather partner with in this venture. Allen was an excellent businessman with a nose for the right horses while Richard knew what those horses needed to flourish and how to train and ride them. They made quite a team. Before retirement, Allen had worked for the stables where Richard’s horse lived, though it really wasn’t his horse. He’d ridden him every day for almost five years, but the stables owned the actual horse. It was a little sad, but he still wondered how he was doing from time to time. He must have retired by now, and was probably living out his last few viable years as a breeder before being handed off as a retired pet somewhere.

“I’ll take your word on that, but ten seconds would be plenty! More than enough to give her a good standing.” Allen nodded his agreement as he took the leading rein and held the mare steady as Richard hopped down. It was only once he was on the ground that the difference between them could be appreciated. Allen was a good five inches taller, and almost twice as wide from all the time he spent lugging bales and sacks around the stables and shovelling hay. Though Richard wasn’t shy about getting his hands dirty and did a lot of the grooming, it was actually better for their partnership that he didn’t do the heavy lifting. The smaller and lighter he remained, the easier he was to carry around the track.

“I’ll give her a good feed and let her loose in the field,” Allen said as he patted her neck. The mare scraped her hoof and ducked her head enthusiastically as if she understood. Perhaps she did. Either that, or she was relieved to get the weight off her back. Richard wasn’t heavy, but she’d certainly feel much lighter once they got her saddle off. “Are you up to another test run?” There were more horses waiting, but Richard’s health also needed to be considered. He was retired now, and doing too many runs would probably strain his joints. He was only in his early forties, but those issues would gradually get worse once they started cropping up.

“Maybe in an hour or so.” That would give Allen time to get the mare fed and watered while giving him enough time to walk off that last run. His legs were a little shaky, muscles twitching from overuse, and probably hunger as well, since he hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. It was still early, barely past eight thirty. He always woke up at around four and started the day with a cup of tea before heading out to walk the fields. There was always an eerie stillness at that time of the morning, too early for Nines to be up crowing, and even Hank’s windows were dark. Not that he looked. Luckily, the darkness of his windows also meant that his infernal mutt was locked away.

Richard’s fields were empty, so with the barest hint of grey peering over the horizon, he grabbed the barrow and a shovel, and started the monotonous task of clearing the fields. The manure wouldn’t go to waste. They had a whole heap of it to sell off to local farmers who needed it for crops, though many had their own animals to help there. With his acreage, Richard had considered growing a crop of some sort himself, but he was far better with animals than plants. As business and their reputation improved, they’d probably need that extra space for more horses anyway.

It barely took him an hour to fill the barrow, and then he was off to the stables to rouse the horses. By the time Allen arrived at seven, the horses were usually up, brushed, and out to pasture. That morning, they’d already agreed to do a few test runs. The mare was tacked up, led out to the track, and the warmup began. It was no good to just jump in at full speed. Like humans, horses needed to be worked up to a hefty workout. Richard had ridden a few light laps first, just walking and trotting before working up to a canter. The way that mare picked her hooves up was like a dream. She was built for racing. Not all of his horses were. There were a fair few jumpers in his ranks.

Richard let Allen head off to the stables while he headed to the farmhouse. By the time he got there, Nines’ morning caws were already finished. Before he got his own breakfast, it was only fair the chickens had theirs. He kept their feed stored in a hardy plastic container in the garage, something strong enough to deter most rodents. Filling a small bucket with grain, he headed out to his coop, and was summarily greeted by a chorus of enthusiastic clucks. The hens were hungry, having been busy with Nines for the past few days. That little tryst with Gavin was just the trick to kick-start mating season, it seemed. He’d checked and already found a whole clutch of fertilised eggs.

“Morning ladies!” Richard greeted, enjoying the flurry of black feathers around his feet as he stumbled his way towards the wooden trough. To give himself a little space, he threw some seed across the dried earth, giving the hens something else to peck at for a while. Once he’d filled the grain trough, he looked around for Nines, troubled to find him sulking by the mesh again. “Really? What’s gotten into you, hm?” he asked as he wandered over and rested his hands on his hips, following Nines’ ducking head to see Hank’s distant coop across the yard. He didn’t know all the chickens by name, but Gavin, the rooster, was clearly visible as he flapped at the fence.

Seeing Gavin hopping and flapping, Nines batted his wings and jumped at the mesh as well, though Richard couldn’t say if it was aggression or lust at this point. After seeing their scuffle at the end of their last visit, he wasn’t even sure it was a good idea to put them back together. He didn’t want to risk Nines being injured. I don’t want to get injured either! That cut was a nasty reminder, though the skin had knitted back together within the first day and he didn’t need a wrapped bandage anymore. The skin was currently covered by a long plaster to keep it clean, but he didn’t wear one around the house and it no longer hurt.

“Here, don’t let yourself go hungry at least,” Richard grumbled as he grabbed a handful of seed from the trough and returned to set it at Nines’ feet. Unfortunately, Nines wasn’t in the eating mood, though he at least didn’t peck at him this time. Maybe that was progress. Richard left the coop with a sigh, spying Hank across the yard as he headed off somewhere with that infernal mutt. Their course seemed to change as they saw him. With a loud whistle, Richard watched with a mixture of horror and apprehension as the large collie careened towards the fence. The sight of him leaping made him stumble backwards, bucket flying as he fell on his ass.

“Connor! Down, boy!” Connor was utterly unapologetic as he stood on his hind legs, tail wagging as he looked over the fence. Richard got up with a glare as Hank appeared and set a hand on Connor’s head, pushing him down. Connor went with a playful bark, making Richard visibly flinch as he pushed to his feet and brushed off his riding slacks. They were skintight, much like the quilted green top he wore. The morning was still cool, even though it was getting hotter. For the next run, he might leave the jacket and just wear a thin top instead. “Sorry about that. How’s the hand?” Hank asked as he folded his arms and leaned on the wooden fence. He was in his usual denim overalls with a green chequered shirt that day, clearly just heading out to check on his animals.

“Oh, it’s alright.” A foreign flutter filled his stomach at the memory of Hank’s touch and gruff voice. He could almost feel his skin prickling again. “And you? How are the chickens?” It was only polite to make a little conversation. They hadn’t talked over the past few days, missing each other at feeding time and generally being busy with their own work. From Hank’s expression, he could only guess they shared a similar story. He looked pleased, but also a little perplexed.

“Everything seemed to be going well, but since yesterday, Gavin’s been a little depressed.” Richard almost scoffed. A depressed chicken? Ridiculous! Despite that, he couldn’t help his chestnut gaze straying to Nines’ forlorn looking form. He was still in the same spot, scraping the earth and hooting miserably. “Seems you’re having a similar issue.” Richard gave a non-committal shrug as he grabbed his bucket. He really did need to get breakfast before heading out again, and Allen would expect him back soon.

“It’s not all bad. I’ve got a few fertilised eggs, at least.” It was something, though not what he’d hoped for. Hank perked up a little at that.

“Well, if he has another little tryst with Gavin, you might get a  few more.” Richard huffed at the thought. Although that was probably true, he didn’t have time to drop everything for these little playdates whenever Nines got frisky! He had a serious business to run. If he was going to be this much trouble, maybe he should sell him. Who’d buy a rooster that won’t mate though? Probably easier to turn him into Sunday dinner.

“I’ve got better things to do than go chicken chasing every two days!”

“Scared of getting pecked again, hm?” Richard glared at the insinuation, which only made Hank laugh more. “If it’s too much of a bother, I can wrangle him myself, if you’re alright with it?” Despite his chagrin, Richard knew a good deal when he heard one. Hank could do the hard work, Nines would get his end away, and he’d get his chicks. Everyone was happy, and he didn’t have to fork over even more money for a second rooster. He wasn’t about to let Hank know he was doing him a favour though.

“Fine! Do what you want! Just don’t disturb the hens too much.” They had important work to do, warming those eggs. With that agreed, Richard returned the bucket to the garage and headed into the house for breakfast. By the time he was in the kitchen, boots left neatly by the back door, Hank was a small figure in the distance, already heading across the first field towards the crowd of fluffy white dots. It was curious how he drew his attention these days. Before he got the chickens, he wasn’t sure he’d ever noticed him. He’d been busy setting up the track and buying in the first few horses, always starting early and being back in the house by mid-afternoon. A few weeks ago, he’d also had a lot to do as far as moving in and paperwork were concerned.

Startup had been slow and stressful, leaving him little time for frivolities like greeting neighbours. It was expensive, buying in all the things he needed and negotiating deals. He needed the lineage papers for his horses, vet and farrier visits, registrations and papers for any foals, and that wasn’t including stocking the stables and training grounds. There was also feed to buy and store, along with hay for bedding. There was a large barn near the stables that was perfect for storage, complete with a colony of stray cats that kept the mice away. Luckily, Allen had managed to find a local supplier with some top quality feed.

It was while talking to the feed supplier that he’d come up with the idea of breeding some chickens as a side project. Just a small one. He had ten hens and one rooster, hardly a battery farm. That wasn’t something he was interested in anyway. He wanted to make money, sure, but seeing the chickens out in the coop and hearing their happy clucks was sort of homely. Keeping them locked up in a barn, not counting the colder winter months, would be cruel. Despite his occasionally brash attitude and tireless work ethic, he wasn’t cruel.

Setting up the chicken coop was actually the first time he saw Hank. The older man had laughed, watching him puzzle over the instructions and tentatively hammer and wire everything together. Despite his mirth, he’d at least shared some advice about how to fox-proof the pen to stop predators getting under the mesh. It wasn’t guaranteed to work, and he needed to check periodically, but it had kept the pen secure so far. Much as he hated to admit it, Hank’s mangy mutts also helped in that regard. The scent of three large dogs was quite the deterrent for lone foxes.

He hadn’t expected to feel excited about getting chickens, but actually seeing them had lifted his spirits and made it all seem worthwhile. They truly were a curiosity. He’d seen chickens before, but not like these. It wasn’t just their feathers that were black, but their skin and organs as well. Nines, in particular, was quite striking. There was an almost oil slick quality to his feathers, giving them a greenish-blue tint in the light. He’d half expected their eggs to be black, but they weren’t. They were a creamy, almost pink colour.

The chickens had arrived a few short months ago, just in time for mating season. There wasn’t necessarily a season for chickens, but like most animals, spring was the most popular time for breeding. Since he’d never bred chickens before, it had taken him a while to notice Nines’ utter lack of interest in the hens. That had been troubling and, like Hank, he’d taken his rooster to the vet to get an answer. Luckily for him, the local vet, Luther, was experienced at working with farm animals. On his first visit, he’d suggested some vitamin supplements to perk him up a bit, but by his second visit, he was convinced it was somehow linked to Hank’s coop.

That was some weird shit to get pally with your neighbour about. Most people met their neighbours when moving in, or borrowing a cup of sugar, or during a housewarming party. Considering their careers, he might have believed they could have met for trade or animal breeding purposes, but gay chickens? It was unbelievable! They’d exchanged names and said a few polite greetings prior to the rooster issue, but the first real conversation they’d ever had was when Hank came over to talk about the play dates.

What happened after that still lingered in the back of his mind. His gruff laughter as he watched him fumble around after Nines. How his voice sounded when he shouted advice. The strength of his grip as he steadied his arm while he climbed over the fence. The concern in his gentle blue eyes when he noticed the bleeding gash on his hand. How big and rough his hands were as they gripped his wrist and explored his torn skin. His attention to detail as he examined the wound and the firmness of his touch as he clean it. Even the way he wrapped the bandage was noteworthy, pulling it snug and tight before taping it in place. The clucking of chickens brought him back to the present, and he shook the feeling off as he filled the kettle. It was a ridiculous thing to get worked up over. Allen was waiting, so he set about getting a light breakfast before returning to the stables.

Chapter Text

The more often Hank saw him, the more he noticed the little things. When Richard first moved in, he hadn’t thought much about his height, besides noticing he was a little on the short side. Even at a distance it had been obvious, but now he was seeing him more regularly, it drew his eye. A foot didn’t sound like much on paper, but seeing Richard up close really brought it home. The man barely reached his chest and with his tight clothes, he looked half as wide. It made him seem delicate, calling notice to his obvious bone structure. He wasn’t starving himself by any stretch, but the man lacked any extra fat besides the gentle curve of his ass.

Not that he spent an inordinate amount of time staring at said ass. He didn’t see him often enough for that. Even if he did, he wouldn’t spend his time ogling it, though he couldn’t deny it was a fine specimen. Hank wasn’t sure if he worked out or if it was just a by-product of all the riding, but his ass and thighs were good and strong. The way he bounced in the saddle was almost hypnotic as he trotted along, a steady up-down beat that could be counted to the second. Although he seemed lethargic on the ground, he was full of energy in the saddle. He’d often heard him whooping and yelling as he rode, leaning low over the horse’s back to pour on some extra speed. Sometimes, he wobbled so much Hank thought he might fall, but he never did.

In contrast to his control on horseback, he seemed almost clumsy on the ground. Carrying a bucket of feed seemed to throw him off balance, and he was forever tripping over his own hens as they skittered about his feet. He was also prone to stumbling whenever he heard Connor barking, and it would be a lie to say Hank didn’t encourage it a little. His wide eyes and the vulnerable look on his face always stirred a foreign feeling in Hank’s chest, something he hadn’t felt in years and was determined to ignore.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy. Having noticed all these things, his brain kept drawing attention to them. The sight of Richard wearing his riding slacks had become something of a treat. If he timed it right, he stepped out just as Richard was returning from the stables, flushed from a good ride with his hat and gloves in hand as he headed to the garage. He’d shortly return to his coop with the feed bucket, oblivious to his prying eyes as he watched him fumbling around and bending over to fill the trough. If he was lucky, Nines would be feeling energetic and issue a challenge, sending Richard stumbling backwards. It was always entertaining to watch. The man had no idea how to assert his dominance; not over Nines anyway.

There was something almost sinful about the way those riding slacks hugged his ass and thighs, and the sharp cut of the quilted jacket sitting rigid on his shoulders. The knee-high boots really topped off the look, the heels giving him an extra half an inch of height. His posture was excellent, giving him straight shoulders and an almost delicate curve to his spine. Hank didn’t even think he noticed how he held himself. He looked regal as he straightened his riding jacket and strode up to the house. There was a vague sway to his hips when he walked, automatically drawing Hank’s aged eyes lower. He’d think he was doing it on purpose, only he didn’t always know he was watching.

The feel of his skin still haunted him sometimes. The roughness of his palms where he gripped the reins, and the softness of his knuckles. His hands were small and delicate compared to his own, his fingers thinner and less worn. Where the veins on his own hands popped, Richard’s were hidden beneath the skin, only standing on those hotter or colder days, or when he’d just returned from a good workout. Hank still remembered what it felt like when he’d dug those short nails into his knee. It was barely a pinch. He could probably snap him like a twig.

From there, it didn’t really take much for his mind to wander to other areas. Being so much smaller, he’d probably weigh nothing at all if he picked him up. Those thighs would stretch wide over his hips, feet barely locking around his large waist. He could probably pin both wrists in one hand to watch him squirm and writhe beneath him. Being a jockey, he’d probably be an excellent rider, enthusiastically bouncing on his cock as his larger hands tanned that pretty little hide. From the whimpering sounds he’d made while treating his wound, he could well imagine the needy little squeals he might encourage.

Hank rolled onto his back, quietly cursing as he kicked the sheets lower. His room was pitch black, the world outside quiet as he lay sweating in the heat. It had been cool enough for sweats and a light sheet when he went to bed, but all that tossing and turning had worked him up. He was almost embarrassed to note he was solid in his pants, especially since he knew the cause. Thoughts of Richard’s ass in his hands were still fresh in his mind as he tugged the waistband lower and let his cock spring free.

A quiet groan slipped out as he palmed the rigid muscle, savouring the feeling of silken flesh against his palm and gathering the pearly droplets at the tip. His cock was bigger than average, almost nine inches, more than enough to split that pretty little ass wide open. He wasn’t even sure Richard could stand to take something so big, though he was pretty sure he swung that way. There was something about the way those dark eyes lingered, roving over his body and straying to his large hands that made Hank think he might be in with a shot.

In with a shot was probably the wrong phrase to use. He wasn’t naïve enough to think he was looking for something that would last, but a good hard fucking? Hank would be more than willing to provide that. Was Richard even into that sort of thing? Something about his prim and proper attitude made him think he was probably pretty vanilla in the bedroom. That might be even better. What would it be like to open him up and teach him how good it could be? To take that little prude and get him on his knees until he was gagging for it? To watch the nervous fear shatter into shameless lust and wanton need?

The thought made him croak in the darkness as he tightened his grip and bit his lip. How he got him there wasn’t important, but he could almost feel the silken strands of hair between his fingers as he closed his eyes. He hadn’t touched it, but it looked soft and glossy, and Richard seemed the type to like a little pulling. The Richard in his head did, anyway. His name slipped out as a needy little plea, lips parting to gorge himself. Hank took a shuddering breath as he tightened his hand and pumped, keeping a slow pace as he imagined how Richard’s smaller hand might feel. Barely able to close his fist around him, he’d give a tentative lick over the tip before sucking him down. Would he choke? He didn’t seem the deepthroating type, but fuck, he could teach him.

Laying him on the bed, he’d feed his cock in nice and slow, teasing his neck and tweaking his nipples as a little reward for every inch he took. Richard’s skin would be soft, but he knew he had a healthy growth of dark curls on his chest. The thought spurred him on, and he ran his fingers through his own soft fuzz, imagining Richard’s would be even softer. Unlike his own pecs, Richard’s would be firm from all that riding, and his abs lightly toned. Rocking his hips slowly, Hank imagined how wet and warm Richard’s throat would feel. The muscles would clench around him as he rocked, his gag reflex making him choke with each quick thrust.

Hank cursed under his breath, speeding up as he imagined what it would be like to bury his face in that ass. Had Richard ever done that before? Being in his forties, it was possible, but it was his fantasy, so why not make him a brimming virgin? His soft cheeks would flush in mortification as he flipped him over and dragged him to his knees, swatting the plump flesh to make him stay still. Fuck, the colour he could put in that ass. He’d leave handprints for days, and Richard would squeal and beg the whole time. By the time he finally parted those cheeks for his first taste, Richard would hiss at the lingering sting, brown eyes glistening as he looked over his shoulder. Nothing stirred him quite like making a grown man cry.

Pumping faster, Hank imagined how those teary eyes would widen as he finally pushed inside. He’d probably never been stretched like that before, lips parted in wonder and disbelief as Hank dragged him closer. Once fully sheathed, he’d hold him flush against his body, stroking his hips and stomach, teasing his nipples and kissing his shoulder as he adjusted. A needy whine would stick in Richard’s throat, body quivering at the filling sensation until he was ready, squirming on his cock as a sign to finally move. His passage would be impossibly tight at first, hugging his cock like a sheath, muscles twitching in protest. He’d go slow, murmuring little assurances that it would get better as Richard hissed and whined.

Pulling his cheeks wide, Hank would watch himself sliding in and out, and shove Richard’s face down on the mattress, where he’d claw the sheets in bliss. He’d get louder after that, openly begging for more. Hank moaned as he imagined how it would sound and what he’d say. Maybe he’d turn him over and slide in from the front, lifting him in his arms to fuck him on his feet. He was pretty light, so it would be no challenge to hold him up by the window and enjoy the fucked out look of bliss on his face as he dug those short nails in his shoulders. When he came, he wouldn’t say his nickname. Oh no. For something so intimate, he’d let him call him Henry. Fuck, it would sound so good rolling off his tongue in that needy little whine.

Hank spilled with a curse, shamelessly moaning and snapping his hips as he clung to the sound of his name on Richard’s lips and the feel of that warm passage clenching around his cock. Fuck, the sight of his load spilling out would be a sight to behold. Maybe he’d drop him on his knees again and pull his cheeks apart to watch, snapping a picture to relive it later. Richard would look aghast, worried about him sharing it. He wouldn’t, of course, but the worry in his eyes would fuel a host of future meetings.

Spent and breathing heavily, Hank slapped a hand over his face. This was getting ridiculous. He was a grown ass man! How many of these little fantasies was he going to indulge? They’d kept him up almost every night that week, ever since he’d fixed his damned hand! What was so special about him, really? He wasn’t the first guy he’d been around, and certainly not the best looking. Richard was pretty average, though by no means ugly. He looked to be in his early forties, so obviously losing that youthful glow and growing in a few stray wrinkles around the eyes. His hair was still brunette, but when his stubble grew in, on the rare days Hank saw it, there were grey hairs creeping in. There was nothing really out of the ordinary, though some might point out his nose. Hank sort of liked it. It brought something notable to his otherwise unremarkable features.

Fuck, give it a break already! If he was so plain and unremarkable, then why did he keep thinking about him? His libido was up like he was back in high school! He wasn’t sure he’d ever had it this bad. Is it some sort of mid-life crisis? Is this what happens when you go cold turkey for too long? There wasn’t much choice out there on the farm, and most of the ladies in town were married, too young, too old, or they’d been friends for years. He’d never looked at the men twice. Being farmers, they were mostly big and burly like him, so he’d never considered it.

Trying to shake it off, he climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom, trying not to feel too dirty as he cleaned himself up. If it was later, he’d probably shower, but it was still early. Upon returning to the bedroom, he threw the curtains open and leaned on the sill, looking through the open window. The grey of the distant morning was just creeping in on the horizon, the first rays barely visible beyond the far-off hills. Hank took a deep breath, enjoying the dewy morning smell of late spring. Everything was calm and still. Even the chickens were still sleeping.

The quiet of his thoughts was broken as a light clatter sounded somewhere below. It must have been Richard’s back door, because moments later he was off, walking through the yard towards the stables. That explained why he didn’t seem to be bothered by Nines’ crowing, and why he never saw him leave in the morning. His brow furrowed in disbelief as he looked at the clock and found it was barely four twenty. What the fuck is he doing up so early in the morning? Sure, he had a lot of horses and shit to tend to, but at four thirty in the morning? That seemed a little excessive.

He wasn’t dressed in his riding gear yet, just some jeans, boots, and a long-sleeved top to ease the morning chill. It wasn’t chilly to Hank, but Richard was a lot smaller and lacked his soft layer of fat. Curious, Hank watched as he disappeared around the corner and headed off to the stables. It was a little early to be mucking out the horses. He’d be surprised if they were even awake. With a shrug, Hank settled in place and returned to looking out over the fields, soft gaze settling on his fluffy white flock. He played a game with himself, trying to spot Sixty among the sheep, but it was pretty much impossible to tell from so far away.

Getting bored, he was about to return to bed when he heard the gentle rumble of a barrow being pushed along cement, the wheel squeaking softly as Richard appeared. He was heading into the rear field with a shovel, the old gate opening with a squeak. Hank remained in place and watched as Richard wheeled around and stopped on various patches to shovel what looked like dirt into the barrow. On reflection, it made more sense that he was cleaning up after the horses, clearing the field for them to enjoy without stepping in their own shit. It was the sort of dirty work Hank would have expected him to hand off to someone else. That he did it himself was actually sort of admirable.

That was another thing he could add to the list of useless shit he knew about Richard Perkins. A list that was growing rapidly, and it was troubling how much more he wanted to learn. There were pressing things he wanted to know. Is he single? He seemed to be, considering he lived alone, and he’d never seen anyone else up at the house. Does he date, or at least sleep with, men? From the look in his eyes sometimes, Hank was pretty sure he did. Was he in with a shot? Again, judging by his physical reactions, he was pretty sure he was. But what the fuck am I supposed to do with that? How did one broach the subject? They were neighbours! He didn’t want to make things weird, though his cock very much believed it was worth the risk.

Perhaps the best approach was the direct approach. No matter the answer, he was pretty sure the look on his face would be priceless. The direct approach was probably best utilised a little later, when he was sure he’d get a positive answer. Before that, he needed to gauge his interest, maybe make a few subtle moves. He scoffed at the thought. Making moves? Who did he think he was, Casanova? He had about as much game as a castrated ram, though at least he could still get it up. Getting it up was the least of his worries. Getting it up is the fucking problem! Maybe he should just ignore the problem and hope it went away. It might just be a fad. The novelty of having someone new around. With a small nod, Hank returned to bed. In a few weeks, he was sure this little infatuation would pass.

Chapter Text

The one thing Hank hadn’t expected to feel in all this nonsense was jealousy. It all started a few days later, when he went out to check on the sheep. It was early. Not Richard early, but still early for him. Nines had woken him up with that god awful squawking, and he’d dragged himself out of bed at the crack of dawn to shovel down some cereal and head out on his rounds. He’d thought perhaps he might return in time to cross paths with Richard as he came to feed the chickens. What he hadn’t expected was to meet another man. In his own field, no less!

He wasn’t too tall, but he was taller than Richard, and packing some obvious muscle beneath his loose shirt. If Hank had to guess, he’d say this was the guy who did the heavy lifting around the stables, and he was definitely from the stables. There wasn’t another farm around for a good few miles with all the fields backing onto each other, and Hank didn’t recognise him. He was pretty handsome though. Brunette hair, a strong brow, sharp grey eyes, and a mischievous smile; the type that was contagious. As he drew closer, he could hear that he had a good full laugh, too. The reason for that laughter became apparent as he noticed the ball of white fur rolling around in his lap.

“What the-Sixty!” It was too late to stop him. The great hound had already jumped, paws planting on the man’s chest to push him back onto the grass. The man went with a flail of legs, strong arms ruffling and scratching the whole time as Sixty wagged his tail and snuffled his shirt. His shirt, now muddied with grubby paw prints and stray bits of grass, was open to the third button, showing off his chiselled pecs and hinting at more muscle below. He was quite the specimen, which put Hank on edge right away. Despite his wariness, he did the decent thing and called Sixty off. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” That would usually be his first concern with the guard dog.

“Oh no, he’s fine! We’re good friends, aren’t we, boy?” Far from being cowed by Hank’s firm tone, Sixty was in his element, panting happily as his tail wagged back and forth. Connor, ever the loyal companion, remained at Hank’s side, tail low and cautious. It was rare to find strangers on their property, and it was usually Sixty who saw them off. It was his job to see them off! Seeing Sixty so excitable was making him curious, ears twitching as he tilted his head. Hank set a reassuring hand on Connor’s head. He doubted the man was dangerous, least of all to the sheep. The man seemed to remember himself, taking on a sheepish air as he finally peeled himself away from Sixty and got to his feet. “Sorry, I know I shouldn’t be in here, but...” Grey eyes strayed to Sixty as he trailed off and watched the large dog panting happily, still looking up at him with those big brown eyes.

“It’s fine...The name’s Hank.” He tried to reel in his own curiosity. It wouldn’t do to ask too many questions in one go. The first question he didn’t even have to ask. Seeing his hand extended, the man gave him a winning smile and accepted with a firm grip.

“David, but everyone calls me Allen or Al.” That was a bit of a leap. “When I was a marine, there were already two Davids in my regiment, so going by my surname made things easier.” Maybe his service explained why he was so good with Sixty. Sixty was a smart dog, more than wise enough to know when he’d been bested. Allen was strong and toned, and the sharpness of his eyes let you know he was in charge. Faced with such raw dominance, Sixty didn’t even try to challenge him. He was like a puppy in Allen’s skilled hands, greedily snuffling in for all the pets he could get.

“Marines to horses, that’s quite a leap.” Allen leaned on the fence, happily accepting Sixty’s enormous paws on his chest as he leapt up for more attention. Large hands laced in his fur, short nails scratching around his neck and jowls.

“Oh, my family has always been involved with horses. Going back to it was sort of expected.” His family was in the business. Did that mean Richard? Were they related somehow? Looking at his face, he couldn’t see any obvious resemblance. Allen’s brow was stronger, his facial structure wider, and his jaw more squared. His eyes were a sharp silver, where Richard’s were dark brown, and he was much stockier. The colour of their hair was similar, but that was about it.

“So, is this a family business?” Hank’s chest dropped somewhat as Allen laughed.

“No, this is a joint venture. When he retired, Richard decided he wanted to open up his own stables and try his hand at breeding. My parents can handle things well enough for now, so I figured...why not?” Why not what? Open a stable with his boyfriend? Support his partner? Branch out on his own? Help his friend? Hank wanted those answers, but asking outright was way too forward. “I love your dog. What breed is he?” Lamenting the change in subject, Hank huffed as he watched Sixty panting and licking at Allen’s hands and face.

“He’s a Great Pyrenees, natural guard dogs...Usually.” You wouldn’t think it to look at him now. The great, dozy beast was almost hugging Allen, tongue lolling out as he panted and pawed at his shoulders. Allen chuckled, turning his cheek to avoid the long, pink tongue. Connor perked up a little at that, tail twitching cautiously as he padded up to get a whiff of Allen’s jeans. Seeing Connor, Sixty hopped down with a woof, tail wagging as they touched noses and hunkered down to play. The sheep had moved a little way off, keeping a healthy distance from Connor lest he give chase. “He’s usually a lot more vicious.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Great Pyrenees were well known as guard dogs, and extremely protective of their livestock and families. Allen wouldn’t have dreamed of hopping the fence if Sixty had shown any sign of aggression. He’d actually been worried at first, since he was supposed to be working on the fence, replacing a few of the old planks. It wouldn’t be a good idea to strip the old wood off with an aggressive dog on the other side, so he’d introduced himself. After slowly crouching and cooing, Sixty had padded closer to assess the threat. Allen wasn’t sure why, but within a few minutes, the dog was putty in his hands. “I hope I didn’t throw off his game. I actually came out here to fix a few of these old planks.”

Now that he mentioned it, the fence did look a little weathered. That probably wasn’t surprising. It had been there for years, perhaps even a decade by now. It was never really an issue before. The previous owner had kept cows, and they’d shown little interest in leaving their field. The horses weren’t too interested either, but now that some of the planks were rotting, it was a good idea to get them replaced before it became an issue. There was no telling how Sixty would react if a horse ended up in his territory. He might consider it a free meal, and that could end up with all sorts of problems. Hank might have to pay the cost of the horse and loss of potential earnings, and Sixty could end up needing veterinary care if the horse got the upper hand. It was best all round if they avoided such issues and kept the fence maintained.

“No harm done. It’s probably safer for you that he’s friendly.” It would be a nightmare replacing the planks otherwise. He probably would have had to head over to the house and ask him to take Sixty in for a while or come out and supervise. “Let me give you a hand. These jobs are always faster with two.” That would also give him an opportunity to do a little more digging. Allen was predictably grateful for the offer, sharing his tools and having Hank hold the wood in place while he hammered the nails. Sixty and Connor were content to watch, alternating between playing and lying in the grass.

Hank took advantage of the leisurely activity to pry out more information, starting with how he met Richard. It was no surprise they’d met through horses. The group Richard raced for had kept their horses stabled with Allen’s family, and he’d been one of their regular grooms. They’d become close friends over the years, so when Richard retired and suggested they go into business, Allen had agreed. They met around thirteen years ago, when he first retired from the marines. At that point, Richard had already been an established jockey and made quite a name for himself. He didn’t win every race, but he usually ranked in the top five.

This venture was mostly Richard’s responsibility. The farmhouse was his home, and he owned seventy percent of the business. Allen was split between Richard’s stables and his parents’ business, driving back and forth almost daily to accommodate both. They were still pretty small, and Richard could handle most of the training and day-to-day work. Buying and selling was where Allen was most useful, and doing some of the heavier work around the stables. Over the next few months, as they expanded, they’d look at hiring a few extra stable hands, giving Allen more freedom to come and go without worrying about the physical labour. It wasn’t that he thought Richard was lazy, far from it. He just didn’t want to risk him injuring himself. As a retired jockey, his joints were a point of concern, especially his knees.

Since Allen was so friendly with Sixty, it made sense to ask about Richard’s obvious fear of dogs. Unfortunately, Allen couldn’t say where he’d picked that up, only that he’d had it for as long as he’d known him. Even at the stables, he’d been terrified of the yard dogs. They’d had to shut them in whenever he came over. That was one reason that Allen was the one out in the field fixing the fence. Richard had noticed the issue, but he also knew about that infernal mutt. Being used to dealing with big dogs, Allen had agreed to head out and see to the fence while Richard groomed and trained the horses as usual. They didn’t have any test runs scheduled that day, so he was probably training the jumpers. He wasn’t as experienced at show jumping, but he was good enough for training.

By the time they finished replacing the planks, Hank had managed to get himself invited over to tour the stables. Allen was a nice guy; much more sociable than Richard. Where Richard was often curt, Allen was easy going. It was no wonder he’d come on board to deal with negotiations. He was really quite charming. When they were done, they loaded the old planks into the barrow with the tools and headed back to the stables, leaving Connor and Sixty frolicking in the field. Connor knew the way home, so there was no need to supervise him.

The stables were tucked away behind the farmhouse, close to a large barn where Richard stored his hay, feed, and tools. Where the barn was quite old, the stables were brand new, many of the stalls already housing a healthy mare. There was even a stallion they’d rented for breeding purposes. A retired race horse with a fifteen percent win rate, which was pretty good. They’d already mated three of their mares and were eagerly waiting to see what happened. Another mare was already heavily pregnant, and likely to give birth within the next couple of months. The other five horses were still too young to begin their careers, but they had started training. One of the five was already out, likely in the jumping range with Richard. Two of the stalls were rented out on a full board basis, the owners trusting Richard to feed and water, groom, and exercise their beloved pets.

Hank wasn’t too knowledgeable when it came to horses, but they all looked like fine beasts. The stallion was a little rowdy and only liked to be handled by Allen or Richard, but the mares were friendly enough as they nosed his hand for pets and treats. Allen told him a little about them as they went down the line, sneaking them sugar cubes and swearing Hank to secrecy. The real treat came after they left the stables and looped around to the jumping range. He’d seen Richard ride at a distance, but seeing it up close was something else.

His brow furrowed in concentration as he calculated the height and timed the perfect jump. The horse he was riding, a speckled grey mare with a glossy black mane and tail, seemed to have some experience already. She was ready to jump each time he tapped her flanks and stood in the stirrups, remaining perfectly poised as she leapt the bars. His ass bounced in the saddle with that steady one-two beat he knew so well, back and shoulders poised as he steered the mare to the next fence. Hank and Allen approached quietly, remaining unobtrusive as they leaned on the railing to watch. Allen had said earlier this wasn’t Richard’s area of expertise, but you wouldn’t know it to look at him. He seemed quite at home as he spurred on his steed and jumped the bars.

Hank felt himself stir as memories of the night before returned. Watching his ass bounce in the saddle, he couldn’t help but recall how it had felt bouncing on his pelvis. The arch of his spine, smooth skin against his fingertips, strong thighs gripping his hips. The reins were gripped in his hands, fingers loosely pinching the leather. He was panting for breath, grumbling gentle encouragements as the mare cantered to the next jump. She barely cleared it, bringing a triumphant little smile to Richard’s lips. His dark eyes were full of life as he pulled her in a turn and noticed them at the railing.

“How’s the fence?” he called as he trotted over, gently patting the mare’s sweaty neck in reward as they stopped. The mare wasn’t the only one sweating. Richard’s brow was glistening along the brim of his hat, small droplets sliding down his neck in the heat. Wearing the quilted jacket had been a mistake, but earlier in the morning, when they first got out, it had been a little breezy. Hank’s presence didn’t slip his notice either as he offered a polite nod.

“All done, thanks to Hank.” Hank waved it off as Allen clapped his shoulder, insisting it was no trouble and he was just passing by. Hopping down, Richard led the mare along to the gate, giving a polite nod as Hank held it open. Considering he was barely as tall as the mare’s back, it was impressive that he could get up there by himself. The mare was docile, contentedly following as Richard led her along to the stables. “How are you feeling? Any knee or back pain?” Allen asked warily as they walked along, huffing softly as Richard elbowed him. It wasn’t a surprising question. His joints usually flared up more with jumping than racing.

“You worry too much.” It was a somewhat withering response that didn’t actually answer the question. The prying look Allen gave him said as much, too. “I feel fine!” Allen seemed less than convinced, which set Hank on edge. It was like he knew something he didn’t, which was more than likely considering their long-term partnership. “You’re acting like I always get a backache after riding.”

“No, but I know jumping takes a greater toll.” Richard wasn’t wholly convinced of that. It was true his knees and back were more likely to ache after jumping, but that could well be down to his own lack of skill than it being worse for his body. Put him on a track and he’d fly, but jumping was a little harder. It wasn’t unheard of for him to take a fall during jumps, not that he’d tell anyone or make a big deal out of it.

“Well, I feel fine.” Allen seemed a little more reassured by that. He could tell when he was feeling it. There’d be a telling limp in his step or a slight hobble as he bent over to save his back. Today, he was walking upright with no sign of discomfort. He even smiled as the spotted mare nipped his sleeve and nosed his shoulder for attention as they walked.

“Glad to hear it. I’ll be heading back for the day. Do you want me to bring anything tomorrow?” Hank watched almost suspiciously, quietly trying to work out if that offer meant anything. Richard certainly seemed to soften as he looked at him, fingers gently tracing the leather reins. They stopped in the open yard outside the stables, where Allen’s black jeep was parked near the barn. It was a good choice, able to handle the dirt roads around the farm.

“I could use another pint of milk, and maybe some lemons.” He was shopping for him? Did that mean they were a thing? Friends could pick up groceries, especially when it was just a few essentials. Allen pursed his lips, grey eyes sharpening as he looked Richard up and down. As usual, he looked like a stick. Richard paid him no mind, too busy stroking the mare’s brow and nose with gentle clicking sounds.

“Anything else? Bread? Doughnuts? Apples? Bananas?” Allen was certainly a mother hen when it came to Richard’s diet, and from the withering look he got in return, it seemed this was a regular discussion. Hank couldn’t blame him for worrying. Richard was a little on the thin side. It was almost as if the mare understood something of their conversation as she snorted and tugged on the reins, nudging Richard’s shoulder with her nose.

“I suppose some apples wouldn’t hurt.” If he didn’t eat them in time, he could give them to the horses, and it appeased Allen if he accepted. With a murmur of agreement, Allen clapped a hand on Richard’s arm and shook Hank’s hand again.

“It was nice meeting you. See you tomorrow, Richie!” Richie? Hank’s eyes thinned at that. Cutesy nicknames? That didn’t bode well. Richard waved him off before turning his attention to Hank as if he’d forgotten he was there, and Hank found himself somewhat on the back foot as well. Allen had invited him to look around, but did Richard mind? He seemed to be at a similar loss for words. Hank watched as he licked his lips, dark eyes straying to the impatient mare as she bumped his chest again.

“If you don’t get her fed, she’ll try to eat you,” Hank teased as he stroked her flank. It was almost like the mare understood as she nipped the quilted fabric of Richard’s jacket in agreement. Richard was a lot softer when dealing with horses and didn’t even seem to notice he was smiling as he stroked her neck.

“You’re probably not wro-ah! Uhm...” Richard fell silent as the mare butted his chest and sent him stumbling backwards. He stopped as Hank’s arm slid across his shoulders to steady him. Hank was a lot bigger than he seemed. He knew he was big, but actually being flush against his burly body and feeling the strength of the arm across his shoulders really brought it home. Hank licked his lips nervously as he eased him upright, letting his large hand linger on his delicate shoulder blades. Richard didn’t pull away or shrug him off. Maybe that was a sign. “Guess she’s more impatient than I thought...See you at the chickens later?” Was that a hint of hope in his tone?

“Sure, I’ll probably be around.” He’d definitely be around.

Chapter Text

Hank tried not to be too eager when he noticed Richard out near the coop. He wouldn’t want him to get the idea that he’d been waiting for him, even if it was true. After leaving him up at the stables, Hank had returned to finish his morning rounds with Connor. The sheep were settled, safe and content under Sixty’s watchful eye, the pigs were fed and mucked, the donkeys were out to pasture, and he’d even checked on the eggs in his own coop. Tina and the other hens were in the coop warming their eggs, eagerly waiting for them to hatch. A few were still laying even now, adding more fertile eggs to the clutch. Gavin was antsy as ever, skulking and hopping along the fence, looking for Nines. He’d run up to greet Hank, clawing the ground hopefully as he entered, but was ultimately disappointed when he left after topping up the feed. That was all part of the plan.

After returning to the house, Hank tidied up a little, keeping a constant eye out through the front window. It felt like it took a long time, and maybe it did. Richard probably had his share of work to do around the stables, feeding and grooming the mare before turning her loose to graze with the others. Seeing him return, Hank waited around and watched as he headed into the house. He changed out of his riding gear, swapping the tight pants for worn jeans and the quilted jacket for a loose white top. The outfit didn’t hug his figure as well, but that just drew Hank’s eye more. It would be so easy to just slide a hand up the back of that shirt and trace the pale skin beneath, or steal a glance at his pecs along the loose neckline.

Since he didn’t want to seem too eager, Hank waited until Richard had already entered the coop before leaving the house. Sumo barely raised his head as he left, content to stay on the cool kitchen tiles. Connor, on the other hand, bounded out on his heels, as always. Dark eyes looked up curiously as he made his way across the yard, and it didn’t take him long to spot Richard in the coop. Hank huffed fondly as Connor shot off across the yard, panting and barking in greeting as he jumped at the fence. His ears drooped slightly as Richard balked, the bucket almost slipping as he flinched and turned to face him. As ever, his eyes were filled with fear until he noticed Hank not too far behind.

“Connor! Down, boy.” Connor followed the guiding hand on his head and returned to all fours, tail wagging as he turned in a circle and sat. “You have good timing. I was just about to bring Gavin over,” Hank said, keeping a placating hand on the top of Connor’s head. It wasn’t exactly a lie. He’d planned to give him a playdate with Nines. He’d just been waiting for Richard to arrive first. It was almost like Nines heard him as he flapped and hopped at the mesh between them, crowing mournfully. Richard eyed him with more than a hint of apprehension. He wasn’t scared of him, but picking him up and handling him never seemed to end well.

“Uh...Sure, I guess that wouldn’t hurt.” Nines had pretty much done his job at this point. The hens had laid and were currently nursing their eggs. With the hens spending more time inside the coop, Nines had more time to dwell on Gavin as he crowed at the mesh and pecked the ground. He hesitated to say he looked more depressed than usual, but there was a definite droop in his tail and a drag in his scraping feet. Hank chuckled softly as he signalled Connor to zip across the yard.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you wrangle Nines when I get back.” Richard could do it himself. It was just a little more challenging for him. Unlike Hank, he’d only been working with chickens for a few short months. Hank probably had years of chicken farming under his belt. Considering his experience, it was really no surprise when he returned a few minutes later with Gavin securely tucked under his arm. The scruffy brown rooster didn’t even put up a fight, happily cooing and bobbing his head until Hank placed him on the ground.

“How do you do that? He doesn’t even kick!” Gavin’s feet were kept tucked against his chest until he was set down, and even then he didn’t flap his wings until Hank’s hands were clear. It was almost like he’d been trained, but Richard had never heard of anyone training chickens. Seeing Nines, Gavin skipped his way to the mesh and bobbed his head, clucking and cooing as he fluffed and ruffled his feathers.

“There’s not really a trick to it, just practice. The more you handle them, the more relaxed you’ll be, and the more relaxed they’ll be. Chickens are like most animals; they can tell when you’re nervous. If you’re going to handle them, you have to do it with confidence.” Apparently, confidence was in short supply. Not that Hank could blame him after last time. “We could probably work on your technique, too.” We? Something stirred in the pit of Richard’s stomach as Hank climbed over the fence and entered his pen. It wasn’t exactly small, but it certainly felt a lot tighter with both of them standing in it. His cheeks felt a little hotter as Hank took the empty bucket and set it aside. “Can’t do anything holding onto that.”

Hank couldn’t believe his luck as Richard allowed the bucket to be tugged from his grasp, something unspoken passing between them as their fingers brushed. Putting the bucket down, Hank stepped behind him, noting the stiffness in his shoulders as their bodies touched. Richard didn’t step away or look over his shoulder. That was promising. There was still a little space between them, but Hank soon solved that problem as he sidled closer and rested his hands on the smaller man’s hips. He swore he heard a little intake of breath as he leaned over his shoulder.

“The key to chickens, as with anything, is confidence.” Richard swallowed, heart thudding as Hank’s gruff voice rumbled in his ear, warm breath coiling around his lobe. He stiffened a little as Hank’s belly settled against his back and burly hands squeezed his hips. “If you don’t handle him with confidence, he’ll get away from you...You need to grab him with a firm hand.” Are we still talking about chickens? Richard certainly felt hot under the collar as Hank’s hands moved to grip his elbows and hold them against his sides. “First, you need to make sure you have him secure. Make sure his wings are nice and snug. You don’t want to hurt him.” Bird wings were delicate. He definitely wouldn’t want to cause a lasting injury.

“And how do I do that?” His mouth felt impossibly dry as he asked, barely daring to glance at Hank as he leaned in. Rough bristles tickled his ear, making him shiver as Hank’s fingers teased circles on his elbows.

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you.” Richard swallowed hard, nodding for him to continue. “Once you have those wings good and tight, you need to lift. Keep him close to your body. It’s easier to control him that way.” Richard almost stumbled as Hank pulled him flush against his chest and slowly moved to slip an arm around his shoulders, keeping his arms snug at his sides. “The tricky part is getting him under your arm. You don’t want to give him room to get those wings free. It’s probably best to support his chest with one hand, then tuck him under.” A firm hand touched his pecs, settling right in the middle of his chest. “With a little practice, you should be able to scoop his feet up, too. As long as you’re confident, Nines will be comfortable.” It was hard to focus as Hank’s thumb rubbed circles on his upper arm, making his cock twitch with interest.

“Will you show me?” Richard almost balked at how dry and scratchy his voice sounded. Hank’s lips curled as he drew back, almost like he knew what was happening. Richard swore there was heat in those soft blue eyes as he turned his head, sending prickles across the back of his neck.

“Sure, I’ll show you.” He swore Hank leaned in as he spoke, but it was probably his imagination as he stepped away a moment later. It was a good thing he was wearing looser pants than usual as Hank marched over to where Nines was pecking at the fence. He made it look so easy as he crouched and snagged the rooster in one fell swoop, picking him up as easily as he had Gavin. Nines barely even squawked as Hank tucked him under his arm, head bobbing contentedly as he was carried over to Richard.

“You always make it look so easy,” Richard complained as he ran a finger over Nines’ comb, almost getting pecked for his trouble. It wasn’t that Nines disliked him, but he didn’t seem to be overly fond of him, either.

“That’s because it is. Like I said, approach it with confidence and you’ll be fine.” Easy for you to say...He’d already been pecked once, and had the scab to prove it. Bending down, Hank placed Nines on his feet and watched him skitter off back to Gavin. Once his back was turned, Hank tugged Richard a little closer and gently nudged him on his way. Richard followed the urging with a sigh and slowly crept up behind the black rooster. He wasn’t sure if Nines noticed him or not as he clucked and ducked his head at Gavin, but he made no move to stop him as he slipped in behind. “That’s good. Now bend over.” Reaching out, Richard did as asked, stopping as a gentle chuckle sounded behind him. “Not like that! You’ve got to bend your knees. It’s good for balance.”

Richard froze, heart leaping in his throat as an aged hand settled on his hip and another pressed down on his back, guiding him. He swore his cheeks must have darkened three shades as Hank’s pelvis nudged his ass. Licking his lips, Richard tried to keep the focus on his current task. Nines raised his head, making Hank pull him back until his ass was flush against him. He grumbled something about waiting for the right angle, but it was hard to focus when he could feel his cock filling out. Fuck, what if Hank noticed? That would be embarrassing.

“Alright, go!” Hank was a little reluctant to let him go. It felt pretty good having Richard’s ass resting on his thighs and he was honestly surprised he’d let him go that far. That he’d let him get in so close had to be a good sign, right? The flush in his cheeks was also quite promising. Following his former advice, Richard bent his knees and made a grab for Nines. By the way Nines hopped and flapped, it seemed he’d grabbed a little too hard and fast. The black rooster seemed indignant as he crowed and hopped away, feathers fluffing in agitation. “Not bad, but be a touch softer...” Richard stumbled as firm hands grabbed his arms and dragged him back against a burly chest.

“Agh! What are you-”

“Uncomfortable, isn’t it?” Hank’s fingers had an almost bruising grip on his upper arms as a large thigh slipped between his legs to support his ass and stop him from falling. “He’s a lot smaller than you, and easily hurt.” Richard nodded stiffly, fighting the urge to grind as Hank’s knee rocked. Helping him get his balance, Hank’s hands softened. “You want to slide in nice and slow, make it a smooth motion...” Firm hands pressed in on either side to guide him back against Hank’s larger body, fingers soothing the earlier roughness in apology. Hank was right. As soon as he got in close, he’d made a grab for Nines to stop him from running, but taking him by surprise wasn’t part of the plan. If I’m confident, maybe he won’t run away...

As Hank’s hands relaxed, Richard pushed himself up and took a breath. He had to be confident. Nines wouldn’t run or try to peck him if he at least acted like he knew what he was doing. Richard’s dark eyes thinned slightly as he watched Nines scratching and pecking at the ground, occasionally digging out a worm to toss Gavin’s way. His feathers had relaxed again, free of their earlier indignant fluff. That was a good sign. It suggested he felt at ease in the coop, and with those around him. He didn’t appreciate the rough handling, but if he was more careful, maybe he wouldn’t mind.

“Go ahead. Get in behind, trap his wings, lift, and tuck.” Richard nodded, dark eyes fixed on Nines as he set his jaw. Lift and tuck. It sounded so simple when he said it in his head, but actually doing it was a lot harder. As he stepped closer, Nines raised his head and looked at him, but he didn’t attack or run away. Richard paused, trying not to feel nervous as he locked eyes with the sleek black rooster. “Take your time...Don’t rush it.” Sage advice. Richard nodded, staying quiet as Nines finally lost interest and returned to pecking the ground.

He moved slowly so as not to spook him, but didn’t mask his approach otherwise. His boots scuffed the ground softly as he walked, but Nines made no move to run. If anything, he made his job easier by fully turning his back to dig out a worm for Gavin. Richard licked his lips, assessing the way Nines held his wings. They were down, flush against his sides, the perfect position for grabbing. Move slowly and be gentle...Leaning down, he held his hands on either side and brought them together at Nines’ sides, trapping his wings. Dark eyes widened as he stood with the rooster in his hands, staring in disbelief as Nines turned his head to look up at him.

“That’s good, now support his chest and gently tuck him under your arm.” Seeing that Richard didn’t have the move down just yet, Hank stepped in to help. He supported Nines’ feet as Richard tentatively shuffled him under one arm. Holding him with two arms would be a lot easier, but if he was ever alone, he’d need one arm free to open and close the pen doors and climb over the fence.

“I did it!” He still couldn’t believe it. Nines was safely tucked under his arm and showed no sign of struggling. He was relaxed, wings resting leisurely at his sides, head bobbing idly back and forth. Even after Hank released his feet and stepped back, Nines didn’t try to escape. No scratching, no pecking, no flapping. He seemed perfectly content. Hank savoured the sight of Richard’s bright smile as he stared at Nines in gleeful disbelief. The dimples in his cheeks deepened as he grinned, showing off his perfectly aligned teeth.

“You did good.” He seemed to glow more at the praise. A soft pink colour bloomed across his cheeks as those dark eyes rose to look at him. Hank couldn’t help feeling proud as he ruffled his dark hair and headed for the pen door. “Let’s get him over to Gavin.” It seemed Richard had forgotten that part of the plan as he followed to climb the fence. He went carefully, wobbling a little as he heaved himself up and swung his leg over. Luckily, Hank was there to all but lift him down on the other side. Connor wisely kept his distance, tail wagging as he watched Hank’s arms slip around Richard’s waist to guide him down. Richard took his time once they were in the second pen, tentatively stroking Nines’ chest before crouching to let him go.

“Catching him was a lot easier that time...Thanks.” It was said a little awkwardly, but with genuine sincerity. Hank softened as Richard straightened up, joining him to watch Gavin and Nines frolicking across the pen. He slowly sidled closer, making it seem accidental as their arms brushed.

“Don’t thank me yet...You still have to get him back again.”

Chapter Text

Indulging himself had made it worse. A lot worse. Where before he’d only had his imagination to go on, he now knew exactly how it felt to have those delicate hips in his hands. He knew how light Richard was when he lifted him down from the fence, and how it felt to have him flush against his chest. Having snuck up behind to tease him, he even knew what it felt like to have that pert little ass nestled snug against his crotch. Richard was a lot shorter, so he had to bend his knees, but by leaning over his back, he could hold him at the perfect angle to thoroughly plough that tight little hole. His cock hardened just thinking about it. It was hard to believe Richard had let him get away with that one. Did that mean something? Had he cottoned on to what he was doing? Was bending over like a good little bitch his way of flirting? He didn’t push back or grind, but that could have been nerves or uncertainty.

Hank was now grabbing his cock on an almost nightly basis, shamelessly working his hips as he imagined all the ways he could make Richard squeal. Having watched him at every given opportunity, he now knew he was pretty flexible. Fuck, it would be nice to get him on his knees. Gripping his forearms from behind, he’d use them like reins as he fucked him, making him ride his cock like he rode those pretty horses. His ass would bounce so hard he’d fall face first into the mattress if not for the bruising grip on his wrists. He’d hold him just far enough away that his cock pulled out to the tip with each hard snap, every clap of flesh bringing forth a mewling plea for more.

Sometimes, he wondered if Richard did the same thing on these long nights. Were they both lying awake in their own beds thinking similar thoughts? Did their hands travel similar paths across their bodies as they imagined all the things they might do? Did Richard want to choke on his cock as badly as he wanted to force it down his throat? It was hard to tell when he seemed so put together in the mornings. Waking up early to see him leave his house was a common occurrence these days. He’d startle himself out of a dream of tangled limbs to grab his own cock and finish on the sheets before crossing to the window to get some air. The universe seemed to be playing a cruel joke on him, because it always seemed to coincide with Richard leaving the house.

It was like being a teenager again, and he couldn’t help but wonder if this was one of those mid-life crises people always talked about. If he suffered one of those, he’d expected it to come in the form of an expensive new car, or maybe a fancy boat. At a push, he might have believed he’d fall for a sexy woman half his age and lose everything buying her expensive gifts, but this? Jerking himself off over a guy? Richard wasn’t even that much younger. Barely ten years. He also wasn’t that good looking. There was just something about that little fucker that got him going. He had a great figure from all that riding, and his lack of height added to the appeal. At first, he’d thought his face quite rat-like, but as time wore on he decided he was actually a lot more like a ferret. Cuter, with eyes that were more soft than beady.

Affected as he was, there was really no choice but to do something about it. He couldn’t keep jerking off over his neighbour when he was right there. At fifty-four years old, Hank Anderson was more than mature enough to make a move. They were both adults. He’d ask the question, and Richard would give him a polite answer. It didn’t have to make things weird or awkward. It’ll be a lot more awkward if I spontaneously spring a boner on him. That had happened more than once at this point, but his overalls were mercifully thick, and Richard’s attention was usually on the chickens or Connor. If he didn’t get a hold of himself and do something about this soon, he’d have to rethink their regular meetings at the chicken coop.

They’d met almost every day for the past two weeks. It was a wonder Richard wasn’t getting suspicious. Connor had certainly noticed the growing routine. Every day, at almost ten o’clock, sometimes eleven if he’d been busy on the track, Richard would turn up at the coop to feed his chickens. By then, Hank had completed his morning rounds and returned in just enough time to tidy up and have a cup of tea before heading across to meet him. Having noticed that chicken time now lined up with Richard time, Connor had taken to sitting at the window or out on the porch waiting for him to appear. Seeing the distant figure entering his pen, Connor would hop to his paws and bark, tail wagging excitedly as he padded in circles waiting for Hank to join him.

For the first few days, Richard had looked surprised when they turned up, but as it continued happening, it became routine. He wasn’t even surprised when Connor bounded up to the fence anymore, though he still kept his distance, much to Connor’s chagrin. There was nothing so cruel as a new friend kept out of reach. At first, Hank thought Richard might feel annoyed with these constant meetings, but he always greeted him with a smile and seemed genuinely interested in whatever he had to say. He’d talked him through the breeding process, egg gestation, how to improve the chances of the chicks surviving, which bedding was best, the different feed they could eat, things that should be avoided, and what to look out for as far as common ailments were concerned. Pretty much everything a first time chicken breeder could want to know.

Nines and Gavin certainly appreciated these increased visits. They didn’t get to see each other every day, but whenever their libido dipped or they started to seem out of sorts, Richard would carry Nines over the fence and into Hank’s old pen. Those were Hank’s favourite days, because he got to lift him down as he climbed over. Richard was capable of climbing himself, but it seemed to be a silent agreement that Hank would help. Hank wasn’t sure if he secretly enjoyed their closeness or if it was to ensure Nines’ safety. Either way, he got to hold him in his arms, and if a hand ended up on his thigh or his ass in the process, it was definitely just an accident, and Richard never complained. It was on one such day, standing in his pen as Nines and Gavin frolicked, that the perfect opportunity arose to get Richard out of the house.

“You’ve never had a Sunday dinner at The Nag’s Head?” Anticipation welled in the pit of Hank’s stomach at the news. It was an almost weekly ritual for him, living alone and all, to drive down to the local pub for dinner on Sunday. He might indulge himself once or twice throughout the week as well, but Sunday was special. Sunday was roast day. Slowly roasted meat, crispy roast or mashed potatoes, a selection of fresh vegetables, and thick gravy with an array of other condiments. The landlady, Rose, put her heart into every plate. You couldn’t beat her Sunday dinners.

“I’ve never been to The Nag’s Head.” Richard blinked at the shocked choking sound that came out of Hank’s mouth. Never been to the...How? Richard didn’t see what all the fuss was about. It was just the local pub. The town was small, more of a village really. Who’d even go in there? As he thought about it, Hank decided that maybe he shouldn’t really be surprised. Richard had moved in alone and barely spoke to anyone, from what he’d seen. The only visitors at the house were business related, and those were rare. Allen picked up a few things for him when he came in the mornings, and anything else could be picked up discreetly at the local market.

“Well, that settles it! We’re going to change that immediately.” He wouldn’t be a very good neighbour if he didn’t take him to town and introduce him to the other locals. I’ll have to be careful though...Fresh meat didn’t come along very often, and those old fannies would definitely take a shine to Richard. How could they not? He’d be the youngest guy in town that wasn’t pushed out of their own foo-foo or at school with their kids. A lot of them had husbands already, of course, but those who didn’t would be a real pain in the ass.

“That isn’t necessary. I’m sure you have better things to do than-” Was that a flush in his cheeks?

“Hogwash! You can’t move into a small town like this and not introduce yourself to the locals! People will start thinking you’re a hermit!” Richard tried not to look too called out by the term. Besides these little chats with Hank and his business partnership with Allen, he probably was a bit of a hermit. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been out with anyone to socialise. To be fair, until two years ago, I was too focused on riding to care. He’d trained hard and didn’t really drink to keep his weight down. “You don’t want to be labelled that strange Farmer Perkins now, do you?” When he put it like that, maybe it was a good idea to head out and meet people. But what if they thought he was strange anyway?

He’d never had much luck with people before, being considered too brash, too curt, too dull, or too much of a workaholic to be interesting. Around the stables, people tended to steer clear of him because he was a jockey; stereotypically rude, moody, and entitled. He was lucky when he met Allen. They shared an enthusiasm for horses that went beyond the race and could talk for hours. It was the first time he’d considered himself to have made a friend. A real friend. There were people he knew, of course. Those who’d shared his classes at school and those who’d competed with him over the years, but that was different to having a friend. He sort of wished Allen was there to go with him to the village. People always liked Allen, so he knew he could hover quietly in the background while he took the spotlight and everything would go perfectly. Unfortunately, Allen wasn’t there.

“So, I’ll pick you up tonight at five-thirty and we’ll drive down to the pub.” Everything was moving too fast, but Richard nodded before he could even think to change his mind. It was strange, but as Hank gave him that warm, encouraging smile, everything seemed much calmer. He wasn’t going into town alone. Hank would be there. He’d known these people for years, so surely if Hank introduced him, they’d think nothing of it. Maybe things would go smoothly after all. “Attaboy.” The low grumble sent an unexpected shiver down Richard’s spine, all the way to his twitching cock. He couldn’t help tugging his loose top a little lower at the sensation, quietly hoping those soft blue eyes wouldn’t notice.

They parted soon after that. Richard to his house and Hank to see to his own chickens. Hank almost whooped as he went. It wasn’t exactly a date; he hadn’t asked him in the right tone for that, but it was still dinner. That mean something, right? If Richard didn’t want to spend more time with him, or found his company distasteful, he would have refused outright and made his excuses. That he’d agreed to dinner was promising. If he made it good, maybe he’d agree to it more often. If he got relaxed enough, maybe with a drink or two, perhaps something more might happen. It was almost concerning how willing his cock was to get the younger man drunk and have his way with him. Hank sighed fondly as he grabbed his feed bucket and entered his own coop. As if he’d do that!

Just because he wouldn’t, didn’t mean he couldn’t think about it. Richard was probably a sight when he was drunk. He couldn’t imagine him otherwise. Being so prim and proper while sober, it was hard to believe he could be anything else, but it wasn’t unheard of. The quietest people were often the most wild when they cut loose. Fuck, what could that mean for the bedroom? He could imagine it right now, those arms gripping his shoulders, shirt barely pushed to his elbows as he squirmed and bucked against him. Hazy brown eyes would stare up all needy and unfocused, a healthy flush lighting his cheeks as he gave him a coy look. He’d enjoy finally getting to stroke the soft hair on his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath as Richard squirmed, feeble hands covering himself as Hank finally got his pants free.

That shyness wouldn’t last long, quickly erased with alcohol and teasing kisses. He might let him keep the shirt about his shoulders. He liked the way it looked as he turned to present his ass; how it hung across his back and left his shoulders and ass bare as he rested his hands on the bedframe and looked over his shoulder. It was a coy come-hither look. Hank would crawl onto the bed behind him to rub gentle circles on his ass before opening him up for the fucking he deserved. Those pretty little hands would grip the metal frame good and tight, knees planted firmly in the sheets as Hank pushed in and rutted for all he was worth. Richard would keen so loudly he was sure Nines and Gavin would be put to shame with their pitiful morning crows.

Feeling those needy lips on his would be something else. Richard would push up against his body, brown eyes soft and needy as he panted his name in a desperate plea. Nimble fingers would fist in his hair, and Hank would allow it as Richard pulled him down to mash their lips together. Hank would smirk and take over, softening the kiss and licking along his bottom lip until he opened up for him. He’d pull him down then, hold those little hips nice and snug as their tongues danced, working his cock just enough to make him squirm. Fuck, if he got the grind just right, he could hold him there until he spilled. His cock was big enough to hit all the right spots, especially in someone as small as Richard.

Stooping to get inside the coop and check on the hens was painful with his cock stiff in his overalls. He cursed quietly, tempted to whack one out right there, but that would be weird with all the chickens watching. He did, however, readjust himself enough to finish his work in peace. With that done, he headed back to the house to take care of the problem properly and get ready for the date.

Chapter Text

Richard sighed, turning his face up into the spray to rinse off. He was thinking too much. Hank’s offer was a simple act of politeness. It didn’t mean anything. They were just going to dinner. It wasn’t the first time he’d been out with an acquaintance to eat. Was Hank an acquaintance, or did he dare call him a friend? They’d seen each other a lot more recently, either by design or happy coincidence. Sometimes, he might almost think it was deliberate, the way he lingered. The way he lifted him down from the fence was even more suspect, though it would be a lie to say he didn’t encourage it. Had Hank noticed the way he leaned into it when his hands strayed beyond the bounds of politeness? Probably not. He was likely too decent for that. Any stray touches were probably an accident.

He couldn’t help thinking back to when he’d taught him to catch Nines. Those firm hands on his hips. How his ass had bumped his thighs. That growling voice in his ear. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Maybe it wasn’t as salacious as he recalled. Richard sighed as his cock twitched, running a hand through his sodden hair as it slowly filled out. It had been a while since he’d indulged himself, but was this really the right time? He was meeting Hank in less than an hour to head into town. But I can hardly meet him like this. There was no way his smart trousers would hide the bulge.

Closing his eyes, Richard gripped his cock and started stroking back and forth. He didn’t tighten his hand at first, barely running his palm over the soft outer skin. Water still cascaded over his head, spilling over his eyes and mouth until he leaned out of the spray with an arm on the wall. Was it weird to think of Hank at a time like this? Probably. The man was much older and larger. That just seemed to do it for him more. It was so easy for Hank to lift him, even with one arm. He seemed to weigh nothing at all. He’d be like a koala on a tree if he picked him up properly. What did that mean for his cock? Oh-fuck!

If his cock matched his body size, he didn’t even think he’d be able to take it. He’d tried it before, sure. He went to an all boy’s school. They’d all done their share of experimenting, some more than others. Some with less choice than others. Being small came with its own disadvantages. His thighs had been fair game for pretty much anyone back then, but only a privileged few had the knowhow or inclination to use his ass or mouth. A few who knew what they were doing and wouldn’t let amateurs ruin the good thing they had going. The memories made him bite his lip and whimper. Would Hank be like that? Would he stretch him slowly while murmuring gentle assurances that it would get better?

Richard turned and leaned his shoulders on the tiles, freeing up his hand and reaching back to squeeze his ass. He didn’t really do that sort of thing these days. Being so focused on work had killed his libido somewhat. He’d had lovers on occasion, but they were often quiet, fleeting affairs. Something to get out the pent up frustration. Discrete and away from the public eye. What would people think of him now as he teased his ass and jerked off to the thought of an older man? Maybe they wouldn’t be too surprised, having never seen him with a woman. Luckily, being a jockey, he was considered a D list celebrity. Only people who were into racing knew him by name, and to the public at large he was a nameless face. They might know him from somewhere, but they rarely knew where.

Tightening the hand on his cock, Richard slowly teased a finger against the hidden ring of muscle. He didn’t push inside. That wasn’t really his thing, but it felt good to tease the outer muscles. A sharp hiss slipped out as he imagined how Hank’s fingers might feel doing the same thing. His fingers were much larger than his own. The stretch would probably hurt if he pushed in more than one. It would burn, but maybe it would be a good burn. The pain always got better in the long run, though he didn’t think anything could properly prepare him to sit on that cock.

His legs quivered as he parted his thighs a little further and lowered his hips. The tiles were cold on his back, but the new position gave him more room to press and circle the gradually softening ring. He hummed softly, dark eyes fluttering as he pumped and squeezed his cock and imagined it was Hank’s hand. Steam billowed in the tight space, making his pants even more laboured. Water pattered across his body, gushing over his hand and cock to wash away the beading droplets at the tip. A moan caught in his throat as his entrance loosened further, soft muscles almost inviting the tip of his finger inside. He didn’t push further, content to tug and tease the twitching ring.

What would it feel like to kiss Hank? To feel those scruffy whiskers brushing his lips? Where else would he kiss? Perhaps his neck. Tilting his head, he could just imagine the trail Hank’s lips would follow. Nipping his lobe, growling in his ear about what a needy little prude he was and telling him he’d soon sort that out, Hank would move lower. He’d nip and kiss his way down his neck and shoulder to tease his chest, lingering on his hardened nubs just long enough to make him squirm. Once he was suitably hot and bothered, maybe he’d keep going. The thought of Hank’s lips around his cock made him whimper. He couldn’t help imagining how he’d lick and suck, deliberately scratching those whiskers on the sensitive skin.

Richard whined and squeezed his eyes shut, jerking faster and bouncing his ass against the tiles. He could almost feel Hank’s scratching whiskers and imagine how he’d grip his ass to pull him closer, sucking him all the way down and holding him there, swallowing around him until he came. The thought of him swallowing was too much, making him spill over his hand with a strangled whimper. He was a little breathless afterwards, panting as he pushed himself off the wall for a final rinse. Stepping out, he wrapped a towel around his waist and approached the steamed up mirror on quivering legs. Wiping the wet glass, he stared at his spent reflection, shaking off the blissful haze. His cheeks were smooth and flushed, freshly shaved before the shower, where he’d used the spray to ensure all the foam was washed off.

Letting himself dry, he set about finishing his routine. Face cream to soothe his sensitive skin, and a dab of the cologne he usually wore for business meetings. It was an expensive brand. Spicy, with a fruity undertone. A gift from Allen on his last birthday. His cheeks felt soft and smooth, thanks to the five bladed razor he used. Electric razors were fine, but they just didn’t have the same glide. He liked the feel of the blades pulling across his skin, leaving clean tracks of flesh in their wake as the foam was swept away. It risked leaving nicks in the skin, but it felt like a much closer shave.

Done with his face, he moved on to the rest of his skin, taking his time as he dropped the towel and squeezed out some thick white cream. It was rapidly heading towards summer, so his skin wasn’t as dry as usual, but it never hurt to add a little moisture. He was thorough, rubbing and massaging the cream over his body until his skin was smooth. Sticky creams were awful and Richard was quite picky with the brands he used. This cream was rich enough that it soothed his skin, but didn’t leave a tacky feeling behind afterwards. It had taken a long time to find such a cream, and it was well worth the price. He’d always been prone to flaky skin, so moisturising was a must. His arms and legs were generally the worst, so he took care to massage a healthy layer across the skin.

When he was younger, he used to think he was too hairy. It wasn’t really that he was hairy, but the hair on his arms, legs, and chest was a lot darker than his pale skin. The dark hair had resulted in a few unflattering nicknames when it first grew in, which led to him shaving it. That had also drawn its fair share of notice. Towards the end of high school, he’d learned to live with it, and since most other boys had a healthy layer of fuzz by then, it largely went unnoticed. The hair was soft as his fingers ran over it, now dry and curled as usual.

The next thing to think about was his hair. Fresh from the shower, the thick strands were slowly drying, leaving stray curls across his brow. He could leave it fluffed and natural, brush it back and hope for the best, or use a little gel or hairspray to keep it in place. It wasn’t a date, but he was going out for dinner. For business meetings, he usually gelled it back to look a little more professional. This isn’t a business dinner...The gel would make his hair a little sticky, so he’d probably end up showering later to get it out if he put it in. Running his fingers through the strands, he frowned and reached for the comb. Once he’d brushed it, he turned his head this way and that. It looked pretty good. Neat but casual.

Leaving the bathroom, he pulled on some boxers and headed for the wardrobe to look through his suits. He was going for dinner, so it made sense to dress formally, but it was only a local pub, so how formal was too formal? A full four piece suit would probably be too much, but he did look good in a waistcoat. The sharp cut hugged his lithe figure and emphasised his shoulders and waist, but he wouldn’t wear it without a tie, and that definitely seemed too formal for a modest country pub. Would a three piece be too much? It was a country pub, but he was going for dinner. He wasn’t sure he could recall a time he’d been to a restaurant without dressing up.

His grey suit was nice, and the colour was soft and muted. It was made of a rich, silky-feeling material, but it wasn’t shiny like the more gaudy ones you could buy. He’d never been a fan of that type of material, finding the glossy sheen made them look cheap despite the high cost. It was a four piece, but he didn’t have to wear all four parts at once. Taking the suit and a white shirt, he headed to the bed and rummaged in the drawers for his garters. This wasn’t a business meeting, but he’d be damned if he was going out looking like an intern. He pulled the elastic up to his thighs, sliding it up mid-way until the straps felt snug. After that, he buttoned his shirt and fastened the garter clips, adjusting them until the shirt was neatly pinned down. There was enough give in the smaller straps that he could move and bend comfortably, but they were tight enough to keep his shirt neat and tucked at all times.

Those weren’t the only garters. Just as he liked his shirt to be pinned down, he also couldn’t stand having to continually pull his socks up. He could feel it when they slid down, and he hated the feeling as they pooling at his ankles. The solution to that was sock garters, so a further two rings looped and clipped around his calves, and two smaller straps on either side pinned each sock in place. They were considered outdated and old-fashioned to anyone outside the business world, but they were practical and functional. He paused by the mirror on his wardrobe and turned this way and that, tracing the black straps on his flesh and making sure the clips were properly fastened.

Satisfied, he pulled on the grey trousers and looped a soft brown belt around his waist. The suit was fitted, so it sat on his waist perfectly even without the belt, but he always liked to complete the look. He paused as the silky silver tie caught his eye. It had been a while since he’d worn this suit properly, and it was one of his favourites. He slipped on the tie and neatly turned down the collar before pulling on the waistcoat. It was too much for a casual dinner, of course, but the way the waistcoat hugged his figure really sharpened the line of his shoulders.

Unfortunately, the bell rang at that moment and interrupted his musings. His bedroom was a few feet along the hall from the stairs, so he hurried down and padded through to the front door. When he opened it, he was almost lost for words. He’d never seen Hank out of his heavy denim overalls before. He was still wearing denim in the form of jeans paired with a soft-looking shirt. It looked like some sort of flannel, which was enough to ward off the evening chill of late spring. The material was a deep shade of blue with black and grey stripes in a chequered pattern, which enhanced his soft eyes. He’d recently showered, leaving his grey hair soft and fluffed, and his thick beard neatly trimmed. Upon seeing him, he broke out into a wide grin, revealing a small gap between his front teeth that Richard hadn’t noticed before.

“Where do you think we’re going? The Savoy?” Richard stammered a little, still on the back foot after seeing him dressed up. Looking down at himself, he pulled the door wider and waved him inside, pressing himself against the wall as Hank stepped in. He really was a lot taller, especially when they were standing so close. Hank paused right next to him and looked down where he was leaning on the wall looking flustered. “It’s only a small pub. I don’t think a full suit is necessary.” The amused grumble sent tingles across Richard’s neck.

“R-right, sorry, I was just trying it on...It’s been a while.” He was honestly a little embarrassed to be caught playing dress up. Hank’s lips softened slightly as he leaned his arm on the wall beside him and lounged above him, blue eyes running up and down his lithe body. Richard licked his lips, suddenly nervous as he looked up at Hank’s almost predatory expression. He shook it off. It was probably his imagination. There was no reason Hank would look at him like that. His arms folded almost instinctively, and he swore Hank leaned a little closer.

“Looks good on you. I’m sure it serves you well in all those business meetings.” Richard swallowed at the low rumble in Hank’s throat. He’d virtually purred the words, and there was something almost smug in his expression as Richard looked up.

“It’s one of my favourites...” Silence fell between them for a few moments, eyes quietly playing a game of cat and mouse. Hank would try to catch his eye, and Richard’s chestnut gaze would dart away uncertainly.

“Lose the tie and waistcoat.” Sound advice. Richard reached up to grab the knot, only to find two weathered hands there already. “Allow me.” Hank pulled smoothly, loosening the tie and slipping it from his throat in one firm tug. The material made a dull crack as he whipped it, and Richard watched stunned as he wrapped the end around his hand and pulled, examining the rich material. He couldn’t help the way his cock twitched at the thought of what he might do with it. “It’s nice...Good and strong.” Hank held the material tight a few moments longer before letting the end fall and neatly folding it.

“Thanks, I-I’ll just put these upstairs and grab my jacket.” Despite taking the tie, it was a full five seconds later that he actually pushed off the wall and hurried upstairs. His heart thudded in anticipation as he entered the bedroom and unbuttoned his waistcoat. Was that a pass? That was definitely a pass, right? He heaved a sigh as he shrugged out of the snug material. Flirting had never been his strong suit, and he was terrible at reading people. Perhaps the situation would become clearer later on. Leaving the tie and waistcoat on the end of the bed, he slung the jacket over his arm and hurried down to meet Hank.

Chapter Text

“I still can’t believe you’ve never visited the pub!” Richard almost felt like he was being told off as Hank drove down the dirt road leading off his property. Hank had to fetch his truck and bring it to Richard’s yard to get him to climb in. Since the weather was nice, he’d left Connor and Sumo loose in his yard, and Richard wouldn’t set foot in it, especially not in his favourite suit. Connor, staring through the fence, had looked less than pleased. It really was incredibly unfair that his new friend was always kept beyond his reach. Sumo, also enjoying the early evening air, seemed to agree as he joined him at the fence, panting happily as he watched the two men driving away.

“I guess I’m not the type to drink alone,” Richard excused with a shrug as he watched the budding fields roll by. Wheat and various other crops were growing in now, standing in neat rows of churned earth. Beyond the fields were a few houses, marking the edge of the small village. The pub stood on the outskirts on its own patch of land. It was a large stone building that looked like it had been standing for at least two hundred years, if not longer. There was a more modern parking lot out front where Hank parked, lined with a few wooden benches where people could sit and enjoy the sun or smoke cigarettes.

“That’s probably a good way to be.” Hank had cut back a lot on drinking at home since his wife passed. She’d always complained he drank too much, and for the first few weeks after the accident, he thought he might just drink himself into a pit, but then he’d stopped. The thought of it had churned his stomach, the taste bitter on his tongue. He didn’t get the same enjoyment without his wife’s gentle nagging, and there was no one to keep him company. Since then, he’d decided to only drink when he went to the pub or if he had company. He visited the pub two or three times a week and often warmed a stool at the bar talking to Rose and anyone else who stopped in.

Upon entering the cosy pub, Rose hollered a greeting from her usual place behind the bar and bustled out to greet them. She usually waited for him to get to the bar, but it seemed the unfamiliar face had caught her interest. Richard put on a polite business facade as they shook hands, surprised by how strong her grip was. Hank and Rose were clearly good friends as they hugged and exchanged brief kisses on their cheeks. There were many ways one might describe Rose, but Hank would describe her as a portly woman with a lifetime of cooking on her hips. That woman didn’t make food; she made love to it. He’d never met a woman who could cook like Rose, not even his late wife, though he’d never told her that.

Rose didn’t even need to ask if they wanted to order food. Hank was a regular for Sunday dinner, so she knew that’s what they’d want. Telling them that the meat was chicken that week, she ushered them to a cosy corner table and offered to bring them drinks. Hank ordered his usual pint of bitter while Richard had red wine. Conversation was a little stilted at first. Richard couldn’t help feeling awkward, being in an unfamiliar place, and Hank wasn’t sure what to say. Their backgrounds were very different. He could tell just by looking at him that Richard had grown up with a certain amount of privilege, and he’d turned into a minor celebrity. Hank, on the other hand, had lived on the farm all his life. It was his great-great-grandfather’s farm. They’d renovated the house a few times over the years, but that was the house he’d grown up in, and his father before him.

“So...why racing?” It seemed best to start on a topic that might bring Richard out of his shell. He always enjoyed talking about horses, so it stood to reason this would be no different. He was right. The moment he asked, Richard’s dark eyes lit up, and he leaned forward on folded arms. If there was one thing he could talk about, it was horses.

“I started riding when I was in high school.” Hank almost snorted. That sounded about right. He seemed the type that went to a fancy rich-boy school. Luckily, Richard didn’t take the snort to heart. “There was a polo club that had games every weekend.” Even better! Hank had never seen a game of polo, but he got the idea. Two teams riding on horseback used giant wooden mallets to whack a ball through metal loops in the grass. He wasn’t too sure on the point system or if there were goals, but he got that it was a rich-boy sport involving horses. “I did that for a while, but I was a lot more interested in exercising the horses and helping around the stables. During my last two years, I started racing competitively and never looked back. I got picked up by a sponsor soon after graduation.” Hank wasn’t surprised by that. Even in his forties, Richard was small and nimble, and he rode like he was born for it. In his heyday, he must have been quite a sight.

“Have you ever done anything else?” If he started racing right out of high school, it didn’t seem likely.

“Well, I had summer jobs at the local supermarket during university. I did equine studies, so I’d know how to take care of the horses properly. Although I had to train on the track, I had ample time for my studies as well. You can’t run the horses all day, and the best times are early morning and late afternoon to avoid the heat.” It made sense that if he’d done all his training before sunrise or in the early evening, then he would have been able to study as well. The working side surprised him though. He couldn’t see Richard as the shelf filling type, and the thought of him trying to hike items onto the higher shelves was more than a little amusing. “What about you?”

“Me? Lived here all my life...Well, besides when I was studying animal science to take on the farm. I had to go into the city for that, but I came straight home after. My dad was getting on by then, so it fell to me to take care of things.” He had no siblings, so it was always expected that he’d carry on the family business. He’d been set to pass it on to his own son before the accident. Unfortunately, the farm would likely end with him and be sold off when he reached retirement. Hell, with the way things are going, no one will want to buy it by the time I retire! It wasn’t the most glamourous or well-paying of jobs.

“Did you ever want to do anything else?” Hank shrugged his large shoulders. What else would he do? His parents had never been well off. They’d made it through the year alright, and he never went hungry or anything like that, but they couldn’t afford for him to go off and do any fancy studies out of state. Even as a teen, he was needed on the farm, and family was important. How could he leave when his parents needed him?

“Sure, I had fantasies about being a pilot when I was younger, or joining the military, but I was never serious about anything else...My parents needed me on the farm, and I enjoy keeping the animals.” It was a simple life; sometimes hard, but things were good. Obviously, the profits had dipped for small farms like his over the years, what with all the commercial produce available at lower prices, but the locals still bought from him. That would probably see him through to retirement. If nothing else, the house and land would fetch a pretty penny when the time came. He owned quite a lot, and the land was good for building, though he hated to encourage more modernisation, especially in a sleepy town like theirs.

More locals filtered in over time, and Richard grew more and more uncomfortable under their scrutiny. He could feel them looking at him as they huddled around the bar or at nearby tables, and he swore he could hear them talking. Mercifully, they left them alone while they ate, and as Hank assured him, it was a meal worth waiting for. Succulent white meat, a generous dollop of stuffing, fresh greens straight from the farm, honey glazed carrots and parsnips, fluffy mashed potato, a few crispy roast potatoes, and a healthy slosh of thick gravy. Richard added cranberry sauce to his plate while Hank chose French mustard. Hank was a little surprised. He didn’t think Richard was the sweet type.

When the main meal was done, Rose brought out a generous helping of apple pie. It was warm, freshly baked, with a large scoop of ice cream on the side. During the colder weather, she might have used warm custard, but with things heating up, ice cream seemed the better choice. The sound that fled Richard’s throat when he tried it had Hank’s cock twitching with interest. His brown eyes were soft with want as he stared at the bowl like it was the most delicious dessert he’d ever tasted. Maybe it was. You didn’t stay that small and light by indulging your vices. The pastry was glazed and sweet, crisp, with real chunks of stewed apple inside. It might have been heavy if not for the scoop of ice cream to lift the dish. It was sweet and tart. Heavenly. He could have eaten a second helping, but politely declined. It wouldn’t do to indulge too much. Hank had no such reservations and heartily enjoyed a second bowl before ordering two strong whiskies to finish the meal.

It was at this point, when the table was cleared and they were leisurely nursing their glasses, that the more curious locals edged closer hoping for an introduction. Hank noticed, of course, and obligingly introduced Richard as his new neighbour. He could tell Richard was uncomfortable being on the spot, especially as the local women arrived at their table. These women were closer to his age than Richard’s, and mostly older. They flirted as he knew they would, and Richard was stiff and uncomfortable, even more so since he’d been drinking.

“Ah, get on now, Edith! He’s young enough to be your son!” He wasn’t at all, but the jibe was worth it as the grey-haired woman turned to him with a look of indignation etched into her crow-like features. Richard was a little worried at first. Edith, clearly older than Hank, seemed truly offended that Hank would say such a thing. Hank was unapologetic as he grinned, accepting the light swat that landed on his arm with a loud guffaw.

“Henry-Hank Anderson! How dare you say such a thing about a fine young lady!” Even Edith’s friends chortled at that, which led to them getting an earful as well. Despite her sharp tongue, Edith maintained a good humour and even flirted with Hank. Richard watched carefully as Hank evaded such advances. He rather lamented the fact that it was a skill he lacked, ending up with a body in his lap more than once throughout the evening. Luckily, Rose noted his discomfort and took pity on him, hurrying the ladies away to give them some peace.

The men were a little easier to talk to, all of them being much older and in no way interested in flirtations. They were happy to talk about his plans for the old farm, though a few were slightly disapproving of it being used for something as unproductive as racing. Better that it go to Richard than be turned into houses though. It seemed they eventually decided he was worthy of the place and were particularly interested in his chickens. Although he already had a mountain of advice from Hank, the locals were generous with their own sage words. Many even suggested they might be interested in eggs or meat, and some could offer him discounts on hay and feed for the horses. Overall, it was a surprisingly productive evening.

The local men were also generous with their drinks, which was a good thing for Hank, but not so much for Richard with his far smaller constitution. It was barely ten o’clock when Hank, still quite unaffected, noticed him flagging. Richard didn’t have a high social tolerance at the best of times, but adding alcohol on top had wiped him out somewhat. Hank chuckled and looped an arm around his smaller shoulders, unsurprised as most of his weight ended up on his side. It would be rude, but not inaccurate, to call him a lightweight. Hank politely made their excuses and grabbed Richard’s jacket before leading him out.

“You can’t drive back...You’ve been drinking,” Richard chided, his voice slurring slightly as Hank walked him over to his battered old truck. He stumbled a little as he walked, and it would be a lie to say Hank could walk in a straight line either. Leaning Richard on the side of the truck, Hank opened the cabin and leaned in to grab his keys. There was never a need to lock things up, but if he was leaving the truck overnight, he always did. He needed the keys to get in the house anyway.

“I know-I know. Let me grab my keys.” Keys in hand, Hank tossed Richard’s fine jacket on the front seat and locked the door before leading him onto the main road. They weren’t too far from the farm, barely a forty  minute walk at a normal pace. It would probably take longer with their stumbling steps, but they could make the journey shorter if they cut through the fields. “Come on, Richie. Let’s get you home.” Richard’s head snapped up to look at him. No one called him Richie. No one except Allen. Did that mean they were friends now? Giddiness fluttered in his chest, making his neck flush right to his ears.

“Are you taking me all the way?” It slipped out before he could catch himself. He wasn’t sure if Hank missed the flirtatious undertone or ignored it as they kept walking.

“What? You think I’m going to leave you halfway?” he chuckled as they passed the last few houses beyond the pub. God, I hope not...Leaving the pavement behind, the path became uneven. They were on the smaller dirt roads now, heading out to the farmland beyond. It was easy to stumble, even when sober, so it was really no surprise when Richard fell into him. Hank’s arm around his shoulders kept him upright, and they continued tripping their way along the trail. “Fuck, you’re going to end ass up at this rate! Let’s get into the fields.” The ground would be more uneven, but they’d get back faster that way. The words went straight to Richard’s dick as they stopped by the fence. Ending ass up seemed like a pretty good idea.

Hank went first, choosing a spot where the wooden fence looked less worn. It was only three slats high, so it was easy for him to climb over. It wasn’t one of his fields, but they all backed onto each other, and so long as they didn’t wreck the crops, they were all fine with other locals passing through. Being so far from the city, they rarely got hoodlums looking to cause trouble or ignorant hikers going offtrack. Richard was next, and it seemed much more difficult than usual. Hank kept his hands on him at all times, which was fine by Richard, who almost flung himself off the other side. Hank caught him bodily against his chest, accepting the arms around his neck as he lowered him to the ground.

“Easy does it.” Hank helped him find his feet, chuckling as he remained against his chest, clinging to his shoulders. “Clingy little ferret.” The words sounded more affectionate than they ought, and Richard looked positively scandalised as a large hand stroked his head. A ferret? He loved ferrets! Did that mean it was a good thing? It certainly seemed that way if the warmth in Hank’s aged eyes was anything to go by. Taking advantage of their closeness, Richard buried his face in Hank’s chest and noted a musky scent. It was earthier than his own, without the fruity spice. Hank’s arms looped around his waist and a large hand patted his shoulder blades. “Come on, it’s only about thirty minutes.”

“Carry me.” Richard’s dark eyes were hazy and unfocused as he looked up, but there was more than a little heat swirling in their depths.

“What are you? A prince?” Despite the teasing, Hank reconciled that it would probably be a lot safer and faster with Richard on his back. Turning away, he dropped to one knee and looked over his shoulder expectantly. Richard seemed positively giddy with excitement. He hadn’t been carried like this in years! Hank huffed as the weight landed on his back and those lean arms looped across his chest, being careful not to grab his neck. When he was sure he had a grip, Hank stood, catching his legs beneath his knees and hefting him higher. “Come on then, your highness.” Hank felt his own skin heat as Richard giggled in his ear, an unexpected and delightful sound that sent warmth coiling through his chest. “You like that, huh?” Richard’s head falling on his shoulder was almost all the answer he needed as his arms tightened.

Hank set off across the fields, keeping to the outer edges and only following the clearly trodden paths. Richard was light as a feather, head still resting on his shoulder as his breath warmed his neck with gentle puffs. He almost thought he was asleep until he felt the fleeting brush of lips at his collar. Assuming it was an accident, Hank Jostled him a little higher and continued on his way, but he was surprised as those soft lips returned. It seemed like an accident at first, the result of a sleepy head nodding on his shoulder, but then creeping fingers popped the top button of his shirt. Hank licked his lips, chest fluttering in anticipation as he kept going, quietly wondering how far Richard would go.

That question was soon answered as hesitant fingers slipped inside his shirt to tease the fuzzy curls on his chest. It seemed fairly innocent so far, so Hank wasn’t about to count his chickens just yet, but when the legs on his waist tightened and he felt that telling lump against his back, it became impossible to ignore. Richard seemed bolder when he didn’t object, lips pressing more firmly as his hand slipped lower, fingers teasing through his curls. As his hips started to grind, Hank took his wrist and stopped.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, boy.” Richard balked at that, clearly embarrassed at being called out, though his ministrations were hardly subtle. Hank barely took five more steps before the lips returned and the fingers resumed their less than innocent explorations. Hank’s cock stirred at the thought. He’d given him fair warning, and he’d chosen to continue. Seemed like the go ahead to him. The thought of what he’d do to the cock grinding against his back was almost enough to make him fully hard as he trudged his way across the fields.

Chapter Text

Someone with more decorum would have continued on and taken Richard home. Laid him out all nice on a proper bed. Treated him soft and tender. Instead, Hank cast his eye about for the nearest workable surface. He could drop him on the ground and pin him against a tree or bend him over the fence, of course, but he did have some standards. There was a stack of hay bales piled in the next field, probably stores for the cows or horses. Either way, a few of those would be perfect to drop Richard’s smaller body on. Fuck, if he got him on his knees, two would probably bring his ass to the perfect height.

Halfway across the field, Richard’s teeth found his lobe, and those creeping fingers finally rubbed over his nipple. Reaching the stack of bales, Hank tossed him down on the loose ones dotted around the base of the stack. Richard looked stunned, lying on his back like a squirming ferret as he watched him pull down a few more bales to make a small mattress. Lowering his feet and resting on his elbows, Richard seemed almost coy as he looked up at him. Hank cursed under his breath as he noticed the first button of his shirt had been popped, enjoying the light breeze as it ruffled his hair.

“I warned you, your highness,” Hank groused as he planted his knee between Richard’s parted thighs and leaned over him. A small sound choked in Richard’s throat as he leaned further back, seeming almost shy. Hank chuckled as he pressed closer and laced a hand in his hair. It was a little too late to be acting like that. Richard didn’t fight or pull away as he leaned in to claim his lips, though he sucked in a surprised breath as Hank’s tongue went in for the kill. Fuck, it was better than he’d dreamed. Richard was a clingy little fucker when he got going.

He was also whiney. Hank had always suspected he might be, but those little whines were sweeter than he’d ever imagined. He settled against him, grateful for the moonlight that lit the open fields as he gazed upon him. Richard’s breath was warm against his lips, mouth open and needy for his tongue. The scratch of Hank’s whiskers was driving him crazy, one hand gingerly reaching up to stroke the thick beard. Hank chuckled and rocked against him, enjoying the way he squirmed and bucked, trying to get some relief.

“Tell me, Richie. Have you ever been fucked?” Richard looked utterly indignant at the question.

“I’m over forty! Of course I’ve had sex!” Hank smirked, an almost predatory look in his aged blue eyes. Richard fell silent as he leaned down and kissed him again. The whiskers on his lips made him moan again, warm breaths mingling as they drew back. A gentle hand laced in his hair and teased his scalp before moving lower to caress his smooth cheek.

“That’s not what I asked...I asked if you’d ever been fucked.” The look on his face, that silent question, was all Hank needed in response.

“What’s the difference?” Biting his bottom lip, a breath hissed through the gap in Hank’s teeth. His cock swelled at the words.

“You have no idea how fucking happy I am that you have to ask...” Richard was still confused, and more than a little coy, as Hank reclaimed his lips. He was pressing so close, lips and tongue so insistent, that Richard was finding it hard to keep up. He was flushed and breathless when Hank finally drew back and looked down at him. Despite all their tumbling, Richard was still remarkably put together. His collar was loose, but his shirt hadn’t budged an inch. It was almost like...Oh, fuck yes! Leaving his shirt untouched, Hank stroked his way down Richard’s legs to pull off his fine shoes, letting them fall carelessly on the ground. “You got something in here for me, Richie?” Richard looked flustered as Hank pulled his belt loose, lips stammering as he rested the back of his hand against his lips.

Hank cursed under his breath as he pulled those grey slacks off and tossed them on the ground. He’d pay for the dry cleaning later. Getting to Richard’s cock was far more important, and what a treat he was. Sock and shirt garters! All those fucking straps! He looked like a pinup boy from the 1940s, laid out as he was. Resting his hands on those delicate knees, Hank gently pushed them apart to get a proper look. Tight boxers hugged his lower half, his cock a clearly defined lump within, the tip just peeking through the waistband. He was pretty as a picture, and a picture Hank would have. Richard remained looking coy, half hiding his face as Hank pulled his phone out. If anything, the act of being photographed turned him on more.

“Fuck, you’re a sight for sore eyes!” Richard yelped, making Hank smirk as he pinged the strap on his thigh. “Unfortunately, these straps have to go.” Unclipping the shirt, Hank slid his boxers down and let them get lost somewhere at their feet. Richard seemed more vulnerable after that, but he let Hank re-clip his shirt all the same. Biting his lip, Hank snapped another photo, savouring the sight of his dark curls, generous balls, and stiff cock. “There, that’s much better, hm?” Richard was uncertain he agreed as the hay rubbed and pricked his bare ass.

“W-what about you?” He didn’t want to be the only one losing clothes. Hank chuckled as he ran his hands up and down Richard’s fuzzy thighs, enjoying the soft hair on his palms. The muscles were firm beneath his hands, legs twitching in anticipation. He leaned down again, enjoying the gasp that fled Richard’s lips as he grabbed his cock. He took his time and left prickly kisses up and down his throat, working his hand all the while. The sounds that fled Richard’s lips were like music to his ears. The ferrety little prude wouldn’t know what hit him.

“Feel free.” Taking that as permission, Richard popped the buttons of his chequered shirt, though he didn’t push it off. Being able to see Hank’s burly body was enough, and there was something alluring about their half-dressed state. Hank growled against his lips as those hands started squeezing and stroking his larger body, gripping his hips and pulling him closer. Hank returned to his lips, still pumping his cock and teasing his balls. They were smaller than his, of course, though that didn’t matter for what he had planned. The thought almost made him smirk. Feeling a telling pull on his jeans, Hank straightened up and gave Richard a come hither look.

He was like a well-trained dog. Getting to his knees, Richard perched on the edge of the bale. And what a fucking sight he made with those straps hugging his calves and thighs! Hank popped his jeans and lowered the zipper, smirking at the way Richard’s eyes followed his movements. Eager hands joined his own as he pushed his jeans down to his ankles, and his boxers swiftly followed. Taking his cock in hand, Hank pumped slowly, lifting it up to give Richard a good look. The little fucker looked hungry.

“You want this, honey?” Richard stammered out a small whining sound in response, cheeks flushing as Hank laced a hand in his hair and pulled him closer. Fuck, it had been a long time since he’d felt a mouth on his cock. He’d take anyone at this point, even if they weren’t that experienced. “Open up then...Go on, Richie. There’s a good boy...” Richard almost shuddered at the soft grumble of his voice and the gentle encouragements. He wasn’t sure anyone had ever spoken to him quite like that before. He’d also never taken anything so big.

Even the tip felt like it was too much, girthy as it was. Since he hadn’t done this for a long time, Richard took his time, licking around the tip so it was good and wet as it slipped inside. Hank let out a long, low sigh of satisfaction. At least, it sounded like satisfaction, and the curse that shortly followed was promising as well. Richard’s cheeks were bulging as Hank looked down, lips stretched tight, mouth full to bursting. He stroked his head, enjoying how it made him shudder and swallow around him.

“Can you do it, honey?” Richard whined softly, choking around him as he tried to take more. Unable to properly fill his throat, either through lack of experience or their current position, he gripped the shaft instead. “That’s it, Richie, get a good grip,” Hank moaned as he watched Richard bob his head, surging forward  as he breathed out and sucking as he pulled off. It was even better as his free hand dropped to cradle his balls and tease the heavy sack. Hank cursed again, rocking his large hips and almost throwing Richard off balance. “Hold on to me, that’s it. Attaboy.” He gently moved the hand on his cock to rest on his thigh instead, which gave Richard more support.

Richard wasn’t quite ready for it as Hank rocked his hips again, eyes burning as that enormous cock forced its way down his gullet. He almost pulled off, choking around him, but the hand in his hair pulled him back almost immediately. Tears pricked his eyes as Hank rocked in again, hitting his gag reflex and making his mouth water. Richard couldn’t help feeling embarrassed as drool spilled from his lips, making things even slicker for Hank as he rocked in again. Releasing his balls, Richard grabbed both hips and held on for dear life as Hank bucked down his throat. He felt sick and breathless by the time Hank pulled off and snapped another picture. Richard blushed at the thought. He must look an awful sight with his mouth hanging open and saliva dripping down his chin. Why would Hank want a picture of that? To Hank, it was something that would get him off for the next month. All that choking, and Richard was still dripping and ready to burst.

“Ready for that fucking, your highness?” It was almost cute how that little nickname made his cheeks heat. “Up here. Show me that pretty little ass.” Richard did as he was told, crawling on all fours onto the higher layer of hay bales Hank had set up earlier. Hank indulged him with a lingering kiss as he climbed up and led him onto his knees. Richard couldn’t help feeling self-conscious as he gripped the edge of the bale and held his ass up. It wasn’t like he waxed down there, so it probably looked as hairy as the rest of him. The groan Hank let out was almost reassuring, though the snap of his camera made his cheeks flush. Did he really need to picture that? “Fuck, I can’t wait to get that pretty little ass on me.” Hank smirked as Richard looked over his shoulder, coy and uncertain.

“W-will it hurt?” It usually did, to varying degrees.

“If it hurts, I’m doing it wrong and you should say something, you hear me?” That was something he’d never heard before. It must have shown on his face, too. “Jesus Christ, what kind of animals have you been with?” Whoever they were, Hank was determined he was going to put them to shame. If it usually hurt, he was already one step ahead. “Don’t worry, you just leave things to me, alright?” Richard nodded uncertainly, still wary as he gripped the edge of the bale and played with the plastic yarn that held it together. Hank’s hands were warm on his ass as he circled the plump cheeks, clapping them lightly and enjoying the way his thighs quivered.

Pinging the elastic straps, he parted those cheeks to assess the twitching ring of muscle. It was small and tight, as expected. Richard didn’t strike him as the regular type. Not yet, at least. Hank’s cock twitched at the thought that he might change that. Fuck, the things he wanted to do to him. For now, he settled for leaning down to lick a strip up his ass, chuckling softly as he yelped and pushed himself up, face aghast. That he looked so shocked was a sure sign he was already ahead of his other lovers.

“What’s the matter? No one’s ever eaten your ass before?” The blush on his cheeks was enough to answer that.

"W-wha-that’s dirty!” Hank chortled at the flustered telling off, pressing him down between the shoulders until he was back in place.

“Hogwash! Now, keep that pretty little head down and moan for me.” Richard would have said more, only Hank’s tongue had already returned to its rightful place between his cheeks to lick and circle his entrance. Richard squirmed, unable to escape as Hank pulled his cheeks wider, whiskers prickling his skin. He swore he was going to get beard rash if he kept that up. Despite the mortification, his cock certainly wasn’t complaining. It felt weird at first, warm and wet, breath huffing against his twitching hole. It got better once the tip of that wriggling tongue finally breached him, forcing a moan of surprise from his lips.

A weathered hand patted his ass at that, almost praising him for doing as he was told. Richard could almost swear he was dreaming as he closed his eyes and gripped the bale. Surely this wasn’t really happening. He couldn’t be kneeling outside in the middle of the night with his ass in the air for Hank fucking Anderson. It was impossible! Another moan slipped out as that tongue pushed deeper, and something else. Oh God! One hand left his ass, and a finger was soon pushing in alongside his seeking tongue. Richard couldn’t help shuffling his thighs wider in a silent plea, holding his ass up for more. It almost seemed like Hank heard as a second slick finger worked its way in.

“Attaboy, Richie. Don’t hold back.” Richard whined louder at that, gasping and pushing himself up as those fingers pushed in right to the knuckles. He didn’t think he’d ever been so full, and it was just his fingers so far. The strangest part was that it didn’t hurt. “Go ahead, honey. You ride those fingers.” He didn’t even realise he’d nudged his hips back. At Hank’s gentle encouragement, he rocked his hips again, still uncertain as he looked over his shoulder. His cock twitched as he noticed Hank aiming his phone at his ass, either taking a picture or video of his fingers sliding in and out. Richard moaned loudly, drawing Hank’s attention enough that he cursed and snapped a picture of his face. “You like that, honey? Having your picture taken?” The way his cock dripped certainly suggested he did.

Hank chuckled as if he knew, setting his phone aside so he could reach between his thighs and palm his cock. It was a perfect handful. The size of Hank’s hand almost made Richard blush. He’d never thought himself to be small before, just average, but he certainly looked small in Hank’s hand. Richard squirmed, a surprised and uncertain whine escaping as Hank edged in a third finger. It was a little less enjoyable this time, and Hank stopped the moment he heard it. Richard froze, quivering and panting as Hank leaned low over his back. He wasn’t sure if he was turned on or disgusted as he heard him spit on his ass, going back to two fingers for a while.

“You need to tell me, remember?” Richard nodded, cheeks flushed and glistening. His whole body felt hot, and his shirt was getting sticky. He whined and whimpered, following Hank’s gruff instructions to relax and breathe as the third finger returned. Although a little uncomfortable, it didn’t hurt this time, and Hank continued wetting his fingers as he loosened the tight ring. He felt it as Richard relaxed, pressing prickly kisses along his neck and down his covered spine as he moved to rest a hand on his shoulder. He straightened up and took a breath. This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for. What he’d been dreaming of for months. “Relax, Richie.”

Richard trembled as he felt the fingers slide out, leaving his ass feeling stretched and empty. Brown eyes shot wide as something softer pressed against his hole. Looking over his shoulder, he openly moaned at the sight of Hank feeding in his cock. Hank smirked and squeezed his shoulder in reassurance, sharp eyes watching his face like a hawk. He got that Richard wasn’t the chatty type earlier, so the chances of him doing as he was told and speaking up were slim. So far, he seemed alright. His mouth was open, breaths panting as Hank edged his hips back and forth.

Richard settled on his forearms, following the guiding hand on his shoulder. Face down, ass up. The feeling of Hank’s cock stretching his entrance was different from anything else. The burning pain he usually felt was absent, despite his cock being far larger than anything he’d ever taken before. It was almost like Hank understood that as he smirked and moved to rest a hand on his hip, guiding him back a little further. Fuck, he felt so full! It was like his insides were about to burst, only it didn’t hurt.

“There you are.” His ass finally met Hank’s pelvis, and he stopped, taking a deep breath as he caressed his ass and held him close. Richard couldn’t believe it, brown eyes wide as he looked at the hay between his fingers. Hank’s cock was buried in his ass, balls resting snug against his thighs. “Fuck, you’re so tight!” Richard moaned as Hank rubbed his passage, keeping him flush against his pelvis as he circled his hips. He wasn’t sure if it was to loosen him up or make him feel good, but just for an instant, there was a heavenly sensation that made him moan and quiver. “Oh, you like that?” Hank took him in another circle, bringing that same surge of pleasure with it.

“H-Hank...”

“Shh, call me Henry.” Richard shuddered at the invitation, still uncertain as Hank pulled out a little. That uncertainty almost vanished as he pushed back in with a small bump. He paused and circled again, getting another one of those little shudders that made his cock twitch. Richard moaned openly, knuckles white as he gripped the hay. “Fuck, that’s good!” Richard’s ass was warm and tight around his cock, and far looser than when he’d first pushed in. He didn’t push too hard at first, just small rocks that bumped him enough to hit that deep spot.

“H-Henry!” That’s more like it! There was nothing like hearing his real name at a time like this. The sound made him pull out a little more, forcing a much louder moan as he rocked in again. He moved both hands to his ass, pulling his cheeks wide to watch his cock slide in and out. Since Richard wasn’t looking, Hank picked up his phone and took another picture of his pelvis snug against his ass, the base of his cock barely visible where it was buried so deep.

“Fuck, you should see how well you’re taking my cock.” He smirked as the click of the camera made Richard tremble. “Here, take a look at my cock in your ass.” Richard turned his head, partly turned on and partly mortified as Hank showed him the close-up picture. As he looked, Hank rocked in, making him moan loudly. Chuckling, Hank dropped his phone on the bale and slapped his ass, watching the flesh jiggle as Richard yelped. “You ready for that fucking, your highness?” Richard looked aghast as he turned his head. You mean you haven’t started yet? Hank smirked in response, pinging the straps on his thighs before gripping his hips.

“H-Henry-fuck!” It was the roughest thrust he’d ever felt, and that was only the start. Hank held his hips firm as he rocked in again, making his ass bounce against his rounded belly. Richard’s eyes widened as the hands on his hips dragged him back with a firm pull. It was like he was stuck on elastic. The softness of Hank’s stomach catapulted him forward, but those firm hands on his hips immediately yanked him back. A moan huffed out with each breath, and his own hips were soon rocking in time.

“Fuck, I knew it! I knew you’d ride my cock like you ride those horses! Fuck!” Richard couldn’t do anything but whine at the exclamation. It was instinctual as his hips rolled with the bounce, riding in a new saddle. It was almost like he forgot how to talk as he opened his mouth and let out moan after moan, eyes watering as Hank pounded his ass. Along with the slide of his cock came the slap of his balls as they swung between his thighs to knock his own. His cock was dripping, happily bouncing with each hard thrust to slap his pelvis. Richard yelped louder as a hand on his shoulder hauled him up, hands beneath his knees lifting him off the bale and spreading him wide.

“H-Henry-Henry!” Too deep! He’d never felt anything like it. His ass was stretched to breaking point already. Hank’s lips soon found his shoulder as he held him against his chest with his thighs flung wide, bouncing him in his arms like a rag doll. Richard moaned louder, voice echoing around the empty fields and probably audible for miles. Hank cursed against his neck as he turned his head and kissed his cheek. Reaching up, Richard gripped his neck, digging in his nails as he turned to meet his lips. With a satisfied moan, Hank pulled out and came, spilling on the bale in front of them. Richard whined and quivered, left empty and wanting.

“Shhh, hold on, honey. It’s alright.” Hank gently placed him on his knees, away from the sticky smears, and rolled him onto his back. Fuck...Richard looked like he was about to cry as Hank leaned down and kissed his way up his thigh. He wasted no time before latching onto his cock. The release was almost instantaneous. Richard moaned, thighs quivering as Hank surged forward and swallowed around him, greedily accepted his seed as he spilled. The little whines and whimpers continued as he sucked him clean and pulled off, being sure to snap a parting picture of his spent form lying spreadeagled on the bales. Hank sat beside him and leaned against the taller stack behind, both of them panting as they came down.

An awkwardness soon settled between them, the silence barely broken by their heaving breaths. Richard remained on his back with his thighs flung wide, brown eyes gazing up at the glittering night sky with a sense of awe. His shirt was still neat as ever, though now damp with sweat in places, especially beneath his arms and across his back. The breeze cooled his limp cock, hay pricked his ass and thighs, and his whole body felt heavy, still quivering with aftershocks. What the fuck was that? He still wasn’t sure as Hank leaned down to kiss him again, softer this time.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” Richard could barely work up a hum in response, staying where he was as Hank stroked his hair. After a few moments, Hank got to his feet and pulled his pants up before gathering Richard’s clothes. He was gentle as he unclipped the shirt garters and pulled up his pants, leaving the shirt loose as he pulled him to his feet to dress him properly. Richard rested a hand on his shoulder for balance as he stepped into his trousers, taking over and buckling his belt before slipping into the shoes Hank had recovered. As Richard dressed, Hank stacked the bales like before and hoped their misdeed would go unnoticed. Before leaving their spot, he pulled Richard closer to kiss him properly, stroking his soft cheek and holding him against his chest. He was reluctant to draw back, loath to lose that closeness. “Come on, Richie.”

Chapter Text

Richard woke with a groan, turning his face further into the pillows as his stomach churned, along with his memories. He’d like to think that tryst in the field was a dream, but the ache in his hips and dull stretched feeling of his ass told him it wasn’t. A whine of mortification slipped out. What must Hank think of him? Of how he’d whined and moaned, eagerly bouncing his ass on his cock, begging for more. Heat warmed his cheeks as he remembered the pictures Hank had taken and what he might do with them, though he’d always seemed the decent type. He doubted he’d use them for any nefarious purposes. Bile rose in his throat, forcing him from his bed and into the ensuite.

His eyes streamed as he emptied his sensitive stomach, noticing for the first time that it was light outside. That made sense, considering how late he’d gone to bed. Hank had walked him all the way to his door before leaving him with another breathless kiss that reddened his lips. It seemed once was enough for one night, which seemed reasonable at their age. Richard had somehow managed to stumble his way up to bed and out of his clothes, though he was still wearing his socks and garters, along with his boxers.

He groaned as he settled on his ass. The tiles were cold even through his boxers, and his head throbbed as he leaned on the edge of the toilet. He wasn’t sure if he’d throw up again or not, but he didn’t feel like moving yet. Wiping his lips, he squinted at the textured glass. From the brightness outside, he guessed it was late morning or early afternoon, which meant the chickens were overdue their feed. It wouldn’t be fair to leave them much longer, so after a few more minutes, when he was sure his stomach had settled, he moved to the shower.

Washing off the grime of the night before felt good, especially when he realised he had stray bits of hay stuck between his cheeks. He almost blushed as he reached back to finger and tease the tight hole, feeling it twitch at the memory of Hank’s cock. His ass wasn’t the only thing that twitched. With a light huff, he turned the dial cold and gritted his teeth, shivering beneath the icy spray. He was in a low mood as he climbed out and towelled off. How would he face Hank the next time he saw him? The very thought made his insides churn. Just because they’d fucked didn’t mean it meant anything, right? He shivered as he recalled exactly how they’d fucked. His knees still burned from the dry hay, each bounce of Hank’s belly sending him lurching so far forward he would have fallen if not for the bruising grip on his hips.

Seeing Hank again worried him, and that worry only increased as he looked out of his kitchen window and saw Connor in the yard, pacing around in circles like he was waiting for something. His head looked up occasionally, turning to his house like he was looking for him. The thought made Richard swallow. Maybe he was waiting for him. Hank usually joined him at the chicken coop when he went down there, so he was probably waiting for him to feed the chickens. That was no good! How was he going to avoid Hank if Connor was right there to bark and draw attention to his arrival?

Maybe he could sneak in. There was a door inside that led to the garage. He could slip in, fill the feed bucket, run into the coop, toss the feed, and run out again. Hank wouldn’t even notice. By the time he was in his boots and out the door, he could be safely back in his house. With that in mind, Richard padded through to the garage and filled the bucket. To make it quicker, he’d use the back door by the kitchen and run straight down, but he had to make sure the coast was clear first. Looking through the kitchen window, he squinted and looked around for any sign of Hank. It looked like the coast was clear.

Alright...Just get down the steps, open the coop, toss the bucket, and run back. It seemed easy enough in his head. Having hesitated for so long, Richard took one last look through the kitchen window before taking off through the hall and out the back door. The sound of Connor’s barks made his stomach clench as he threw the pen door open and flung the feed across the ground, much to Nines’ indignation. Without further ado, he shut the gate and raced back to the house, slamming the door with a bang and leaning against it. Did he see me? The thought plagued him as he slipped out of his boots and returned to the kitchen.

Looking out, he could see Hank coming across the yard, though it was unclear whether he’d seen him or not. Upon reaching the coop, he laid a hand on Connor’s head and looked up, making Richard’s heart pound as those gentle blue eyes found his kitchen window. Richard dropped like a rock, heart racing as he huddled below the sink. What the fuck am I doing? He couldn’t believe he was hiding. Embarrassment lit his cheeks as he crawled into the hall and sat with his back against the wall. He couldn’t believe it. He’d really crawled on his hands and knees, hiding in his own house, to avoid Hank Anderson.

Unsure what to do with himself, he remained there with his back against the wall. Maybe in a while, he’d be willing to face him. Perhaps in a day or two, when things weren’t so...raw. Stress ate his insides as he sat there staring at the wall opposite, tracing the grain on the wooden panels. Restless and antsy, there was only one thing he could think to do. Riding always made him feel better. Even being near the horses steadied his nerves and calmed him down. With that in mind, he headed out to the stables through the front door. The smell of hay and horses instantly soothed him, making him sigh in relief as he walked along the stalls, petting each horse he came to.

“I know, I’m sorry.” There was a thud on the stall door as the dappled grey mare kicked the wood and bowed her head in agitation. More snorts and whinnies shortly followed as the residents complained. They were usually out in the fields by now, and they hadn’t even had their morning feed. Since they hadn’t scheduled a test run, Allen wasn’t set to arrive until after twelve, which at least told him it was before noon. Gathering the nose bags, Richard filled and fitted them one by one, giving the horses something to munch on as he opened the stalls and got their harnesses ready. “Come on, Cindy-Lue. Good girl.” The first mare to be led out was a soft bay colour with a black mane and tail. She was soft tempered, easily accepting the head harness and following as he led her across the yard, enjoying the affectionate pats on her neck and flank with a swish of her tail.

Having thrown up his last meal and not replaced it with anything, Richard was feeling pretty feeble by the third horse. His arms and legs felt shaky, and he could feel himself paling. The fifth horse seemed to notice it too as she snorted and nosed his chest. He gave the chestnut mare a withering look as he stroked her nose. Horses really were the most wonderful and perceptive creatures. Unfortunately for him, they weren’t the only ones. By the time he returned for the sixth horse, Allen had arrived, and the moment he laid eyes on him, his brow creased. Richard balked as he walked over with his hands on his hips, looking expectant.

“You’re sick.” It was easy to think that, what with the pasty skin and vague trembling.

“I’m not sick, I’m just...hungover.” Richard looked away, doing his best to avoid the scrutiny. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d lied to get out of a lecture. Meeting his steely gaze, Richard huffed and ran a hand through his hair. “I went out with Hank last night.” That piqued his interest even more, making Richard wince as he realised his friend would doubtless ask for more details. It wasn’t every day that Richard Perkins left his house to go drinking with another man. The pink across his neck seemed to give him away as Allen’s worry softened into a smirk.

“Drinking...Really?” The smugness was unbearable as he walked a circle around him, looking him up and down. He couldn’t see any notable marks, but he was wearing jeans and a shirt that was buttoned to the collar. Feeling his scrutiny made Richard squirm. He hadn’t checked, but he didn’t think any marks had been left on his neck, though he knew there were fingerprints on his hips and shoulder, probably his arms as well. His skin bruised easily, and Hank had warned him it would be a good fucking. “Is that all?” Richard didn’t even need to say it out loud. The flinch and evasiveness gave him away. “Good boy!” It was about time he got some.

“Shut up!” Richard punched his shoulder, but Allen did no more than laugh at the feeble impact. “Fuck, what am I going to do? We’re neighbours! I can’t avoid him forever!” If Allen was going to know about it, the least he could do was help him. Allen’s brow furrowed at that, unsure what the problem was. They were both single adults. Why was it such a big deal? So they fucked! What did it matter?

“Why would you avoid him in the first place? It’s just sex.” Allen shrugged nonchalantly, cocking his head as Richard grew even more uncomfortable. “It was just sex, right?”

“I-I don’t know!” He hadn’t had a reliable long-term partner before. How was he supposed to know? How did you even go about asking that sort of thing? Allen sighed at his cluelessness, but waited for him to continue anyway. “We went for dinner, had a few drinks and...you know...” He couldn’t even look at him as he told him. “He fucked me on a stack of hay bales!” Richard winced at the snort that wrought. That was far more daring than the Richard he knew, so he could only imagine Hank had taken the lead there. Well, good for Hank. It was about time someone made his friend loosen up.

“Sounds like sex to me.” If anything, Richard looked even more troubled by that news. “It wasn’t just sex to you?”

“N-no, it was...” He didn’t exactly expect anything more, but he’d never done this sort of thing before. Not with someone he’d see every day, and not with anyone he considered a friend. He hadn’t had time to figure out the sort of relationship he had with Hank. Since they’d had sex, there was definitely a certain level of attraction there, but how deep did it go? How the fuck did we get from worrying over gay roosters to this?

“Are you sure?” The evasiveness in his eyes was enough of an answer to make Allen sigh and run a hand over his eyes. “So, what are you going to do?” That was the problem. He didn’t know what to do! What did people do at times like this? How could he bring it up without it getting weird? Would Hank be receptive to more meetups? Was he interested in more than that? The thought of actually seeing him again churned his stomach and made him gag. The moment he slapped a hand over his mouth, Allen’s firm hand landed on his shoulder. “Maybe you should think about this later. You look like the breeze will knock you over!” He felt like it, too.

Richard had little choice but to go along with it as Allen steered him back to the house, nagging him the whole way across the yard and bundling him inside. He was rather firmly ordered into his pyjamas and bed, and within an hour he was settled on the pillows enjoying a light slumber. It was really no surprise that Allen stuck around the house longer that day, not only seeing to the horses, but seeing to him as well. He cooked a large pot of thick vegetable soup, enough to see him through a few days if he continued to feel ill. It wasn’t unheard of for a hangover to wipe him out for two or three days, and he looked pretty feeble.

At around three o’clock, Allen interrupted his nap to bring in a table tray with a large bowl of soup and crusted bread and butter. A tall glass of water sat on the side, and Allen left another bottle by his bed in case he needed more. Having thrown up, he was probably dehydrated. Sitting him up, Allen lingered, sitting on the edge of the bed with his own bowl of soup to keep him company. Rather than taking him back to Hank, he checked to see if he needed him to stick around or do more over the next day or two.

“A-actually, there is another job...The chickens will need an evening feed, and...” Allen nodded his understanding. Being so feeble, it was reasonable that Richard should stay in bed and rest. With that decided, and their lunch soon finished, Allen left him to get more rest. Unfortunately, since his nap, Richard felt wide awake, and found it quite hard to fall asleep again. Opening the window, he looked down into the yard to see Connor running in circles and the lumbering Saint Bernard lounging on the porch. Hank was also on the porch, though he couldn’t see what he was doing. Hoping he hadn’t been seen, he returned to bed, leaving the window open to enjoy the warm breeze.

Closing his eyes, Richard listened to the sound of the farm. The chickens were clucking softly as they scratched about pecking the dirt, occasionally interrupted by a lively bark as Connor played. In the distance, he could hear the baying of sheep and horses, and trees rustling in the breeze. It was peaceful. Quiet. He sighed softly, enjoying the cool sheets and plush pillows, savouring the warmth of the afternoon sun on his face. Now alone, he let memories of the night before wash over him. Hank was right when he said he’d never been fucked. Nothing else even came close.

The feeling of his tongue in his ass, and the way his fingers had gently pried him open, made his cock hard again just thinking about it. He squirmed on the sheets, biting his lip as he looked towards the door. I can’t just...What if Allen came back? He was probably still in the house somewhere. The sky had dimmed a little since he was sent to bed, and he soon became aware of voices outside. A low sound caught in his throat as he realised it was Hank and Allen. He couldn’t exactly make out the words, but Hank was probably asking why he wasn’t in the coop. With Allen safely outside, Richard slipped a hand beneath the elastic of his pants to palm himself, straining his ears to catch the rumble of Hank’s voice.

He could almost hear it clear as day; the deep grumble, those little nicknames. Biting his lip, Richard did his best to quash the sounds in his throat. If he could hear them, then they’d probably hear him if he slipped up. Opening his mouth, he panted softly, pulling his cock out and slipping a hand up his top as he parted his thighs. He started slow, circling a nipple and thumbing his slick tip. The memory of rough whiskers on his skin made him shiver, fingers tightening on his cock as he jerked himself. He still remembered Hank’s words from the night before, his name hovering on the tip of his tongue. Henry! Gasping a breath, Richard looked towards the open window, quietly pining as he stroked his cock and finally pinched his hardened nipple.

The smallest sound fled his lips, though he dared go no louder than that. It would be embarrassing to have the two of them hear him like this. The thought had him rocking his hips slowly, quietly wondering what would happen if Allen wasn’t there and it was just Hank. What would Hank do if he heard his name fall from his lips in a pitiful whine? If he heard him begging? The thought had him closing his eyes and kicking the sheets lower, trembling as the breeze teased his dripping tip. He couldn’t help himself as he imagined Hank climbing the stairs, boots clunking steadily through the hall until he reached his room and slipped inside.

Surely, the sight of him lying wanton with his legs spread and his cock already dripping would be enough to lure him closer. Breathless kisses and rough hands filled his mind, and how he might tease him. Quietly asking what he wanted when he already knew, fingers teasingly circling his ring until he begged and felt them slide inside. Fuck he wanted it. The thought of Hank giving it to him had him biting his lip to stifle the little moans that threatened to fly out. Henry! Henry-please! He gasped, quickening his pace as he got closer. The memory of his ass stretching around Hank’s cock was almost enough to get him there. How it stroked in all the right places and sank so deep he thought he might burst. He came as he remembered how Hank had lifted him, sinking in to the hilt and holding him wide open, bouncing him on his cock.

“Ah-fuck-” He managed to keep Hank’s name from his lips, but he was pretty sure that wanton sound had carried through the open window. Feeling himself flush, he hurriedly padded to the bathroom to wash his sullied hand. Splashing his face, he returned to the bed, still panting as he listened for any sound outside. The voices were still there, talking as they had before. Maybe they hadn’t heard. That was all he could hope for as he bundled beneath the covers and buried his face in the pillows.

Chapter Text

It had been two days. Two fucking days! And still, Richard hadn’t come down to the coop. Allen had said he might need a day or two to get back on his feet with how sick he was feeling, but Hank had seen him going to the stables the day before. That he was going to the see horses but sending Allen to the coop suggested he was avoiding him. He’d watched him leave his house in the early morning as usual, still waking himself up with a raging hard on. One would think that getting a taste of Richard’s ass would stop these little dreams of his, but if anything, it had made it worse.

Now he actually knew what it felt like to have Richard Perkins on his knees. The feeling of his lips snug around his cock, how his ass squeezed as he sank in to the hilt, how light he felt in his arms when he finally lifted him. He was a lot more flexible than he’d thought, able to part his thighs so wide they were almost fully split, probably from all that riding. The sounds were the worst, imagining those choked up little moans and whines, and hearing his name on his lips. A shiver ran through him every time he thought of the fucked out look on his face, the haze in those dark eyes as he gazed up at him, lips parted, panting for breath.

For the past two days, while trying to catch him at the coop or on his way back from the stables, Hank had rubbed himself raw. He was worse than a teenager, gripping himself in the shower, rutting against his pillows, waking in the middle of the night to palm himself. Why it had to be Richard Perkins, he didn’t know, but his body was hungry for the little ferret, and it would be a lie to say his heart wasn’t following suit. He wouldn’t say he loved the man. He’d barely known him a few months, but he certainly liked him well enough to take things in that direction. Their little date had gone well, if one could call it that. They’d had dinner together, so it sort of counted.

On the third day, Hank finally caught a break. It was Wednesday, and it seemed Allen had some things to do back in the city, so he left early to make it back before the storm rolled in. They were due some serious wind and rain. Not ideal driving conditions. As the sky darkened in the early afternoon, Hank noticed the expensive jeep pulling out of the stables and trundling off back towards the city. That left Richard alone to get the stables ready for the storm, and a fair chance for Hank to confront him.

However, Hank had his fair share of preparations to do, too. Rather than leaving the sheep out in the fields, he had Connor herd them back to be shut in the barn. Although there was a risk of high winds and lightning, they weren’t expecting anything worse. The sheep took up most of the free space in the barn, and he moved his pigs and donkeys into the larger stalls, but there was still some space left over for Gavin and his hens. Although he wasn’t worried about the coop itself, the wind might tear through the pen’s mesh and leave space for unwanted visitors. With Sixty in the barn, he knew his chickens had a much higher chance of survival.

He’d already moved the larger animals and was just getting started on the chickens when Connor started barking. Looking up, with Gavin tucked safely under his arm, he could see Richard hurrying out of the house and down to his coop. It looked like he had a cat carrier in hand, the type he used to take his chickens to the vet. He could only guess Richard was on a similar mission to his own, moving the chickens before the storm. Clever. He’d chosen a time he was busy in order to keep avoiding him. Unfortunately for him, Hank was much faster when it came to moving animals. Having been a farmer all his life, he could easily grab a chicken in each arm and walk them to the barn.

That’s exactly what he did, much to Gavin’s indignation. Rather than taking him across to visit Nines, he was most upset to be dropped off in a small stall in the barn, crowing mournfully at the injustice as Hank returned to the coop. Taking a hen in each arm, he easily made ten trips in the time it took Richard to make three. Richard, being less experienced, had to wrangle his hens one at a time, and stuff two into the small box before carrying them around back to the large storage barn opposite the stables. Nines was still loose in the pen, squawking excitedly as he saw Hank coming, but calming when he noticed Gavin was nowhere to be seen. Richard wasn’t there when Hank arrived at the fence, giving him the chance to take up a relaxed lounging position against the rails, resting his foot on the lower rung.

“I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.” He smirked and folded his arms on the fence, enjoying the way Richard almost stumbled to a halt at the sight of him. Clearly, he’d been hurrying himself along, hoping to continue dodging him. It was almost cute, the way he stammered for an answer. “How’s your stomach? Allen said you weren’t feeling well.” Richard’s dark eyes were predictably evasive as he looked at the ground and passed the carrier from hand to hand. Hank huffed softly, trying not to laugh at the sight.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, I’m…fit as a fiddle.” Hank didn’t doubt it for a second, though he could tell he was nervous. What he didn’t understand was why. Richard was the one who’d made the first move that night, and he’d been more than willing to strip off and bend over for him. Was he having second thoughts? They were both grown men. Surely, they could talk about this like adults. “Just a little sick, you know?” Hank said nothing in response as Richard finally plucked up the courage to walk over to the pen. Finally! Wasting no time, Hank hopped the fence and landed behind him. Richard stiffened at the dull thud of boots on the ground, pausing with his hand on the latch as Hank planted a weathered hand on the door above his head to hold it shut.

“Are you sure you weren’t avoiding me?” Hank asked in a low grumble, using that low rumble he knew made Richard tremble. He didn’t disappoint. A light tremor ran through him as he rested his fingers on the latch, gently teasing the metal as he bit his lip and looked anywhere but over his shoulder. Not getting an answer either way, Hank laid his free hand on Richard’s shoulder and turned him. Richard allowed it, keeping his head down as he leaned back on the fence and bit his lip. As the silence continued, Hank slipped a finger beneath his chin to lift his head, enjoying the pink on his neck and the guilt in his dark eyes. “Having second thoughts?” Richard blinked at the question as if he didn’t understand.

“A-about…that night?”

“About anything.” It wasn’t like they’d made any promises or agreements. They hadn’t even talked about the possibility. Richard stammered into silence again, though his dark eyes didn’t seem regretful, more confused and uncertain. That he hadn’t pushed him off or tried to slip away was promising. As Hank moved closer, still holding his chin, Richard almost seemed to relax into the mesh like he was waiting for him. “I can’t read your mind, Richie. You’re going to have to tell me.” Hank almost purred the words, smirking at how that little nickname made him squirm. It seemed he definitely remembered what had happened that night.

“I don’t regret it.” That was good to hear. It certainly made the next step easier. There was a dull clatter as the empty carrier slipped from Richard’s hand. His fingers moved to grip the mesh of the door as Hank’s knee slipped between his thighs and the hand above his head moved to stroke and tease his waist. There was no resistance as he leaned in, still holding Richard’s chin as he rubbed his whiskers along his lips, making him shiver in anticipation. Barely letting their lips brush, Hank drew back, breaths still mingling as he waited.

“Is that so?” Richard licked his lips, swallowing the lump in his throat as he nodded. He was close to begging already. The only thing stopping him from latching onto Hank was the mesh he was gripping. It almost seemed like Hank knew as he moved to tease his lobe, scratching his whiskers over the sensitive skin. “And what if I want to do it again?” The knee that rocked against his cock left no room for misunderstandings, and the smirk on Hank’s lips was almost predatory as he clocked his arousal. A small whine rumbled in Richard’s throat, and it didn’t get any better as the hand on his waist moved to rub and tease his cock.

“I-I-” A distant rumble of thunder interrupted, reminding them both that there was work to be done. Hank’s animals were safely locked in the barn, but Richard was barely halfway through his chickens. The rolling clouds were dark above their heads, bringing with them a slightly cooler breeze. A warning of what was to come. “T-the chickens. I-I should-” Richard found himself silenced as Hank pinned him to the mesh and gripped the back of his neck as he kissed him. His hands finally left the mesh to fist in Hank’s clothes, one finding his shirt while the other grabbed the thick denim strap of his overalls.

“It’ll be faster with two.” Drawing back, Hank reached around him to unlatch the door and backed him inside, dragging the carrier with his foot. Richard swallowed, meekly nodding as he set about wrangling another two chickens. By the time he had them secure, Hank was already waiting with Nines in one arm and another black hen in the other. Looking out over the fields, they could already see flashes in the distance. It wouldn’t be much longer before the rain started, and maybe an hour before the thunder and lightning reached them.

There was one more chicken and the flock of chicks remaining when they got back. Hank lifted the chicken and waited patiently for Richard to gather the chirping chicks. Like all animals, they could feel the storm coming, and it unsettled them. Luckily, they were a cooperative bunch and huddled in the carrier as they were gathered, probably too scared to move with all the wind and distant rumbling. After that, Richard moved the eggs and placed them carefully in the thick layer of hay scattered on the stall floor. It didn’t take long for the hens to bustle in to warm them, huddling together and lowering their heads against the noise outside.

In the stables, the horses were also restless, whinnying and kicking their doors as they sensed Richard’s approach. Done with the chickens, and with the barn now locked, Richard took one last look around the stables. He’d fed and watered the horses already, leaving a generous pile of hay for during the night, and dressing each in a padded coat. Once the outer door was shut, the lightning wouldn’t bother them too much and the weather would be slightly muffled, aside from the rattling doors. Hank watched as he moved along the stalls, stroking noses and murmuring assurances. A couple of the more skittish horses were fitted with cotton hoods to cover their eyes, keeping them calm throughout the storm.

“See you in the morning.” With that final grumble, Richard closed the wooden door and bolted it, securing the lock with a heavy padlock to make sure the wind didn’t somehow blow it open. He seemed reluctant to leave, giving the padlock a final tug to be sure. Hank wasn’t sure if he was worried about the horses or reluctant to turn around and face him. Maybe a combination of both. Being sensitive, Hank moved in to rest his hands on his hips, soothing the jutting bones with gentle fingers.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be fine.” Richard was sure Hank was right, but he couldn’t help being nervous. Their legs were delicate, so if one of them grew agitated and kicked their stall hard enough, it might cause an injury. An injury like that could prove fatal, or at the very least end their career, costing him a small fortune. It wasn’t like he’d have the heart to just put them down or sell them off to an abattoir, either. He’d never been good at the crueller side of the business. It was one of the things he wanted to change, maybe by opening a school or at least finding good owners for retired and lamed horses. Having only just opened, his current residents were all in perfect health, and he aimed to keep it that way. “Come on…The rain will start soon.”

The words had no sooner left Hank’s lips than there was a cold splash on Richard’s shoulder, quickly followed by another. Hank cursed softly as he grabbed his slim wrist and pulled him across the yard. Richard stumbled to keep up, something light bubbling up through his stomach until it burst from his lips as a loud laugh. He could hear Hank chortling, too. Perhaps it was the timing of his words with the storm’s arrival, or maybe the thrill of running across the yard in the increasingly heavy downpour. Whatever the case, they were still laughing as they rounded the corner and ran up to Richard’s back door, where there was a small overhang.

Richard doubled over and wiped his dripping forehead, looking up as Hank gave a loud guffaw. He was standing with his hands on his large hips, looking out at his own property, where Connor and Sumo were jumping and tumbling across the yard. It seemed like they were very much enjoying the rain, probably cooling off from the earlier heat. As Sumo hunkered down and raised his tail, Connor shot off in a large circle around the yard, a blur of black and white until he heard Hank’s voice. Realising their master had returned, both dogs woofed and jumped at the fence, panting and wagging their wet tails.

“I should get these two in for the night.” What he wanted to do was take Richard with him. Strip him out of that wet shirt, towel off his dripping hair, warm him in his bed. However, with his fear of dogs, that was out of the question. Maybe on another day he’d try introducing him. Sumo would be the better choice for a first meeting, being the older, lazier dog. He was less likely to jump up and scare him. There was something a little stiff in Richard’s smile as he straightened up and nodded. With the storm rolling in, Hank would probably be busy keeping his dogs under control, though so far, the pair seemed unbothered by the rolling thunder, still happily wagging their tails.

“Sure. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” That seemed to be it as Hank nodded and finally caught his breath, hair dripping on his shoulders. He was just about to head across to get the dogs in when Richard’s hand on his sleeve caught him. “I-uhm…If you need anything…” The sentence was left hanging, but Hank got the message. If he needed anything in the night, he was welcome to come back. Did anything extend to feeling his ass around his cock? There was something coy and uncertain in his dark eyes as Hank took his chin again.

“I might just take you up on that…” With a last searching look, Hank left him with a bristled kiss on his lips and hurried across the yard. Richard watched, flustered as he hopped the fence and whistled. The shrill sound sent Connor zipping in zigzags across the wet yard, making a beeline for the house. Richard stayed at the door, watching the rain even after Hank had gone inside. There was an eerie stillness in the rain, the pattering sound blocking anything else. It was humid, making his shirt cling even more. With the heavy black clouds came a darkness unbefitting the time of day. There should still be a few hours of daylight left, but the light in Hank’s living room shone clearly in the dimness. A loud crack made him flinch, hurrying him inside to change out of his wet clothes.

Chapter Text

Fuck! Stupid-stupid! What kind of offer was that? If you need anything? He cringed again at the memory, as he had been for the past half-hour since coming inside. After warming up in the shower, he’d dressed in some comfortable cotton pyjamas and slipped on his robe and slippers. Some might think he looked like he’d stepped out of the nineteen-fifties, but he was warm and comfortable, so who was the real winner? It wasn’t like anyone would see him anyway. Unless Hank comes over...He was probably joking. What could he possibly need in the middle of a storm? Those mutts would probably go crazy with the weather, too. His father’s dogs always had. Barking, snarling, careening around the grounds. A crack of thunder made him flinch.

Heading downstairs, he paused by the door. Hank said he might come over. It was unlikely, probably one of those odd niceties, but just in case, Richard unlocked the door. It wasn’t like anyone else would drive out there in the middle of a storm, and it was even rarer for thieves to visit when the residents were home. With the door on the latch, Richard padded through to the kitchen and brewed some tea, meticulously setting up his teapot and spooning in the leaves. It was dark outside now, barely anything visible with all the water running down the glass. His own reflection stared back at him, scaring him half to death as the thunder cracked.

Having not lived anywhere quite this flat and open before, the sound of the wind whistling through fields unsettled him somewhat, especially when coupled with the rain lashing his windows and the thunder rumbling overhead. The lightning would have made it worse, but the lights in the kitchen mostly kept that at bay, though he occasionally got a look at the trees leaning in the wind as flashes lit the yard. If he didn’t know better, he’d think a tornado was about to roll in, or a hurricane. Knowing it was just a bad storm, Richard poured himself a cup of black tea and wandered through to the living room, where he sat in one of the large wingback chairs by the empty fireplace and read his newspaper. Allen had dropped it off earlier, along with a few extra items to get him through the bad weather if it lasted longer than a day.

He’d been settled maybe half an hour when the lights overhead started to blink. That was something he hadn’t taken into account. Although he knew to keep electronics like the computer turned off and unplugged during a severe storm like this, he hadn’t thought about the lights going out. Cursing under his breath, he hurried through to the kitchen and checked under the sink. Allen, forward thinking as ever, had left him a stock of thick pillar candles about three inches thick. The type that could stand on their own and made little to no mess with the right dish. His heart about leapt into his throat as a loud crack rumbled through the house and the lights blinked out, shortly joined by a blinding flash that lit the yard.

Christ! He hadn’t been in a storm this bad for years, and even then he’d been in town, sheltered by other houses with neighbours close by. There was Hank, of course, but nothing but empty land surrounded their homes. His heart thudded as he lit the candle and put it on a side plate. It was probably early, but with little else to do in the darkness, Richard headed up to the bedroom and bundled beneath the covers. Despite his nerves, there was something awe-inspiring about watching the rolling clouds through the window and tracing the bright zigzags across the sky. Mercifully, the lightning seemed content to remain within the clouds. At least, he didn’t hear anything striking the ground.

With the roar of the wind and the flicker of the candle on his bedside, it didn’t take long for him to nod off. Rolling on his side, he curled up and buried his face in the pillow, feet twitching in contentment until he fell asleep. He had no idea how long it was before he was gently roused, but he knew he was no longer alone. There was a definite dip in the bed behind him; a warmer, larger presence pressing up behind. A gasp slipped from his tired lips, still mostly asleep as he nudged his hips into the hand gripping his cock. Leaning back against the soft chest, bristled whiskers immediately latched onto his bare neck. A moan slipped out, his hand blindly reaching back to rest on a rough, denim clad hip as pleasure roiled in his pelvis.

“What were you thinking, Richie? Going to bed and leaving the front door unlocked...Anyone could sneak in. And sleeping with a lit candle on your bedside, really? It’s a wonder you survived this long on your own.” As he came to a little more, he could feel that his shirt had been unbuttoned, and his bottoms were currently around his ass, giving Hank enough room to tease and jerk his cock. The candle was still lit, about a quarter burned, and the rain was still lashing the windows with the odd flash of lightning. “Was this what you were hoping for? For someone to come creeping into your room in the middle of the night?” The twitch of the cock in his hand was almost answer enough. Richard squirmed and gasped as he squeezed, rocking further into his touch.

“Y-you said you might come over.” Another gasp cut him off, fingers digging in Hank’s thigh and clawing the denim as he whined. He finally opened his tired eyes, blinking away the sleep in the flickering light as he turned his head and openly moaned at the sight of Hank leaning over his shoulder. He was rugged as ever, silver hair tousled by the wind from the run over. His thick plaid shirt had been unbuttoned, rounded belly flush against his spine. The words seemed to please Hank as he leaned in to nip his lobe, breath hot on his ear as he lingered.

“And is this what you wanted?” A choked sound slipped out as the hand left his cock to fondle his balls instead, cupping and rolling in encouragement. Richard could barely do more than give a meek nod, glad for the low lighting as his skin heated. With a low curse, Hank’s lips returned to his neck, body pressing closer as he pushed the pants further down his legs. Richard shuddered, working to rid himself of the material and free his legs for Hank’s rough hands. Another curse rumbled in his ear, making him whine as Hank cocked a knee and hooked one of his legs over it, spreading him wide. “Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this for days.” The confession made Richard shiver, spine arching to grind his bare ass on Hank’s jeans as the hand returned to his cock. He could feel a hard bulge trapped in the material and whined louder as it teased his ass.

“H-Henry.” The quiet murmur made Hank growl, teeth biting his shoulder in approval as he leaned over and squeezed his cock. Richard shuddered as he felt Hank grinding his bare ass, rubbing the denim firmly to let him feel his cock. A hand gripped his hair as he rubbed back, plainly telling him he understood and approved.

“Fuck, come here, Richie.” Richard followed the hand that moved to his shoulder and turned over, immediately burying himself in Hank’s chest. They kissed slowly, Hank growling as Richard’s thigh hooked over his hip. Gentle fingers pushed the shirt off his shoulders, more clothes soon lost in the sheets. Hank drew back, propping himself on one arm to enjoy the sight of Richard’s naked body in the flickering light. It was almost cute, the way he flinched when a fresh bout of thunder and lightning arrived. Hank hushed him softly, caressing his cheek and running his thumb along his bottom lip before pressing it inside. Richard’s dark eyes blinked open at first, teeth brushing the knuckle in surprise until his lips closed around it and he sucked. “That’s good.”

Stroking up and down his body, savouring the soft fuzz on his palm, Hank shuffled his way to the edge of the bed and pulled Richard after him. His lips were good and wet by the time he peeled his hand away to leave him whining at the loss. Hank chuckled softly as Richard got his bearings, now lying sideways on the bed with his head right at the edge, staring up as Hank stood over him with a hand on his waistband. It seemed he got the idea as he licked his lips and shuffled even higher, just the right place to dangle his head over the edge. Hank chuckled as he popped the button of his jeans, openly smirking at the way Richard squirmed, cock swaying at the sight.

“What do you think? Think you can take it?” Whether or not he could take it was irrelevant at that particular moment. He wanted it. That’s all that mattered. Hank’s low chuckle seemed to tell him he understood as he pulled his zipper down and shucked his pants enough to let his cock spring free. Having not seen it in three days, Richard had forgotten how big it was. The girth would barely let him close his hand around it, and he could have fisted it twice. He whined softly as Hank gripped himself, giving a few slow tugs so he could get a good look at what would soon be buried in his gullet. “You want this?” Richard nodded, making Hank chortle as he leaned lower and ran the tip across his needy lips.

Richard stuck his tongue out at the first pass, panting softly as Hank rubbed back and forth on his tongue before gripping his cock and slapping his cheek. A sticky smear marred the soft skin, making him moan as he reached up to grab Hank’s thigh. Lifting himself, he ran his tongue along the underside of his cock from tip to base before licking higher to get at his balls. Hank cursed softly, gently cupping the back of his neck for support as he licked and kissed the swaying sack. He could barely fit them in his mouth, gently licking and sucking them one by one. Wiry hair tickled his nose as he nuzzled closer, closing his eyes and ducking his head, working his tongue until he pulled off with panting breaths.

“Fuck, Richie...” Richard savoured the low grumble as he lowered himself to the mattress, parting his lips and licking Hank’s cock as he leaned lower. His lips wrapped around the tip, tongue licking and teasing the slit as Hank pushed in. His mouth felt impossibly full and stretched already, and the tip was barely brushing his teeth. “That’s it, honey. Relax for me.” He shuddered as a large hand pushed his chin further up, weathered fingered stroking his neck all the way down to his Adam’s apple and back.

Richard did as he was told, letting his head hang over the edge of the bed and gripping Hank’s thighs as his cock slowly inched forward. It was a little hard to get his breathing right. Breathing in at the wrong time would choke him, and Hank did his best to measure his thrusts. He moved slowly, barely three inches deep. Bending his knees, he gripped the edge of the bed, centring his weight so he could snap his hips. He managed to push about halfway in before Richard gagged and spluttered around him, making him pull off so he could roll over and cough into the sheets.

“You alright, honey? Here, have some water.” When Hank had brought the water, Richard didn’t know, but he did as he was told as he pushed up and accepted the glass. “Try to keep your throat open, alright? I’m trying not to choke you here.” Richard nodded as he handed the glass back and settled in place, greedily accepting Hank’s cock in his mouth as he dangled his head over the edge of the bed again. Hank moaned low in his throat as he rocked in two-thirds.

It seemed a little water was just the trick. Richard’s throat was warm and wet, wrapping round him like a Fleshlight as he rocked his hips. Timing his thrusts with Richard’s breaths, feeling warm huffs on his balls with each thrust, Hank was soon buried to the hilt. He moaned at the sight, quietly wishing he’d brought his phone as he watched his cock bulging in Richard’s throat. As he rested his hand on his neck, he could feel it filing out with each slow snap. Richard bent his knees and planted his heels on the mattress, squirming and rocking with each thrust.

“Keep it down, boy...Swallow around it.” Richard whined and squirmed as Hank sank in to the hilt and held himself there, smirking as he felt him choke around him. Richard did his best to obey, throat flexing with each swallow, muscles rippling up and down Hank’s cock as he stroked his throat. Pulling out, Hank stepped back as Richard pushed himself up, gasping and spluttering. He didn’t even catch his breath before he was on his knees at the edge of the bed to paw Hank’s chest and pull him down. Hank accepted the arms around his neck, leaning in to prickle his lips with gentle kisses and lay him on the sheets.

Grabby little hands clawed at his jeans, tugging them lower until he could kick them off. It seemed Richard didn’t like being the only one laid bare. The moment his pants were gone, slim legs hooked around his wider hips, cocks brushing and grinding. Richard squirmed and whined, kissing along his whiskered jaw to nip his neck and whimper in his ear. Hank cursed at the needy sounds, burying his head in his shoulder and stroking his arched spine. His skin was so soft, untouched by harsh weather and outdoor work. Even that pert little ass was soft as he gripped it in his hands, growling at the thought of sinking into it. That would be a much easier feat this time around.

“Come on. On your knees, pretty boy.” Richard clung to him, reluctant to roll over as he attacked his lips. Hank allowed it for a while, stroking his hair and pressing him into the mattress as he pushed himself up. Prying his legs off, he finally managed to turn him over to get at his ass, huffing and pulling him to his knees while shoving his head down. “That’s it, stay nice and still now...” Richard gripped the sheets and did as he was told, looking over his shoulder and holding his ass up. It was sort of romantic with the flickering candlelight on the walls.

“Henry!” He trembled beautifully as he was pried open, just as self-conscious as before as he turned his head to watch him. He looked mortified as Hank parted his cheeks and stared at his puckered entrance. Hank didn’t waste time, eager to get him prepped and ready. “Fuck-I-hngh!” If Richard was swearing, he was definitely doing something right. He made a second pass, licking over the tight ring and lingering to circle the twitching muscle. Richard whined again, panting into the sheets and holding himself on quivering knees.

“That’s it, honey...Stay still now.” Hank grabbed the small tube he’d tossed on the bed earlier and popped the cap. It would be a lie to say he’d had it at home already. He’d gone into town the day after their little tryst to pick some up, knowing it would make things easier the next time he got him on his knees. Even while waiting, he’d had no real doubt it would happen again. Richard’s eagerness that night had been telling, much like his own midnight boners. The little ferret was gagging for it. The sound of squeezing gel caught Richard’s interest as he turned his head, dark eyes soft and lazy as he watched Hank coat his fingers and hold them up with a smirk. He knew where those fingers were going as he shuffled his thighs wider and arched his spine, too.

The first press had him keening. A high, whining moan that cut off in a whimper with the next clap of thunder. Hank used his free hand to steady and soothe his hip. He didn’t think he was scared of the storm, not really, but he was certainly skittish and prone to shocks and startles. Hank pushed and twisted his finger in Richard’s passage, quickly working him up to two. The slide was much easier with the thick coating of gel, with none of the flinching pain from before. If anything, Richard’s ass was bucking more, eager to suck him down to the third knuckle.

Hank was thorough this time, coating his fingers again and adding a third to tug and stretch the tight hole. He remembered the sharp hiss he’d let out before. The way his body had tensed, and he hadn’t said anything. This time was different. With the extra slick, he didn’t even seem to notice the third finger pressing in, holding himself on his forearms and whining as he pushed back for more. Fuck, it would be easy to sink in from this angle and give him another hard fucking, but Hank had other plans. Plans that involved Richard bouncing on his cock. Keeping his fingers deep, Hank laced a hand in his hair and pulled him up to rest on his knees.

“What do you think, Richie? Ready to ride in a new saddle?” Hank moaned out loud as Richard nodded, brown eyes soft and lustful as he squirmed on his fingers. Chuckling low in his throat, Hank patted his ass and removed his fingers. “Attaboy.” Richard watched, cock dripping and swaying as Hank settled on the pillows and got more gel to slick himself. He shuddered as he watched him stroke himself, blue eyes hungry as he watched and waited. “Well? Climb on up here.” Hank patted his rounded belly for emphasis, smirking smugly as Richard crawled over like an obedient dog and clambered on.

He didn’t go in for the kill right away, enjoying the stretched feeling of straddling Hank’s hips. His body was burly, all firm flesh and raw muscle covered by a soft layer of fat. He wasn’t unhealthy, just large. It seemed Hank was feeling soft and lazy as well, as he guided him up to his lips and stroked his back before returning his fingers to their former place, keeping him stretched and ready. Richard was greedy, drunk on kisses by the time Hank finally pulled him back with a gruff chuckle, almost smirking as he slapped his slick cock on his bare ass.

“Ready to ride?” Richard looked a little embarrassed as he pushed himself to his knees, clearly unused to being in this position. Hank helped loosen him up, stroking his thigh and guiding him down to the tip of his cock, which he slowly lined up and teased against the twitching ring. Richard gasped, almost hissing as the tip breached his entrance. Hank stopped, blue eyes wary as he watched for a sign it hurt. Taking a series of deep breaths, Richard arched his spine and slowly dropped, guided by Hank the whole way. “Use your words, Richie.” He was going to have to say something if it hurt.

“F-full!” It was a choked up exclamation, one that made Hank pause as Richard reached back to rest his hands on his large thighs. His ass was stretched so wide he thought it might tear if Hank moved, but it didn’t hurt. Not like before. Not like back then. Closing his eyes, Richard shivered in bliss, his own cock twitching as Hank teased and caressed his thighs. When a warm hand wrapped around him, Richard thought he might come then and there. It seemed Hank understood as he let him go and swapped to stroking his balls instead.

“Does it hurt?” Richard shook his head, though he was still reluctant to move. Hank smirked at that, hands moving to grip his slim hips. “Good.” Planting his feet, he rocked up, enjoying the surprised moan that fled Richard’s lips as their bodies met. The bounce of his pelvis almost knocked him off, but Richard soon regained his balance, leaning back to grip Hank’s knees as he dropped to meet him again. "Oh-fuck, that’s it, Richie! Moan for me, fuck!” Richard had no trouble obeying that order. Each snap of Hank’s hips had him bouncing on his pelvis, greedily accepting the cock in his ass and moaning with each clap of flesh.

Hank gripped his hips, guiding him in circles as he rocked. Each snap sent a jolt through his body, making him pant and moan, thrumming with pleasure. He leaned back further, moaning as Hank’s cock dragged along his inner walls. His own cock bounced and dripped, slapping his pelvis with each firm thrust. He moaned louder as Hank moved to grab and squeeze it, thumbing the tip and licking the pearly droplets. A curse slipped out as Hank moved faster, and he shivered as lightning lit the window. He was about ready to burst as Hank’s hand returned to stroke his cock, encouraging him to bounce and grind.

“Fuck, inside or out?” Richard didn’t even know how to answer that. He felt so good he couldn’t even decipher the question. Was he planning to pick him up and fuck him through the window or something? “If you don’t answer, I’m going to-” Cursing under his breath, Hank increased the pace, apparently making the choice for him as he pulled him down. Richard moaned loudly, eyes wide as he squirmed, filled to the hilt as Hank spilled. He shuddered at the warmth, feeling his own cock twitch and drip at the realisation of what Hank had just done. Seeing he wasn’t done, Hank strained to keep it up, grinding in circles and pumping Richard’s cock until he finished, white streams splattering his pelvis. “Fuck! Turn around and let me look at you.”

Richard was shaky as he let Hank help him off and all but fell to his buckling knees. He followed the guiding hands as Hank manoeuvred him around, and shuddered as he pulled his cheeks wide and stared. Hank cursed softly, squeezing his cheeks and stroking as he watched his release trickle out of the twitching hole. The warm leaking feeling made Richard shudder and bury his face in the sheets, barely bringing himself to look over his shoulder. The hungry look on Hank’s face as he watched almost had his cock twitching again. It seemed Hank understood his need for reassurance as he finally tore his eyes away long enough to look at his face.

“Fuck, you’re a pretty sight, you know that?” Richard was quite certain that the sight of his leaking asshole was anything but pretty, but he appreciated the sentiment all the same. “You want to clean up, don’t you?” His distaste was obvious, and Hank couldn’t say he blamed him. His wife had been the same. She’d always hated the leaky feeling that came after sex, barely waiting more than a minute before she was off the bed and into the bathroom.

“Is it that obvious?” Hank chuckled as he got up, patting Richard’s ass and leaning across to grab the candle. The electricity had gone out hours ago, which was one of the reasons he’d come over. Sumo and Connor were happily settled in their beds, paying no mind to the wind and rain as they snoozed. With the three of them so cosy, he couldn’t help thinking of Richard across the way all alone, especially without the lights. It surprised him he was even prepared enough to have a candle, though finding him fast asleep with the candle flickering on his bedside was less than reassuring. It probably wasn’t too much of an issue, safely standing in the middle of the small table, but accidents could happen.

“The power’s still out, so the water will be cold...Maybe just use a cloth to clean up for now,” Hank advised as he tried the lights, unsurprised to find them dead. If they were lucky, tripping the generators after the storm would reset everything, but if they were unlucky, the power-lines were down and they’d have to wait for repairmen. That could take days or even weeks at the rate those city folks looked out for them. Richard nodded as he grabbed a flannel and joined him at the sink, clearly mortified as Hank plucked the cloth from his hand. He watched as he wiped his chest and belly clean, smirking all the while as he rinsed the cloth and leaned in to kiss him. “Bend over for me, honey.” The pet name made him balk, and he swore his cheeks had darkened a shade as he followed the guiding hand on his neck and bent over the sink.

Hank was gentle as he pried his checks apart and wiped up the creamy smears, thumbing around the hole to encourage the trickle. Richard twitched and buried his face with a quiet whine, biting his lip at the thought of Hank sliding in again. It was almost like Hank heard him as he teased and fingered the rim, tugging and pulling before wiping it clean again. Rinsing off the cloth, he gave him a final wipe and patted his ass again, encouraging him up and backing him into the counter. Richard whined softly, looping his arms around Hank’s shoulders and ignoring the cold counter on his ass.

“Fuck, you running on Duracell? We only just finished!” Hank teased as he felt Richard’s cock give a dull twitch. The fist on his shoulder drew a hearty chuckle as Hank pulled him closer. Richard yelped as he was lifted, automatically wrapping his arms and legs around Hank’s burly body as he was carried back to bed and laid on the sheets. Rather than teasing, Hank lay beside him and pulled up the covers, kissing and stroking until he’d taken his fill. There was plenty of time left; an entire night of howling wind and rolling thunder.

Chapter Text

Richard sat up with a quiet grumble and rubbed his tired eyes. It was still dark, and he knew without looking that it was the usual time he went to clear the fields and see to the horses. His body was pretty much on a set clock. Besides that morning he woke up feeling hungover, he always got up at around four. Usually an alarm would go off to confirm the time, but as he looked at the clock on his bedside, it was dark. That made sense, what with the storm causing a power outage. It also confirmed the power was still off. Power or not, the horses wouldn’t feed themselves. With that in mind, he threw off the covers, careless of his nakedness as he swung his legs off the bed to get up.

“And where do you think you going?” His feet didn’t even touch the floor before he was falling back against a soft fuzzy chest with brawny arms locked around his waist. Rough whiskers rubbed up and down his shoulder, lips pressing gentle kisses across the skin. Richard hummed and quivered, closing his tired eyes and tilting his head for more. Hank obliged the silent request, prickling his neck and sending tingles across the pale skin.

“To feed the horses.” Richard bit his lip, a needy whine trapped in his throat as Hank’s body pressed in behind. Just as Richard was used to waking up to see to the horses, Hank was used to waking at this time sporting a boner. That morning was no different, and Hank had no qualms about letting Richard feel it as he nestled his pert ass against his pelvis. It was a wonder his body could keep it up, considering the night before. “I-I always get up at this time.” Hank didn’t voice his agreement. There was no need to let Richard know how often he’d watched him leave the house and stride across the yard in the early hours.

“Are you crazy? It’s pouring rain out there!” Richard followed Hank’s gaze as he nodded towards the window and saw that he was right. Although the thunder and lightning had moved on in the night, the rain remained. “You’ll catch a death out there...” His tone was soft, almost coaxing him into compliance as he stroked his abs and pecs, lingering to rub and tease his nipples along the way. Richard squirmed, feeling pliant and relaxed in Hank’s wandering hands. His body was warm against his back, their skin sticking slightly in the heat from the duvet.

“I-I guess it could wait.” Hank was right about the rain, and it’s not like the horses would be going out in the fields that day. It would be too boggy for a day or two, but he’d still walk them around the yard to give them a little exercise, weather dependant. They also wouldn’t starve if he left it a little longer. He’d left plenty of hay for them, knowing the storm might slow things down a little. The chickens were also safely stowed in the barn, and they weren’t usually fed until almost ten thirty most days. “The rain might ease off in a little while.” A rumble of agreement purred against his ear and a hand slid down to caress his thigh all the way to the knee.

“Attaboy.” Richard trembled at the gentle praise, gasping as his leg was lifted and a thick thigh slipped beneath to hold him open. It didn’t take much to get his cock twitching. He was surprised either of them had the energy after last night, and he doubted he’d be able to stretch around Hank’s cock again so soon. He considered saying as much as Hank’s wandering hand slipped between them to stroke along his perineum and cup his balls, rolling gently and making him squirm. “How are you feeling?” It was like Hank read his mind as he stroked further back to run a fingertip over his tender ring. It wasn’t exactly sore, but it was a little uncomfortable. “Painful?”

“N-not really.” That didn’t mean it felt good though. Luckily, Hank was perceptive and noted the way his body stiffened and heard the small hiss that slipped between his teeth. The hand returned to his balls, rolling and caressing before reaching higher to palm and tease his twitching cock. He wasn’t hard yet, but the interest was clearly there.

“You need to talk more,” Hank teased as he kissed his way up and down his neck to nip his lobe. “If you don’t tell me, then I won’t know if I’m hurting you.” Richard nodded, slightly apprehensive as he felt Hank’s girth prod his ass. A hum rumbled in his ear, but he made no effort to line himself up. He seemed content stroking and teasing him for now. Richard nestled closer, quietly enjoying the feel of Hank’s larger body grinding and rocking along his back. Turning his face, he moaned softly, enjoying Hank’s whiskers on his lips as they kissed and lacing a hand in his thick hair to pull him closer. “Do you mind getting a little messy?” Richard shook his head, curious as Hank blindly reached over to the small side table.

His hand returned, holding a tube of gel. The same gel he’d used to slick his ass the night before. Still propping his thighs open, Hank used one hand to squeeze out some gel and reached between them to coat his inner thighs. It was a little cold at first, making him twitch and squirm, especially as those fingers returned to tease his perineum. A chuckle rumbled in his ear, whiskers tickling his neck as Hank nipped his shoulder and encouraged him to rock against his slick fingers. Richard wasn’t sure why he’d been slicked at first, not until Hank’s cock nudged along his ass and nestled itself between his thighs.

“Keep those pretty thighs together, Richie.” Hank lowered his thigh and Richard did as he was told, not quite clenching as Hank grunted and pulled him snug against his pelvis. It was a little weird, having Hank’s cock snug between his thighs and feeling it rubbing back and forth with a slick glide. It dragged along, barely brushing his perineum each time, the tip gently nudging his balls. Hank grunted softly, spooning and rocking against him to take his fill. It didn’t take long for a weathered hand to find his cock, thumb swirling and pressing the tip as if milking him.

Richard whined softly, unsure what to do from this position. He didn’t want to risk moving in the wrong direction and making Hank’s cock slip free, and lying on his side made it hard to rock his hips. Playing it safe, he tried to keep his body firm, holding his thighs together and keeping his ass ripe for Hank’s pelvis to clap against. He wasn’t sure if Hank approved, but he certainly heard no complaints as the older man panted and moaned in his ear. Gradually rolling a little further forward, Richard had room to brace an arm in the sheets and lift his hip. The new rocking motion seemed to please Hank even more as he gripped and squeezed his cock.

“Oh-fuck, that’s good, Richie. That’s good.” The praise made him shudder, prompting him to buck his hips a little harder. It felt good, having Hank’s cock caressing his thighs and nudging his balls. That alone probably wouldn’t get him off, but Hank’s hand pumping his cock would certainly do the trick. Richard moaned his approval as Hank leaned against his back and snapped his hips, huffing and grunting against his shoulder. It didn’t take long for that budding pleasure to peak and surge through his body, making him spill with a whimper. Despite his body quivering, he still kept his thighs nice and tight, holding on until Hank’s seed smeared his skin. His thighs and balls felt sticky as Hank peeled away, both wordlessly agreeing to clean up and start their day.

While Richard stayed in the bathroom a little longer to clean off properly and brush his teeth, Hank stripped the bed and redressed. With the power out, it was still too cold to shower, so Richard settled for a cloth bath, shivering and gasping from the cold on his skin as he wiped his sticky body. His cock and balls were especially sensitive as he washed up, making him hiss and grumble. It was still quite grey outside, though the light of day had started creeping in. It was barely five o’clock when they headed downstairs for breakfast. The power outage also meant the Aga stood cold, and without the oven, there was little he had to offer besides water, bread, cold soup, and fruit. They settled on jam sandwiches and apples with glasses of milk to make sure it didn’t go to waste. It needed to be used up with the fridge rapidly warming. Luckily, Richard didn’t keep much that would spoil, but if Hank didn’t get his freezers on again soon, he’d lose the hefty load of meat he kept stored throughout the year.

By the time they finished breakfast, still sometime before six, the rain had let up enough for Hank to lead the way out to the generator. Having never tripped his generator before, Hank was kind enough to show him where it was and which switches to flip. The generator was kept in a metal hamper near the end of the house, just around the corner from the kitchen. They were both relieved to see the lights flick on once the mains switch was tripped. It seemed the storm had just overloaded things slightly. With that done, Hank excused himself to restart his own generator and get ready for the day, but not before backing Richard up against the wall and kissing him senseless. Needy hands fisted in his shirt and pulled him closer as he returned the kiss. He was panting and breathless by the time Hank drew back.

“I’ll see you later.” With that grumbled promise, Hank took his umbrella and hopped the fence to his own yard. Richard watched him leave before shaking it off and heading out to the stables. The horses were quiet as he opened the outer door. They’d probably been awake most of the night with the rumbling thunder and wind rattling the door. He greeted them kindly, heading down the line, petting noses and removing hoods. A lot of the hay had been eaten, so Richard filled nosebags with feed and dutifully replenished the large hay racks. With the rain still falling, and the fields a boggy mess, they’d remain stabled for the day.

Once he’d finished with the horses, finding them all uninjured and in good tempers, he circled back to the coop to check on the pen. Despite the wind, the mesh had weathered the storm. He went around with the hammer, checking the pins and knocking them down where they’d lifted, but the whole thing seemed relatively untouched. There were no gaps, the roof was still on, and the wooden coop was secure. With everything in order, Richard filled the feed trough and headed to the barn to begin the arduous task of transporting his chickens.

“Morning ladies, Nines, I’ve just checked the-” His heart about stopped as he took in the scattered feathers and blood around the outside of the stall. His greeting seemed to have roused whatever remained in the stall. Various squawks and screeches reached his ears as he ran over from the large outer doors to open the stall door. “Nines? What ha-Hey!” He almost fell over backwards as something large and brown darted by. He didn’t even think before giving chase, leaving the barn doors wide open as the dirty fox streaked through the stables. “Get back here!” Richard’s heart was still racing, barely able to believe it as the fox skittered around the edge of his house with a limp chicken clutched it its jaws. Richard couldn’t tell which chicken it was. It might have been Nines or any of his hens. Blood dripped on the ground as the fox ran, easily hopping through the slats of his fence and on to Hank’s property. “No! You get back here!” Richard was almost in tears, feeling helpless as he clambered to the top of the fence.

It was a futile effort. By the time he’d reached the top rung, the beast was already halfway across Hank’s yard, black feathers scattering as it ran. That’s about the time he remembered the dogs and stopped dead, trembling in fear at the thought of them seeing him in the yard. If the fox had shared his caution, it might have found a safer route. As it was, a bark so loud it was almost a roar had Richard stumbling back as a blur of black and white streaked across the yard towards the fox, which was now running for its life. Getting in front, Connor blocked off the fox and growled, baring his teeth and hunkering down. The fox backed up, ears and tail low as it looked for a way it might get around him. All it needed was an opening to get into the field beyond and it would be safe.

“What’s going on out here?” Hank’s voice groused from further up the yard, where he was walking along with two of his own chickens in his arms. The words had no sooner left his lips than Connor pounced, gnashing and snarling. The fox dropped its prize for now, scratching and nipping at Connor as he attacked. It seemed Connor was fairly experienced in dealing with predators, automatically aiming for the neck as he snapped and barked. “Shit, Sixty!” With a loud whistle, a blur of white fur appeared, snarling and barking as it careened across the yard.

Richard stood horrified, transfixed as the huge white hound joined the fray. He had to be twice Connor’s size, and the sight of the blood on his fur as he sank his teeth into the fox’s spine was horrific. Connor, still growling, kept hold of the fox’s front leg, tugging and shaking his head angrily. Sixty released and found a better angle, snapping his jaws and shaking his head. The yowling cries of the fox were deafening, and if not for the attack on his chickens, Richard might have felt sorry for it. He definitely wasn’t cheering the dogs on, more watching the spectacle in mute horror. His bottom lip quivered as he stared, flinching and stumbling away from the fence as Sixty threw his head back and howled, blood staining his white jaws and fur as he revelled in his latest kill. Connor joined him, panting happily and licking his bloodied jowls as Hank appeared and patted his head.

“Good boy Con, good job Sixty.” Sixty snorted, accepting the pet on his head with a swish of his tail before he grabbing the fox and padding off towards the fence. Connor tilted his head curiously, but didn’t follow as Sixty hopped over and went to enjoy his spoils. Looking around, it didn’t take Hank long to find the limp black chicken, or to spot Richard’s horror stuck form. The bottom half of his worn jeans were splashed with mud from running across the yard, his shirt crumpled and untucked, cheeks wet with tears. Hank winced at the sight. It was never easy dealing with fox attacks, but this was Richard’s first one, so it probably came as a nasty shock, especially straight after the storm.

The chickens had been moved to the barn to prevent something like this from happening. He’d have to run an eye over Richard’s barn to see how it got in, and maybe broach the subject of getting a yard dog. Richard didn’t like dogs, but if he could get used to having one around, it would be safer for the chickens. If he has any left...He was a little surprised the fox had even come out in the storm, but maybe it had been looking for shelter. With the rain dampening the smell of the dogs, it had probably felt safe slipping across the yard. His own barn was out of the question with Sixty standing guard inside, but Richard’s barn had no such deterrent. It was ironic they’d moved the chickens to keep them safe, and the coops were still standing, untouched by the storm.

“I-is it Nines?” Richard hadn’t checked to see if any of the chickens in the barn had survived. There wasn’t time with how fast the fox had run by him. His priority had been going after the fox and trying to get his chicken back. Right now, as he looked at the limp bird Hank had picked up by the feet, he knew it was already too late. No way would Hank pick up a live bird like that. Had there been even a hint of life, he would have cradled it lovingly and soothed it until help arrived. As if reminded of the chicken in his hand, Hank held it up and shook his head. It was too small to be Nines and lacked the spurs on its heels and long tail feathers.

“Did it get all of them?” Richard barely dared to go back and check. His heart was still racing, throat choking on a sob as he looked back towards the barn. There was a wet thud as Hank joined him, leaving Connor whining by the fence. He could sense Richard’s distress, and Hank’s low mood. The thought of the fox killing all of his chickens had never even crossed Richard’s mind. Surely one or two would be enough to feed it! Why would it kill more? “Come on...I’ll come with you.” That was comforting. Richard gave a stiff nod as they walked side by side across the yard.

“I don’t know how it got in. I opened the door, and it was...Fuck, it was horrible! Blood and feathers everywhere! I saw it running and took off without a second thought.” He didn’t know what his plan was if he’d caught the damned thing! It wasn’t like he had a gun or knife on him. What was he supposed to do against a fox? Kick it to death? Though it was a gruesome sight, it was probably best that Sixty and Connor had dealt with it. He shuddered at the memory, feeling sick at the thought of all that blood. Hank nodded, setting his jaw as they approached the open doors. It was a relief to hear a flurry of panicked clucks as they stepped inside, along with a few smaller tweets.

“Shit, you weren’t kidding about the mess.” It had been a long time since he’d seen a fox attack with all the dogs on his property, and the black feathers made it look worse. Sheer carnage. The remaining hens were obviously in shock, clucking and quivering together, surrounded by the remnants of their flock. It was heartbreaking to see. Three hens had been lost, along with seven small chicks, and the eggs that should have been kept warm were jumbled and forgotten in the hay or trampled underfoot in the scuffle. Then there was Nines. He’d survived, just about, but it didn’t look good. He was limping, spurs bloody and covered in fur, and one of his wings was drooping and dragging as he awkwardly hopped along. With the black feathers, it was impossible to see if there was any more damage. “Alright...The hens are in shock, so they’ll need peace and quiet. I think it’ll be best to check them over one by one and get them shut in the coop.” Richard nodded numbly, willing to follow Hank’s lead as the more experienced keeper.

They worked slowly, checking the chicks first since they were easier to examine and move. Thankfully, those that remained were physically unharmed, just scared out of their wits. Unwilling to move the little ones alone, Hank examined one of the hens and found her to be in perfect health as well. Her feet and legs were fine, her wings moved as they should, and as he felt over her body, she simply sat in his lap. No pecking, no flinching, no distressed clucking. There were no punctures that he could see, or even scrapes. She was ruffled, but unharmed. They moved her with the chicks and locked them in the coop before returning for the next hens.

Richard hovered anxiously as Hank worked, feeling guilty for not considering something like this. Why wouldn’t a fox come out in the storm? Why wouldn’t it break into his barn and attack his chickens? He should have checked the place over. There was clearly a gap somewhere that allowed it to get in. He was beyond thankful that the next four hens were physically unharmed and could be moved to the coop. Unfortunately, the remaining two hens and Nines were less fortunate. One hen had a bite on her wing, though Hank didn’t think it was broken, and the other had been grabbed by the neck and shaken up, leaving nasty puncture wounds.

Upon examining Nines, he found it could have been a lot worse. His wing was obviously broken, but that would be no problem. Even if it didn’t heal right, it wasn’t like Nines needed to fly anywhere. He was more worried about the leg, but was relieved to find it was just scratched and sore. The bones could all bend, even his clawed feet. There was a bite on his chest and possibly another near his tail, but hopefully those would heal with the proper care. The most important thing was getting them checked over, so he called Luther to tell him what had happened. With most things, they’d have to schedule an appointment, but with the potentially serious injuries and time sensitive issues, Luther said he’d see them as an emergency case.

Richard was truly miserable as he sat in the truck, gently cradling Nines against his chest, wrapped in a worn white towel. Seeing the blood made him feel even worse as he gently stroked his comb and neck, worried about hurting him if he touched anywhere else. The hens were safely shut in the carrier, where they sat quietly, strapped to the backseat. Hank drove, knowing Richard was in no fit state to do it himself, especially not with the boggy dirt roads. Watching from the corner of his eye, Hank did his best to make him feel better. He wasn’t the first or last keeper to be hit by a fox attack. There was always a learning curve. They just had to find the gap and block it up. He’d lost three hens, but the rest would be fine, and even Nines would be back on his feet in no time at all. Richard almost seemed to doubt it as he looked at the sad, drooping form in his lap.

He wasn’t his usual flapping and aggressive self. At any other time, Richard would enjoy being able to cradle him in his arms and gently stroke his feathers without fear of pecking. With his injuries, it just made him feel terrible. The lack of activity was worrying. Did it mean he was badly hurt? Was he dying? It was unheard of for Nines to sit so still and be so quiet! Every time he blinked, Richard seemed afraid it might be his last. Again, Hank did his best to reassure him. Fox attacks always shook things up. They’d all be out of sorts for a few days, and it was best to keep them shut in the coop until things had settled down.

At the office, Luther saw them straight away, and Richard let Hank handle things as far as explanations went. Despite his enormous size, Luther was extremely gentle as he examined the chickens one by one, starting with Nines since he was the most injured. They’d obviously need to operate and pin that wing, but Nines would need to be calmed first. On top of that, he needed to x-ray and flush all the punctures, and clean up his leg. The hens were much easier. He agreed with Hank that it was just puncture wounds for them, though he did x-rays, to be sure. The hens had their wounds flushed, received shots to guard against infection, and were promptly returned to the carrier.

“Don’t worry. The procedure is relatively simple, and he should be ready to return to the farm tomorrow.” Despite Luther’s confident assurance, Richard couldn’t help the well of worry that opened in the pit of his stomach as he watched him carry Nines off to the overnight area. Nines almost seemed to understand what was going on as his head peered around Luther’s large arm, dark eyes watching Richard until he was out of sight. Hank clapped a hand on Richard’s shoulder, putting on a brave front as he gripped the delicate joint.

“Luther’s right, and he’s the best around these parts. He’ll have Nines put right in no time.”

Chapter Text

Hank was invaluable, even after they got home. Had he been left alone, Richard might have returned the two injured hens to the coop with the others, however, the first thing Hank said was that they should be kept alone. Perhaps that made sense. It would be easier to monitor their wounds and apply the antiseptic cream and insecticide to keep maggots at bay if they were in their own small hut. It would also keep the wounds cleaner, without the other chickens rubbing against them and risking infections or re-opening the wounds.

“What? No, that’s not it. Chickens can be nasty little fuckers, especially when they see weakness. You put these two back in the coop and they’ll be pecked and plucked, maybe even killed!” Hank huffed fondly at the aghast look on Richard’s face. He’d never thought chickens were so ruthless. After such an attack, he’d thought they might all come together to comfort and heal their injured family members. “Think about it! It’s survival of the fittest out there. The weak would slow down the entire flock and become a burden, so it’s easier to weaken and leave them behind for the predators.” That was fine in the wild, but these were farm hens! They’d never seen the wild in their lives!

“But that’s so cut-throat!” Looking at the two quietly hooting hens, Richard found it hard to believe they could do such a thing. They always looked so plump and happy hopping around the coop. Besides Nines and Gavin, he couldn’t recall a single time there had been a fight.

“That it is, but they’re animals. They don’t see things the same way we do. It’s like with the fox that broke into your coop. You’d think one chicken would be enough, that he’d take it and leave, but if you hadn’t come along, he would have slaughtered the lot. Why?” Hank paused and waited to see if Richard knew, but he looked utterly mystified. Hank was right. The fox could have taken one chicken and had a hearty meal. All he could think was that maybe there were other foxes to feed. “It’s their nature. That fox couldn’t eat all the chickens at once, but if he killed them, he’d be able to come back for more later.” That didn’t really make sense to Richard. Surely, even in the wild, the dead birds wouldn’t simply be left untouched. Other predators and scavengers would surely come along, or carrion birds and other decomposers. Would the meat even be safe to eat after a day or two? Wouldn’t it taste bad? Did foxes even have a sense of taste?

“So, what should I do with these two?” The house might be an option, but chickens were quite dirty, and he didn’t relish the smell of chicken shit being all over his living room. Hank took the carrier from him, and Richard followed as he crossed the yard towards their neighbouring pens.

“You can keep them in my old pen. They shouldn’t be fully separated from the flock, just divided enough that they can’t be bullied. Chickens are social animals, so you don’t want them getting lonely. With similar injuries, these two might be able to stay together without issue, so we’ll keep an eye on them to make sure there’s no fighting.” Richard watched nervously as Hank climbed over the fence and headed into his old coop. If not for Connor’s appearance, Richard might have joined him. It seemed Hank noticed as he shooed Connor away and sent him zipping across the yard with a whistle. Once they were both safely in the pen, Hank opened the carrier door and watched the two hens cautiously step out. They were still rattled and nervous, as they would be for the next few days, and didn’t seem keen on straying too far from the carrier.

“Will they be alright out in the open like this?” It seemed a little cruel, keeping them out in the open pen while the rest of the flock was cosy in the coop. It would also get a little cooler at night, and he hated to think of them shivering in the cold.

“Oh, no! Being out like this is just for exercise. I have some old crates in the barn they can use as a temporary shelter.” Richard nodded his thanks and settled on his knees by the hens as they cautiously pecked the damp earth. They were good natured and somewhat needy as they settled by his knees, accepting whatever gentle pets he gave with gentle coos. It didn’t take long for Hank to return carrying a large wooden crate, with Connor panting at his heels. As he put the large box down, Richard could already see he’d filled it with a generous layer of straw.

They put the hens inside and Richard remained at the edge to watch. The box was large, about the size of a children’s toy box. There was more than enough space for both chickens to sit in their own nest of straw, and they seemed happy enough as they looked across at each other, clucking and cooing. Hank joined him, standing slightly behind with his hands on his hips and assessing them. They were still shaken up from the earlier attack, which might limit their aggression for the first day or so. It might also be that these two hens were happy enough being together with similar injuries and they wouldn’t fight at all. It really depended on their usual temperaments. Richard certainly didn’t seem like he expected trouble, and even Hank couldn’t remember seeing the hens fighting before.

“I’ll bring along the lid and another crate for Nines. Do you have small bowls for food and water? Once we put those in, we can put on the lid and let them rest for a bit.” And that’s what they did. Richard made sure the box and coop were both stocked with food and water for the night before closing them up. The healthy hens were just as quiet as they had been earlier, content to sit in their nests and huddle together in the dark. That’s how they remained, even the next day. In the morning, Richard headed out to the horses as usual, having spent the night curled up in Hank’s arms, and when he arrived at the coop, it was as quiet as the day before.

“Do you think I should leave it open?” Richard asked as he crouched by the door of the coop. He didn’t like to think he was trapping them inside, but he also didn’t want them to be scared of predators coming in. Hopping over the fence, Hank joined him in looking at the hens. They certainly didn’t look restless. He wouldn’t be surprised if they remained huddled in their nests all day. Some were even nursing the eggs that had been salvaged. Hank wasn’t sure they’d hatch after being left in the hay, but those that weren’t broken had been returned to the nests just in case.

“I’d keep it closed for now. We can check in again this afternoon when Nines comes home and see if they’re more active.” With that decided, Richard left more food and water and shut the door. The hens in the crate seemed just as content as they huddled together, still sleepy as they rested their heads on their puffed up breasts. Richard worked quietly, refilling the food and water bowl and closing the lid. He was eager for Nines’ return and checked the second large crate to make sure it was ready. There was a generous layer of straw, a water bowl, and a bowl of feed. A wooden lid could then close over the top, just like the other crate. It looked pretty cosy for a makeshift recovery coop.

Hank insisted on driving him to pick Nines up, knowing he’d be distracted. Richard chewed his thumbnail the whole way there and was still antsy as they waited for Luther to bring Nines out. Hank swore Richard almost cried as he appeared, a clearly disgruntled ball of black feathers with a bright blue cast around his wing, and a sling crisscrossing his body to keep the broken wing trapped in place. His free wing was already trying to flap free of Luther’s grasp as he stepped out, and he almost fell as Luther passed him over to Richard’s less experienced hands. Curiously enough, Nines settled down once he was bundled against Richard’s chest, bobbing his head and crowing mournfully as sympathetic fingers stroked his comb.

“How are you doing, Nines? Feeling sorry for yourself, hm?” Hank tried not to smile too much as he watched Richard coddling Nines, talking to him softly like he was a baby. He didn’t bounce him, wary of hurting his wing, but he did slowly twist from side to side, gently rocking him. Whether it helped or not, Hank wasn’t sure, but Nines didn’t complain. Luther had no reservations about showing his amusement, huffing fondly as he ran a finger down Nines’ neck and waved them towards the plastic chairs in the waiting room.

“He’s on the mend already. Please, take a seat and I’ll talk you through the care regime.” It was all quite simple, and nothing Hank hadn’t done before. The wing would remain bound for four weeks, at which time Nines was to be brought back for x-rays and possibly cast removal. Like the two hens, he was to apply the antiseptic and insecticide spray to keep the wounds clean. The punctures had been flushed, and were already starting to heal. Letting the air get to them would help speed things along, but they should watch out for infections. His injured leg had been bound and should remain that way for three days. The cut was fine, but the joint had been lightly sprained and needed the support to heal. He should have space to walk around, but be kept separate from the other chickens. As Hank had already warned, the chickens were likely to attack the weak and injured.

“Will he be alright with the two injured hens?”

“Perhaps, though even injured chickens have been known to attack each other. I would advise you to keep them close but separate, or that you supervise the group until you’re confident they’re settled.” That seemed reasonable. Luther also provided some vitamin supplements to speed up the healing process and perk the chickens up after their recent ordeal. Hank took the medication and empty carrier since Richard seemed set on holding Nines in his arms all the way back, and Nines didn’t object to the idea. He seemed downright dozy as he settled on Richard’s lap and rested his small head in the crook of his arm. Richard stroked his back the whole way, keeping his free wing flush against his stomach lest he start flapping.

“We should check the barn when we get back and find out how that fox got in.” Richard nodded from the corner of his eye, taking on a horribly guilty expression as he stroked Nines’ feathers. “Don’t look like that! I already told you it’s not your fault. Though, there are things you can do to stop it from happening again...” Hank could feel Richard looking at him as they hit the dirt road up to the farm. His arm tightened slightly, and the gentle stroking stopped so that he could hold Nines steady as the truck trundled through the mud. Nines clucked almost indignantly as he raised his head, jostled from his peaceful slumber.

“Like what? I already fox-proofed the pen, and I checked it right after the storm!” The pen should be safe. He’d hammered everything down, all the mesh panels were locked together, and the roof of the pen was hooked in place as well. In the event a fox got into the pen, the coop itself was also fox proof. All the doors were shut tight that day with the hens inside.

“I wasn’t thinking about that. I meant you could get some...protection.” Hank was hesitant to come out and say it. He already knew Richard wasn’t a fan of dogs. But if he could introduce him to Sumo and get him used to it, and build him up to Connor, then maybe he could get a yard dog of his own. A good dog was a sure way to see off foxes, and it wouldn’t bother the horses at all, once it was properly introduced. The barn cats were a concern, but they were usually quick anyway. He’d never known Connor or Sixty to attack his barn cats, probably because they were so small.

“I have guns, but I’d have to be right there to stop it.”

“That’s not quite what I had in mind. I meant, you know, a guard...Maybe a dog.” As expected, Richard stiffened at the very thought. “They’re not as much work as you think! In fact, if you get a big dog, like Sixty, he’ll even feed himself! And they’re loyal. They’ll protect the horses, the chickens, you, the house. All you have to do is introduce him to the people who come over regularly, and you’ll be all set.” Richard didn’t answer, but his face said it all. He was petrified by the idea. Hank could only guess he’d had an unpleasant experience with dogs at some point. That fear had to come from somewhere.

“I-isn’t there another animal?”

“Like what?” He had him there. He already had cats, but they’d never stand up to something as large as a fox, and they couldn’t be trained to actively chase them away either. Every other animal he could think of was a prey animal, so the fox would likely attack them as well. “How about I introduce you to Sumo? He’s a soppy animal these days and wouldn’t hurt a fly!” Richard was less than enthused. In fact, he looked like he was going to be sick, though that could be down to the swaying of the truck as they bounced along.

“I-I don’t think that’s...”

“I’ll be with you the whole time, and if he gets too excited, I’ll send him away.” Hank huffed fondly as he stopped the truck by the stables and Richard hopped out without answering. Unwilling to let him evade the topic, Hank followed him down to the coop, where he’d stopped by the fence. Connor was already there, tongue lolling as he sat panting by the pen. “I’ll even keep him on a leash if that makes you feel better.” Nothing made him feel better. The very thought of putting his hand, his foot, or any other piece of his body near those teeth made him feel sick. Shooing Connor away, Hank helped Richard over the fence and ushered him into the pen.

As soon as Nines was on the ground, he stretched out his free wing and pattered a circle around the mesh, crowing almost questioningly. It didn’t take long for a distant caw to respond, and as Richard squinted across Hank’s yard, he could see Gavin flapping and hopping in his own coop. He huffed fondly as he took the lid off the crate. Really? You’ve barely been home a minute and you’re already thinking about that? Nines was reluctant as Richard picked him up, kicking his feet indignantly as he was set inside the crate. After taking in his new surroundings and noting the water and feed, he seemed to settle down. This was probably quite a day for him...It wasn’t every day he got a car ride. Not to mention the operation and having his wing strapped.

“You rest up, alright?” Richard was almost reluctant to leave as Nines butted his fingers, beak barely brushing his fingertips. After one fox attack, he couldn’t help worrying about another. It was silly. He’d checked the pen, Connor was running around Hank’s yard, and the fox that had actually attacked his chickens was gone. The scent of dogs and fresh fox blood should be enough to scare off any others for now. Hank seemed to pick up on what he was thinking as he appeared at his shoulder and stroked his back.

“Come on. Nines and the others will need some peace after what happened. Connor will be in the yard to keep an eye out.” Richard pushed to his feet with a sigh, wincing at the ache in his knees. Judging by the firm hand on his arm, he assumed Allen was rubbing off on Hank with his nannying ways. He was wearing an almost suspicious frown, a hint of worry in his pale blue eyes. Richard scoffed softly, gently pulling his arm free.

“Just a little stiff,” he excused, smirking and stepping closer to rest a hand on Hank’s chest. “I’ve spent a lot of time on my knees lately.” Judging by the heat in Hank’s eyes, he guessed he was thinking about the other night, too. Richard bit his lip, trying hard not to laugh as he thought back to the feeling of dry hay burning his knees. The redness had faded now, but the day after his skin had been scraped and rosy from the rough pounding that scooted his body across the bales. Burly hands came to rest on his hips, pulling him closer until their bodies touched. There was something almost hungry in Hank’s expression, a sight that made Richard’s chest flutter in anticipation.

“We’ll have to be more careful in the future...Wouldn’t want your knees to give out.” Richard swallowed at the thickness in Hank’s voice, teasing promises hidden just below the surface. Despite the teasing, he knew Hank was right. After more than twenty years in the saddle, his knees, hips, and back were at a higher risk of injury and long-term issues. He’d retired at the right time to head them off, but riding was still part of his everyday life. Although he didn’t go as hard as he used to, he still pounded the track for training purposes. Richard remained still as Hank leaned down, eyes fluttering as warm breath ghosted across his lips. Connor’s loud bark made him flinch and draw back with a gasp, the hand on Hank’s chest tightening to fist his shirt. “Or your heart, for that matter,” Hank chuckled as he straightened up.

“I-I should make a start on the barn.” If he got out fast enough, maybe Hank wouldn’t remember what he’d said about introducing him to his dogs. But before he could walk more than two steps, firm hands had latched onto his hips and dragged him back. It would be a lie to say he didn’t stir with interest as Hank’s pelvis bumped his lower back. Looking up, he could see Connor panting and padding circles by the pen door, waiting for them to come out. It seemed he was trapped either way.

“I’ll come with you. It’ll be a lot to clean up on your own, and we need to find out how that fox got in.” He was certainly right about that. With the chickens now back in their coop, it didn’t really matter, but it definitely needed to be sorted before the next storm came. Foxes didn’t stay gone for long. The death of one merely meant their territory was now free for another to move into.

Chapter Text

Looking around the barn, Hank could tell Richard didn’t use it much. There were two stalls full of clutter that clearly wasn’t his, and the ladder leading up to the open loft had three broken rungs, so he’d probably never been up there. That was something Hank decided to change. It was unlikely a fox could climb all the way up the outside to get in on the second floor, but that wouldn’t stop large birds from making their nests up there. Taking the ladder down, he set it by the door to take with him later. The first thing they did, once the barn cats had scattered, was focus on the mess. Richard swept up the feathers around the outside while Hank forked the soiled straw bedding into a large sack to be tossed out later. A hose was dragged across from the stables and Hank scrubbed while Richard hosed the bloodstained stall and floor.

While they were cleaning, they swept the open floor around the stacked straw and hay bales to get rid of any debris and clean it up. The stalls were next. The stuff inside was all pretty old. Rusted attachments for tractors and ploughs that were long gone. Old tools that hadn’t been touched in years and would be more useful in the garbage than clogging up Richard’s barn. They removed the items, giving Richard two more large stalls he could use for whatever he wanted. They’d probably been used for pigs or sheep in the past, but they could easily be re-fitted to hold horses instead.

Once the cleaning was done, Hank led the way around the edge, looking for a broken plank in the wall or a hole leading outside. Surprisingly enough, he found nothing. He pushed on every plank and ran his boot along the earth by the wall. Nothing. No holes, no scrapes, not even a loose plank. That was pretty impressive, considering the age of the place. It seemed the previous owner had been quite proud of his barn, which was surprising, given his age. Then again, he’d had a team of young farmhands helping with things like that towards the end.

“So where did it get in?” Richard asked, looking around with his hands on his hips. Hank wasn’t about to suggest the second floor just yet. Not when there was a more obvious possibility.

“Do me a favour and close that door.” Hank waved at the large door on the right while he pulled the one on the left. Curious, Richard dragged the heavy door shut and watched as Hank bolted them. Stepping back, he rested his hands on his hips, checking the hinges and frame. They both saw it, though Richard couldn’t believe an animal so big could squeeze through a gap so small. “Ah-ha, that’ll do it...” Hank knelt where the two doors came together and balled his fist, easily able to fit it in where the worn corners were supposed to meet.

“Are you serious?” Hank chuckled at Richard’s disbelieving tone.

“I know they look pretty big, but most of their body is fur, and they can collapse their ribs quite a bit. So long as the head can fit, the body can follow.” The gap couldn’t have been bigger than nine or ten centimetres. That didn’t look like much, even with daylight streaming through the crack. “Don’t worry. Now we’ve found it, I know just how to block it up. I’ll add a thick edging along the bottom rail. That’ll strengthen the base and make sure these corners come together properly.” Richard would have to keep an eye on the place to make sure nothing was digging along the bottom, but that would be easy.

“Thanks. Is there anything you’ll need? Wood? Nails?”

“Don’t worry about it. I have a lot of this sort of stuff stored in the barn for emergencies.” That was all well and good, but this wasn’t an emergency, and he’d hate to use up Hank’s supplies. He wasn’t poor, but farms cost a lot to run, and as a livestock farmer, Hank needed all the money he could get for feed and upkeep for his own animals.

“At least let me know how much it will cost so I can reimburse you!” Hank huffed fondly as he pushed to his feet. It was a relatively small job, one that would take barely a few hours. Fixing the ladder would take even less, but that could wait until later. Since they’d found the entry point, it wasn’t a huge issue, and there was probably nothing up there. By the state of the rest of the junk they’d found, he didn’t expect there to be anything useful, but it wouldn’t hurt to look. With that in mind, Hank took the ladder back to his own barn and gathered supplies to fix the door.

While he was gone, Richard turned his attention to the horses. Once they were loose in the fields, he was free to muck out the stalls. It was a relatively small job day-to-day. They did a big clean about once a month where they completely stripped the bedding and hosed the place down, but that day was just a quick clean. He went from stall to stall, forking out any soiled patches and replacing whatever bedding was lost. He needed to make a few trips to the manure pile between stalls, but it didn’t take too long. Once the bedding was refreshed, he emptied and cleaned the water bowls, which were more like sinks than actual bowls, complete with taps. The last task was to refill the hayracks on the wall so they didn’t get hungry in the night, and of course they’d be expecting their feed buckets when they returned from the fields later. It averaged out about fifteen minutes per stall for Richard to work his way through, and during that time, he could hear Hank hammering away at the barn door.

Hank wasn’t joking when he said he had a supply of wood in his barn. He rarely threw anything out, so whenever he finished an odd job, he kept the leftovers for later. That meant he had a stock of thick wooden beams from various renovations and builds tucked away. The colour obviously didn’t match the red of the barn, but that was easily fixed. Closing and bolting the doors, he got to work. The wear was even more obvious from the outside, though not unexpected. The barn had been there for decades. Getting to his knees, Hank set up the new beam and started measuring. It needed to be high enough that it wouldn’t drag along the ground, but low enough that it would deter unwelcome guests and block the hole.

Setting the two beams along the door, he managed to get them so they touched and lined up with the crack. Having done similar work before, he knew the wood needed to be propped at the right height for hammering, and he had some old tiles that were the perfect thickness for the job. Humming to himself, Hank grabbed his hammer and nails and got to work, slowly making his way along the door. Richard walked by a few times as he went, pushing the wheelbarrow back and forth. It wasn’t a big job, so it was really no surprise that Hank finished and packed away first. Since Richard was still busy, Hank went off on his own rounds, checking in with the various animals and giving Connor a good run around.

It almost seemed like fate that he returned in the late afternoon when Richard was feeding the chickens. He watched his slim figure enter the pen and crouch by the coop, obviously checking in with the hens. It was unlikely he’d hop the fence without him being there, too wary of Sumo’s distant form slumped on the deck at the house. There was also no telling when Connor might come zipping across the yard. In fact, Hank had no sooner had the thought than Connor barked and raced up to the fence, tail wagging in greeting as he leapt up and planted his paws on the top beam. Since his head was in the coop, Richard visibly flinched, almost falling in his haste to pull out.

“Connor, down boy!” Hank was almost laughing as he laid a hand on Connor’s head to push him down. Richard clicked his tongue as he stood and dusted himself off, rescuing his feed bucket before the hens knocked it over. Their small trough was full, so it was time to see to Nines and the injured hens. “How are they doing?” Hank asked as he leaned on the fence.

“Still quiet.” That wasn’t unusual after an attack. It could take two or three days for them to come out again. “Thanks for fixing up the barn. It’s good work.” Hank nodded at the compliment, though it was really nothing to him. He’d done a lot of similar jobs before. It went without saying that Hank helped Richard over the fence and into his pen, where they checked on the hens together. Since he’d nursed injured chickens before, Hank gave them the once over, parting their feathers and looking at their wounds. So far so good. They hadn’t pecked at each other, and they were both sweet girls.

“They’re probably still feeling the effects of the attack, so we’ll keep an eye on them to be sure, but so far they don’t seem interested in fighting.” That was good. From what Hank and Luther said, it could get messy, and Richard didn’t want to see that. It was shocking enough to see the mess the fox had left behind. Hank had been sensitive enough to dispose of the bodies, or rather, he’d offered them to Sixty and watched him happily cart them off to the treeline to enjoy later. Hank had never been one for waste, but since they’d been killed by a fox, he wouldn’t risk eating them himself. You never knew what a fox might be carrying. That wasn’t a concern for Sixty. He ate all sorts, and he was smart about what he ate. If the meat was bad, he would have turned his nose up and walked off.

Nines was much like the hens. Quiet and feeling sorry for himself. He graciously allowed Hank to pick him up and check him over, and greedily accepted any pets and coos that Richard offered. They topped up his feed and water, and Hank mixed in his medication to ensure he remained as healthy and pain free as possible. Since he seemed lethargic, Hank returned him to the cosy crate and shut the lid. The hens in the main coop would probably perk up the next day, so Nines and the injured hens could take turns coming out of their crates to walk around their pen and mingle safely with the flock.

“Are you free now?” Richard was immediately on edge at the question. Hank sounded far too innocent to have asked with good intentions. The amusement in his soft blue eyes didn’t make him feel any better about it, either. Richard’s brows came together as he frowned, dark eyes wary and suspicious.

“Why?”

“Answer the question first.” Richard had the horrible feeling that Hank would know the truth either way. The horses wouldn’t need to come in for a few hours yet, and he didn’t have any training set for that day. Not even Allen was there to give him an excuse. Hank waited patiently, trying hard not to grin at Richard’s discomfort as he looked for an excuse to turn him down.

“Yes, I’m free.” It was a grudging admission, at best.

“Great! We’ll get you back in your yard and I’ll bring Sumo over for an introduction.” That’s what he’d been afraid of, and it must have shown on his face. “Don’t worry, Sumo wouldn’t hurt a fly!” Richard was quite sure that he would hurt a fly. In fact, he was convinced he’d probably maul any small animal, including him! Stammering out objections did little to dampen Hank’s spirits as he helped him over the fence and headed up to the house with Connor on his heels. Eyeing the back door, Richard considered going inside to hide. Hank probably wouldn’t break his door just to force him to come out, but he’d certainly think him a coward if he left.

As he saw Hank walking Sumo around the side of his house, he began to think that was preferable. There was something almost proud in Hank’s gentle eyes as he noticed him still standing by the fence, as if he’d expected him to disappear. Once they were within speaking range, Richard started to back off, which was enough of a sign for Hank to stop walking. There was almost ten feet between them, and Richard didn’t look keen on getting any closer. Sumo was panting happily, tail wagging with excitement at being put on the lead and taken out. It was rare for Hank to put a lead on him these days. With such a vast property, it was rarely needed. He was free to go anywhere he liked.

Unlike Connor, Sumo was patient, so where Connor would have been champing at the bit to get to Richard, Sumo was happy to stand beside Hank panting and wagging his tail. His tongue lolled out as he looked up at Hank and then at Richard, almost questioning his human on what he should do. He was curious, of course. It wasn’t every day he was walked to someone else’s house, and he’d seen Richard around the yard. He’d even smelled him on Hank’s clothes when he came home, especially that week. That suggested he was friendly. Hank wouldn’t spend time with someone who wasn’t friendly.

Richard watched as Sumo’s head darted backward and forwards, clearly excited as he wagged his fluffy tail. Richard was less than enthused. His heart was already racing as he stared at the great beast that had been walked onto his property. His legs felt stiff, and he wasn’t sure he could move, at least not until a loud bark sounded right beside him. The yelp that fled his lips as he stumbled away from the fence was almost girlish, making Hank guffaw loudly as Sumo woofed and padded in a circle. Looking at the fence, Richard saw Connor on his hind legs, hopping on the spot as his tail wagged. His ears were low, head tilting and befuddled as he took in the sight of Sumo and Hank standing in Richard’s yard. He seemed almost wounded as he turned his big brown eyes on Hank, a small whine trapped in his throat.

“Connor, stay.” Connor seemed less than pleased with the order, but grudgingly obeyed as he lowered himself to all fours and paced the barrier. Richard sighed and rubbed his brow, still unable to work himself up to moving forward. “If you won’t come here, I could bring him there.” Despite the words, there wasn’t a trace of impatience in his voice. He simply thought that might be easier. Richard nodded with a sigh. He certainly wasn’t getting any closer on his own. Not that I want to get closer to that lumbering beast.

Pulling the lead, Hank took a step closer to Richard before stopping. Sumo followed the pull, a little confused as Hank stopped. He looked between them curiously as if waiting for a sign. When Hank didn’t encourage him on, he sat, tail still wagging. Hank murmured simple words of praise while seeing how Richard was doing. He didn’t seem thrilled, but he hadn’t stepped away either. It seemed he was at least willing to give this a try, which was good if they intended to continue their little trysts. If he couldn’t get used to the dogs, it would be a permanent thorn in their relationship. It would be nice to ask him over or suggest putting a gate in the fence and things like that.

Richard got a little shakier as they closed in, but did well at standing his ground. At five paces, Hank heard him curse under his breath. He wasn’t sure if he was praising Richard or Sumo at this point. The sound of his voice seemed to calm him at least as he folded his arms and tucked in his hands. At three paces, Richard was close enough to reach out and touch Sumo if he wanted to, which he very much didn’t. Setting a hand on Sumo’s head, Hank had him sit and waited for Richard to make a move.

“Go ahead. I’ll hold his collar.” Hank was as good as his word, reaching down and holding the heavy leather strap with one hand and teasing his floppy ears with the other. Sumo was more than happy with the attention, tail thumping loudly as it swished back and forth. On the other side of the fence, Connor lay down and poked his nose through the fence, the picture of misery and neglect. For now, Hank had his attention fixed on Richard, still waiting for him to move. Richard tightened his arms, almost like a resolute child determined to refuse. “Go on. He won’t bite, I promise.” A promise like that didn’t mean much with animals. They were unpredictable. Despite that, Richard had a lot of confidence in Hank and his judgement. He hadn’t steered him wrong so far.

“Alright...” Taking a breath to work himself up, Richard slowly pulled a hand free and reached out for Sumo. Hank placed a hand over his snout, encouraging him to keep his head down for now so he didn’t spook Richard. It was almost like Sumo understood on some level as he watched Richard’s trembling fingers getting closer to his head.

“That’s it...Take your time...” Richard cursed internally, feeling his cheeks heat at the praise. He felt like a child being coaxed into walking for the first time. “There now, it’s not so bad...” Richard hated that Hank was actually right. Now that his fingertips were lightly brushing Sumo’s fur, it wasn’t as scary. The fur on his head was short and glossy, soft against his fingertips as he stroked. Hank moved his larger hand away from Sumo’s snout to cup his smaller hand and guide it down. Richard swallowed as he watched their joined hands resting atop Sumo’s head, and followed Hank’s lead as he started a series of longer strokes down his fluffy neck.

The fur on his neck was rougher and slightly longer, but not coarse. This...actually isn’t so bad...He wouldn’t say it was nice, but it wasn’t scary. The slobbering mouth and sharp teeth were still a concern, but he wasn’t worried so long as Hank was guiding his hand. With a little encouragement, Richard moved to tease Sumo’s floppy ears, watching them twitch as he opened his mouth and panted happily. Hank’s grip on his hand tightened, keeping him in place as Sumo dragged himself closer, until his large flank was touching Richard’s leg.

“You’re alright...” That much was true. Although he’d tensed, he hadn’t pulled free and run away. Sumo seemed oblivious to the tense mood as he turned his head up and continued panting. He looked like he was smiling as he licked his chops and stared up at Richard, his black nose twitching as the hand returned to his head. “Let him smell you.” This was the part Richard was less than thrilled about, but he grudgingly allowed it as Hank led his hand towards Sumo’s wet nose. Instinctively balling his fingers, Richard froze as Sumo edged closer and snuffled his hand. His nose was cold and wet on his knuckles, and was soon followed by a less than pleasant warmth as Sumo’s tongue teased his skin.

“I-I think that’s enough for one day.” Richard was the picture of disgust as Hank let him pull his hand back and he immediately wiped it on his pant leg. There was all sorts of bacteria in that dog’s mouth, giving him the immediate urge to wash his hands. Hank chuckled as he watched, kneeling and ruffling Sumo’s large body. He had no such reservations about accepting Sumo’s licks and kisses, though he turned his face to spare his lips at least. Richard looked aghast as Sumo licked his cheek, a look that clearly said he wasn’t kissing him until he was clean.

“You did well for a first meeting.” What do you mean first? Wasn’t once enough? On the other side of the fence, a loud whine caught their attention. Connor had now turned on his side like the most wounded animal, large brown eyes staring at them as if he’d been betrayed. “Don’t be so dramatic!” Connor yowled, almost in argument as Sumo padded over to nose his sulking snout. “Come on now, you’re a big boy.” Connor rolled to his other side, looking over his shoulder to ensure Hank knew he was officially being snubbed. Hank chuckled softly. He’d get over it by dinnertime. They never argued for long.

“Well...Thanks again for helping today.” Hank probably had a lot to do on the farm, and it would be time to bring the horses in soon. Despite that, Hank seemed hesitant to leave as he tugged Sumo’s lead to bring him to his side.

“You want to grab a bite to eat later? It’s not Sunday dinner, but Rose’s food is always good.” Hank tried not to seem too hopeful as he waited for Richard’s answer. He could tell he was surprised to be asked, though he really shouldn’t have been. They were friends and neighbours. Hell, they were fucking! He should expect that he’d want to spend time with him.

“Yeah, I’d like that...Same time as before?” That sounded good to Hank, so with that agreed, he led Sumo around the edge of the house. Richard watched him leave with a giddy feeling in the pit of his stomach until he turned and found Connor staring at him. “What are you staring at?” Connor rolled to his paws at the grumble, panting and wagging his tail as he edged closer to the fence and poked his nose through. “Not a chance!” The small whine almost made him feel guilty, and seeing his ears and tail droop did have him thinking about it. Thinking. Not doing. Licking his nose, Connor nudged even closer, big brown eyes looking hopeful. Richard huffed, determinedly looking away until another whine reached his ears. “Don’t look at me like that!” Connor did not stop looking at him like that. Heaving a sigh, Richard edged a little closer. To his credit, Connor stayed still, perhaps understanding that any movement would spook him. Finally, Richard reached out and brushed his fingertips on the top of his snout. “There, one stroke!” It would be a lie to say his chest didn’t puff a little as he drew back, and Connor seemed just as pleased as his tail resumed its usual happy wagging.

Chapter Text

It seemed Richard understood the dress code a little better this time as he stepped out wearing jeans and a powder blue shirt with a soft grey cardigan over the top. After teasingly congratulating him for showing a little restraint, Hank led the way over to his truck. It was a weekday, so he didn’t plan on drinking much, and he imagined Richard would feel the same. With the storm over and the land drying out, Allen would be back to pick up on test races and talk business over the next day or two, as usual. He might even end up staying overnight for a few days. One of the mares was about ready to have her foal, and though there had been no complications so far, it wasn’t really Richard’s area of expertise. Under Allen’s guidance, he’d examined her enough to know her teats were waxing, which meant she’d give birth within the next two or three days. It was both exciting and terrifying. His chief concern was something happening without Allen being there, but he felt a little better living next door to Hank. He might not be experienced with horses in particular, but he’d at least birthed calves and other large animals.

“You must be pretty excited...Have you ever seen a foal being born?” Hank asked when Richard told him. Richard shook his head. Most mares seemed to give birth overnight at the stables, so he’d only ever seen the foals after the stable-hands had found and cleaned them up. This would be his first time properly rearing foals. As a jockey, breaking the horses had never been part of his job. He’d helped training as the horses got older, but he’d never reared a foal. “It’s amazing to see any animal giving birth. I’m sure you’ll do fine, and if you need help, I’m only a phone call away. Luther’s usually good about coming out in an emergency, too.” Hank had woken him in the night more than once with calves that weren’t breathing right or trapped umbilical cords.

“Hopefully, Allen will be here when it happens. He said he’d stay over for the next day or two to make sure everything goes well.” Hank’s brow furrowed at that. If Allen was staying over, that meant he’d be sleeping at Richard’s house. Richard had spare rooms, of course, but what if he didn’t stay there? What if he was planning to sleep in Richard’s room? Was that the plan? Hank was torn between whether the man came off as a brother or a flirt. They were certainly close, but did that mean they had their intimate moments as well? Would it matter if they did? It wasn’t like he’d made any official claims or declarations. Despite that, the thought of Richard sleeping with anyone else brought heat to his chest.

“That’ll be nice for you.” Richard raised an eyebrow at that, a little confused as he looked at Hank from the corner of his eye. Despite the front he was putting on, he could tell he was bothered.

“I guess.” Allen's staying was nothing special to him. It wasn’t like they’d never shared a room before. It often used to happen when they went to the races because they kept the same hours. Allen was his horse’s groom, so it made sense they bunked together because they were coming and going at the same times. Sharing a twin room also cut down on costs. Money wasn’t really an issue, but why spend more on a second room for a few days? It wasn’t like either of them were bringing company back. It was a work outing. Their only concerns were the horse and the race.

“Does he stay often?” Hank couldn’t help asking, though he was a little wary of the answer.

“No. He has a lot of work at his parents’ stables, so he usually drives back to his city apartment.” The distance from the city to his parents’ place was closer than staying on Richard’s farm, so it made sense for him to go back there. It may have been his imagination, but Richard could have sworn Hank’s arms relaxed slightly at the news. “It’s not that he couldn’t stay if he wanted to. I have plenty of room. It’s just easier for him to be in the city.” Plenty of room suggested a different room from his. The farmhouses were spacious, built for large and often multigenerational families. Hank’s father had grown up with three brothers, two sisters, their parents, and their paternal grandparents in the house. As an only child, it had been much quieter for Hank growing up since his aunts and uncles had all moved out.

“Would you want him to?” That was probably prying too much. Richard scoffed a little at that.

“And get nagged more than I already do? Absolutely not! He’s a real mother hen, always nagging me about my diet and saying I spend too much time cooped up in the house! It’s like having a second parent! Just because I like being alone sometimes doesn’t mean I’m a hermit!” That was a little more defensive than necessary, but the fact he called him a parent was somewhat promising. Since he was talking about him in such terms, it seemed he saw him as more like family than a love interest. Then again, some folks have a strange dynamic...

Hank took the lead as they entered the pub, politely holding the door for Richard on the way and scouting out a quiet corner table. It was approaching dinnertime, so a few of the regulars were already at the bar warming their stools with a pint of beer. Rose hollered a greeting from behind the bar, midway through pouring a pint, and let them take a seat. There was a small chalkboard hanging over the bar to tell customers about the food available. That night was a choice of chicken pie or steak with mashed potato and seasonal vegetables. Steak sounded a little heavy to Richard, so he went for the pie. Hank had no such concerns about heavy food, so he was happy to have the steak, being in the mood for a hearty meal.

It was a pretty hot day, so while Hank had a pint of cold lager, Richard had an elderflower cider. This locally brewed cider was only available during the summer months while the trees were in bloom. Rose also had a stock of homemade elderflower cordial she served for a non-alcoholic option, which Richard kept in mind for any future drinks that evening. With Allen coming the next day and the stables to manage, he didn’t fancy nursing another hangover. With such a low constitution, one drink was his limit on a weekday. Hank also seemed to be pacing himself as he sat nursing his beer.

“Got any plans for the stables? New stock? Any buyers lined up?” Hank wasn’t really sure what went on in the stables besides the fact that Richard kept and trained the horses for racing. He could tell they were all fine specimens, but that was the extent of his knowledge. Richard shrugged idly as they waited, nodding politely to the locals who entered and waved.

“Not really. Allen is handling most of the buying, so I’m not sure. As for selling, it isn’t quite time yet. Our oldest filly is still four months from being old enough to race. There’s a limit put on it to make sure they aren’t pushed too hard too fast. They need to build up their muscle mass and get used to being ridden before they’re ready for the track. We take our time with them, gradually getting them used to being tacked up, building their strength to carry a rider, and shaping them for whatever suits them best. I primarily deal with racehorses, but you never know whether they’ll be runners or jumpers until you see them mature. Our horses come from both lines, so it’s a mixed bag. There are also a few privately owned horses that are just there to be stabled.” Hank nodded his agreement, having noticed that not all the horses ended up on the track. Some of them were simply standing in the fields all day, though he knew Richard tacked them up and rode them around the estate regularly for exercise. The owners couldn’t get there every day, so exercising was worked into the price of their upkeep.

“What made you choose rearing racehorses? You could have opened a school and trained the next generation of riders.” Richard almost scoffed into his cider at the thought.

“You may have noticed, but I’m not the most sociable of people. I’d be terrible with kids. There’s also the location to consider. Few parents would drive all the way out here for lessons, and there aren’t many local children left at this point.” That much was certainly true. Before the accident, Cole had been one of only seven children in the area, and three of those had been approaching adulthood. It was sad to say it, but this was a dying town; a place for retirement. It was only stubbornness that was stopping big corporations from sweeping in and buying up the land at this point. Small, local farmers who were determined to keep it in the family. With many of the younger generations moving into the cities, it was likely the land would be sold off to the highest bidder at some point.

Rose greeted them briefly as she dropped off their food, and they lapsed into companionable silence as they ate. The food was delicious as always. The steak cut like butter, the pastry on the pie was crisp and golden, and there wasn’t a single lump in the fluffy mashed potato. Halfway through his drink, Richard realised the cider was a little stronger than he’d first thought. He wasn’t dizzy, but there was an unbalanced sensation in his head when he finished, and the glaze in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by Hank. Nor did it escape his notice that those dark eyes kept sending wandering glances his way. The type of glances that coloured Richard’s cheeks and made him squirm in his seat. Hank put on an almost sultry smirk in response, blue eyes lingering on the soft lines on Richard’s face and trailing over his supple body. It was just after ten when they left, having finished their food and drinks. Hank wrapped an arm around Richard’s smaller shoulders to guide him out, hollering a goodnight to Rose and the others as they left. If his hand strayed to Richard’s ass as they got outside, who was to know? The parking lot was deserted, and Richard certainly wasn’t complaining.

His head was fuzzy and his body warm as he finally sank into the passenger’s seat and buckled his seatbelt. Hank chuckled softly as he stole a glance at him, finding his eyes half-lidded as he nodded in his seat. It was quite endearing that he could barely handle one drink, though he was the first to admit that Rose’s cider was stronger than the average beer. Hank was suffering no such ill effects as he buckled his seatbelt and pulled out, looking over his shoulder to reverse into the street. By the time he turned back, Richard was already squirming uncomfortably in his seat to get comfortable.

“You doing alright?” It wasn’t a huge issue if he was sick, but he’d rather have time to pull over if he needed to.

“I’m fine.” Looking over, Hank saw Richard looking pointedly out of the window with his arms tightly folded. One foot was tapping gently on the floor as he sat slouched in the seat, cheeks slightly flushed as he pressed his lips together. Oh...Hank could see the problem. A boner in tight jeans was hard to hide. The material was straining slightly at the crotch, clearly uncomfortable as he shuffled his legs a little further apart. Licking his lips, Hank continued driving slowly up the street towards the dirt path that would take them home.

“You sure about that?” Richard gave a non-committal hum of agreement in response. “These look a little tight...” Dark eyes widened as Hank touched his knee, resting his hand there and steering one handed. Richard’s mouth went dry as he looked down at the hand, which slowly tightened to rub and soothe the thick denim. Licking his lips, Richard glanced at Hank, but his eyes were fixed on the road ahead. The touch on his knee sent heat to the pit of his stomach, less than pure thoughts creeping in as the hand teased its way higher. "Mm...feels uncomfortable.” Richard couldn’t argue with that. His cock was getting harder by the second, becoming uncomfortably snug in its denim prison.

“H-Hank-”

“Henry,” Hank corrected, palm now moving to rest over the bulge. Richard’s eyes fluttered, head tipping back as he nudged his hips closer. The rubbing palm made him forget the discomfort, though his cock twitched and hardened further with each pass. Without another word, Hank’s fingers crept higher and popped the metal button. The relief was instantaneous, pulling a sigh from Richard’s lips as his pants loosened. “Attaboy...” The praise brought even more colour to Richard’s cheeks as he closed his eyes. Unsure what to do with his hands, he moved one to grip the door while the other found Hank’s sleeve. Hank smirked as he looked across. “Cider makes you frisky, huh?” It wasn’t something Richard had considered before, but maybe that was the case.

“H-Henry, the road-” Hank hushed him softly as he worked the zipper down. The hand on his sleeve neither pulled him closer nor pushed him away. Richard was clearly trying to ground himself and keep some semblance of self-control. We’ll see about that...

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” Which was true. Despite the teasing of his hand, his eyes hadn’t left the road besides the occasional glance. A glance was probably all he should give, considering the growing tightness of his own jeans. The broken little moan that fled Richard’s lips as they hit the dirt road was sinful. Each bounce and rumble pressed his cock against Hank’s stroking hand, sending little darts of pleasure through the solid muscle. “Is that better, honey?” Richard bit his lip and nodded as Hank finally pulled his cock out. “You’re going to have to speak up for me.”

“Y-yeah.” Richard stole a quick glance at Hank to find his eyes still on the road, but there was a definite smirk on his lips. That was about all Richard had time for before the hand on his cock squeezed and his head fell back with a low moan. Heat and tingles were spreading through his body, leaving him feeling hazy and needy. The hand on Hank’s sleeve tightened, prompting Hank to flex his wrist. The pumping motion drew a hiss as Richard looked down at the large hand gripping his cock. It was a somewhat surreal experience. Before Hank, the majority of his encounters had taken place in a bedroom. He’d never been touched like this in a moving car, especially not while the one of them was driving. “H-Henry!” Doing this while driving really didn’t seem like a good idea. Hank remained less than concerned as he chuckled and rubbed his thumb over the dripping tip.

“Is that good, Richie?” It was hard to tell if the quivering was from Richard or the bounce of rubber on dirt as they trundled along the dark road. Since there were no streetlights, Hank had slowed to a snail’s pace. That also meant he got to tease Richard for longer. There was no clear plan once they got to the other end. The hand on his arm finally pulled him closer, a silent plea for more. The strangled little whine as he picked up the pace was all he needed in answer to his question. Richard braced himself with the arm on the door and lifted his ass from the seat, bucking into Hank’s firm grip. Hank chance a glance to the side and almost wished he hadn’t as he noticed his jeans had rucked down to his thighs, leaving that pert little ass on display as he bucked against his fist. “Attaboy, Richie.” Richard whined at the praise, turning his head and meeting his eyes with an open-mouthed whine. Fuck it!

The car stopped. Putting on the handbrake, Hank unbuckled his seatbelt and pushed his seat back, leaving more than enough room for Richard. Richard seemed to get at least a part of the message as he unbuckled his belt and knelt on his seat. Hank was greedy as Richard leaned over to rest his hands on his burly shoulders, instantly seeking his lips in the dark. Luckily, their eyes had long adjusted and they could see each other in the spacious cabin. Richard moaned against his lips as prickles teased his skin, and Hank took full advantage of that open mouth. Their tongues stroked and teased lazily, hot breaths and moans slipping between them as Richard moved to tangle a hand in Hank’s silver hair.

“Fuck, you’ve given me a problem of my own to deal with,” Hank gasped as he drew back. Richard’s lips quivered, teeth biting his bottom lip as Hank took one of his hands and led it down to the thick bulge in his jeans. Richard cursed under his breath as he stroked over the rough material. He’d taken that cock more than once at this point, but feeling the girth of it never ceased to amaze him. Being a much larger man, it was really no surprise Hank was so well endowed. What surprised him was the fact it could fit inside his petite body. It wasn’t always easy. He quivered at the thought of that first stretch; when Hank pulled him so wide, he thought he might tear. “Do you like that, honey?” Hank asked as he stroked Richard’s freshly shaven cheek. He smirked as he felt him nod against his palm. Of course he liked it. “Show me how much.” Hank smirked in the darkness, cock twitching as Richard immediately lowered himself.

He was still kneeling on the passenger’s seat, leaning over the centre console with his arms now braced on Hank’s thighs. Relief and pleasure rolled in Hank’s pelvis as he leaned back in his seat to give Richard a little more room. God, he was a sight. Nimble fingers popped his button as lithe arms braced his smaller body, bare ass up in the air, jeans around pooling his knees. His cardigan still covered him all the way to his pert ass, the material hanging open on either side. Hank couldn’t see his cock from their current angle, but he knew it was there, still solid and dripping between them as he knelt over his lap. A sigh of relief fled his lips as Richard pulled his cock out and ran his tongue over the flushed tip.

“Attaboy, Richie. Take it nice and deep.” Hank smirked at the strangled little whine of want that wrought and enjoyed the feeling of Richard’s lips stretching around the tip. His tongue lingered over the glans for a while, flicking and circling the tip before slowly sliding along the underside. With such an awkward angle, there was no way Richard could take it all, so it was really no surprised that one hand gripped the thick shaft to help. A grunt slipped out as Richard squeezed his cock and sucked, prompting Hank to lace a hand in his hair and tease his scalp. He wouldn’t push down just yet. It was only fair he gave him a chance.

His inexperience was pretty obvious as he tried to find his feet. His grip was firm, but there wasn’t much of a twist as he pumped, and although the sucking was nice, it was a little too hard. Murmuring words of praise, Hank gently moved to take Richard’s hand and guide him. The sucking paused as Hank’s hand closed over his own to lead his pumps. Rather than going straight up and down, there was a slight twist to the motion that Richard hadn’t noticed before. He tightened his fist and followed Hank’s lead, enjoying the way he hummed and sighed at the sensation.

“That’s it, Richie. Just like that.” Richard continued as Hank released him and tried to take in a little more cock to make up for it. “Don’t suck so hard. Take it nice and easy.” Humming around the tip, Richard did his best to comply. From what he remembered, it was better to suck while pulling off, so that’s what he did. He teased his tongue along the underside as he dropped before gently sucking as he drew back to the tip. Judging by the soft curse Hank let out, he assumed he was doing it right. More words of praise shortly followed, making Richard’s neglected cock twitch as he held his ass higher and dropped his head lower.

His jaw was starting to ache, and he’d only just started. Careful as he was, he couldn’t help his teeth occasionally teasing the silken skin of Hank’s cock, which led to a few inaudible gasps and hisses. It didn’t hurt, and Hank understood the girth issue. The thickness had always caused hiccups with intimacy, and Richard’s mouth was open as wide as it would go. He also knew he was being careful and stroked his head in reward. Despite the ache, Richard was determined to hold out. Hank had told him to show him how much he liked it, so that’s what he’d do. To give himself a brief reprieve, he pulled off and lathered the shaft with his tongue, licking from tip to base. Hank seemed to understand his need for a break and continued teasing his scalp with one hand while the other trailed a path down his back to stroke his bare ass.

“You like that, hm?” Hank smirked at the way Richard’s body twitched when his palm stroked and moulded the plush flesh of his ass. “Good boy.” Richard whined softly, lips returning to Hank’s cock as he shuffled his knees a little further apart. Hank cursed under his breath at the silent invitation, enjoying the way Richard lifted his ass higher for more attention. Squeezing his cheek, Hank stroked up to his lower back before slipping down to trace the seam of his ass. He almost chuckled at the choking sound Richard made as his fingers teased his tight ring. His breath stuttered, hips squirming as Hank kept up those gentle circles, never pushing too hard.

“H-Henry...” The breathy little moan slipped out as Richard pulled off, hand still pumping and gripping as he looked up at him with wet lips and needy eyes. Hank smirked, pressing just a little harder as the ring of muscle began to soften. Richard’s eyelids fluttered, mouth hanging open as he panted and whined. Lacing a hand in his hair, Hank slowly led him back to where he belonged. A grunt rumbled in his throat as his lips parted to stretch around his cock once more, head bobbing in time with the grip of his hand.

“You think you might spill soon, honey?” The pet name sent the usual shiver through Richard’s body, eliciting a needy whine in answer. It was hard to tell if that was a yes or a no, but Hank treated it as a yes. Without proper lubrication, he wouldn’t tease too much, but he did finally push the tip of his finger inside to stretch the ring. Richard let out a needy moan, hips nudging back for more. Hank wasn’t about to argue. He could take one finger without lube. He smirked as he pushed in all the way and let Richard buck and squirm against him, enjoying the continuous bob of his head as he sucked.

Richard choked as the tip brushed the back of his throat, but he didn’t stop. Not when Hank’s hand finally tightened in his hair and led him down. He did his best to breathe through it, huffing hot pants against Hank’s pelvis with each bob. Each swallow was messy, wet lips leaving drool on the shaft that coated his hand with each slick pump. Hank certainly wasn’t complaining. The extra moisture helped, making the slide of his hand smoother. Richard moaned as Hank fisted his hair and held him in place, working his large hips to fuck his mouth. He couldn’t reach his throat at this angle, but Richard was doing a good job of compensating with his twisting grip.

“Fuck, are you ready for it?” Hank barely waited to hear the answering hum before pulling Richard’s head high enough that he wouldn’t choke before spilling. He moaned low in his throat, watching Richard’s hand pump as he sucked and swallowed what he could. What he couldn’t finish escaped his lips as he pulled off, leaving little trickles at the corners of his mouth. Hank smirked as he pushed his finger as deep as it would go, gently leading Richard to shuffle across the centre console to rest his knees on the edge of his seat. “Sit up so I can see you.” Richard whined tiredly as he pushed himself up and settled a hand on the backrest.

Hank had never thought a cardigan could look hot, but seeing the soft woollen material hanging off Richard’s shoulder, buttons open to reveal the damp shirt beneath, quickly changed his mind. His cock was still solid, poking out at the bottom of his shirt and leaving little drips on his thighs as it bobbed and swayed. Teasing the finger in his passage, Hank moved his other hand to grip his twitching cock. Richard’s skin was flushed, cheeks damp from his earlier efforts, the evidence of which was still trickling down his chin as he bit his lip. Dark eyes closed, a low moan slipping out as he rolled his hips, grinding himself on Hank’s probing finger while fucking his hand.

“Attaboy, Richie.” The praise made his cock throb, drawing out another little whine as those dark eyes opened and locked with Hank’s. Cursing under his breath, Hank tightened his grip and pumped, enjoying the little shudders that ran through Richard’s body as he writhed on his knees. “That’s it, honey...Keep going.” He could feel his release coming as he pumped, how his cock throbbed against his palm. The buck of Richard’s hips quickened, moans getting louder as he reached back to urge his finger deeper. Hank answered the silent request, pushing in and teasing his passage until his spine finally arched. A needy whine fled his lips as he spilled, eyes closing in bliss as his seed hit the roof. Cursing under his breath, Hank change direction and painted his window and door, as well as his own jeans.

“S-sorry.” Richard panted for breath, cheeks flushed as he took in the mess and meekly wiped his chin on his cardigan sleeve. Hank couldn’t help himself. A loud guffaw filled the car as he withdrew his hands and searched around for something to clean up. Richard sheepishly righted his jeans, feeling self-conscious as he tucked himself away and fumbled into his seat on shaking legs.

“Don’t worry about it, the old girl needs a clean anyway. Check the glove-box, will you? There should be a rag or something in there.” Richard did as he was told, barely able to bring himself to look at the dripping stain above their heads. A thin stream was dripping down onto the centre console, leaving a small puddle on the dusty black plastic. Finding the filthy rag Hank was talking about, Richard pulled it out and blindly reached up. “I got it.” Hank’s hand covered his, pulling the rag free to clean the mess, though he couldn’t erase the wet patch on the felt cover. After wiping the roof and console, he turned his attention to the window, which would need a proper spray down later to properly clear the smears.

Having done his best, Hank tossed the rag on the dashboard, started the car, and rumbled on down the road towards their houses. Once he’d pulled into Richard’s yard and parked up, they both climbed out. There was something hesitant in Richard’s step as they met at the back of the truck. Despite the warmth, Richard wrapped his arms around himself, dark eyes flicking up to Hank before dropping to the dirt at their feet. Hank joined him in that awkwardness, unsure what to say or do. It wasn’t like Richard would come to his house, not with Sumo and Connor inside. Licking his lips, Richard finally lifted his head.

“Would you like to come in?” Hank faltered a little at that, eyes straying to his own house across the way.

“Sumo and Connor will be waiting for me.” He’d fed them before he left, but they were out in the yard, probably worn out and ready for bed by now. “You’re welcome to come to mine.” Richard didn’t even need to shake his head before Hank chuckled in understanding. He looked scared stiff at the suggestion. “Another time then.” Richard nodded and swallowed before turning his feet towards the front door. Excuse me? Hank raised an eyebrow before reaching out to snag the soft wool of Richard’s cardigan and pull him back.

Not giving him a moment to catch himself, Hank cupped his soft cheeks and kissed him. Richard swallowed his surprise with a moan, dark eyes fluttering as he gripped the front of Hank’s shirt. He barely caught his balance, leaning heavily on Hank’s chest and relying on the arm that soon snaked around his waist to hold him up. His knees buckled for a whole new reason as Hank’s whiskers teased his lips, soon followed by the flick of his tongue. Richard opened up instantly, sliding a hand up to fist in his hair as he leaned over him. It was almost cruel that he kissed him like that when he’d turned down his invitation to come inside.

“I-I’ll leave the door unlocked.” With that hurried grumble, Richard hurried up the front steps and into the house. I’ll leave the door unlocked? What the fuck sort of invitation is that? Despite the deep sigh and the heat in his cheeks, Richard was true to his word. Latching the door, he hurried off to bed.

Chapter Text

Richard yawned and stretched as he opened his eyes in the dim grey light of morning. Since it was summer, the day had stretched to the point that dawn began at four with the gradual brightening of the distant fields. A sigh rumbled in his throat as he lay on his side staring through the open window, almost glaring at the rolling clouds. The familiar feeling of not wanting to get up washed over him before he swiftly pushed it aside. No one else was going to clear the fields and get the horses out before Allen arrived, and if he didn’t do it today, he wouldn’t do it tomorrow. With that in mind, he pushed himself up with a quiet grumble.

“And where do you think you’re going at fuck-knows-o’clock in the morning?” Hank’s gruff voice objected as he threw his bare legs over the edge of the bed. Richard almost jumped out of his skin, having forgotten his little invitation the night before. It surprised him Hank had taken him up on it, especially since it appeared he’d simply climbed into bed to sleep with him. Sleep and nothing else. It wasn’t the first time. He’d stayed over the night of the fox attack too, offering comfort and cuddles after what had been a nasty shock. This was the first time he’d done it since though.

“The fields.” It seemed perfectly obvious to Richard, though he hesitated as he noticed Hank propping himself up on one arm. The light sheet had fallen to his bare waist, leaving his burly chest on full display. The thought of stroking his fingers through the soft layer of curls was more than a little tempting.

“They can wait an hour or two.” Richard’s brow furrowed at that. It was true they could wait, but it was also true that he’d fall out of his routine if he didn’t stick to it. “You’re seriously going to leave me to go shovel shit in a field?” Well, when he put it like that...Hank chuckled softly as Richard returned to lie beside him and wrapped an arm around his slim waist. Richard turned to face him, shuffling closer until he could rest his head against his chest. Hank knew they wouldn’t be able to stay like that for long in the summer heat, but there was something to be said for the feeling of hot breath on his chest and the clammy touch of Richard’s skin.

Richard usually wore cotton pyjamas to bed, but he’d foregone the extra layer last night, crawling beneath the sheet in just his boxers. Hank was similarly dressed, the tight material hugging his ass as Richard’s hand crept over his hip. Hank huffed softly, teasing his fingers through Richard’s hair as he nuzzled his pecs. It was a lazier sort of affection than usual. Neither of them were in the mood that morning, still satisfied from the night before. It was sort of nice, being together like this without the expectation of anything else. Hank could only guess Richard felt the same, because it wasn’t long before his breaths softened, and as Hank looked down to check, he found him sleeping soundly once more.

This was actually the first time he’d really examined Richard’s face. He looked a lot younger when he was sleeping, a few of the lines on his face thinning out as his muscles relaxed. His lips parted slightly, leaving soft huffs of breath on his skin that would soon become unpleasant in the heat. Running his fingers through his hair, Hank pushed the fluffed locks away from his brow. It was only now he noticed how long and thick his eyelashes were. They curved to brush his cheeks, barely moving as his eyes twitched. A gentle murmur slipped out, lips thinning slightly as he stirred and slipped into slumber once more. As he stroked his cheek, Hank could feel the rough prickle of morning stubble growing through, something Richard usually righted straight away. He truly was perfectly unremarkable. The definition of ordinary, but that was what Hank found so charming. How he had effortlessly captivated him despite his average looks.

Hank was content to lie beside him, settling down and holding him against his chest. The light breeze from the open window gave a little relief to the clammy heat of their skin, making the closeness more bearable. He wasn’t sure he fell asleep, but he did rest his tired blue eyes and enjoy the sound of breaking dawn. Nines’ obnoxious squawks were soon piercing the air, followed by Gavin’s distant response. It was rather shocking that all the noise didn’t rouse Richard at all, which made Hank wonder if he was sleeping enough.

The morning crows soon ended, and Hank could only guess he had fallen asleep himself, because the next thing he knew there was a light bang downstairs where the back door had opened and shut. His eyes pinched at the noise, sleepily registering someone else was in the house as the sun streamed through the window. Footsteps on the stairs roused him further, and then a familiar voice was calling for Richard in the hall. Richard didn’t wake up until a knock sounded on the bedroom door. His whole body jerked in shock, dark eyes heavy with sleep as they snapped open, and he rolled onto his back with a horrified hum.

“Richie? Are you okay in there?” Allen’s voice called. Richard’s eyes widened as he looked at Hank like a deer in headlights. Hank wasn’t sure what the big deal was, unless he really did have something going on with Allen. Sitting up, Richard stammered a little, looking around for something to pull on.

“U-uh-yeah-I’m fine!” He sounded less than convincing, making Hank raise a questioning eyebrow as he settled himself against the headboard to enjoy the show. Cursing under his breath, Richard looked at the clock and saw it was almost ten in the morning. That was six hours later than he usually got up. No wonder Allen had hurried straight up to the house. The fields hadn’t been shovelled, and the horses were unfed, still locked in their stalls and probably kicking their doors with impatience.

"Are you sure you're alright? It isn’t like you to-” The words died on  his lips as he opened the door and stepped inside looking worried. That worry soon changed to wide-eyed surprise as he took in the sight of Hank lounging against the headboard and Richard leaning over the side of the bed to grab a pair of discarded jeans. With their state of undress, it wasn’t really a mystery what was going on. Richard cursed under his breath and half glared as Allen’s surprise melted into a smug smirk. He crossed his arms and legs, grinning widely as he leaned on the doorframe and nodded a polite greeting to Hank. “Hank. Good to see you again. So...late night?”

“Don’t.” Hank smirked at Richard’s warning as he glared over his shoulder and covered his tired eyes. Allen stifled a laugh from the door, still grinning as Richard finally snagged his jeans and pulled them on. “Sorry, I should have been out hours ago.”

“Oh-no-no, don’t rush on my account! I’ll just go and start breakfast.” Something told him Richard would need the boost that morning, either from his activities the night before or the shock of being woken up like that. He backed out before Richard could object, closing the door behind him. Rubbing his eyes, Richard cursed under his breath. It felt like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t, but that wasn’t really true. He and Hank were both single adults, so there wasn’t really anything to worry about there, and although Hank was older, it was only around ten years. That gap meant a lot less with him being in his forties than it would have a few decades ago. A twenty-year-old dating someone in their thirties was bordering on taboo, but a man in his forties dating someone in their fifties? No one batted an eyelash.

“At least you don’t have to tell him now,” Hank teased with a shrug, though that wasn’t a concern to Richard. Allen already knew about their first little tryst, but he hadn’t shared anything since. It had never crossed his mind to tell Allen about whatever this thing with Hank was, but it wasn’t a secret, either. Now it crossed his mind he couldn’t help but wonder...What is this thing with Hank? They’d slept with each other enough at this point for it to be considered a thing. But what kind of thing was it? Were they dating or casually hooking up at any given opportunity? They’d done dinner a couple of times, and Hank had stayed over, but what did that mean? Maybe Allen could help him with those answers. He’d always been better at this sort of thing, which wasn’t surprising considering his good looks. “Unless you were planning on keeping it a secret?” Hank seemed a little troubled by the thought.

“No, not really...I just hadn’t thought about it.” Hank wasn’t sure if he should be surprised by that or not. Like Richard, he didn’t have many people to confide in. The closest he had these days was Rose, and he hadn’t been to the pub on his own for quite a while now. Not since this thing with Richard had started. It was probably a side effect of them being loners that made sharing things like this seem sort of trivial. What did it matter to Allen or Rose that they were sleeping together? “Will you join us for breakfast?” It was hard to tell if it was a question or an invitation, but Hank took it as the latter.

“Sure. You want to shower first?” They were both a little sticky from the night before. The summer heat was awful, leaving old sweat cloying on their skin. With a nod, Richard led the way into the bathroom and left Hank to turn on the shower while he shaved and brushed his teeth. By the time he was done, Hank had already scrubbed himself clean. Richard paused by the tub, watching the suds trickling down his body until Hank noticed him. “You going to take your pants off and get in here, or...” He let the question hang with a grin as he ran his fingers through his sodden locks and waited.

It was still something of a treat, watching Richard strip himself. He was coy, gingerly covering himself and looking at his feet as he climbed in the tub, despite how many times they’d seen each other naked by now. Hank pulled him under the spray, enjoying the feeling of having his petite body against his chest. Uncertain arms locked around his neck and tentative lips sought his own. They both enjoyed their closeness throughout the brief shower, and were soon on their way down to breakfast, Hank once again wearing clothes from the night before. If he keeps coming over like this, maybe I should offer him some closet space here...Next door wasn’t far, but surely it would be more convenient to shower and change straight into new clothes.

“Sit down, sit down, it’s nearly ready!” Allen greeted as they entered the kitchen, with Richard leading the way. His brow furrowed as he took a seat at the island counter, which doubled as a breakfast bar. The smell of bacon made his mouth water, but he also wondered where it came from. He certainly hadn’t bought any recently. He could only guess Allen had stopped by the shops on his way over. It wasn’t unusual for him to turn up out of the blue with a stock of food to foist on him. Putting food in his fridge was often the only way to make him eat. If it was there and it would go off, he had to do something with it.

“Wow, you’re quite the cook,” Hank complimented as he watched Allen plating the three large breakfasts. There was bacon and eggs, sausages, beans, tomatoes, mushrooms, and stacks of buttered toast. Each plate looked big enough to feed a man twice Hank’s size, which was a little concerning to Richard, who usually ate a third of that. While Allen finished plating, Richard slinked around him to get the teapot ready. Allen had already boiled the water, knowing he’d want a cup of tea with breakfast. As Allen thanked him and continued plating, Hank turned his attention to Richard, leaning his chin on his hand as he watched him perform his own private tea ceremony. Everything was measured and precise, from spooning the leaves to pouring the water.

“You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.” Richard felt a little awkward at having his friend fuss over him so much. It was a lot of work, cooking a meal like this.

“If I didn’t cook like this, you wouldn’t eat for a week!” That was an exaggeration. The longest he’d gone before was two days, at which point he’d almost fainted right off his horse. Unfortunately, Allen had been there and hadn’t let him forget it since. That was over a decade ago. He was a lot better about it these days. His meals were never big, but he always ate something. Hank didn’t know the story behind this fussing, but he wholeheartedly agreed.

“You’re so thin you look like the wind would snap you in two!” Richard pouted at that as he poured out three cups of tea. His own remained black, but both Hank and Allen took milk and sugar. It always surprised him how Allen maintained his weight with the sweet tooth he had. He added three cubes to his cup and ate a fourth straight from the bowl.

“And here I thought you liked being able to snap me in two,” Richard shot back, hiding himself behind his cup as Allen snorted and pushed a full plate across to him. It really was too much for him. Two eggs, three rashers of bacon, three sausages, a full tomato, three large mushrooms, a sea of beans, and four slices of toast was pretty much two breakfasts. It was unlikely he’d finish it all, but it was Allen’s cooking, so he’d put in a valiant effort. He couldn’t help moaning at the first bite. Fried breakfasts were a rare treat, and no one cooked them like Allen. Allen knew it, too. He couldn’t help feeling smug as he sipped his tea and watched Richard nibbling his way through the plate. Hank was far less delicate, taking large bites and eating like they were on a timer. He’d finished before Richard had even managed a quarter of his food. Despite that, he was polite. He remained at the table, sharing a polite conversation with Allen about their plans for the day.

“I’ll be checking on Bessie first. She’ll be having her foal soon, and I want to see how far along she is.” Hank remembered from the night before that Richard had been worried. He didn’t need to worry anymore. Allen had already brought in his overnight bag, which was packed with enough clothes for at least three days, just in case there were complications. “This might be a good time to get some of the deep cleans done, too. It’s not often that I stay for more than a day at a time, so it’s a good time to pick up on those big jobs.” By big jobs, Hank knew he meant the heavy lifting jobs he didn’t want Richard to worry about.

“Let me know if you have anything you need help with. Some jobs are easier with two.” Richard wasn’t sure if he was being neighbourly or if Allen had wormed his way into Hank’s good graces with his cooking. Either way, Allen gladly accepted his offer and assured him he’d let him know if he needed help. Richard, already a slow eater, slowed further as he reached the halfway point. There was something homely and comfortable about having both Hank and Allen at the island. They were taking up just one corner. Allen was on the end with Richard at the corner, and then Hank. It was pretty cosy with all of them so close together. A fine way to pass the morning.

Seeing him picking at his food, Hank finally took pity on him and helped by finishing the sausage, bacon, and egg he had left, leaving him with just the mushrooms and toast. Allen didn’t judge him too much. He had managed to work his way through two-thirds of a plate that was really far too large. It was a wonder he hadn’t given up sooner, but Allen knew he was a sucker for fried breakfasts, even at the height of summer. Clapping him on the shoulder, Allen took the plates and went to wash up, insisting he was fine and suggesting they check on the chickens. That seemed like a good plan to Richard, who was eager to see how Nines and the two injured hens were doing.

Hank helped him climb over the fence and joined him in the pen. The yard was strangely quiet without Connor, who was still shut in the house. The two hens had improved a lot. They’d perked up a little since the day before, and though their wounds weren’t healed, they had scabbed over. Nines was still feeling a little sorry for himself, nursing a broken wing, but the cuts were at least starting to heal. As for the rest of his chickens, they scuttled their way out of the coop the moment the door was opened. Having recovered from the shock of the attack, it seemed they’d developed cabin fever from being inside for so long. It was nice to see them out and about, happily clucking and pecking at the earth.

“You think a visit from Gavin might cheer him up?” Richard asked worriedly as he lifted Nines in his arms and stroked his comb. He wasn’t as pathetic as when he’d first come home, but he still seemed miserable and out of sorts as he sat in Richard’s arms. He didn’t flap or kick, and his head seemed to droop a lot more than usual. Hank hummed thoughtfully as he came to join him, checking Nines’ wounds again and glancing across at his own coop.

“We can try, but I told you, chickens can be nasty fuckers.” It wouldn’t be the first time Nines and Gavin had fought, either. They’d even had a tiff just minutes after their first little tryst. There was really no telling how they might react. Since Nines usually took the male role, this may become an opportunity for Gavin to fight his way to the top. Richard seemed worried, but he was also worried about leaving Nines as he was. He seemed pretty depressed, possibly because he’d been alone for two days. “I’ll go let Connor and Sumo out and bring Gavin over. We can stick around the watch them, and if Gavin misbehaves, I’ll take him back.” That seemed reasonable enough.

Richard sat on Nines’ closed crate, still cradling him in his arms as Hank left. It was really no surprise when a series of loud barks sounded a few moments later, and Connor went careening across the yard. It didn’t take long for him to notice Richard in the pen. He arrived at the mesh, panting and snuffling, and settled down a few moments later. Richard did his best to ignore the big brown eyes that stared at him hopefully through the mesh, looking away from the paw that raised to scratch at the wire. No way was he going to go over there and put his fingers through the mesh. Not a chance.

Hank arrived not long after, with Gavin tucked securely under his arm. Richard swallowed nervously as he put the glossy brown rooster down, holding Nines a little closer at first. Gavin flapped and skittered over to hop and claw at his feet, clearly demanding he be allowed to see his mate. Richard was slow as he held Nines out, ready to lift him up again if Gavin pecked. Holding them face to face, he watched as the roosters bobbed their heads and rubbed beaks. Their coos became softer, almost like they were talking, and Richard felt a little happier about putting Nines on the ground.

Gavin flapped and hopped around him, and seemed perplexed when Nines didn’t return the gesture. Nines opened his unbound wing, but he couldn’t fluff and flap as he usually did. He seemed smaller somehow, dejected and sorry for himself. Where he usually pecked the earth and tossed Gavin treats, he now pattered around feeling lost and uncertain. It seemed Gavin understood something was wrong as he clucked and shuffled up to him. Richard watched, ready to step in, as Gavin nudged and nestled himself against Nines’ chest. It was almost like he was nuzzling him, offering comfort and reassurance. Nines lowered his head on Gavin's neck, gently groomed his brown feathers.

Hank seemed relaxed as he joined him, not at all worried about Gavin attacking Nines. Gavin seemed determined to cheer him up as he scratched and pecked the earth, digging up whatever morsels he could find and bringing them to Nines. Rather than tossing them, he held them up directly to his beak, as if he thought he was too weak to bend down and get them by himself. Nines accepted the affection, greedily eating what he was given and stroking Gavin’s beak in thanks. He finally seemed to get a little pep in his step, walking with a little more confidence as Gavin hopped around him.

Richard watched curiously as Gavin opened his wings and shuffled around Nines, puffing his neck and fluffing his comb. His green tail feathers almost glistened in the late morning sun, and as he puffed himself up, he looked bigger than usual. Nines fluffed what feathers he could, but with his wing strapped, there was only so much he could do. He whipped his tail feathers almost flirtatiously, turning in a circle and cooing. Gavin followed, still beating his wings and puffing his chest until Nines finally settled on the ground and opened his free wing in invitation.

Gavin was tentative as he approached, taking in the sight of Nines’ bowed form with a calculating air. It was almost like he understood his injury as he hopped on his back, apparently doing his best to keep his weight on the uninjured side. Nines coos seemed mournful at first, head lowered in a show of self-pity. Gavin, ever attentive, fluffed his tail and settled down to pluck and tease Nines’ neck feathers, encouraging him to lift his head as he got into position. It always surprised Richard how fast it was. They barely seemed to even touch and Gavin had hopped down and hurried to the front to nudge and nuzzle Nines’ chest. It was almost sweet, the way he settled on the ground and let Nines use his back as a pillow.

Chapter Text

It had been a good day. Gavin had been good as gold for the whole visit, which had lasted two hours because Richard couldn’t bring himself to separate them. He wasn’t really needed at the stables while Allen cleaned, and it didn’t seem fair to keep Nines cooped up in his crate all day. Because of his injuries, he didn’t feel safe leaving him alone with Gavin, so either he or Hank had to be there to watch them. Hank had his regular duties to attend to, so after making sure Richard was alright staying behind for a while, he left him sitting in the pen.

For the first thirty minutes or so, the roosters didn’t move from their previous position, huddled together and apparently sleeping. After that, they took to wandering the pen, idly pecking the dirt. The hens in the next pen clucked and walked along the fence, apparently checking on Nines themselves since they hadn’t seen him for a while. They certainly seemed to remember him as they flapped and clucked, but none of them moved to attack the mesh. It almost seemed like they were having a conversation as they cooed and bobbed their heads. Gavin seemed thoroughly entranced by Nines’ sling, prodding and plucking the blue material with his beak. Richard watched carefully, but he didn’t pluck at Nines’ feathers, and the exploratory tugs didn’t damage the sling either.

After walking around for a while, they settled in another heap by the fence, Gavin once again offering himself as a pillow for Nines’ head. Nines seemed more relaxed with Gavin than he had sitting alone in his crate, and Gavin was acting the way Richard thought chickens should. He was worried and attentive, doing his best to offer comfort and support where he could. He gently groomed Nines’ black feathers, running his beak through them and removing any loose ones to allow for better healing. Although he must have found the wounds on his chest, he didn’t peck and make them bleed. He was careful as he worked, cooing and nuzzling the whole time as Nines blinked and nodded off.

It wasn’t until Hank returned and told him he’d been sitting there for over two hours that Richard finally lifted Nines and returned him to his crate, receiving a chorus of angry squawks in return. Gavin, very vocal in his objections, was wrangled by Hank and carried off with a disgruntled fluff of his feathers. Nines cooed mournfully, still feeling sorry for himself, but didn’t fight as Richard lowered him into the crate and shut the lid. It was only fair that the two injured hens got their fair share of free time, and he didn’t need to watch them since they were already housed together. With that in mind, he left the two hens pecking the dirt and returned to his own yard.

“Call if you need anything, alright?” Hank gruffed as he helped him over the fence. Responding with a small nod, Richard hesitated to leave. They didn’t have any set plans to see each other later, but they probably would in the evening. Hank always seemed to know when he was around the coop.

“Sure...I’ll see you later then.” That seemed to be it as Richard turned away, only Hank’s voice called him back.

“Hey! Come here.” Richard’s insides fluttered at the low purr, feeling jittery as he turned back to face Hank. Hank remained where he was, leaning on the fence with his foot resting on the lower rung. Licking his lips, Richard returned to the fence and looked up as Hank leaned over to taste his lips. It was a chaste press, a brief kiss to see him on his way and leave him wanting. Hank’s lips softened into an affectionate smile as they parted, enjoying the dopey look on Richard’s face as he stepped back and hurried off to the stables.

“So...You and Hank.” Allen didn’t even give him time to catch his breath as he walked in, leaning on his pitchfork and taking a break from scooping up the old straw. He’d barely started, having had to feed and release all the horses before he could begin. Richard’s extended absence hadn’t passed him by. It never usually took him this long to see to the chickens, so Allen could only guess he’d been with Hank. A smirk curled his handsome lips as he looked Richard up and down to find him far less ruffled than he’d expected.

“Yeah-um...I guess so.”

“What do you mean, guess?” Richard sighed, folding his arms and looking thoughtful. There was definitely something going on with Hank. He just didn’t know what it was. Were they dating? Were they fucking? Was there an expectation of more on either side? “What have you done so far? I mean, you’re obviously sleeping together!” That much was certainly true, figuratively and literally. It wasn’t every night, but it was becoming more regular. Maybe too regular to be thought of as just fucking.

“Well, there was the time I told you about when we fucked in the field, and a few times since the storm...He stayed over after the fox attack while Nines was at the vet, and he introduced me to his dog.”

“He what?” Allen said it like he’d just confessed to a crime, and he was looking at him like he’d grown two heads. “He got you to go near his dog? The jumpy one?” He couldn’t imagine it. Richard would have run a mile at being anywhere near that cute little collie. It seemed to dawn on Richard what he meant as he made a soft oh sound and shook his head.

“No, Sumo. The old one.” Allen seemed a lot more interested in that as he broke out into a grin.

“He has three dogs?” Don’t remind me...It was one of the things that would likely cause friction if this ever became a genuine relationship. Having Hank over was fine, but he wouldn’t always be able to stay. It wouldn’t be fair to the dogs, and Richard wouldn’t want them to be lonely or neglected. The two that lived in the house seemed pretty friendly. “You never let me introduce you to my dogs.” There was almost a pout in his tone. Richard balked at the very thought.

“Those dogs are huge!” They were a lot like Sixty in size, only less fluffy and a grubby brown colour. They were also terrifying. Huge hounds that barked as soon as they saw you, and growled as you got near. They were excellent guard dogs for the stables, but not the friendliest of beasts. He assumed that was why they were always locked away when he came over. It wouldn’t be good advertising to have one of their patron’s jockeys injured.

“They’re puppies!” Richard clicked his tongue at the notion. They were great, gnashing beasts! “What’s Sumo like?” Allen didn’t think Richard would be well versed in breeds, but he could at least tell him about the encounter.

“He’s pretty big, but old. I think that’s why he chose that one...He’s one of those mountain rescue dogs. The one with the barrel...A Beethoven dog!” Allen snorted. That was about as perfect a description as you could give without naming the breed directly.

“A Saint Bernard.”

“Right...H-he wasn’t so bad...” It was a grudging admission, at best. He could still remember how terrifying it had been, watching Hank inching his way closer and closer. His heart had just about leapt out of his chest when Sumo pressed his flank up against his leg. He was so big he’d almost knocked him over. Hank’s gentle praise still rumbled in his ears, and the feeling of his rough hand ghosted over his own, guiding his strokes. The softness of Sumo’s fur also lingered. He’d expected it to be a little rougher.

“How close did you get?” Allen had never known Richard to get within two feet of a dog without running a mile.

“Right here. I stroked him.” There was more than a little pride in his voice as he patted his thigh. His chest had even puffed a little, and Allen let out a low whistle in response. That was a big deal for Richard. Hank must have the patience of a saint to work his way up to that in a single day. He couldn’t help wondering how many times Richard had backed off before allowing the dog that close. That certainly made Hank a keeper in his book. The only reason he could think of for Hank to go to such efforts was to get Richard used to the dogs so he could invite him over.

“Anything else you’ve done together?”

“Oh, we went to dinner again last night, and you already know he came over afterwards.” Allen nodded along thoughtfully. Two dinners wasn’t bad. That and introducing Richard to his dog suggested there was a certain amount of genuine interest there on Hank’s part. He’d joined them for breakfast that morning too, and Allen had to admit, he didn’t dislike the man. He was respectful and good natured, kind and helpful with a good sense of humour. A good match for Richard. His friend had never had much luck with romance. He hadn’t had much interest in it, either. Has that changed in this case? It certainly seemed like he was smitten. He’d have to be to let a dog get that close.

“Are you interested in more than that?” Richard shrugged evasively. It wasn’t something he’d given much thought. The idea of a long-term relationship never occurred to him because it just never happened. His encounters had always been fleeting or fuelled by fame and fortune. His fame and fortune. Allen had seen off more than one of his past partners after he’d figured out their motives. “How do you feel during these meetups? Do you like spending time with him?” A light fluttering sensation filled his stomach at the question.

“Yeah.” He wouldn’t agree to it if he didn’t want to.

“How about spending more time with him?” Richard nodded again. He enjoyed spending time with Hank enough that he wanted to spend more time. “Time without sex?”

“Of course!” He wasn’t a sex fiend. Sleeping and talking with Hank were just as stimulating as their more salacious activities. A lot of their encounters had been sexual so far, but wasn’t that just part of dating? Connections started with a lot of sex, and if there was something more underneath, the relationship continued after the sexual fascination passed. He wasn’t entirely sure where he and Hank were in that cycle. Allen seemed pleased with his answer, if a little surprised.

“I think this is the first time you’ve given a definitive answer.” Richard blinked in surprise. It was? He’d never thought about it before, but Allen was probably right. He’d enjoyed sex with people before, sometimes more than once, but it never led to anything beyond that. What was so special about Hank? To most, he’d just be considered a grizzled old farmer with a generous gut. He had a gruff nature, but there was kindness underneath. His advice and help around the stables had been invaluable. He was a good listener and genuinely interested in him. Genuine interest was hard to come by for those as dull as Richard. Are we just settling for each other then? Did Hank have trouble finding people out here? That was a definite possibility, but did that matter?

“How do I know if he likes me?” He liked his body, that much was obvious. They’d barely kept their hands off each other since these encounters started!

“Oh, he likes you. I watched him staring at you for most of breakfast!” But did that mean he liked him or that he liked how he looked? “Whatever this thing is, I think you should keep it going. It’s about time you had someone around to take care of you.” Take care of me? He made it sound like he was incapable! It wasn’t like he hadn’t lived alone looking after himself all this time! Sure, Allen helped with the stables and checked on him, made sure he ate, put him to bed when he was sick and-Am I incapable? Now that he thought about it, Allen had been looking out for him for years.

“Is that your way of telling me you’re getting sick of me?” He’d meant it to sound light-hearted, but something of his worry must have seeped into his tone as Allen shouldered his pitchfork and walked over to ruffle his hair.

"Never. You’re like the little brother I never had.” Richard huffed and batted his hand away, doing his best to tidy the mess he’d left behind.

“There’s only seven months between us!” The reminder didn’t affect Allen at all as he chuckled and returned to the stall he was mucking out. Richard joined him as usual, still mulling over what he should do about Hank. Should he ask him his intentions or let things develop naturally? Leaving it was certainly easier. The worst that could happen was Hank losing interest. His stomach dropped at the thought, a new and disheartening sensation. If it happens, it happens. There was no use getting upset over it.

While Allen handled completely replacing the straw bedding, Richard cleaned the water bowls, refilled the hayracks, and scrubbed the floors and walls clean once the old straw had been removed. It took them so long that the sun was dimming by the time they reached the last stall and Hank stopped by to drop off the newly repaired ladder for the barn. Since they were busy, he offered to take a look up there by himself and see if there were any gaps in the roof that needed filling. Richard offered his tired thanks and joined Allen in cleaning up the last stall. By then, it was time to bring the horses in and settle them down for the night.

“How is she?” Richard asked as he leaned through the open doorway of Bessie’s temporary stall and watched Allen examining her. His grey eyes were intense and focused as he felt her flank and belly, clicking and hushing as she snorted and shuffled her hooves in agitation. Horses didn’t like an audience during birthing. It was normal to leave them overnight and find the foal the next day. Richard was right when he said her teats were waxing. She’d definitely be giving birth soon, possibly that very night.

“She’s certainly ready...I’ll make a few trips through the night to check in, but it could be tonight or tomorrow.” He didn’t think it would take any longer than that, especially not with the way she was stepping from hoof to hoof and ducking her head. Allen stepped out so he didn’t stress her further, and Richard gifted her an extra helping off feed. Bessie wasn’t about to turn down extra food, and greedily munched away as the bag was slipped over her nose. “I can finish up here. Why don’t you go over and see to the chickens? I’ll meet you back at the house for dinner.” Richard wasn’t going to argue with that. Heading out of the stables, he wandered across to the barn, where he could see a light shining in the loft.

“Hank?” he called as he put his head through the door. There was a thud that made him think he’d probably dropped the torch in surprise. “How’s it looking up there?” Hank hurriedly appeared, looking a little flustered as he looked over the edge of the platform.

“No-uh, no holes that I can see...Got a lot of old stuff up here though. I’ll go through it and see what’s worth keeping and what’s not.” That seemed reasonable. Curious, Richard approached the bottom of the newly repaired ladder as Hank turned off the flashlight and got ready to climb down. He didn’t need to worry about the ladder falling. It had been fastened at the top to keep it in place.

“What sort of stuff?”

“Oh, just some old equipment storage. Don’t worry about it. Anything worth keeping, I’ll clean up and show you later. It’s pretty cluttered up there right now,” Hank said as he climbed down. He must have been working hard if the colour in his cheeks was anything to go by. That was probably from climbing around and moving whatever equipment was up there. As soon as Hank’s booted feet touched the ground, he looped an arm around his shoulders and led him towards the doors. “Come on, we must be pretty late for the chickens. Where’s Allen?”

“Finishing up in the stables. It looks like Bessie might have her foal tonight.” They stopped long enough to bolt the barn doors before heading back to the coop. Feeding the chickens didn’t last even half as long as Richard would have liked, and soon Hank was climbing over the fence to go home. It seemed he wouldn’t be staying that night. It wasn’t too surprising. Connor and Sumo would probably be lonely, and Allen was staying over, so it wasn’t like he’d be alone. Seeing him coming, Connor zipped over to the fence, barking and planting his paws on Hank’s thighs the moment he was over.

“Down, boy, down,” Hank chuckled as he ruffled Connor’s fur and set a hand on his head. Tail wagging, Connor did as he was told and sat looking back and forth between them. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” There was something almost regretful in his eyes as he leaned on the fence. Richard shuffled a little closer, wary of Connor as ever. “Why do you always look like that?” Hank asked with  more than a little affection.

“Like what?” Chestnut eyes widened in surprise as Hank stroked his cheek with a rugged hand.

“Like you think you’ll never see me again.” He didn’t even realise he was doing it. Unsure how to answer, Richard remained silent until Hank leaned closer and prickling whiskers teased his lips. Hank hummed as Richard stood on tiptoe to press closer and wrap his arms around his neck, and took the chance to run his tongue along his lips. He was shortly rewarded as Richard opened up to allow him entry and a hand laced in his hair to pull him closer.

It was with much regret that they finally drew back and parted ways. Allen must have entered through the front door, because the smell of cooking was already wafting through the hallway when Richard entered. He was making a simple spaghetti and tomato sauce dish. Something quick and easy, with a full pot of sauce that could be saved for a few extra meals. From the smouldering look on his face, Richard knew he’d been watching through the kitchen window. Aside from some minor teasing, the evening passed quietly.

Allen was halfway through a crime novel of some sort, and Richard was content reading the newspaper Allen had brought for him. After they’d joined forces to complete the crossword, they decided it was time for bed. Allen stepped out briefly to check on Bessie, who was pacing her stall, feeling restless, but otherwise normal. Once he got back, they went to bed. Richard to his room, and Allen to a spare room at the front of the house overlooking the front door and the path to the stables, with an alarm set for three hours’ time.

It was barely three thirty when a firm hand quickly roused Richard from sleep. Half-asleep and bewildered, he followed Allen’s hurried instructions to pull on some clothes and come to the stables. He seemed pretty excited, which was a sign to Richard that things were moving along with Bessie. His mood seemed to suggest something positive was going on, and that quickly spread to Richard as he pulled on his clothes and followed him out.

“It’s starting! You have to see this.” Allen had seen it before, of course, but he knew it would be a new experience for Richard. Richard couldn’t help feeling anxious as he followed Allen into the stables and hovered quietly outside the stall. Because she was likely to give birth, Bessie was in a larger stall with lower railings so they could see inside. It gave her plenty of room to stand and sit, and pace back and forth. From the state of the straw, Richard could tell she’d been doing her fair share of pacing. Her reddish fur was glossy from the heat, dark tail rising and flicking, and beneath her tail, Richard was shocked to see two small hooves protruding. “It’s looking good so far.”

“How can you tell?” Richard joined Allen in whispering, as if the slightest noise might bother the already stressed mare. They stood a little way down the walkway, keeping their distance and staying at the edge of Bessie’s vision. She knew they were there, but they weren’t pressing in and staring at her. She grunted and snorted, taking a few steps as if she thought that might help. As she turned again, they could now see more of the two little legs, hooves neatly hanging towards the ground.

“See the hooves? Those are the front legs, and they’re pointing down, so it looks like the foal is in the right position.” Richard didn’t even realise there was a wrong position, though when he thought about it, a foal would be impossible to force out sideways. “The head should be next.” There was something enchanting and horrific about watching, even at a distance. Allen was right about the head. He could just see the snout pushing its way out when Bessie let out what sounded like a rather pained whinny and lay down on her side.

“Is she alright? Should I call the vet?” She certainly didn’t seem alright with all that huffing and panting. A hand on his arm reassured him somewhat. Allen didn’t look worried as they remained out of the way, monitoring from a distance.

“She should be fine. It’s normal for mares to lie down for the last part.” The last part? The foal’s nose was barely showing! Allen checked his watch and insisted again that everything was fine so far. Richard took his word for it, hovering anxiously at his shoulder as Bessie huffed and grunted. Allen watched like a hawk, checking his watch the whole time. Was the timing important? If it went on too long, did it mean there was a problem? More and more of the sodden foal appeared, until with a final push, half the body seem to be ejected at once. Seeing the foal appear, Allen stepped a little closer and squinted through the bars. The poor, sodden thing remained in a small heap, making him think he might have to go inside.

“I-is it breathing?” Richard appeared beside him, looking between Allen and the unmoving foal. With a tiny, wet sound, the foal lifted its small head, though not for more than a second. From the wetness of its breath, it sounded like there was a little trouble, and Bessie didn’t seem ready to sit up just yet.

“Wait here.” She probably wouldn’t want both of them in there. Grabbing a small towel he’d left ready, Allen slipped inside, doing his best not to make the door creak. Bessie noticed straight away, of course, but made no move to stop him as he crept closer. “Good girl, you did so well,” he praised softly as he approached the foal, which was two shades darker than Bessie with all the birthing fluids. He wouldn’t clean off too much. That was Bessie’s job, but he did run the towel over the foals face and nose, thoroughly cleaning off the thick gunk around its nose and mouth.

As soon as the foal took a clean breath, Allen slinked his way out again to stand watch. Although she didn’t stand yet, Bessie pushed herself up enough to lick at the foal’s neck and back. Richard remained at the bars, quite enchanted as he watched the small foal gradually coming to life. Now it could breathe, it seemed to gain strength. It flopped on its side, bringing itself a little closer to Bessie’s tongue as she licked. Within a few minutes, Bessie finally hauled herself to her feet and bathed her foal more thoroughly.

“Is it over?” The foal was born, so it had to be, right?

“Not quite...The foal needs to stand first, and I want to make sure the placenta was passed.” If it wasn’t, that could cause Bessie trouble later, and it was hard to tell from outside. Allen huffed softly, seeing about a dozen questions forming in Richard’s head. “It’ll probably take another hour for the foal to stand, and then I’ll check Bessie over...We need to give them some bonding time first.” Richard nodded his understanding. She’d just pushed out a whole new horse. She was probably exhausted and more than a little irritable. Allen backed off a little as Bessie snorted, bringing Richard with him.

“Should I call the vet to check her over?”

“Not yet...So long as the next couple of hours go as planned, the vet can come later on today or tomorrow. Why don’t you hold off until normal opening time? Things are going well so far.” With them now standing at a distance, Bessie had fully turned her attention to the new foal, which had already given its first small bleating cry. Richard was torn between wanting to stay and watch, and wanting to get the fields cleaned up for later. Allen assured him the fields weren’t going anywhere, and how often did you get to see a foal being born? With that in mind, Richard remained outside the stall and watched as the foal grew more and more restless.

It seemed instinctual as the foal started moving its legs and tried to lift itself. Allen seemed relaxed and unconcerned. Each of the joints were bending as they should, and even as it fell, it was learning how to carry its weight. Richard felt a little bad watching it struggle. The first time it barely lifted its chest, and even when the front legs were ready, its back legs couldn’t take the weight. Richard grinned as it finally managed its first step. It fell down straight away, but a step was a step. Allen chuckled beside him and watched with folded arms as the foal finally got itself up and nosed its way under Bessie’s swollen belly to find her teats.

“First feed, right on schedule.” That sounded promising to Richard as Allen checked his watch again. “I’ll let it feed first and then I’ll go in and check on Bessie.” He’d barely finished talking when the foal peeled itself away with a shake of its head and limped around to explore the small space. It barely took more than a minute of searching to find the placenta among the straw and other mess. Richard grimaced as Allen picked up the long length, which looked to be over a metre in length. Checking both ends, Allen gave a satisfied nod. “Pass me that bucket.” Richard followed the instruction and watched as Allen coiled the placenta inside, saying that the vet may want to examine it later.

“You think she’s hungry?” Richard was clearly eager to help as he hovered in the doorway, unsure what to do with himself. Bessie certainly seemed to agree as she huffed and bowed her head. Allen chuckled as he patted her damp flank, holding the bucket out of the way as the curious foal came sniffing.

“I wouldn’t be surprised. Why don’t you give her some feed while I clean up over here?” Allen wouldn’t take them out just yet, but if Bessie stood to one side, it would give him space to clean up and replace the soiled bedding. Richard did as asked, filling a nose bag and cooing at Bessie as she walked over. He was generous with his affection, lavishing her with pets and praise as she ate her breakfast. Hearing the commotion, it wouldn’t take the rest of the horses long to rouse themselves and call for their own morning feed. Allen worked fairly quickly, forking out the soiled bedding and scrubbing down the floor beneath before sweeping out the debris. Once there was a fresh layer of straw, Allen petted the foal and left the stall, leaving Richard to dote on Bessie as she nosed his chest.

“I know, I know! You did a good job, yes you did!” he praised as he scratched her neck and stroked her nose. It didn’t take long for the foal to hobble over for a second feed, so Richard backed out and left them, bolting the door and giving them some privacy. As far as he could tell, everything had gone remarkably well, and all that was left was to have Luther come and check them over.

Chapter Text

The whole of the next day was something of a blur. Richard cleared the fields and fed the horses as usual before calling the vet to see if Luther had time to stop by. Upon hearing a mare had given birth that very morning, he said he’d clear a spot to get out there that afternoon. True to his word, he arrived just as Allen and Richard finished their first test race of the day. As Richard groomed the filly he’d been riding, Allen took Luther to visit Bessie. The initial examination was very promising. They both appeared in perfect health, though they wouldn’t know for sure until he’d run some tests. While he was there, he also made future appointments for the foal’s first shots and such.

When Richard finally got to the chickens, he found Hank waiting, and he was pleased to hear everything had gone smoothly with Bessie. He was also honoured to be invited over to see the foal in person. It was an enchanting little thing as it hopped around its mother, who was patiently grazing from the hayrack. They’d be kept in for the first week, if not longer, to give them time to bond and strengthen the foal’s immune system. With the immune system in mind, Hank was content to remain outside the stall and watch from a distance. He didn’t think the mare would be too pleased with strangers in her stall, handling her foal.

Allen planned to stay on for a day or two to ensure the foal was doing well, and with that being the case, Hank invited both of them to The Nag’s Head to celebrate. It was the first foal born at the stables, and Richard’s first foal entirely. It was worth celebrating. The pub was quiet, giving Rose the chance to join them and share cooking tips with Allen, who was as impressed as Hank with her skills in the kitchen. While they swapped recipes, Richard listened to Hank talking about his new lambs and piglets. Luther was busy as ever with all the new animals being born, though it helped that the more experienced farmers like Hank largely knew what they were doing.

Upon returning to the house, Richard and Hank lingered outside to say goodnight, though Allen insisted it wouldn’t bother him if Hank stayed over. Despite that, Richard couldn’t help feeling it would be a little strange having his best friend just down the hall. Hank excused himself anyway, saying he had to get Sumo and Connor settled for the night. Accusing him of giving him that look again, Hank kissed Richard senseless and left him panting against the front door before excusing himself. It was almost cruel to leave him like that when he wasn’t staying over to take care of the little problem he’d just caused.

Everything continued for the next week as normal. Allen returned to his apartment in the city and took to visiting every day like before. They continued their test races and Richard trained the jumpers as usual while Allen picked up work around the stables and helped Hank up in the loft. Unlikely as it seemed, Allen was helping Hank figure out what some of that old equipment was for. When he’d asked about it, Hank simply said it looked like hobbyist stuff. What that meant, Richard wasn’t sure, but Hank and Allen both said they’d sort it.

The two injured hens had soon healed well enough that Hank thought it was safe for them to return to the main coop. This was a good thing for them and Nines, who now had free rein of the recovery pen and didn’t need to spend half the day in his crate. With the hens all together and no trouble in sight, Nines had a great time walking freely around the pen, picking at the earth. He seemed much happier being able to socialise with the hens all day, and his crate was left open in case he need to eat, drink, or rest. The only time Richard put the lid on was in the evening when the hens were shut in the coop. Regular visits with Gavin were also perking him up.

Though still attentive, Gavin was less wary of Nines’ injuries as time wore on. It seemed he could tell they were hurting less and Nines was regaining his usual vigour. They played a lot more, running around the pen, jumping and kicking, but not so badly that they hurt each other. Gavin regularly flapped and puffed himself up, and Nines would regularly raise his tail and submit to his advances, allowing him to carefully climb on his back and pluck his neck feathers. However, as time wore on and Nines regained strength, these submissions became less frequent, sometimes leading to a flurry of loud caws and flapping wings.

Richard asked Hank about it, and Hank put it down to frustration. Before his injury, Nines had always been the dominant party in their strange relationship. Being vulnerable had made him more willing to submit, but as he recovered, the urge to return to his former role was getting stronger. Unfortunately, his injured wing, strapped down as it was, kept him at a disadvantage. Had he wanted to, Gavin could have fought and forced him to submit, but he’d thus far settled for disgruntled squawking and flapping his wings. They still had two weeks to go before Nines’ wing would be checked and hopefully unbound. Until then, Richard thought it might be better to cut down the amount of visitations to stave off any physical confrontations.

Hank also broached the subject of bringing Sumo for another visit. Richard was less than enthused, but as Hank pointed out, he’d already petted him once. With that in mind, Richard found himself pacing by the coop as Hank walked Sumo into his yard again. Remembering his last visit, Sumo patiently sat at Hank’s side and waited for cues. They closed in to around ten feet away and then stopped. Richard watched warily as Sumo sat, happily panting as he looked to Hank for guidance.

“Last time, I brought him to you. This time, I want you to come here.” That sounded sort of reasonable, but it was a lot harder than it sounded. His legs seemed to seize up at the very thought of stepping forward. “Take your time.” It seemed Hank understood his predicament, and the underlying frustration. It shouldn’t be so hard! He’d already touched the damned thing once! Walking over there should be easy. It was only a few steps, and yet his legs trembled at the very thought. He felt jittery, the way he felt when he hadn’t eaten for half a day. “You’re alright...” The gentle gruff of Hank’s voice went straight to his cock as he tried to coax him.

“I-I know it’s just a few steps, but...” Richard couldn’t help feeling silly. Sumo was on a lead, panting happily without even a hint of a growl. He was probably more likely to lick him to death than bite him. Though I’m not sure that’s a plus...The idea of being slobbered on was equally unappealing.

“I know. Don’t worry about how long it takes.” Getting there was half the challenge. Hank knew it may take some time. Richard licked his lips, dark eyes focusing on Sumo, who was still sitting there wagging his tail. Come on, just move your foot! His foot was less than cooperative. He heaved a frustrated sigh, his hands bunched into fists, nails biting his palms. “I’ll kiss you if you come here. How’s that?” Richard scoffed at the notion. As if that would help! Despite thinking that, he did manage to take his first small step.

“Don’t.” The last thing Richard wanted to hear was some funny quip about how easy he was to persuade. Despite his objection, Hank did level him with a rather smug smirk as he waited. Richard took another breath as he looked at his feet. He’d taken a step, and the world hadn’t ended. Proof that he could do this.

“Come on...Attaboy.” Familiar prickles darted across his neck at the sound of Hank’s voice, cock twitching greedily at the crumbs of praise. “That’s it, Richie...” It was slow going, but he finally managed to reach Hank, who hadn’t forgotten about his earlier promise. The moment he was within reach, Hank had already cupped the back of his head to pull him into a smouldering kiss. Richard hummed, hands fisting in Hank’s shirt as rough whiskers grazed his lips. Pulling back, Hank kept an arm around his waist to keep him steady as they turned their attention to Sumo, who had jumped to his paws, eager to be included. “You made it.”

“Yeah...” But now what?

“Go ahead and pet him.” Richard was less than thrilled by the prospect. It wasn’t so bad last time...That was true. He was soft, at least. With that in mind, Richard held up his hand and balled his fist, worried about his fingers being bitten. Hank watched proudly as Richard lowered his hand to Sumo’s nose to let him sniff his knuckles. With a small snuffle that sounded a lot like a sneeze, Sumo nosed the curled up hand in invitation. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Richard settled his palm on top of his head and stroked a short path down his neck.

Sumo panted happily, tongue lolling out and tail wagging as he accepted the gentle strokes. They weren’t as good as Hank’s, of course, but they were acceptable. The pressure increased a little as Richard found some sense of comfort. Stroking Sumo really wasn’t so bad. He was a dopey thing, really, without even a hint of aggression. Richard wasn’t sure if he’d always been this way or if he’d mellowed since retirement. It was hard to believe he’d once guarded the sheep as that great white beast did now. He couldn’t imagine Sumo doing something so violent as tearing a fox apart. Then again, I wouldn’t have thought it of the other one, either...Looking at the fence, Connor was standing there, once again looking wounded at not being included.

“You’re doing great...How about you take the lead?”

“How about I what?” Before he could even think to object, Hank had already thrust the leather handle into his hand. Richard was now holding a dog. Not exactly holding, but he had the lead that was supposed to control the dog. His heart thudded as he looked at Sumo to see if he’d noticed. “H-hey!” Hank stepped away, leaving him holding the lead. Richard watched aghast as Hank leaned over the fence to ruffle Connor’s ears, which seemed to appease him somewhat as he hopped up for more attention.

“Go ahead and walk him around a bit. Don’t worry if he starts to pull, just tug him back, and if he’s too rough, you can drop the lead. He won’t go far.” Easy for you to say! Sumo huffed happily, apparently eager to get started. “If you manage a walk around the yard, I’ll give you a reward.” Richard frowned at that. Did he really look like he could be bribed into taking part in this madness? Wasn’t it enough that he’d walked over all by himself and put his hand on the damned thing’s head? Sumo tugged a little as he turned in a circle, tail wagging as he pulled Richard towards Hank. Hank chuckled softly, ruffling Sumo’s ears as he pawed at his boot. With little choice but to follow, Richard joined him, keeping a wary eye on Connor, who was still leaning on the fence to his right.

“What kind of reward?” Hank smirked, reaching over to pet Connor as he whined.

“Whatever you want.” Richard wasn’t sure how far that really extended, but it was appealing enough to make him sigh and grip the lead. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Hank had already said he could let go of the lead if Sumo pulled too much, and he’d been pretty well behaved so far. Grumbling under his breath, Richard gave the lead a gentle tug to get Sumo’s attention. Hank chuckled as Sumo remained where he was, unwilling to move.

“Go on, boy,” Hank urged with a nudge on his flank. Sumo did as he was told and lumbered at Richard’s side as he traced a path along the edge of the coop. On the whole, Sumo was pretty good. He insisted on stopping to sniff every few feet, and Richard was less the pleased as he peed on his plants and garage door, but he didn’t pull too much. It was actually Richard who had to do most of the pulling to make him move. Once he caught a scent, he wanted to thoroughly explore it before moving on. “You’re doing great!” Hank praised as he watched, both hands now busy doting on Connor as he huffed and panted.

“He’s not so bad...” It was a grudging admission as Richard scratched behind one of Sumo’s ears. Having completed a circuit of the yard, Richard returned the lead to Hank with a relieved sigh. That session had gone a lot better than he thought it would. He’d never dreamed he’d end up walking a dog, even if it was just a short circle around his own yard. Allen would probably have a heart attack if he saw.

“So? What do you want?” It seemed Hank hadn’t forgotten his earlier offer.

“Huh? Oh...uh...” Richard’s mind blanked at the question, suddenly unable to think of a single thing he wanted. “A-a bath?” His cheeks coloured slightly at the meek response as Sumo sat on his feet and almost knocked him over. Hank hummed thoughtfully. It was an odd request, but who was he to argue?

“I think I can manage that,” Hank teased as he pulled Sumo up. “Go on into the house and get ready. I’ll come over as soon as I’ve got these two settled.” Richard did as he was told and stumbled into the house, still unable to believe what he’d done. Had he really just walked a dog in exchange for a bath? Why a bath? He’d just panicked, and it was the first thing that came out of his mouth! Hank probably thought he was insane, or a pervert, or both! He couldn’t help feeling nervous as he entered his room and did as Hank said.

Pulling off his clothes, he huddled in his bathrobe on the edge of the bed, feeling more than a little nervous. This was weird. Hank probably thought it was weird, right? On the other hand, it was just a bath. It’s not like he’d asked for kinky sex or anything weird like that. Are we even in the right place to ask for things like that? Not that he would. It wasn’t something he had any experience in, besides what Allen had told him. His heart kicked up a notch as he heard quiet steps on the stairs and his door opened.

“Alright, your highness. You just sit there while I get the bath ready for you.” Richard’s chest fluttered at the teasing smile he got, eyes thinning as he tried to remember when he’d heard that nickname before. He barely even stammered out an agreement before Hank padded through to the bathroom to start the water. Richard couldn’t help feeling a little embarrassed as he waited. He probably could have asked for something better, or more normal. Judging by the perfumed smell that was soon drifting in from the bathroom, Hank was taking his job seriously. He’d used at least two kinds of salts and lotions to scent the water. Upon entering the bathroom, Richard found his large porcelain tub had been filled two-thirds high with water and bubbles, and the air was thick with mist, suggesting the water was good and hot.

“U-um, thanks...” Richard hesitated, hugging the robe around himself as he looked from the water to Hank. Was he supposed to just get in? Was Hank staying or did he consider his job done?

“Allow me.” Hank’s clothed body pressed up behind, fingers gripping the opening of his robe to gently pry it loose. Richard stiffened a little, feeling self-conscious as the towelling material was peeled away. Covering himself was almost instinctual, especially with the way his cock twitched. Hank stepped away to discard to robe, but returned a moment later to run his rough hands down his naked sides. “Are you ready?” Richard shivered, skin prickling as Hank’s whiskered teased his neck and shoulder. “Climb in.” An encouraging pat on his ass soon had him stumbling to the edge of the tub.

“Are you staying?” So far, Hank had made no move to remove his own clothes, but he hadn’t left either. It was sort of sweet, the way he took his arm as he lifted his leg to climb in. A strong presence to make sure he didn’t fall. Richard felt a little better once he was submerged. The bubbles gave him some modesty, and the water was exactly the right temperature to feel hot without scalding his sensitive skin. It seemed Hank remembered his preference from the times they’d showered together.

“Of course...You wanted a bath, so I have to get you clean.” Richard squirmed under the smouldering look he was receiving, imagining all the things that cleaning might entail. Hank chuckled fondly, as if he could see the cogs turning. It seemed he’d come prepared. He had a white bowl that Richard didn’t recognise, which he used to scoop up water to pour over his head. “Head back, Richie...” Richard did as he was told and looked up as the water soaked his hair. It seemed Hank intended to start at the top.

With the telltale squirt of a bottle, long fingers laced in his hair, slowly working up a foamy lather. Richard leaned into it with a low hum, closing his eyes and almost melting into the circling fingers. Hank knew it, too. He chuckled softly, deliberately shifting the pressure to make Richard tilt his head this way and that, chasing his fingers. Just when it was getting frustrating, Hank dug in his fingertips to give him a proper massage before rinsing with the bowl, reminding him to lean back and keep his eyes closed. Fuck, the massage was reward enough. He would have been happy if Hank had just stopped there. His head felt dazed and fuzzy as he opened his eyes, a lazy feeling of contentment washing over him.

“You like that?” He vaguely managed a nod as Hank smiled and lifted his arm. Richard wasn’t sure where the sponge came from, but it felt sort of nice. It was softer than the plastic scrunchies he was used to, but still rough enough to gently scrub the surface. Hank rubbed circles up and down his arm from wrist to shoulder, being sure to work the sponge underneath as well. It was nice. Richard had never been pampered like this before. “Let me get your face...Close your eyes.” Richard did as he was told, keeping his eyes shut as Hank’s fingers stroked and massaged his sensitive skin. Using the sponge, Hank squeezed water and stroked away the soap before moving on to his neck.

“Have you done this before?” Richard asked softly as Hank scrubbed circles on his back.

“Sure! Back when my wife was pregnant, I used to do it all the time, and then Cole came along and...” Hank trailed off, swallowing the memories that had brought up. It was still painful, but time had mostly dulled the ache. Sometimes he could even smile. His hand, which had also stilled, picked up again as he shrugged it off, though he noticed Richard had stiffened a little. He was hesitant to ask. Hank had been alone at the house since he’d moved in. At least, he’d never noticed anyone else. He certainly never saw a child. Hank was older though. Had he grown up and moved away?

“I-I didn’t know you were married.” Even though he’d never seen her, if he had a wife, what did that mean for whatever this was? Was he the other man in this scenario? The sponge on his back paused again as Hank thought over how to answer.

“I am...was. They died a few years ago. Had an accident on the freeway on the way back from visiting her folks...I stayed behind that day, busy with the farm.” It was something he often regretted. Maybe if he’d been driving, things would have been different. It was probably an egotistical thing to think, but he couldn’t help but wonder. Could he have swerved? Would he have taken a different route than his wife? Would they have stayed longer? She was probably only coming home so early to keep him company. Maybe they would have spent the night with her parents. It doesn’t matter now.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” Richard had been thinking about infidelity or divorce. He’d never imagined the answer would be so heartbreaking. He felt bad for asking as he looked over his shoulder with wide eyes. It wasn’t a loss he could even comprehend. Although he’d lost people in life, grandparents and such, it had never been unexpected and never so tragic as that. Whiskers tickled his temple as Hank gave him a peck and returned to soaping his back.

“It doesn’t matter...It was a long time ago.” It must have been coming up on four years. The first two had been pretty rough, but he couldn’t afford to wallow. Not with the farm depending on him. Clearing out the house had helped a lot, getting rid of those constant reminders and things he didn’t need. Richard fell silent, unsure he should speak on it further. It was Hank’s business, so it would be rude and inconsiderate to pry. He really knew all he needed to know. Hank had suffered a terrible loss. “But that’s not what we’re here for...” Richard balked as a hand slipped between his thighs to stroke his cock, a surprised moan slipping out.

“A-are you sure you want to-” Richard’s head fell back with a gasp, legs parting as the hand tightened and squeezed. It seemed somewhat surreal to go from something so sad to something so sinful. Not wanting to get Hank’s clothes wet, Richard gripped the sides of the tub as Hank leaned over to attack his lips.

“Very sure.” Drawing back, Hank added more gel to the sponge and turned his attention to Richard’s chest, leaving him panting and wanting, cock stiff beneath the water. He trembled as Hank slowly circled his pecs, easing the pressure and circling his nipples as he did so. “Lie down so I can get your feet.” Richard did as he was told, feeling somewhat coy as he let Hank lift his leg and soap his foot. He massaged with his fingers, cleaning between each toe before scrubbing to his thigh until it disappeared beneath the bubbles.

The sounds Richard made as he massaged his feet were embarrassing, though Hank wasn’t about to complain. He liked the way he twitched and trembled, dark eyes soft and lazy as he leaned back in the tub. Hank’s voice remained soft as he lowered his other leg back into the water and leaned low over the tub. Richard hummed softly as he pushed himself up to accept the proffered kiss, lips following lazily as Hank’s whiskers prickled his skin. Drawing back, Hank ran his fingers through his hair before stroking his cheek.

“Get on your knees, Richie.” Pink dusted his cheeks at the low grumble, and he didn’t disappoint as he heaved himself up and rested his hands on either side of the tub. “Good boy.” Richard balked at the praise, but Hank saw how his cock twitched. He didn’t get to that right away though. His upper thighs and lower back weren’t finished. He deliberately took his time as he rubbed the tender skin between his thighs, barely brushing his balls with each pass. Little gasps and whines stuck in Richard’s throat as he remained on his knees, dark eyes wandering the room so he didn’t have to look at Hank as he teased.

Unsatisfied with that, Hank soaped his hand and cradled Richard’s balls, gently rolling and squeezing. Richard openly moaned at that, finally looking up at Hank as he perched on the edge of the tub smirking. The hand on his balls moved to rub his perineum instead, fingers pressing and circling back and forth with a smooth glide. Richard couldn’t help rocking and squirming, much to Hank’s delight as he finally moved to fist his dripping cock.

“Look at you, making the water dirty.” He clicked his tongue as he leaned down to lick the tip, enjoying the way Richard whined and closed his eyes. Hank chuckled as he pumped, though he wasn’t about to make him finish like that. He wasn’t done cleaning yet. “Alright, Richie. Both hands here and bend over.” Richard looked over his shoulder to where Hank had patted the curved rim of the tub. His whole body felt light and hazy as he did as he was told, barely even thinking about it as he gripped the edge and lifted his ass.

“A-ah-Henry!” Hank chuckled at the scandalised whine as his gel coated fingers slipped between Richard’s cheeks to press and circle the tight ring of muscle. Despite what sounded like an objection, he was still pressing back for more as Hank rubbed and circled. Hank chuckled, cock stiff in his jeans as he took in the flushed, wanton look on Richard’s face and the headiness in his dark eyes as he looked over his shoulder.

“I have to clean everywhere, right?” Hank teased, enjoying the shuddering little breath Richard took as he finally pushed inside. Not forgetting his job, Hank circled his free hand on his ass, rubbing and soaping the rounded flesh. “Does it feel good, being nice and clean?” Richard moaned in response, which Hank took to be an agreement. He shuddered as Hank leaned low over his back to leave prickled kisses all the way down to his ass. “You want to get clean now, right? Come on, help me.” Leaning low over the tub, Richard obediently bucked his ass against Hank’s hand, whining and twitching as the finger pushed deeper. “Attaboy.”

“Henry!” Fuck, why did he have to say that? Hank chuckled, holding his fist in place and enjoying the sight of Richard fucking himself. It wasn’t long before he’d worked in another finger, pushing good and deep to make Richard cry for more. His thighs were trembling already, and he was only two fingers in so far. Since Richard was so distracted, Hank rinsed his free hand and set about undressing. He only had the one set of clothes, after all. It was a little hard to strip one handed, but Richard was suitably distracted as he buried his face in the ceramic and bounced on his fingers. He only turned to look as Hank removed his fingers and pulled his hand free of the shirt. Seeing him naked, Richard openly mewled. He knew what was coming next.

“I think you need something a little bigger for a deep clean, hm?” Hank teased as he soaped his solid cock, holding it up so Richard could fully appreciate the girth that was about to breach him. “That’s it, honey...” Far from shying away from it, Richard was being a good little bitch and shuffling his thighs further apart. Bending low over the tub, he raised his ass as high as he could to meet Hank as he settled on his knees. He whined needily as Hank’s thumb teased his hole, tugging it wide to check how stretched it was. It certainly looked ready if the twitching was anything to go by.

“F-fu-H-Henry!” The first stretch always felt too much, and this was no exception, even with the soap and water. Hank hushed him softly as he pressed in, keep a hand on his hip to hold him steady and watching for any sharp gasps or pained whimpers. Relief and anticipation swelled in his gut as he heard neither. Richard’s breaths picked up as he pushed in, hips squirming as he came to rest flush against his pelvis. His thighs twitched and trembled, knuckles white as he gripped the tub.

“Attaboy, Richie...” Cursing under his breath, Richard tentatively nudged his hips and whined at the grinding in his passage. Hank smirked, resting a hand on his lower back and stroking soapy circles. “That’s it, honey. Get yourself nice and clean.” Taking the hint, Richard braced himself and pushed back, enjoying the wet thud of Hank’s belly on his ass. His cock was hitting so deep, and the way he held himself on his knees with a hand on either side of the tub meant he was a little higher than Richard was used to. His cock was rubbing at an entirely new angle, just a little too high to hit his spots. Doing his best, Richard tried to buck a little higher with limited success. “Come here,” Hank chuckled as he noticed the struggle.

Richard moaned as powerful hands settled on his hips and all but lifted him away from the edge of the tub. He had little choice but to grab at Hank’s shoulder and the edge of the tub as his smaller body was lifted and dropped. The change was immediate, drawing a desperate moan from his lips as he threw his head back. Hank had found that magical angle that flooded his body with rolling throbs of pleasure. It bubbled and roiled in his pelvis, working all the way up to his chest as he bounced and squirmed. The ball of pleasure was so tight, he could feel it coming to a head without his cock even being touched.

“H-Henry, I-I-” He couldn’t even finish the sentence without breaking off into a broken moan, hearing Hank curse in his ear as he kissed his shoulder and upped the pace. His sodden cock bounced with each hard thrust, slapping the water and sloshing the tub each time. Richard moaned louder, his whole body going limp in Hank’s arms as he held on and allowed himself to be fucked. He couldn’t stop it as he finally spilled, springing a coil so tight he didn’t think the tide of pleasure would ever end. Hank upped the pace, having never heard such sounds fall from Richard’s lips before.

“Fuck, you’re so good! Fuck, Richie!” Richard gasped and moaned, eyes wide as specks of white filled his vision. Half the bathroom disappeared before he crashed, almost crying as Hank held him down and spilled. “Hold on for the rinse, honey,” he growled in his ear, gasping and pulling him closer. Richard’s whole body felt weak and shaky afterwards, unable to hold his own weight. Luckily, Hank was content to stay on his knees as he came down, letting his cock soften in his passage. “Hold still now, Richie...” Richard whined softly as Hank pulled out and held him open, letting his seed spill out and fingering out even more.

Richard still couldn’t hold his own weight, resting limp against Hank’s chest like a rag doll as he caught his breath. The only reason Hank knew he hadn’t passed out was the fact his hazy eyes were open. He chuckled softly, pressing little kisses up and down his shoulder and massaging his thighs. Richard was thoroughly fucked out and damned if it didn’t look good on him. The fact he almost passed out could have been put down to his smaller size or the sheer intensity, but Hank was getting used to it by now. It was really quite flattering, the way he could leave him utterly senseless.

“Looks like you’re dirty again.” Richard vaguely managed a huff of appreciation at the light jibe, turning his head to accept the lips he knew would be there.

Chapter Text

A week later, things were looking up. The foal, which they’d called Bramble on the paperwork, and Bessie were out in their own paddock now. They’d usually be kept with other nursing mares, but Bessie was the only one who’d given birth so far. The others wouldn’t be ready until next year. They both had a clean bill of health, and Bramble was flourishing. He was putting on weight every day, his fur was glossy, and his legs were steady. Allen had quickly become his favourite human, possibly due to him being the first thing he saw as he cleaned his nose, and he followed him whenever he could.

Even though Bramble wouldn’t be ready for sale for another two years, they’d already had multiple offers in the hundred thousand range. With his lineage, it was almost a certainty he’d be an excellent runner and, as a male, he’d be ripe for breeding. Richard was quietly tempted to keep him for himself. He’d be a valuable stallion, and he was the first foal born in the stable, but that wouldn’t be a good business decision. They’d have to buy in more mares if they kept Bramble so they didn’t cross family lines, since the other foals would be from the same stallion. But if most of the other foals are also male...

They were also ready to sell May-Bell, a mare who was hitting her second year that season. She could run the track in just over three minutes, which was an excellent time for any potential buyer to build on. They’d had offers as high as ninety-five thousand, which was pretty good, but Richard would let Allen handle that side of things. He always swung a better deal. Richard’s primary focus was training, and that’s where he was happiest. With that in mind, they were making the most of the end of the summer. They trained the entire year, of course, but it was always nicer when the weather was fine and the days were long.

With that in mind, Richard was out on the track again. The wind in his hair, the reins tight across his fingers, his ass barely bouncing in the saddle as he rested his knees on the leather. He was riding Mellow Yellow, a boisterous thoroughbred that had been gifted a rich cream coat with a glossy black mane and tail. She’d be a great runner one day, but she needed a lot of training. It wasn’t so much the speed that was the issue, but the control. She needed to learn to listen, to follow the guiding pull of the reins, and she just wasn’t there yet. Still, it was exhilarating. Never knowing what she’d do or how she’d act brought with it a certain level of excitement.

“That’s it! Come on!” Richard spurred her on down the main strip, grinning and leaning low as the wind whipped his face. Each pounding step made his body bounce, hips rocking to keep balance. “Go Melly! Go!” He whooped as they sped down the strip, laughing as they came up to the second turning. He pulled the reins. Mellow snorted and leaned into it, hooves pounding the earth as they took the turn and got back onto the straight. She’d slowed a little, as she should, but they were soon picking up speed again.

“Too fast! Watch the turning!” Allen bellowed as they came up to the starting line. Much as he hated to admit it, Allen was right. Mellow didn’t take the hint soon enough. She wasn’t slowing down the moment he pulled. Still, things were looking pretty promising. Her fur was glossy, working up a sweat from the workout. They were going for their second lap now, a chance to perfect the turning. Richard panted and rocked in the saddle, holding tight as they pounded their way down the track.

“Alright, come on girl...Now!” Pulling the reins, Richard urged Mellow to slow and turn. His eyes widened. Her outer hoof slipped, throwing her off balance. Richard let go and released the stirrups as she fell, leaping off backwards. They both hit the ground hard. Richard grunted, taking the brunt of the fall on his forearm and feeling a searing pain shoot up through his shoulder as he rolled. His head hit the ground, helmet bouncing and scraping on the firm earth. Shit! Gritting his teeth, he grabbed his arm and rolled onto his back, breathing through the pain and turning his head to see how Mellow was doing. He huffed fondly as he noticed she was already up. She was rattled, shaking her head and rearing, but she was on her feet.

“Richard!” Allen’s feet pounded the earth, spooking Mellow and sending her off down the track without a rider. That was probably the best place for her. There was a fence around the edge and no one else was down there, so she’d calm herself eventually. Richard was Allen’s primary concern as he threw himself down and put a hand on his chest, wary of moving him in case he’d broken something. “Richie, hey! Are you alright? How bad is it?” That was a pretty hard question right now. He was pretty shaken up and tender from the fall.

“Sh-shoulder.” That was the one thing he knew didn’t feel right. He hadn’t heard or felt any crunching, so it probably wasn’t broken, but it fucking hurt. His forearm was pretty scraped, and his elbow hurt. His hip had also taken a hit, and his legs were probably battered from rolling across the ground. Although his head hurt, he knew the helmet had done its job and saved him for the most part. “I-I think that’s the worst of it.” Though he wasn’t a medical professional, so he wouldn’t know for sure until he got checked out.

“Alright, I’ll call an ambulance.”

“Are you crazy? It’s not that bad!” This wasn’t his first time falling from a horse, though it was his first time for a while. It was also rare for him to fall off on the racetrack. His falls were usually on the softer ground of the jumping range. Allen looked down at him doubtfully, unsure he really believed him. “I mean it! I just took a fall!” Granted, that fall was from a five foot, thousand pound horse, but he could still move his fingers and toes, so there was no serious spinal damage. Allen seemed a little more relaxed as he lifted his head, suggesting his neck was also still in one piece.

“Alright, but I’m still taking you to get checked out.” Richard wouldn’t expect anything less, and honestly, he was pretty sure he needed it for whatever had happened to his shoulder and elbow. He hissed as he straightened his arm and rolled his shoulder. He could still move them, so it probably wasn’t that bad. Maybe a few torn ligaments or a fracture. Breathing was a little painful, so he’d probably done something to his ribs, too. The whole of his left side had taken a hit. At least my right arm is alright. That was the hand he used for writing. “Why don’t you stay here while I get Mellow put away?” They couldn’t just leave her out by herself.

“Sure, I’ll just...wait here.” He wasn’t ready to move yet anyway. It was always pretty scary, taking a fall, and that was the worst he’d had in a while. His legs were still shaking as he scooted over to the white railings surrounding the track and leaned against a post. He wouldn’t say he’d seen his life flash before his eyes, but he’d certainly thought the worst when he hit the ground. His heart was still racing as he watched Allen jog down the other end of the track, where Mellow was still trotting in circles. Shit. There was something off in her gait. He could see it from where he was sitting. She was limping a little.

She reared and whinnied as Allen rounded the corner, clearly agitated. Richard watched as Allen backed off and spoke in his usual gentle tones. It took a few minutes, but the sound of Allen’s voice and the offer of a sugar cube soon had her settled enough to let him grab the reins. He patted her flank as they walked, and he gently coaxed her all the way back to her stall, where he stripped off the saddle and bridle before putting her inside. By the time he returned to Richard, the trembling in his legs had stopped and he was feeling much better, though still very sore.

“Ready?” Allen asked as he gripped his good arm. Richard nodded and pushed as Allen helped him up, groaning and limping on his right leg. The pain in his left hip was a little worse than expected. He hissed in pain as he found his footing, trying to shake off the dull pain. Allen squinted at him distrustfully, quietly convinced he was covering his injury.

“I’m fine! It just hurts like a bitch.” Which was true. Allen clicked his tongue as he helped him limp his way across the track and along the path to the yard. They took Allen’s car, since he’d be the one driving.

“I told you Mellow was taking the corners too fast,” Allen grumbled as Richard climbed into the passenger seat with a wince. He didn’t even bother arguing. Allen had warned him, and he’d taken it seriously. He’d pulled the reins sooner than before, hoping to pull her into a sharper turn. Maybe that’s it. I might have pulled a little too hard. Mellow wasn’t as seasoned as the others. She didn’t know how to read him yet.

“It was probably my fault.” Allen couldn’t say that definitively. Mellow was in training. Accidents happened when working with horses, and this was one of the risks. Richard got off easy by the looks of it. A fall like that could have been a lot worse if he hadn’t dismounted in time. His leg could have been crushed, his hip or back broken, or his neck might even have snapped. “Did you check Mellow? How is she?” Allen huffed. How like Richard to worry about the horse first.

“She’s settled, but I’ll have to call the farrier in. She threw a shoe in the fall.” Richard winced at the news. That explained the limping. With one hoof shorter than the others, the poor girl was walking off balance. They’d have to wait for the farrier to find out how bad it was. She might have ripped part of her hoof off with the shoe or bruised her fetlock. Hopefully nothing worse than that. “I’ll keep her in for a few days and have Luther check her over.” That was probably for the best.

Since he was now sitting, Richard unclipped his helmet and tossed it on the backseat, wincing as he did so. The helmet had saved him from any serious injuries, but he was still pretty tender where he’d hit the ground. The longer they drove, the more sore his battered limbs were becoming, too. He was probably black and blue under his tight slacks. He sat back with a sigh. Great. He probably wouldn’t be back in the saddle for a few weeks. It might even be months, but he didn’t want to contemplate that. Once they got to the hospital, Allen told him to wait in the car. Assuming he was going to pay for parking, Richard waited, but he was mortified when he returned with a wheelchair. Are you fucking kidding me?

“I’m not a fucking invalid!” he groused as Allen opened the door, pausing with a firm frown. They glared at  each other. There was no way he was voluntarily sitting in that thing! He’d have to drag him. Kicking and screaming. He balked as Allen leaned in and unfastened his seatbelt.

“If you don’t put yourself in the chair, I’ll pick you up and do it myself.” Richard flushed with indignation. He knew better than to think Allen was exaggerating. They’d been here before. Scooting the chair closer, Allen put on the brakes and waited with folded arms. Grumbling under his breath, Richard shuffled his legs out with a pained grunt. He felt stiff already. His elbow and shoulder felt like they were swelling, which they may well have been. He grudgingly accepted Allen’s hand as he heaved himself to his feet and shuffled into the chair like an old man. This is the worst...“Thank you,” Allen murmured as he settled his feet on the plates and wheeled him towards the emergency room.

Allen handled everything once they were inside. Being retired, and not overly famous anyway, Richard wouldn’t have complained about waiting in the ER, however, Allen was quick to bring up his status and insurance. With such a dangerous job, it only made sense to go private in case something big happened. Within a few minutes, Allen had wheeled him through to a smaller, private waiting area, and within thirty minutes, they were led into an examination room. Although sessions really should be private, Allen made no move to leave, and Richard didn’t tell him to. As a result, Allen was the one who leapt into an explanation of what had happened.

“He landed on his left side and rolled, but his arm took the brunt of it, and his head bounced off the track.” Richard glared at that. Great...Did he really have to say that? Hearing about the head injury, the doctor, a young woman who looked to be in her thirties, sat up a little straighter. Head injuries could be dangerous. Richard understood that, but he was really fine!

“Did your head hit the ground?”

“I was wearing a helmet!” This was getting ridiculous. The helmet had taken the brunt of the impact. Yes, it hurt. Yes, he could feel some sore spots, but it really wasn’t that bad! The doctor’s lips softened into something of a smirk at his response as she looked over her glasses with amused eyes.

“That’s not what I asked.” Richard’s pout was enough of an answer.

“Alright, yes. My head hit the ground a couple of times, but I was wearing a helmet!” The doctor was glad to hear it. Without a helmet, they’d likely be in a very different position. Richard sat patiently, trying not to huff too much as the doctor reached out and ran her fingers over his skull. She hummed softly, watching as Richard winced under her touch and lingering over the sore spots for a more thorough check. Next, she got her penlight and had him look this way and that as she checked his vision.

“Well...your eyes seem fine. Dilation is as it should be, and your movement seems unaffected. I’ll order a scan just in case, and we’ll keep you in overnight to be sure.” Richard balked at the suggestion. Overnight? Was that really necessary? The fall wasn’t even that bad! He was just feeling a little stiff and achy. Allen was much happier, clearly relieved Richard would be in good hands. Seeing Richard’s face, the doctor put on her most appeasing smile. “It’s precautionary, and we’ll have x-rays to run on your arm and hip anyway, so staying here is much more convenient.” There probably wasn’t even a reason to x-ray!

“Are you sure that’s necessary?” Richard couldn’t help feeling like he was being a bother. Sure, the more treatment he got, the more money the private ward would make, but all this fuss was really too much.

“Absolutely. You should never take chances with head injuries, and if you have any broken bones, they’ll need to be properly set.” She wisely chose not to mention that with him being older now, those breaks could take longer to heal and cause more problems. Richard knew she was right, but he really felt fine! The doctor had him strip and put on a gown so she could examine his limbs properly. There was a little swelling around the shoulder and elbow, either from fractures or strains. His hip was badly bruised, though she couldn’t feel any cracks. She predicted that two of his ribs were fractured from how tender they felt, and his legs were predictably covered in bruises. “We’ll get you a bed and some anti-inflammatory medication for the swelling. Do you think you need anything for the pain?” Richard shook his head. It was painful, but not so bad that he wanted to be put on anything stronger than Paracetamol.

The rest of the afternoon was mostly spent waiting. He was shown to a room, where he had to stay in the open-backed examination robe, and put into bed. Allen stayed to keep him company, mostly insisting that this was for the best and he should listen to the doctors and stay overnight, like they said. He could, of course, discharge himself, but Allen knew that with a little convincing, he’d do as he was told. He always did. They paid for TV, and Allen bought him a newspaper so he’d have something to do later when he was eventually shooed away for the night.

After multiple x-rays and scans, it was confirmed that the helmet had done its job. No severe signs of concussion or fractures in the skull. His elbow had a minor fracture, but he wouldn’t need surgery or a cast. His shoulder was similarly damaged, so the joint was bandaged and his arm placed in a blue sling. He was to keep it there for six weeks without moving it, except for when he was doing elbow exercises. That would be quite a challenge, using his elbow without moving his shoulder. His ribs were also slightly fractured, so he was told to rest as much as possible. His hip, surprisingly, was fine. It was battered and bruised, like his legs, but there were no cracks or breaks. Small mercies...

“We’ll check everything again in six weeks to see how you’re doing, so until then, no strenuous activity, and you need to rest as much as possible.” Richard almost pouted. That meant no riding. Allen gave him a knowing look, almost smirking. Richard was always the same when he was injured. He sulked and pushed boundaries as much as possible. The next six weeks would be a living nightmare, and Allen would be working overtime trying to keep him in check. Unless...Richard had a thing with Hank going, so maybe he could wrangle Hank into keeping Richard’s mind off work.

Despite the scans, they still wanted to monitor his condition overnight to make sure nothing changed, so Allen was soon shooed away for the evening to allow Richard to rest. It was only then, as Allen pottered about making sure he had everything he needed within reach, that Richard thought of Hank and the chickens. He was probably wondering what happened after he didn’t turn up that morning.

“Al! Would you see to the chickens for me? And...could you let Hank know?” His insides squirmed at that second part. It felt weird, having someone who’d notice he was missing besides Allen. It sort of warmed him to think there was someone out there waiting for him who might miss him when he was gone. He sort of felt bad for not thinking about it sooner. Then again, I did spend the day getting poked and prodded. He was still irritated by the experience.

“Why don’t you call him?” Allen asked curiously, though it occurred to him that Richard didn’t have his phone. The look on Richard’s face informed him there was another problem though. “You don’t have his number?” Richard balked at the exclamation. He was acting like it was the most outrageous thing in the world!

“We live right next door to each other!” If he wanted him, he could just walk outside and yell. Allen sighed. The things Richard was missing out on! Perhaps it was a good thing that he’d have six weeks to learn. Allen almost smirked at the thought. He’d certainly be willing to give Hank some pointers on how he could keep him occupied.

“Alright, I’ll need to get the horses in anyway.” They’d already been out in the fields longer than they should. It was getting on for dinnertime. Richard waved with his good arm and sat back with a sigh, boredly looking up at the ceiling. At least he still had the crossword.

Chapter Text

Richard barely slept. A combination of the pain down his left side and the discomfort of being away from his own bed. He sat there, propped up on a pile of pillows, going between closing his eyes, playing with the television, and reading through the paper for the second or third time. Nurses came and checked in around every hour, just opening the door and giving him a sympathetic look as they noticed he was still awake. He was offered painkillers on multiple occasions, but as long as he stayed still, the pain wasn’t really a problem. The most inconvenient thing by far was going to the bathroom. His hip hurt so much he had to really work himself up to leaving the bed. Each time he moved his back, his ribs throbbed, adding to the pain as he hobbled into the small ensuite. The only silver-lining was that he still had his dominant hand.

At least the anti-inflammatory pills were working, which was mostly fine until he was hit by a dizzy spell. A nurse checked him over when she noticed how he was lying there holding a hand over his eyes, but rather than being from the head injury, they found it was down to his lack of appetite. He hadn’t eaten since before the accident. At dinner, he’d barely picked at the food on his tray. With that in mind, the nurse had gone to fetch him a banana from somewhere and insisted that when breakfast came around, he had to eat the lot. The high dose of Ibuprofen would burn through the lining of his stomach otherwise.

It was while he was half-heartedly nibbling on his breakfast, soggy scrambled eggs with limp bacon and a sorry-looking sausage with a pudding for dessert, that Hank arrived. It wasn’t exactly visiting time, but things were a little more lax in the private ward and Richard was hoping to be discharged anyway. They certainly didn’t mention keeping him longer than one night. Hank seemed a little breathless as he entered, blue eyes softening in relief as he found him looking relatively unharmed. Flutters filled Richard’s stomach as Hank hurried over to the bed and wasted no time in sealing his lips. Much as he wanted to grab his shirt, his left arm throbbed at the mere thought of moving, making Hank draw back with an apology.

“Shit, are you alright? Allen said you were pretty beat up in the fall.” It wasn’t that bad! His open-mouthed look must have said as much. Hank carefully settled on the edge of his bed, staying on the right so he didn’t jostle his injuries.

“I’m alright...Just a few minor fractures.” Hank was less than reassured by the news, which prompted Richard to point out it could have been far worse. That seemed to have the opposite effect. I’m really not good at this...That’s what he had Allen for! Where was Allen in all this? He’d expected it to be Allen who came to get him. We are sort of...dating though. Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised that it was Hank who’d come for him. “Hopefully, I’ll be discharged soon.” Despite promising to eat his breakfast, it wasn’t going well.

“You’re supposed to eat it, not play with it,” Hank teased, though he could understand his reluctance. It was hospital food, and it looked sloppy and unappealing, but he still needed to eat. “Come here...” Richard balked as Hank took the fork and lifted the knife to cut up his food. It was sort of mortifying to think he couldn’t cut his own food. He could have, though it would have taken a lot longer. What was worse was that once Hank had finished cutting, he scooped up some egg and raised it to his lips. “Open.” Richard’s cheeks heated as he obeyed, accepting the tasteless gloop in his mouth. His face must have said it all as he chewed and swallowed.

“I can manage...” Hank held the fork out of reach as Richard reached for it.

“Yeah, you probably can.” After engaging in a silent battle of wills, which Richard lost with a sigh, Hank scooped a second mouthful, along with a bit of bacon. The bacon, poor as it was, made the egg a little more palatable. “Attaboy.” Richard balked again at the praise, half-glaring as Hank fed him a piece of sausage. It was unfair of him to say that word when he knew what it did to him. At least, he was pretty sure he knew.

“It’s good to see you finally eating!” Richard vaguely wished the bed would open up and swallow him as that bright voice rang in the doorway. It was the same nurse who’d made him promise to eat the night before, and who had been back three times since breakfast to see if he’d fulfilled that promise. Hank greeted her kindly as she crossed to the bed and looked over the charts, listening intently as she told him about his dizzy spell the night before and how he hadn’t touched a bite all evening. That was a rotten lie! He’d taken a few bites!

“Don’t you worry. I’ll make sure he’s well fed when he gets home.” What am I? An animal? Richard clicked his tongue in reproach, grudgingly accepting the next fork of eggs as Hank smirked. The nurse, who was really far too cheerful after such a long shift, beamed at the news.

“I can take care of myself!” The nurse and Hank shared a look at that. Clearly, neither of them believed him. Richard glared, only remembering not to fold his arms because of the throb in his shoulder. The nurse seemed to pick up on his annoyance, likely thinking they’d hurt his feelings as she returned the chart to the end of the bed and straightened his pillows.

“Of course you can, but it’ll be a lot harder with that arm. You should accept all the help you can get. It’s not every day you have people fawning over you.” True as that was, Richard really wasn’t the fawning type. The smirk Hank sent him suggested otherwise. He knew he liked the attention. He just wasn’t the type to go hunting for it, which was why he was the one holding the fork. Richard clicked his tongue at the smug look, still grudgingly opening his mouth to accept the next fork of egg. “You really will need it. Things like getting changed, cooking, and cleaning will be a lot more challenging for the next few weeks.” This wasn’t his first injury, so he knew that already. It had been a long time since he’d had a fall this bad though, and he was a little younger the last time.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him.” Something in the gruffness of Hank’s voice sent prickles across the back of Richard’s neck, and the twitch of his lips as he looked across at him didn’t help either. He could almost feel his cheeks darkening as the nurse left, assuring him the doctor would be along to start the discharge process soon. Eating seemed a lot easier after that. The faster he ate, the faster he could get the hell out of there. Hank insisted on feeding him everything, especially the pudding. “How are you planning to hold the pot while you’re scooping, hm?” Richard was pretty sure he could bend his fingers and hold the pot in his left hand, but it seemed such logic was lost on Hank as he peeled the lid off and scooped a spoonful of white looking jelly.

Of the whole sorry breakfast, the pudding was the best part. After the tasteless, rubbery gloop and stringy bacon, almost anything would be an improvement. The pudding was at least sweet, though it didn’t really taste of much. There wasn’t much more to it. He’d survived the night with nothing worse than a slight dizzy spell, so the doctor had no problem with him being discharged. After a thorough nagging about not moving his shoulder unless he had to and doing the regular elbow exercises, as well as a reminder about not doing any strenuous activity, he was allowed to leave. All he needed was a prescription of anti-inflammatory pills and optional painkillers, and he was good to go.

He was allowed to walk out of his own volition this time, for which he was grateful. He didn’t think he could stomach it if Hank pushed him out in a wheelchair. Walking was a little uncomfortable, and much as he tried to hide it, Hank could tell he was in a certain amount of pain. His steps were a little uneven as he tried not to limp, lips thinning in discomfort as they crossed the parking lot. Once they were at the truck, Hank opened the door and helped him up with a hand on his bruised hip. It hurt, but better his hip than his arm. Once he was sitting, he didn’t even have a chance to reach for his seatbelt before Hank had climbed up and grabbed it for him.

“Thanks, but I-”

“Could have managed, sure.” Hank smirked as he drew back, leaving a placating kiss on Richard’s temple as he hopped down and shut the door. Richard shrank in his seat somewhat, doing his best to seem unaffected as Hank reappeared in the driver's seat. “You’d better get used to me helping out. You’re not lifting a finger for the next few weeks.” That sounded like hell on Earth to Richard. He hated being idle. He knew he couldn’t ride, but surely there was something else he could do! The horror must have shown on his face as Hank chuckled and pulled out of the parking lot. “Don’t worry, Allen said he’d bring a few things to help me keep you entertained.” Great, now he had two mother hens. God help me...

At first, he thought it was his imagination, but as the streets rolled by, Richard was pretty sure Hank was deliberately driving a lot slower than usual. He could have sped up. The roads were pretty smooth this close to the city, but it seemed he was being especially careful not to jostle him too much. He also made an unexpected stop at a drive through to get a proper meal, grumbling about the slop they’d fed him at the hospital. Richard would have pointed out that there was probably more nutrition in the hospital food than the burger and fries Hank ordered, but the smell of fast food through the window Hank rolled down actually smelled pretty good.

They didn’t wait to get home to eat. The food would be cold by the time they got there, and it was better eaten fresh. Stopping in the car park, Hank unwrapped Richard’s burger and passed it over before finding his own. The fries were placed on the dash, along with their drinks. Richard hummed as he ate. It had been a while since he’d had fast food like this. They lived pretty far outside the city, and he rarely visited since Allen brought him anything he wanted or needed. Hank had similar thoughts, not being a fan of the city. Obviously, it was nowhere near as good as Rose’s food, but it certainly hit the spot.

With that done, and the trash thrown out, he drove the rest of the way home. It was a little rough along the dirt road leading to their houses, but he did his best to make it smooth. Richard knew he did too, so he thinned his lips and gritted his teeth, accepting the painful jolts and rocks in silence. He wasn’t one for complaining, especially not when it couldn’t be helped. Once he pulled up at Richard’s house, Hank hopped down and hurried around to open the door and lift him down with as much care as possible. It was a little painful, especially when his arm touched his chest, but it went mostly without incident.

“Come on, I’ll get you settled for a while.” Richard could hardly turn down an offer like that, especially when Hank was giving him that soft eyed look. As they walked up to the house, Hank’s hand settled in the small of his back, gently guiding him and making sure he didn’t trip. Richard sighed in relief as they stepped inside. It was good to be home. What he really wanted was a cup of tea, but he was steered right past the kitchen and through to the staircase. “Come on, time to get you into some proper clothes.” He was in proper clothes! Allen had ensured he had some normal clothes to change into the night before, having returned to check in and take his riding clothes home.

It seemed what Hank meant by proper clothes was pyjamas. There was a set laid out for him on the bed, complete with fresh boxers. Mortifying though it was, Hank wouldn’t accept no for an answer as he helped him change. Large hands stroked and teased his waist as he unfastened his jeans and pushed them down, along with his old boxers. Blue eyes winced as he took in the dark patches up and down legs, especially on the left. It was especially bad over his hip and upper thigh. Though he insisted it wasn’t as bad as it looked, Hank had seen his constant wincing and knew that was a lie. He was as gentle as possible as he pulled up the new pants and loose bottoms before moving on to the shirt.

That was the most difficult item. He had to undress Richard while making sure he didn’t move his shoulder. Luckily, it was a shirt, so it could slide over his arm despite him having to keep his shoulder still. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like a bitch. Hank suggested they use that time to do his elbow exercises, which Richard grudgingly agreed to. He winced and whimpered periodically, mostly relying on Hank to move the joint for him. It really hurt. There were tears in his eyes by the time he slid the shirt on and tugged it over his shoulder. Taking a few breaths, Richard pushed down the lingering pain and followed Hank’s guiding hands to the bed.

Having not slept well the night before, he wasn’t about to pass up a good nap. Hank huffed fondly at the relieved sigh that fled his lips as he settled against the pillows and closed his eyes. He was home, in his own bed. No nurses coming to bother him, no machinery humming by his bed, and no echoing halls. His home. Peace and quiet, unbroken by anything except the clucking of chickens and the neighing of horses. He opened his eyes as the bed dipped and Hank ran a hand through his hair.

“I’ll leave your medicine here...Do you want a cup of tea?” Maybe Hank had noticed the direction of his gaze on the way in, or maybe he wanted one himself. Either way, Richard nodded and settled the sling across his chest. Closing his eyes, he focused on the sound of clucking chickens, wondering if they’d noticed him missing the day before. How was Nines doing? Were the two recently healed hens doing well with the rest of the flock? His eyes snapped open at the sound of excited barking. He could only guess Hank had stepped out to check on Sumo and Connor in the yard. He’d been at the hospital all morning, so they were probably worried.

Hearing his garage door creak open, Richard shuffled his way out of bed with a series of winces and grunts. As he hobbled to the open window and looked down, he could see Hank walking across with a bucket of feed. He stopped at the large pen first, swinging the door open to a flurry of flapping feathers and excited clucks. It was like they hadn’t been fed for a week as they hopped and skittered around Hank’s feet. Shooing them off, he tipped the feed in their trough and scattered a few handfuls across the dry earth for them to peck at. In the next pen, he opened the crate and lifted Nines to check him over. Richard smiled as he watched, leaning his good arm on the windowsill to prop himself up.

It was a fine day. A little cloudy, but warm. The breeze caressed his pale cheeks and ruffled his hair as he leaned on the sill. Looking to the left, he could see Hank’s sheep in the distance, and a few horses in his own paddock at the end of his yard. He missed being out there already, but Hank was right in saying he needed some rest. Maybe in a day or two, when his hip wasn’t so tender, he could head out there and check on everything. The silence was suddenly broken by more excited barking, and when Richard looked down, he could see Connor looking up at him, hopping on his hind legs and turning circles. His mouth was open, tongue lolling happily as he wagged his fluffy tail. You know, he’s really not that scary from this distance.

“Hey! I thought I told you to lie down!” Hank called as he put Nines down and refilled his bowl. Richard balked at the reminder, but pushed it aside as he straightened up.

“How’s Nines doing?” Hank’s eyes thinned as he ignored his former complaint, but he relented with a sigh.

“Getting better every day. The puncture wounds have closed, and the scratch on his leg is pretty much healed...It’s just a case of waiting for the sling to be removed now.” That sounded good, and Nines seemed happy enough as he pecked the earth along the mesh that separated him from his flock. It was nice to know he wasn’t lonely anymore. Shutting him up in that crate for hours on end had seemed cruel, but with the other two hens back with the flock, he had the whole place to himself. “Now get back to bed!” Richard relented with a huff, hobbling his way across the room and climbing into bed once more. It wasn’t much longer until Hank arrived with his tea set and a small plate of biscuits.

“You weren’t joking when you said you’d keep me well fed,” Richard huffed as he lifted the cup and saucer. Hank chortled his agreement as he made sure the pot and plate were within arm’s reach on the bedside table. He was thoughtful in a way that made Richard’s stomach flutter as he fluffed his pillows, put two biscuits on the saucer resting on his stomach, and cleaned up the discarded clothes from earlier. He still had the rounds on his own farm to complete, but he didn’t want to leave without making sure Richard had everything he needed.

“Do you want anything? I could bring the TV up for you if you want to watch something?” Richard shook his head. He wasn’t really the television type, and rarely watched for anything besides the news or weather. Being trapped in bed with nothing to do would probably grind his gears after a while though. There was only so long one could appreciate the silence and the same four walls.

“Maybe my book; the one on the small table by my chair, or today’s paper if you have it. I like to do the crosswords.” That was easy enough. As if anticipating Richard’s needs, Allen had already dropped off the paper that morning when he arrived early to clear the fields. Hank fetched both the paper and the book and left them on the bed so Richard could grab them. Before getting into reading of any sort, it seemed he was set to take a nap as he settled into the pillows. Murmuring a quiet thank you, Richard closed his eyes. The teapot would keep his tea warm for a short while, so he might have another cup in a few minutes. With a brush of whiskers on his temple, Hank left, clicking the door shut behind him.

Chapter Text

Hank was hesitant to move forward with Allen’s plan. Richard really didn’t seem the type to agree to something like this. As a result, he’d been holding off on it for five days. The first two had gone relatively smoothly. Understanding that his hip needed time to recover from the sore bruising, Richard had grudgingly remained in bed. Unfortunately, by day three, he’d decided it was time to get back to work. Hank had caught him on the third morning, bright and early at four-o-fucking-clock, trying to sneak his way out of bed and into some jeans. His excuse when Hank woke up and stopped him? The fields needed seeing to.

“Not by you they don’t!” The sternness of Hank’s voice had made Richard’s dark eyes sharpen, an argument mere seconds from his lips. “How are you expecting to wheel the barrow and scoop shit with one hand?” It seemed he hadn’t thought that far ahead, and Hank had managed to drag him back to bed with an arm around his waist. Despite that, he’d been a fucking menace for three days. Whether it was going out to feed the chickens, struggling with the bucket in one hand, or tacking the horses to walk them to the fields, an almost impossible feat with one hand, Richard had tried. He was limping around the yard, pointlessly putting his hip through the ringer and getting under Allen’s feet.

Allen had chased him back to bed. Hank had carried him back to bed. Richard just didn’t seem set on staying there. They’d no sooner got him back in the house and returned to what they were doing than he’d popped up somewhere else. It was at the end of day five, after tracking him down all day and finding him in the field with the horses, that Hank finally agreed to give Allen’s distractions a try. It would take some doing though. He wasn’t sure how willing Richard would be to go along with it, not that he’d be given a choice about the first part. Richard was still asleep when he set the first part of the plan in motion.

Being as quiet as he could, Hank slipped out of bed and fetched the chain he’d tucked away in one of the spare rooms the night before. He’d already measured to make sure it was long enough, so he didn’t hesitate as he padlocked it around the leg of the bed. Allen had already fitted a leather ankle cuff to the other end, which Hank carefully buckled around Richard’s ankle and padlocked in place, soothing and stroking his calf as he squirmed in his sleep. That wasn’t the part that was making Hank nervous though. He was nervous about the second part of Allen’s plan, which wasn’t something he had much experience with either.

The box containing the item had been set on the bedside to be forgotten until later, when Richard woke up. Unfortunately, his internal clock still insisted he was getting up at cursed-o’clock, but he no longer tried to get out of bed. Instead, he usually sat up like he wanted something or went to the bathroom. That morning was no exception. Unfortunately, getting up to go to the bathroom meant he was given no warning about the chain on his ankle. Surprised by the sound and feel of something cold brushing his leg, he almost fell over.

“Jesus fucking Christ! What the fuck is this?” He was, perhaps quite rightly, pissed as hell. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was once he got his hand on it, or to figure out what it was for. Hank winced as the bedside light flicked on and Richard glared down at him, hair and pyjamas ruffled from sleep. It was hard to be intimidated when he looked so cute, but Richard was doing his best as he held up the chain. He definitely wasn’t finding it funny.

“A little something to keep you where you’re supposed to be.” Richard’s eyes thinned at that, hot with fury as he pulled. It was a thin chain, but not so thin that he could snap it, and the links were hardy, unlikely to bend just from human strength. Injured as he was, there was also no way he could lift the bed to pull the chain off, and the cuff was snug around his ankle. “Will you calm down?” It seemed he most certainly would not as his neck coloured.

“Calm down? Calm the fuck down? I’m not a fucking animal!” Hank winced at that. He’d never said or implied that he was, though being chained up did sort of limit him the same way as a dog on a leash or a horse on a leading rein. “Unlock this fucking thing!”

“Not a chance! It’s for your own good! There’s only so much Allen and I can do to keep up with you! Every time our backs are turned, you’re out there getting yourself in trouble!” Trouble? He didn’t even do anything! “You shouldn’t be hobbling around the fields with the horses. What if one of them rears or you fall over and get trampled?” That was a risk even when he was at full health, and it was hardly an increased risk now. He still had both of his legs. It was just his arm that was out of action. Hank sighed at the look on his face and softened his approach, patting the bed beside him. “Look, if you’re good for a few days, maybe we can think about taking it off.” Think about taking it off?

“This is false imprisonment!”

“It’s temporary! Just until you heal up a little more and stop getting into everything!” He’d expected him to take it badly, but perhaps not so badly as this. Hank got up as Richard looped the chain around his good shoulder and pulled, worried he was going to strain something. “Will you stop?” Richard stiffened as Hank wrapped his arms around him, glaring up as the chain was removed from his shoulder, and fell to the floor with a ringing clatter. “You know Allen would never come up with an idea like this to hurt you.” That was true enough, but he still didn’t care to be trussed up like an animal! “Do you need the bathroom? I made sure the chain would reach.” How considerate of you...Richard gave a stiff nod and crossed to the ensuite, chain dragging and scraping the whole way.

Hank sort of understood it was probably a little degrading for Richard, but fuck if the sound of the chain didn’t go straight to his cock. Despite that, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to convince Richard to go along with the second part of the plan. He was pretty angry. It seemed he was even washing up and brushing his teeth to avoid coming back. Hoping to ease the tension, Hank slipped out and went to the kitchen to brew a pot of tea. Unfortunately, that meant that Richard came out while he was gone and noticed the nondescript box on his bedside. His cheeks flushed as he looked up at him, and Hank almost dropped the tray when he realised he’d actually have to explain it to him now.

“A-ah, I-I wasn’t quite ready to-uh, what I mean is, I wasn’t going to-”

“You weren’t going to what?” He still sounded mad. Hoping to smooth things over, Hank set the tray on the chest of drawers before crossing and taking the black box, closing it with a magnetic snap. Sitting next to Richard in his boxers, the conversation felt pretty weird. He’d expected to talk about this when they were both more awake, and likely after Richard got over the chain. He probably thought it was a weird kink thing now. Technically, it was a weird kink thing, just not one of his. Allen seemed to know all about it though and seemed excited by the prospect of adding more gifts if Richard agreed to go along with this.

“I wasn’t ready to bring it up yet, and it wasn’t my idea.” Richard huffed at that. He could guess whose idea it was. He’d known Allen for a long time, and heard about many of his escapades over the years. The things he’d done and situations he’d gotten himself into would give a virgin a heart attack. He tried not to think about his own curiosity during those conversations and the sense of lacking in his own simple life. In his younger years, he’d wondered if he was too boring, and now he was older, he felt he lacked experience in most areas.

“What is it?” Hank ran an awkward hand through his hair at that. He wasn’t exactly versed in this sort of thing himself, but Allen had given him a crash course, and he’d read the packaging while cleaning it up and getting it ready. Just in case.

“Just a plug...It-uh, it goes in and there’s a remote to make it buzz...It’s supposed to feel nice.” Having seen the shape and read a little of the packaging, Richard didn’t need to ask where it was supposed to go. He was inexperienced; not stupid. Hank turned to face him, cocking one leg on the edge of the bed. “Allen thought a new experience might be enough to distract you...Give you something else to focus on besides getting under our feet all day.” His voice was soft and teasing, filled with affection from all the times he’d had to cart him back to bed over the past few days. Richard was a little offended to hear he’d been getting under their feet. It really did make him sound like a dog, and now he’d been given a chew toy to keep him busy. “I-I thought it might be fun, you know?”

“Fun?” Fun for who? He knew many people enjoyed this stuff, but despite his curiosity, he’d never done it himself.

“It might make a fun game, you know...You wearing the plug, me pressing the button, and you not touching yourself until I say so.” Richard balked, chestnut eyes shooting wide at the thought. That really did sound more like the sort of game Allen would play than him. He was just a simple man with simple urges. It probably wasn’t a game meant for him. “You might like it...Texting to tell me how you’re doing and asking if you can come.” That didn’t sound like fun at all! It sounded embarrassing as hell! Despite his timidity, he could see the heat clear enough in Hank’s eyes to know he was up for trying it. He’s not the one getting plugged! The thought of being trapped in bed with that weird stick buzzing in his ass was less than appealing.

“I-I don’t think-” He cut off as Hank leaned closer, clamming up somewhat as rough whiskers prickled his neck. The light brush sent tingles across his skin and made his cock twitch. It was almost like Hank could read all his insecurities as he leaned closer, warm breath caressing his ear.

“No need to be embarrassed...It’s just you and me.” That didn’t make him feel any better. “I’ve literally had my tongue in your ass.” Richard balked at the reminder. He tried not to think about how much of his body Hank had seen. A large hand crossed his body to rub slow circles on his right hip, making him squirm. “You’ll be on your own up here. I can tell Allen not to come over, and you only have to text me if you want to.” That did make it seem a little less outrageous. It really wasn’t that different to jerking off. “If you decide you don’t like it, you can just take it out and I won’t mention it again.” Well, that was true. Richard gasped as the hand on his hip snuck across to grip the growing bulge in his pants. “Looks like your cock is interested, at least.” Richard balked at the teasing, outright shuddering into Hank’s shoulder as he chuckled and rubbed back and forth.

“Fuck, alright, but what are the rules?” Hank smirked as he drew back and kissed him in reward.

“Simple...” Richard gasped, clinging to Hank’s large shoulder with his good arm as Hank leaned over him and lowered him to the bed. “You sit here looking pretty while I plug you up and you try not to touch yourself. When you can’t take it anymore, you can call or text and I’ll give you some instructions.” Richard whined softly, feeling heat light his cheeks as a large, rough hand slipped in his boxers to rub and caress his ass. Hank remained mindful as he propped himself up, making sure he didn’t touch Richard’s injured arm as he leaned over him.

“W-what sort of instructions?” Hank chuckled gruffly as he slowly edged Richard’s bottoms down to leave his ass bare against the sheets.

“How I want you to touch yourself. Grip hard or soft. Pump slow or fast. I’ll ask you to tell me how much you’re dripping, if you can feel yourself throbbing with the need to come. And just when you don’t think you can take it, I might give you permission.” Richard felt so small he swore the bed should open up and swallow him. Who the hell does that? Hank chuckled as if he could tell what he was thinking. “You feel weird about it now, but I’m pretty sure with the right motivation, you won’t even think about how much you’re begging.” Begging? Who said anything about begging? “Oh? Don’t think you will? Only one way to find out...” Richard twitched as a single finger rubbed and circled his tight ring. Hank was smirking in a way that made his brow twitch. He didn’t think he could do it? Richard’s lips thinned at that.

“Fine.” Hank was a little surprised as Richard’s hips bucked for more. “Plug me.” Fuck, he wasn’t about to turn down a salacious purr like that, especially when they so rarely fell from Richard’s lips. Richard almost regretted accepting as Hank attacked his lips and gripped his ass. Lacing his fingers in Hank’s tangled hair, he pulled him closer, only drawing back as Hank reached over to blindly fumble for the box on the table. Nerves fluttered in Richard’s gut as he watched Hank open the box and pluck the smooth black silicone from the foam case. It was weird. Probably three inches long, like a row of four balls, but slightly curved.

“I’ll make sure you don’t regret this.” Richard was less than reassured as Hank uncapped the lube and coated his fingers. He couldn’t just shove it in, after all. “Lift your ass for me, honey...Attaboy.” Those were fast becoming two of Richard’s favourite phrases. Planting his feet on the mattress, he lifted his ass enough to give Hank room to finger him open. At any other time, feeling Richard’s ass tightening around his fingers and feeling him squirm against his hand would have him sinking in right away, but today he had other plans. Richard whined as the fingers withdrew. It felt like he’d barely started when his fingers were gone and something smaller and harder was working its way inside. Hank kissed him as he pushed it in all the way, just the long, flat end keeping it trapped in place. It felt weird. Hank fingered the end, pushing and pulling to make the plug rock in his passage. “You like that, honey?” Richard wasn’t sure he did. It didn’t hurt, but it was just sort of in there.

“It’s alright.” Hank would take that for now. Plucking a tissue, he wiped up any excess lube and helped Richard sit up. Richard squirmed into his pants as he did so. Weird. Definitely weird. He wasn’t sure he liked it as he felt the plug move and slip.

“Don’t worry, you should get used to it after a while.” Richard nodded. Hank was right. It was his first time wearing a plug, so there was bound to be an adjustment period. Picking up the small remote, Hank held it up for him to see. He even handed it over so Richard could turn the egg-like device this way and that. There was an on button, of course, and then a plus and minus. “Those are to dial up the intensity...There are a few buzzing patterns as well.” Richard wasn’t sure he understood that part, but he was sure Hank would enlighten him later. Hank chuckled as Richard pressed the on button and almost jumped off the bed. He knew it was supposed to buzz, but he hadn’t quite expected it to feel like that.

It was on the lowest setting, which was perhaps why it wasn’t doing much besides making his insides thrum slightly. There was a certain oddness, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant, especially when he squirmed. It intensified the feeling of the silicone rubbing and grinding his passage. Noticing how he was squirming, Hank set a hand on his thigh, keeping his touch light because of the bruising. Richard stilled at Hank’s touch, but it didn’t escape either of their notice that his cock twitched, still half-hard from the earlier fingering.

“You want to leave it on?” Hank asked as he took the remote back, but Richard shook his head. He really needed to get used to the plug itself before they played with the buzzing. With that in mind, Hank obligingly turned it off and pocketed the remote for later. “I’ll be testing the distance on this a bit. It probably won’t work from all the way out in the field.” That was probably true. Richard watched as Hank crossed to the dresser and poured the tea, meekly accepting the cup and sipping away as he perched on Hank’s side of the bed. Hank joined him, trying not to smirk too much at the way he kept fidgeting. I have the feeling today is going to be fun...

Chapter Text

Richard sighed from his place on top of the covers, trying to enjoy the light breeze and focus on his book. The problem with that was he could still feel the plug in his ass. Sure, he knew that was sort of the point, but he just couldn’t stop squirming. It didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel great either. It was just there. Lodged in his passage. Rubbing his walls. Stretching his rim. Teasing his perineum whenever he moved. His cock was only vaguely interested, giving the occasional half-hearted twitch. Part of him wanted to reach back and take it out just to be able to focus on his book, but the other part was curious to see how the day would go. So far, curiosity was winning.

Just when he was getting into his current page, his focus was broken by a gentle humming sensation, the sound buzzing in the quiet room. Are these things supposed to be this loud? It probably didn’t matter with him being on his own, but wasn’t the idea of these things to wear them in public? The thought of someone else hearing it made his cheeks flush. They’d probably politely stop him to tell him his phone was ringing or something. He could just imagine the look on Hank’s face if something like that happened. He’d probably dial it up a notch just to make him blush more.

Hey, did it turn on? It was his phone. Setting his book aside, Richard picked it up to respond.

Yes. He wasn’t sure what else to say besides that. Seconds later, the buzzing stopped. That was something of a relief. It was more distracting than just wearing the plug. Richard had barely set his phone aside and lifted his book than the plug went off again. His brow ticked as he lowered his book and grabbed his phone again.

How about now? Richard sighed as he typed out the same response, and the buzzing cut off. He waited a few moments, and just when he thought he was safe to start reading again, the plug buzzed to life. Now? Richard couldn’t help wondering if he was doing this on purpose. He clearly is, but why? There was only one way to find out.

Yes. Why do you keep asking?

Testing the distance. I’m on my way to the sheep, so it’ll probably cut out soon. Richard waited for the buzzing to stop and left his book to the side. If Hank was going to keep pressing the damned thing, he may as well wait for him to finish his testing. Now?

No, not this time. It seemed they’d found the limit, and since Hank was out in the field, that meant Richard would be free for a while. Returning to his book, Richard sighed and settled against the pillows. He almost dropped his book in surprise as the buzzing returned, and picked up his phone to find another message from Hank.

Good, I’ll leave you like this for now. Have fun while I’m gone. Text me if you need anything. Richard gritted his teeth, tempted to tell him to shut the damned thing off, but this was all supposed to be part of the game. It wasn’t so bad. As he set his book aside and closed his eyes, the buzzing was even sort of nice. Maybe even relaxing. He wasn’t about to grab his cock or anything like that, but it was enough to send a few tingles across his skin. I’m getting a little hot...Unbuttoning his shirt, Richard shrugged it off his good shoulder, enjoying the breeze as it tickled his chest hair. He licked his lips, squirming as the buzzing continued. Maybe it did feel pretty good.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been, but his cock had just started to take a proper interest when the buzzing stopped. His eyes snapped open, a sense of loss swirling in the pit of his stomach. It was just getting good! Richard sighed in frustration, reminding himself that it was all part of the game. The idea was for Hank to have control and tease him whenever he felt like it. It was his job to lie there and take it until he couldn’t anymore. Fat chance! His cheeks flushed a little as his phone buzzed with another message.

How are you doing? Was that good?

It was alright. His insides twisted at the half-lie. It was a little better than alright, but he wasn’t about to let Hank know so that he could leave him like that again. He outright gasped as the buzzing returned, only it was slightly stronger this time. The buzz was louder and deeper, and he swore he could actually sort of feel it rumbling in his passage this time. A small sound stuck in his throat as he pushed back into the pillows and bent his knees, rocking his ass on the sheets to grind the plug.

Maybe setting one is a little too soft. How’s this? Richard was pretty sure Hank knew what he was doing, but how could he reply in a way that wouldn’t give away how much it affected him? If you don’t answer me, I’ll turn it up more.

Don’t you dare! A moan slipped out as Hank did just that. Setting three brought with it a new thrum that seemed to reach even deeper, just brushing the edge of something wonderful. Richard rocked his hips. He was so sure that if he nudged it just right, it would-He almost growled as the buzzing stopped completely.

Don’t talk to me like that. Richard’s cock twitched at the reproach in Hank’s message. Fuck, that was actually sort of hot. Unsure what to do, Richard waited to see what Hank would say next. Are you alright? I just wanted to make sure it felt good. He warmed a little at that. Hank wanted it to be enjoyable. Tell me how you feel. How did he feel? Richard leaned back on the pillows with a sigh, looking out at the blue sky, following the path of the fluffy white clouds slowly drifting by.

Setting two made me feel a little more. His stomach churned with embarrassment as he sent the message, mouth falling open seconds later as setting two returned.

Oh? Feel how? He wasn’t sure how to describe it. It seemed he’d paused a little too long as his phone buzzed again. Did it make you hard? Richard bit his lip and looked at the far wall. Should he really admit something like that? It was only Hank. It wasn’t the first time he’d made him hard. This was a little different from usual though.

A little. That seemed like a sort of compromise. A small admission of interest. He whined as the buzzing increased, actively squirming and trying to press the feeling deeper. He almost didn’t notice the buzz of his phone this time.

How about setting three?

It’s doing something. Richard wasn’t sure what else to say about it, but his answer certainly piqued Hank’s interest as he asked for more details. Richard wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so embarrassed as he tried to work out how to answer that. It sort of hits deeper. I can feel it in there, like it’s hitting the edge of something good. The feeling soon hit him with clarity as the buzzing increased. The vibrations were hitting right against a sensitive spot, somewhere deep inside. He’d never felt anything like it, but it felt really fucking good, like a growing bud of pleasure knotting deep in his ass, but also sort of in his pelvis. His hips bucked, trying to chase the feeling.

Can you feel it more now?

Yes. He could almost imagine how Hank was smirking out there as he read his messages. Richard outright whined as the setting dropped all the way down to one, leaving him twitching and squirming.

Are you touching yourself? That hadn’t actually occurred to him, but he recalled that being part of the game, too.

No.

Good. I haven’t given you permission yet. Richard bit his lip at that. Maybe this game wasn’t so bad after all. Now the buzzing had trailed off to something softer, his cock relaxed. Time seemed to crawl as Richard paused, staring at his phone and waiting for something to happen. Maybe he should say something first, but what? He almost cringed at the thought of simpering for Hank’s attention. I’m heading to the pigsty. Do you want me to leave you on setting one or two? Richard bit his lip. That was quite a choice. He knew he could handle setting one, but what would it be like to be left on setting two? How long would Hank be gone?

Two.

Attaboy. Richard whined at the praise and closed his eyes as the thrum increased. Remember, no touching. Richard nodded before remembering Hank had no way of seeing him.

Alright. Settling against the pillow, Richard set his phone aside and closed his eyes again. Fuck, that was nice. His whole body felt warm and sort of tingly. His injured arm remained across his chest, throbbing occasionally if he squirmed too much on that side. If anything, the ache seemed to add to the sensitivity. His cock was filling out, and the creeping sensitivity made it more than a little tempting to touch himself. Surely a little relief wouldn’t be that bad? But asking Hank was part of the game. He wasn’t sure he was ready to go that far yet. Whining, he looped his free arm behind his head, resisting temptation.

How are you feeling? Is it good yet? That was a question he could answer without too much of an admission.

Yes.

Getting a little hot, hm? How did he know? Though, maybe it wasn’t surprising. It was the middle of summer. His heart picked up a little as he considered his answer. He decided to go with something simple. Hank could read into it what he would.

Yes.

Still dressed? How much of that should he answer? To say yes would be a bit of a lie, considering he’d slipped his shirt most of the way off. He didn’t say I couldn’t get comfortable though, I’m just not supposed to touch...

I pulled my shirt off earlier.

Great, now take your pants off. Richard’s cock twitched at the order.

Ok. Maybe it was a lame response, but what else was he supposed to say?

Maybe you should say Yes Sir when you talk to me. Was that supposed to be part of the game? It did sort of go with the whole giving orders thing, but it was a little embarrassing. But how will Hank react? It was sort of tempting, but he could feel his cheeks heating already at the prospect. Hank’s earlier words return to him. It’s just us. No one else knew about these messages. It’s not like Hank was going to go around showing them off.

Yes Sir. He gasped as the buzzing ramped up to four, squirming and whining as it hit that spot. Within a few seconds, it dropped back to two, leaving him frustrated and wanting.

That’s good, honey. Richard squirmed at the praise, breathing into his palm to steady himself from the aftershocks. Send me a picture when you’re done. That made him a little more nervous, but he was pretty sure at this point that Hank wouldn’t go sharing it around. With that in mind, he did his best to shuffle his pants down. It took a little wriggling with only one good arm, and he soon left his bottoms and pants in a pile around the chain at his feet. It seemed he’d waited a little too long and made Hank worry. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.

Richard smiled at that as he relaxed against the pillows, bending his knees and parting his thighs as he got the camera ready. His cock was hard now, droplets barely beading at the tip as it twitched and swayed in the breeze. The air actually felt pretty good on his balls at this angle. Richard sent the picture, spine arching moments later as he got another buzz at level four. Gripping his cock had never been so tempting as he ground the mattress and gripped the pillow above his head. Would it be alright to touch a little? Maybe just his chest? That would break the rules of the game though.

Fuck, you look hot. His cheeks burned at the outrageous lie, making him squirm as the buzz dialled down again. You look pretty hard. Do you feel like you need to touch yourself yet? Richard balked. Now he’d been asked, he wasn’t sure what to say. Was agreeing an admission of weakness? He’d said he wouldn’t beg! He whined as the buzz increased to level three. It was that annoying buzz that was just on the edge of being so good. Gripping his cock would probably get him there. Answer me, Richie. Do you want to touch yourself?

Yes Sir. Fuck, he couldn’t take it! The buzz dialled up in reward before tapering off to level two again, leaving him whining in protest. It was almost like Hank knew. He could just imagine the deep rumbling chuckle he’d let out if he saw him.

You can touch your chest. Go ahead and stroke...Just circle your thumb over those little buds. Richard whined as he did as he was told, biting his lip at the little tingles that caused. It was frustrating, only having one hand. He could only touch one at a time, and if he wanted to reply to Hank, he had to stop altogether. Are you doing it? Fuck, stopping was annoying.

Yes Sir. The level stayed at two, but the addition of teasing his nipples was nice.

That’s good honey. Now pinch and roll them. Richard cursed as he did as he was told, noting a definite increase in those little tingles. With the summer heat and increased blood flow, his back was starting to stick to the sheets. He was getting flushed and clammy, squirming and panting as the thrum in his ass continued. It was hard not to be impatient, being left alone, waiting for a response. He was tempted to message back and ask what was next, especially as his phone remained dark and silent. It occurred to him, as he looked down at his dripping cock, that this was what Hank wanted. He wanted him to squirm and be impatient. Determined not to let on how affected he was, Richard deepened his breaths and closed his eyes, focusing instead on the breeze from the open window as it caressed his naked skin. How are you doing?

Alright. A little hot. His house didn’t have proper air conditioning, just freestanding fans downstairs. His bedroom was a little stuffy, even with the window open, but he was usually out and about during the day.

Getting frustrated? Yes. That would be the honest answer, but Richard was unwilling to admit something that would put him at Hank’s mercy like that. Not that he wasn’t at his mercy anyway, but admitting it like that was embarrassing.

Not really. That was less of a lie than denying altogether. It seemed Hank saw through it, too. Richard whined and tossed his head as the thrums dialled up to what felt like a five or six. A deep, rumbling hum that made his insides tremble, especially that little bud that had only been lightly teased before. His ass ground the sheets as he pinched his nipples, cock swaying in the breeze and tapping his pelvis with each squirm and thrust.

Oh, really? Maybe I should try harder. Richard felt his cheeks heat as he read the message, the buzzing now back to level two. A sense of mild dread settled in Richard’s stomach as he stared at the phone, waiting for whatever was coming next.

Alright, maybe I’m a little frustrated. The level dialled up to three for a while before calming again, making Richard look at his cock with a sense of longing. He could just pump it a little. Hank wouldn’t know. It wasn’t like he was on camera. But that’s not part of the game. Richard was many things, but he liked to think he didn’t need to stoop to cheating.

See? That wasn’t so hard. See what you get when you’re honest? Richard clicked his tongue softly. He wasn’t that dishonest! It was a half-lie at best! I’m going to be out of range for a while. Do you want it on level one or should I give you a break? He was going to leave him after all that? Are you fucking kidding me? Or if you think you can resist touching yourself, I could leave you on level two? He was really going to leave him like this?

Or you could finish playing with me first. He could almost hear Hank’s chuckle in his response.

This is supposed to keep you distracted all day! Don’t want to get carried away too quickly. We’ve barely been at it for two hours. Richard blinked at that.

Two hours? It felt ten times longer than that! It must have been at least five! But looking at the clock confirmed it. Hank hadn’t left the house until after six, and it was barely eight-thirty now. Richard whined softly, thudding his head on the pillows.

I’ll turn it off for a while. Wouldn’t want to burn you out too quickly. Maybe that was for the best, but as the vibrations stopped, Richard’s frustration increased. Now he was left with nothing but a hard, dripping cock and sweaty skin. That was worse, and he couldn’t even shower without help. He’d definitely be asking Hank to help with that later. It was the least he could do, considering the sweaty mess was his fault. Maybe he’d have him change the sheets, too. Fuck, if he had his way at the end of the day, he’d need to! No touching, remember.

Yes Sir. Richard almost glared at his cock before picking up his book and putting it out of his mind. He wasn’t going to cheat, and without further stimulation, it would deflate on its own. Eventually...Maybe he should have asked Hank to leave it on. Setting one probably wouldn’t have been so bad. He’d been on setting two for quite a while already. What’s the worst that could happen? Now he was just unsatisfied. It seemed to take a lot longer this time before the buzz returned, jolting him out of his book with a gasp and making his limp cock twitch.

I’m back. Did you miss me? Richard almost glared at his phone as he squirmed, thoroughly assaulted by the sudden barrage of level four. His skin tingled, cold prickles running up and down his arms. That deep spot was thoroughly abused as he squirmed, free hand automatically returning to his solid nipples. I’ll leave you on level two while I clean out my coop. Fuck, it was almost cruel to leave him like this. Asking for more was always an option, but like hell he was about to go begging for attention.

That pleasant hum returned, settling over him in a pleasurable haze as he stared at the sky with lidded eyes. His cock was quick to revive this time, swaying eagerly as a teasing reminder of what he couldn’t have. The thought crossed his mind, of course. A light stroke wouldn’t hurt. A brief touch. However, Richard was stubborn as he buried his feet in the duvet. He wasn’t going to break the rules, and he wasn’t going to beg. What the-He whined softly, squirming and writhing as a new rhythm set in. It seemed Hank had changed the vibration setting. It started at a light hum that he could barely feel before rising to a crescendo that made his thighs quiver. O-oh fuck...It wasn’t so bad to start with, but there was a definite buildup as time wore on, increasing the pleasure swirling in his gut.

How’s the new setting? Richard glared at his phone. Hank damned well know how it was! Tell me.

It’s like a wave of vibrations from low to high.

That’s not what I meant. Do you like it? Richard whined as his whole stomach thrummed. If Hank wasn’t careful, he was going to spill. But does he know that? How would he unless he was told? It wasn’t like there were cameras.

It’s more intense. That was about as much of an admission as he was willing to make.

How so?

I think I might come. The vibrations eased off to level one, leaving Richard whining and frustrated.

Now-now, Richie. I’m the one who says when you can come, remember? How could he forget? Why don’t you stroke that little cock of yours? Just stroking mind. No gripping. Richard openly whined at the permission. Leaving his now sore nipples, he stroked lower, fingering through the soft hair on his chest and abs before lightly petting his twitching cock. He bit his lip, fighting the urge to close his hand. He wasn’t supposed to grip. It was almost cruel when his phone buzzed and he had to stop. Does it feel good?

Yes Sir. Unsure what to do, Richard kept his phone ready for the next message. It seemed pointless to put it down just to stop what he was doing and pick it up moments later.

Good. Keep doing that.

Anything else? Richard was getting more than a little frustrated with this constant back and forth.

What do you mean? Now it seemed like Hank was worried. Sighing, Richard shuffled higher on the pillows to type back.

It’s just a little hard to do stuff when I have to stop and type out replies every few seconds. It took barely more than five seconds for his phone to start buzzing with an incoming call. Really? He’s calling now? He didn’t feel ready for this. This was even more embarrassing than the texting. But it is easier than all the texting. Hitting answer, he set the phone to speaker and put it on the pillow by his head.

“If you wanted to hear my voice, you could have just said so,” Hank teased on the other end. The clucking in the background was enough to tell Richard he was still in the coop, along with a lot of crunching and scraping as he worked on cleaning up the old bedding.

“T-that’s not it! I only have one arm right now!” He bit his lip at the sound of Hank’s deep chuckle on the other end.

“It’s alright to admit it, Richie. I know you have a voice kink.” I do not have a voice kink! He would have said it too, if Hank hadn’t continued. “I bet you’ve been thinking about it all morning, haven’t you? Getting me to say it out loud.” Maybe he’d imagined how he might chuckle and grumble, but he hadn’t planned on calling. “Now you have my attention, why don’t you go ahead and pick up where you left off? Pet that pretty cock for me.” There was something incredibly hot about the almost degrading why Hank described it. Richard cursed under his breath as he did as he was told, keeping his hand open and lightly petting his twitching cock. “Describe it to me...How does it feel?” Richard cringed inwardly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“U-uh-I-um...” Hank’s deep chuckle rumbled by his ear, making him whine softly.

“Come on, Richie. It’s just us here...Does it feel good?” Richard licked his lips as he thought it over.

“I-it’s...It’s not bad, but...I-I guess it’s not enough?” His voice lifted at the end like it was a question, making Hank hum softly. “Petting doesn’t do much.” Except adding to his frustration. It seemed Hank picked up a little of the second part in his tone.

“How hard are you? Are you dripping, Richie?” A small gasp slipped out at the question as Richard continued petting, stroking back and forth along the underside of his cock. Fuck, it was so tempting to just close his hand around it and-

“I-I’m hard...” He wasn’t ready to admit the second part. His cheeks felt so hot he swore they must be red.

“Alright, Richie. You’ve been a good boy, so I’m going to let you close your hand. No gripping mind. Just lightly hold it.” Richard whined as he obeyed, teeth biting his lip as his cock throbbed. “That’s it...Now run your thumb over the tip.” Forgetting himself, Richard openly moaned as he did as he was told. “Is that good, honey?”

“Yes, Sir.” The answer was almost natural as it slipped out. Hank chuckled softly on the other end; the sound of work stopped.

“You want more?” Richard whined softly, pressing his thumb harder and spreading the pearly droplets around his sensitive glans. Fuck, it felt so good. “Hmm?”

“Y-yes.”

“Beg me.” Richard moaned softly, glaring at the phone and thinning his lips. That was exactly what he’d said he wouldn’t do! Why should he beg? He didn’t even have to play this stupid game! “Still not there yet?” Richard outright moaned as the vibrations increased to level three, leaving that delicious sensation just out of reach. Fuck, it would be so good. “How about it? All you need to do is say one little word, Richie...” Fuck, it was tempting. Richard whined softly, cock throbbing at the thought of what might happen if he gave in.

“Fuck, please!” Hank chuckled softly, clearly pleased with himself.

“Attaboy, Richie...Now grip your cock and stroke it nice and slow.” Richard cursed inwardly as he did as he was told, letting out a shuddering breath and squirming on the damp sheets. “Does it feel good? Come on, let me hear you.” Richard moaned louder at that, closing his eyes and tightening his grip. Hank had said to keep it slow, so that’s what he did. It was nowhere near enough. His breath shuddered as the buzz in his passage increased again, still following that rise and fall that was driving him crazy.

“I-it feels good.” A little mewl slipped out as he heard Hank curse on the other end. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but he swore he was panting. Fuck, he could just imagine him out there now. Unable to focus, he’d set his work aside and moved to a discreet spot where he could pull his cock out. Unlike Richard, who had to wait, Hank  would give himself fast, firm pumps as he growled into his phone.

“Oh yeah? How good?” Richard whined. Couldn’t he hear? Did he have to make him say it?

“R-really good...H-Henry!” Hank almost growled at the sound, which made Richard moan louder in response. Hank’s breaths had picked up. He wasn’t even bothering to hide it as he cursed and grumbled.

“You ready, honey? You want to come for me?” Richard shuddered at the questions. He’d gone too far to play coy now. Hank could hear each pant and whine that slipped out.

“Y-yes...P-please, I want to come, please!” He’d never felt more embarrassed than he did as Hank laughed.

“Not yet.” That was cruel. Richard mewled in protest, biting his lip and easing his grip a little. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about the continuous buzzing in his passage, still rising and falling in an endless cycle, building him up more and more. He wouldn’t have a choice about coming soon. “Pick up the speed. Work that cock good and hard for me.” Richard moaned as he did as he was told, greedily rocking his hips. The added pressure on his shoulder made him wince, but at this point, the pain was just adding to the pleasure.

“H-Henry, I-I need-I don’t think I can hold it!” That coil of pleasure was tightening in his pelvis, making his cock throb and drip even more. Thumbing the tip, he let out another helpless moan. “P-please!” His fist tightened, waiting for a signal from Hank. Holding back was painful. It would be even worse if Hank made him cut it off completely.

“Fuck, alright. Let me hear you come for me.”

“H-Henry!” Richard worked his fist harder, rocking and squirming his ass on the mattress as that persistent buzzing continued. When he came, it was hard and fast. He made sure to spill on his thighs, unwilling to risk staining his sling, which was unpleasantly clammy across his chest. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. The knot of pleasure thrumming in his passage was somehow disconnected from the release from his cock. It was almost like coming in two different places at around the same time. His whole body shuddered uncontrollably, drawing the pleasure out for what seemed like a full minute. Even after that the rolling buzz in his passage didn’t let up, still teasing the sensitive bud buried deep inside. “O-off! Turn it off!” Now that he’d come, it was too much.

“Are you alright Richie?”

“Yeah, just...sensitive...And gross.” He wanted a shower, but he wouldn’t be able to do that alone. He’d need help so he didn’t jostle his arm taking the sling off and cleaning. On the other end, Hank chuckled softly, though he still sounded a little breathless.

“Sit tight. I’ll be back across for lunch soon.” Richard’s cheeks heated a little at that as he sat up and reached for some tissues. He certainly wasn’t going to sit there covered in his own release until he came back.

“Sure, see you soon.” Maybe he could actually get in a few pages of his book without interruption this time.

Chapter Text

“H-Henry!” Hank growled low in his throat and leaned his head on Richard’s good shoulder. It should be illegal for him to make sounds like that when he wasn’t allowed to fuck him within an inch of his life as he wanted to. Richard whined and trembled, gasping in a breath as Hank’s cock settled in somewhere that felt very much like his abdomen, impossible as he knew that was. One of Hank’s hands settled on his pelvis as the other gripped his hip, almost holding him up. “P-please!” Richard didn’t even know what he was asking for as Hank hushed in his ear.

“Alright honey, use the wall.” Richard whined as he did as he was told and leaned his good hand on the wall. He was on his knees, legs spread wide to accept Hank’s thighs between them. Hank was gentle as he guided him a little higher, keeping most of his weight on his thighs and giving him enough room to rock his hips. “Attaboy...” Another mewl slipped out as Hank pulled out a little, leaving his passage stretched and wanting before sliding back in with a small clap. Richard panted and tipped his head back, subconsciously sticking his ass out for more.

They were now on day four of their little arrangement, though Richard was getting a little tired. Mentally and physically. This physical intimacy was a nice addition to the flirting. Hank had been hesitant before, but he’d finally agreed to keep Richard happy. Getting teased all day without a real payoff was frustrating, nice as those orgasms could be. He still wasn’t entirely used to the game they were playing, but it was getting a little less awkward now. Richard was pretty sure he’d also found a way to rid himself of the chain. Where a few days ago he’d been weak and feeble, he was now a lot less tender. With any luck, he’d be able to push off the mattress and lift the bed frame enough to pull the chain free.

“F-Fu-H-He-” If he could fucking walk afterwards. Whiskers prickled his shoulder as Hank’s lips and teeth nipped a path up his neck. His arm shook as he leaned more of his weight on the wall, his left shoulder still twinging painfully as he tried to keep it still in its sling. Hank was doing his best not to jostle him, holding him steady and slowly fucking him. The slow pace made it worse. It was fucking torturous, being held captive on his knees when what he really wanted to do was rock back and ride that cock like he was born for it. Hank knew it, too. He could feel his hips trying to jerk and roll against him with each slow thud.

“Keep it steady now...” Richard moaned in frustration and shuddered as Hank chuckled in his ear. “I know, honey, just hold on a little longer.” A little longer? His cock was hard and twitching, but nowhere near ready to burst at this pace. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Hank was determined to fuck all the energy out of him so he wouldn’t leave the bed for a week. He wasn’t exactly objecting to the idea, of course. Hot breath teased his ear just before sharp teeth nibbled the shell, making him whine as he pushed back.

Hank was still moving painfully slowly, lifting his body and easing it down. The feeling of his cock slipping and sliding in his ass was sinful. He hadn’t quite managed to find that spot, but it was still giving him a slow buildup. His pelvis twitched and tightened with each thrust, cock rising and falling as it gave a half-hearted twitch. If he had a free hand, he’d reach down to grip and tease his own dripping cock, or caress his slowly swinging balls. Fuck, he might even reach back and give Hank’s a squeeze, something to spark him into action. As it was, he was completely at Hank’s mercy. Hank knew it too. He moaned low in his ear, sneaking the hand on his abdomen higher to pull him against his chest and tease his nipples.

“Fuck, you’re a pretty sight on your knees.” Richard doubted that somewhat. He was middle-aged and hairy. Sure, his body was still in good shape from all the riding, but he’d never thought of himself as pretty, or even handsome. “Fuck, that’s it, honey. Grip my cock, attaboy.” Richard moaned as his abdomen twitched. He could almost feel his ass clamping down on Hank’s cock, trying to pull him deeper and keep him inside. Pushing deep, Hank let out another contented moan, still teasing his nipples as the hand on his hip finally stroked closer to his cock. Yes! Fuck, please-please...

“H-Henry...” He was stroking his curls, barely teasing the base of his cock. A questioning hum sounded in his ear, almost daring him to ask the question. “Fuck, Henry-please!” Richard keened as that large hand finally closed around his cock, thumb caressing the tip almost lovingly. Richard squirmed more at that and felt the weight against his back increase.

“Attaboy, Richie.” Richard whined and shuddered, letting Hank fist his cock and rock as he pleased. The roll of his hips was almost natural as he rode Hank’s cock, gasping and whining with each slow clap of flesh. With the added stimulation, the build-up was getting faster and stronger. Within a few minutes, he was ready to burst, pushing off the wall to tangle his fingers in Hank’s silver hair and pull him closer. Their lips met in a messy kiss moments before he finally spilled, painting the wall and dripping on the pillows. He fell breathless in Hank’s arms, trusting him to hold him, which he did. Hank chuckled softly as he pulled out and finished on his ass. Richard grunted, almost glaring as Hank leaned him against the wall to enjoy the sight of his own seed dripping over his ass and down his thighs. “I know-I know, I’ll clean up.”

It was nice that he didn’t have to say it out loud. Carrying him to the bathroom, which wasn’t necessary, he could still walk, Hank turned on the shower and slowly cleaned him off. He was free to hose down and scrub the lower half, but settled for a damp cloth on the upper half. Richard stood patiently as he worked, sighing and leaning into the firm touches before being towelled off and returned to the bedroom. He didn’t dress. There was no point. It was too hot for clothes, and getting items over the chain was impractical. Once Hank had dressed and changed the bedding, he left Richard with a fleeting kiss and headed out to the fields, giving him a break from the plug after the long session that morning.

After a quick nap that lasted perhaps an hour, Richard pulled up his discarded pants and got to work on his escape plan. Getting the mattress off the frame with one hand was a pain and left a deep ache in his good shoulder. He settled for pushing it mostly off the bed so the weight was on the floor and went to the corner where his chain was looped around the post. Bending his knees, he grabbed the base of the frame and lifted, grunting at the weight. Since the bed was so heavy, it was difficult to hold it up while using one foot to kick the chain clear. Difficult, but not impossible. He dropped the bed with a relieved sigh, panting as he gathered the length and looped it over his shoulder. He didn’t want it to trip him, so carrying it seemed best.

Taking his phone with him, he headed down to the kitchen and filled the kettle on the Aga. A pot of tea seemed just what he needed after all that exertion. He took his time as usual, spooning out the leaves and setting up his cup. He even indulged in a couple of biscuits. It was almost a relief to be sitting in the kitchen again after three days confined to his bedroom. Through the window he could see the coop, where his hens were pecking the earth as they clucked and pottered about. In the second pen, he could just make out Nines as he skittered around and hopped at the mesh. It seemed he was getting as restless as he was. Luckily, Nines only had a few more days left in his sling, if all went to plan.

How are you doing? His phone buzzed with the message. Richard filled his teapot before responding, wondering what he should say. He could hardly tell him he was having a cup of tea. Hank didn’t know he’d escaped from the bedroom. How mad would he be when he found out? If he finds out...He could easily be back in bed before he returned. Getting the mattress back up would be a pain, but now he was loose, maybe he could stay that way. He could tuck the end of the chain under the mattress and Hank probably wouldn’t even notice it wasn’t attached to the bed.

A little bored. That was probably how he’d feel if he were still trapped upstairs.

Maybe I should have plugged you up before I left. Richard huffed, ignoring the stirring in his pants at the idea. He wasn’t convinced about this whole plugging thing a few days ago, but it actually wasn’t too bad. Taking orders from Hank was sort of novel, and it certainly seemed to do something for Hank. The doting was also nice. Hank was always gentle when he returned, offering kisses and gentle rousing touches, cleaning him up in the bathroom, and remaking the bed. He’d probably be willing to remove the chain so he could change clothes if he asked him to, but in the heat, it was easier to stay naked. Upstairs, anyway. The kitchen was actually much cooler, the breeze pleasant on his skin as it teased the curls on his chest.

The break is nice. Richard wasn’t sure he could cope with more teasing, not after that slow fucking earlier. Despite his nap, he was still physically drained, though some of that was likely down to lifting the bed. After waiting patiently for the leaves to brew, he poured his first cup and watched the steam dance over the dark surface. Unlike coffee, it wasn’t entirely black. In the small white cup, it was actually more of a reddish brown. He could see right to the bottom, where a few small leaf fragments had gathered.

Nice for you. I sort of miss hearing you whining in my ear while I work. Richard clicked his tongue and tried not to feel too offended. He was quite sure Hank didn’t mean that in a negative way, considering he missed it. Whining indeed...Having said that, he found he quite missed Hank’s voice as well. He’d never really been one for phone calls, but listening to Hank purring orders and encouragements was slowly changing his mind.

I don’t whine! He could imagine the low chuckle Hank would let out upon reading that.

Fine, I miss hearing you mewling like a cat in heat. Richard’s cheeks heated at that. He could hardly deny that he made noise. It would be an outrageous lie. Had he always been so loud? He wasn’t sure. During his school days, he’d had to keep it down or risk being caught, but he remembered more than once a firm hand clapping over his mouth. His adult liaisons had been slightly more memorable, but he couldn’t recall being too loud with them. Then again, no one had fucked him the way Hank did.

Meow. He almost rolled his eyes as he sent the message, well able to imagine Hank’s snicker when he saw it. It was sunny that day. Good weather for Hank to stroll the fields, and even better weather for riding. The itch was returning. The temptation to head out to the stables. Just to visit, of course. He wasn’t so irresponsible that he’d ignore the doctor’s orders. Tempting as it was, there was no way he’d be able to sneak over there without Allen finding him. Though he hadn’t heard him arrive, he was pretty sure he was around the stables somewhere.

Taking his tea, and hoping to soothe some of that restlessness, Richard moved into the living room instead. Setting down his tray and dropping the coiled chain, he sat in his favourite chair and turned on the television. He rarely watched it, but his book and paper were all the way upstairs, and there was only so long he could stare out of the window before he got bored. Daytime television wasn’t much of an escape either. It was abysmal. Poorly written shows, over-dramatised reality TV slop, and news he’d already read about in his paper. The news channel was better than nothing though.

He sipped away at his tea, lazily watching the reporters talking about the latest election. More fake smiles with equally false promises. Politicians rarely followed through with what mattered, even now. It had been the same for as long as he could remember. Some of his earliest memories were listening to his father prattle on about it as his mother went about cleaning the house or ironing the weeks’ laundry. Whenever his father became too much, she would utter the phrase little ears and nod towards him. It usually worked, making his father grumble quietly and return to the paper or television as he giggled and his mother smiled. That wasn’t something that worked as he got older, but with their differing views, they rarely talked about it anyway.

As time wore on, and his teapot slowly emptied, Richard found his eyelids getting heavier. The chair really was quite comfortable, and the breeze from the open window was pleasant. He could hear his chickens clucking outside, and the drone of the reporters on the television lulled him. His head soon fell back, and he subconsciously reached for the recliner switch. It was even more comfortable once his feet were raised. It was only as the door banged shut sometime later that he realised he’d fucked up. He’d meant to sneak back upstairs before Hank returned and noticed he’d escaped.

Of course, upon hearing the television, Hank put his head in the living room to see who was there. At first he didn’t seem surprised at all, considering it was Richard’s house, to find him there. However, moments later, he recalled the chain and how Richard was supposed to be tied to the bed upstairs. He almost seemed amused as he folded his burly arms and leaned on the doorframe. Richard, who was now very much awake, stared back with sleepy defiance. It was his house, damnit! He could go wherever he bloody well pleased!

“And what are you doing down here?” Hank grumbled affectionately, still lounging in the doorway. Richard squirmed slightly. It wasn’t like he needed an excuse to be up and about in his own house!

“I told you I was bored.” Hank huffed as he crossed the room to lean over him, prickly whiskers scratching his temple in that increasingly familiar manner. “I made some tea and watched the news.” See? I was a good boy and stayed out of trouble. It seemed something of his ire slipped into his tone, making Hank’s lips twitch. Long fingers teased through his hair as Hank wondered what to do with him. He certainly hadn’t caused any harm, though how he got the chain off was a mystery.

“I guess we can afford to lose this for a while,” Hank compromised as he pulled a small key from his pocket and unlocked the padlock on the strap. Richard sighed in relief as it was removed, rolling his foot and eyeing the pink skin where the cuff had sat. Hank stroked the offended area before setting the chain aside. “How did you get free anyway?” There was still a loop at the end, so he hadn’t snapped the chain or picked the lock.

“How do you think? I lifted the bed.” Hank frowned at that. “Don’t worry, I was careful. Pushed off the mattress first to make it lighter.” He wasn’t a complete idiot. Going upstairs, Hank checked over the damage and righted the bed. That mattress was pretty heavy, and testing the frame, he found that was also quite weighty. That Richard hadn’t strained anything was mildly surprising. Well, I won’t be doing that again...He didn’t want to risk him further injuring himself. They’d just have to see how things went. If he did as he was told, all should be well. If not, perhaps Allen’s second idea warranted a little more consideration.

Chapter Text

True to his word, Richard was free to do as he pleased the next day. They woke up early, as usual, dressed, and headed downstairs. It was frustrating that he needed so much help to do something so simple as pull on a shirt and socks, but, as he reminded himself constantly, it was only temporary. After a light breakfast, Hank left to start his morning rounds, promising to be back by mid-morning to help him with the chickens. He didn’t like the thought of him struggling out there alone with the feed bucket, so he made him promise to wait. Richard had agreed, but he’d said nothing about visiting the stables.

The moment Hank was out of sight, having hopped the fence to collect Connor and wander into the fields, Richard slipped along the side of the house and turned the corner into his own farmyard. He was in no fit state to do any actual work, but he could at least put his head in and see how the horses were doing. A flurry of snorts and whinnies greeted him as he unlocked the door, along with hooves kicking wood. Multiple heads appeared over stall doors, ears twitching as they nodded in recognition and greeting. No longer limping the way he had a few days ago, Richard ambled his way along, patting noses and murmuring greetings as he went.

“And how are you doing, hm?” He’d stopped at Mellow’s stall, where her deep cream coloured head had appeared, black mane swishing as she nodded. Holding up his good arm, Richard shuffled closer so she could nudge and nose his chest. He winced a little as she nudged his shoulder, patting her neck and grumbling as she lifted her head. “It’s alright, don’t you worry about that.” She snorted as if to argue and moved her nose to nestle on the other side. “It’s not so bad...I’ll be back out here in no time...” He hoped so anyway. He’d be getting the sling off in a few weeks. Getting on a horse again though...That might take a little longer. His jaw tightened at the thought. He was itching to saddle up already, and it had barely been a week!

Since he was there, he decided to make himself useful. Although he couldn’t do any heavy lifting, he could at least give them their breakfast. Obviously, it would take a lot longer than usual. Getting the nosebags on with one hand would be a bitch, but it wasn’t impossible. He’d done it before. He took the thick canvas bags one by one, holding the bag in his left hand while opening the feed sack and shovelling dry feed in with his right. To get around the head, the strap had to be unfastened on one side, so once the horse had their nose buried inside, he balanced the bag on his sling arm and looped the strap over their ears with his good arm. It was painful, fiddly work, and the bags slipped more than once, much to the current horse’s indignation.

“What the hell are you doing?” He was almost halfway through the fifth bag when Hank’s voice interrupted him from the doorway. He barely had time to turn his head before heavy steps had crossed to join him and large hands had taken over, supporting the bag and fastening it in place.

“What are you doing here?” Richard hadn’t expected Hank to notice.

“Who do you think’s been feeding the horses and turning them loose in the morning? Allen doesn’t get here until noon. You think I’d leave them in until then?” He’d thought exactly that. Hank had his own animals to take care of. Richard had never expected him to see to the horses as well, not when he had Allen coming over to help. “Your turn.” Richard winced internally. This is exactly why he’d been chained to the bed until yesterday, and the look on Hank’s face told him as much. Richard almost pouted at the glower he was receiving.

“I just came down to check in and see how they were doing.” Feeding hadn’t originally been part of the plan, but since he was there, it made sense for him to do what he could to help. Allen had been handling things alone for the past week, at least, he’d thought he had. “I was just making myself useful...” Hank huffed fondly at that.

“Your job is to get better, not strain yourself trying to do work around the stables!” Richard hated that Hank was probably right. He was doing his best, but putting on the nose bags by himself was painful work. The horses couldn’t help nudging his mending bones as they nuzzled in trying to eat their breakfast, which made balancing the bag that much harder. “I’ll put the bags on...You can fill them.” Better to let him do a little than risk him coming back in secret and getting himself trampled or something. Hank watched warily as Richard filled a bag and brought it to the next horse, where Hank took it and easily strapped it over the mare’s head.

They worked together, with Hank doing the heavier, harder tasks. It was like being a child again. Hank let him fetch down the harnesses and hold the leading reins as he put them on each horse, ready to lead them down to the fields. Richard wasn’t allowed to lead a horse, just in case it got spooked and tried to bolt. Instead, Hank had him walk alongside him as he led them two at a time. At the field, he let Richard unbolt the metal gate and swing it open. As soon as he had them inside, Hank unclipped the leading reins and turned them loose, watching fondly as they trotted out and scraped the earth.

Nice as it was for Hank to involve him in these small ways, Richard couldn’t help feeling useless. He missed it. He missed being able to work around the stables. Even the smallest task was now an inconvenience. Hank seemed to pick up on it too as he reminded him once again that it was temporary, and he’d been back to it soon. Richard hoped so. By the time all the horses were loose, he was getting antsy. To appease him, and make him feel a little less useless, Hank hurried him along to feed the chickens. Though it took a little longer, it was at least something he could do with one arm.

Hank watched over him as he filled the feed bucket and held back from taking it from him as he crossed to the pen. Richard needed to feel useful. Hank helped with the door and let Richard open the coop for the day. Balancing the bucket on his knee, he tipped most of the feed into the trough to a chorus of morning clucks and scattered more around their feet before leaving. Hank didn’t even think to argue as Richard headed for the fence. Instead, he climbed over first and held Richard’s good arm as he climbed. On the other side, he helped him down and guided him around Connor and into the pen. It seemed Connor understood something of Richard’s pained state. He remained on all fours and didn’t even attempt to jump at him as they passed.

Inside the second pen, Hank lifted the lid of Nines’ crate and let Richard pet and fuss over him. He ran his fingers over Nines’ comb and teased his neck feathers before stroking his good wing. Nines cooed softly in greeting, dark eyes looking up at Richard with a glimmer of recognition. Richard hesitated to think there might even be something accusing about the look he was given. A quiet reprimand for not coming out for four days. An impatient beak nipped his fingers, though it didn’t really hurt. It was almost a greeting, coming from Nines.

“I know, I’m sorry...Looks like we match now,” Richard huffed as he patted his own blue sling. He could have sworn the cluck Nines gave was an agreement as he drew back and looked at Hank. There was no way he’d risk trying to pick Nines up with one hand. He didn’t want to drop him. Hank didn’t say a word as he bent down to scoop Nines up and set him free. Nines stretched his good wing in something akin to relief and scraped the dry earth. Richard refilled the bowl in his crate and scattered the rest across the ground, enjoying the sight of Nines strutting about, swishing his tail. “Has Gavin been over lately?” He’d been somewhat out of the loop for the past few days.

“Just the once. Now he’s on the mend, Nines isn’t taking Gavin’s dominant attitude, so they keep fighting. It might be best to keep them separated until that wing’s healed.” Richard nodded his agreement. He didn’t want to risk Nines getting hurt, and he was quite sure that Gavin wouldn’t want that on his conscience. A rooster with a conscience...What next? After watching Nines a little longer, Richard allowed Hank to help him into his own yard and headed back to the house. Hank joined him, walking him to the door with a hand on his hip. “Make sure you keep yourself out of trouble, you hear?”

“Alright!” He scowled as Hank patted his ass.

“Attaboy.” Hank smirked as Richard tried not to see too affected. “Text me if you get bored.” Richard’s cheeks heated at that. He knew what Hank would suggest if he texted. They parted with a brief kiss and Richard returned to the house, quietly determined that he would not text Hank. He sighed as he looked around the empty hall and wondered what he should do with himself. There wasn’t much to do around the house, but at least he was free to make himself a pot of tea, which he did. Sitting at the breakfast bar, he sipped his tea and enjoyed the view of his yard, surprised as he heard the front door open.

“Richie? You in here?” Allen’s voice called. The man himself appeared moments later as Richard hollered back that he was in the kitchen and rose to grab a second cup. There was still plenty of tea in the pot. “Did you go down to the stables thing morning?” His grey eyes were alight with suspicion as he dropped a black bag on the counter and looked him up and down. Richard clicked his tongue and poured a second cup, offering Allen the milk jug as he retook his seat.

“I just went down to see how the horses were doing!” Allen seemed set to say more when Richard held up a hand and waved him off. “Don’t worry, Hank came over and took them out.” That seemed to appease him a little at least as he slipped onto the stool beside him and sipped his tea. It had been a few days. He hadn’t seen Richard since he’d been confined to the house. It had seemed best to stay away since he knew the game Hank was playing. Richard seemed all the better for it, too. From what Hank had told him, it was going well.

“Good! You shouldn’t be down there by yourself.” Richard glared, unwilling to listen to yet another lecture about how he couldn’t go and visit his own stables. “Just bring one of us with you.” Like a child. Allen sighed and shoved his head as if he could tell what he was thinking. “Look, I know you miss the horses, which is why I brought you a few things.” Richard raised a suspicious eyebrow, especially at the way Allen’s lips were twitching. This was definitely a prank, and with Allen’s pranks, it was usually better just to get it over with. With a withering look, Richard waited for him to continue. “Look in the bag.” Whatever this is, it better not jump out and-His thoughts stopped dead as he looked in the bag.

“What the fuck is this?” Allen snickered quietly as Richard pulled out a sleek black box. Looking suspiciously at the way Allen was smirking, he opened it and looked inside. Richard spluttered indignantly as he took in the carefully packed contents. Nestled in the foam was another vibrating plug, shorter and wider than the one he was currently using. Beside that, carefully stored inside a net and clear bag, was a thick glossy rainbow coloured horse's tail that could be attached to the plug. The last thing was a small remote to control the vibrations in the plug.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” Richard snapped the box shut without touching anything.

“Since you miss the stables, I thought I’d bring a little of the stables to you.” Allen chuckled as Richard punched his arm.

“You’re fucked up, you know that? Do you seriously think I’m going to wear this and strut around like some sort of animal?” He was positively indignant, as Allen knew he would be. That didn’t mean the plug wouldn’t get used. With the right motivation, he was quite sure Hank would have his way with him. If Richard didn’t do as he was told, he wouldn’t have much say in the matter either. He’d already come around to the normal plug. There was no reason this wouldn’t be the same. With a little praise and encouragement. That was for Hank to deal with though.

“Well, you could ask Hank to wear it, but I don’t think he’s the tail type.” Oh, and you think I am? Giving him one more swat for good measure, Richard jammed the items back in the bag and shoved it aside. “It’s just a little something to make you feel more at home while you’re away from the stables!”

“Ha...Hilarious.” Allen laughed at the dry response, which make Richard’s lips twitch in turn. “How have they been, anyway?” They’d all seemed well enough when he visited that morning, including Mellow, but he thought it best to ask. Allen had wondered when he’d ask. He was always anxious when he was away for too long.

“Fine-fine. Bramble’s growing like a weed already, and that vet, Luther, came and checked Mellow over. She tore her hoof a little when she threw her shoes, but the farrier came and fixed that, so she just needs to heal up. No riding for at least two weeks, which is unlikely anyway considering...” He waved up and down at Richard, who touched his sling arm with an almost resentful scowl. He’d be out of action for a lot longer than two weeks. He’d be lucky if he was allowed to ride again within two months! The fractures aren’t even that bad! “Don’t worry, I’m still exercising them.” He couldn’t train them as well as Richard, but he could still ride them so they didn’t get too rusty.

“Thanks.” It wasn’t exactly something he needed to thank him for. The horses had to be exercised, and it really couldn’t be helped that Richard was out of action. Allen watched as Richard cradled his sling again, dark eyes looking downcast as he thought about how useless he was and how long he’d be away.

“Hey, come on now! It’s not like you’ll forget how to ride!” It wasn’t his first injury. They both knew he’d be back in the saddle soon enough. Richard gave a small nod of agreement, but it didn’t make him feel any less useless now. Allen stayed awhile, doing his best to cheer him up with talk of other things, like the potential sale of a mare and the possibility of buying a new one. He’d been talking to Hank about fitting those new pens in the barn and turning them into some extra stalls. Hank was more than willing to help if needed. By the time Allen left, Richard was feeling at least a little better, though he still didn’t know what to do with himself. He settled for reading his book until Hank returned for lunch, setting himself up at the breakfast bar and pointedly ignoring the little black bag that was still sitting at his elbow.

Chapter Text

“Have you been internet shopping?” Hank teased as he stepped into the living room, where Richard was once again lounging in his chair with his book. The stools in the kitchen were fine for a while, but they hurt your ass after an hour or so. The chair in which he was currently lounging with his feet reclined was a much better choice. Lowering his book and squinting at the doorway, Richard immediately felt his cheeks heat as he saw the now opened box in Hank’s hand.

“Of course not!” He sounded positively offended. “It’s Allen’s idea of a joke.” Judging by the frown, Hank assumed Richard was less than amused. He chuckled softly as he looked at the colourful tail. It was good quality. Not the sort of money you’d throw away on a joke. At least, it’s not money that he could afford to throw away. Maybe Allen and Richard were just that well off. “Don’t even think about it,” Richard grumbled from his place in his cosy chair as Hank pulled out the bag with the tail furled inside.

“What? This is good quality stuff!” Hank had never seen anything like it. As he pulled the thick tail out of the bag, it actually felt quite weighty, considering it was just a length of artificial hair. Rich, lusciously curled and bouncy rainbow hair. It was fixed to a small attachment that looked like it screwed into the accompanying plug. Richard clicked his tongue, the look on his face saying quite plainly that he would not be letting that thing anywhere near his ass. “I think you’d look pretty with your ass stuffed with a glossy tail,” Hank teased as he swished the creamy strands back and forth. Although it was predominantly blonde, there were thick rainbow sections strewn throughout. It was really rather tasteful.

“If you like it so much, you wear it!” Hank snickered at the thought. It wouldn’t look right on him at all, but Richard? He was pretty sure that little ass could pull anything off. He could just imagine how nicely it would sit over the pert little mound and swing between his thighs as he walked. Fuck, if he added those sock and shirt garters into the mix, it looked even better! Richard’s scowl deepened as he noted the gleam in Hank’s eyes. “Don’t even think about it! I’m not a fucking animal!” Hank raised an eyebrow at that.

“I didn’t say you were.” Richard grumbled quietly and hid himself behind his book in response. That much was true, but then why would he want to put a pony tail in his ass otherwise? “I wouldn’t treat you like one either.” Not unless the situation warranted it. His cock twitched at the thought. It would be an interesting idea to play with. One he might not be averse to trying, though he wouldn’t go too far. He drew the line at cute ears and tails. Going beyond that was a little too outlandish for his simple tastes. “Tell you what, you behave yourself and keep out of trouble, and the tail stays in the box.” Richard scoffed.

“What? Are you going to bend me over and force it in if I don’t?” He swallowed at the look he was getting and stiffened in his seat as Hank stalked over. His cock twitched as Hank leaned over him and gripped his chin, blue eyes filled with heat. Richard felt his cheeks colour, unable to resist dropping his gaze to look at his lips. Hank smirked, slowly teasing his thumb along Richard’s bottom lip.

“Why don’t you try me and find out?” It was a threat and a promise all in one. Richard swallowed, stuck between feeling indignant and lustful. Hank hummed softly as he plucked the black plug from the box and waved it in front of his nose. “I’ll get this cleaned up and ready...just in case.” Richard glared at him. No way was he taking that thing in his ass! The easiest way to avoid that, of course, was to do as Hank said and stay out of trouble. Hank chuckled as he left the room, calling back that he’d make something for lunch soon.

The smell of grilled cheese was soon wafting through from the kitchen, making Richard’s mouth water as he lowered his recliner and padded through to the breakfast bar. Hank grinned over his shoulder, careless of the mess he’d left on the counter as he turned the sandwiches on the grill. Richard, however, was not so amused. Without hesitation, he circled the counter to put away the block of cheese and remaining slices of tomato. He only stopped when a metal spatula appeared right in front of his nose, threatening to bop him.

“You sit, unless you want me to bend you over the counter right now!” Richard pouted as he returned to his stool, silently glaring at the crumbs on his worktop. “Don’t worry, your highness, I always clean up when I’m done.” If it was his own kitchen, that wouldn’t necessarily be the case, but he knew Richard was particular. The moment the sandwiches were browned on the outside, Hank took them off the grill and plated up, leaving them on the bar with Richard while he busied himself with cleaning up. True to his word, the cheese and tomato were packed away, the counters were wiped, and the grill was put in a sink of soapy water to soak off the burned cheese.

“Thank you,” Richard murmured as he pried open his sandwich, much to Hank’s horror. Steam billowed out as the tomato continued bubbling for a few more seconds. Hank wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anyone dissect a grilled cheese before, but rather than eating it like a sandwich, Richard peeled the top barely cheesed layer and started nibbling like a hungry ferret. “What?” He seemed genuinely confused, like no one had ever questioned how he ate before. It was actually sort of cute, the way he was saving the bottom layer with most of the filling for later.

“Nothing,” Hank murmured, leaning his chin on his hand to watch. Richard seemed more wary now he knew he was being watched, which made his nibbling bites even smaller. Cute.

“Do you have to watch me like that?” Hank relented with a chuckle and took a small bite of his own sandwich, gasping and sipping his water at how hot the middle was. Maybe that was why Richard had started eating that way. Opening the sandwich certainly let the heat escape faster, but Hank was content to wait. It wasn’t like he was in a hurry to return to work, though he had plenty to do. The longer lunch took, the longer he could spend with Richard. He knew he was bored; how could he not be? Being holed up inside was the worst. It was a nice sunny day. There was no reason Richard couldn’t go outside, only whenever he went out, he seemed determined to get himself in trouble.

“What will you do this afternoon?” Richard squirmed a little at the question, avoiding Hank’s gaze.

“I might go to the stables...Allen’s there.” That sounded very much like an excuse, but Hank let it slide. If Allen was there, he’d be fine, and if he wasn’t fine, Hank would hear about it. He’d hear about it, and Richard would pay the price. Hank smirked as he hid himself behind his glass, sipping slowly as Richard munched his way through the bottom layer of his sandwich. Fuck, he really is like a ferret. Maybe Allen chose the wrong tail. Still holding the toast to his lips, nibbling the edge of a piece of tomato, Richard blinked at him, confused about why he was being watched so intently.

“Just see that you stay out of trouble.” Richard scowled at that, but didn’t argue. Once they finished, Hank insisted on washing up, and then he was off. Richard followed him to the door and watched until he’d hopped the fence and set off with Connor running circles around him. They headed for the rear fields this time, on the opposite side of the house. True to his word, Richard slipped into his boots and set off towards the stables, keeping a quiet eye out for Allen. He was nowhere in sight. Richard frowned a little as he wandered around the yard. His car was still there.

“Al?” His call, both in the barn and the stables, went unanswered. Richard hummed as he looked around to see if there were any clues as to where he may have gone. A few of the stalls had been mucked out, but if he was still mucking out, he’d be able to hear the barrow. He found the barrow set by the open door of an empty stall. It seemed he’d taken a break. But if he didn’t go into town, I would have seen him at the house...A set of riding gear was gone. Ah. He was exercising one of the horses. That left Richard at a loose end. He’d come looking to see if he could help, but without Allen there to give him instructions, he was left to his own devices.

Mucking out alone was out of the question. He’d need both hands to use the pitchfork. The tool was too long and heavy to use with just one hand. I can probably clean the water bowls though. Those just needed a wipe around with a cloth and a good rinse. They were like self-contained little sinks, so he wouldn’t need to do anything strenuous. With that in mind, he grabbed a cloth and got started. Allen had already finished the ones in the clean stalls, so Richard did the rest. It was a pretty easy job, even with one hand, and barely took thirty minutes. Once again finding himself at a loose end, Richard looked at the hay racks.

Some of them were looking pretty empty. Surely he could carry some hay across. Not by hand, of course. That would be too heavy, but if he could get the barrow over to the barn, he could easily pull a bale off the stack. That wouldn’t be too strenuous, right? If it was too hard, he could always stop. With that in mind, Richard tackled the barrow. It was made to be pushed with two hands, but if he went slowly, he could drag it backwards with one. It was a little awkward, but hardly difficult. He was feeling pretty accomplished by the time he reached the barn. With a satisfied sigh, he looked at the stacks of bales. All he had to do was pull one down so it fell into the barrow. Easy!

They were stacked taller than he was, but if he could find a step, that wouldn’t be a problem. Leaving the barrow right next to the towering stack, Richard wandered around the barn looking for a stool. There wasn’t a stool, but he did find a small stepladder, which was easy enough to drag over by himself. Opening it was a little fiddly, but once he kicked it open and shuffled it into place, it seemed sturdy enough to hold his weight without falling. Scooting it beside the stack, Richard carefully climbed up the first four rungs and leaned over to grab the blue string on the closest bale. It was a little awkward, pulling and keeping balance, but the bale gradually shuffled closer to the edge. That’s it...Just a little more...

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Richard’s head whipped round just as the bale toppled, wobbling precariously with the surprise. Allen looked thoroughly unimpressed as he rested his hands on his hips, standing in the doorway until Richard clicked his tongue and caught himself. “I thought I told you not to overdo it!” Richard really could have rolled his eyes. If not for the interruption, he probably wouldn’t even have wobbled!

“I’m not overdoing it!”

“What are you even doing here?” Richard thought it was pretty obvious as he waved at the fallen bale, which had come a little loose in the fall. The large rectangle was broken and uneven, with smaller square sections sticking out, ready to be pulled loose.

“I was going to refill the hay racks.” Dark eyes sharpened as Allen gave him a look. “Oh, don’t look at me like that! It’s not even that hard!” Sure, he had to drag the barrow backwards and struggle with the stepladder, and he had to balance carefully while pulling the hay down, but it wasn’t that hard! And it wasn’t dangerous! Seeing the lack of comprehension on Richard’s face, Allen sighed and lifted him down, much to Richard’s chagrin.

“It’s not that I think you’re incapable or incompetent, that’s not why I don’t want you in here.” It sure seemed that way. The look on Richard’s face told him so. Heaving a sigh, Allen waved at the metal barrow. “What would you have done if you’d fallen and hit your arm?” That was ridiculous! It wasn’t even likely to happen! “It could happen! You could have fallen off the ladder, or been pulled down by the bale, or a bale might have fallen on you.” That last one wasn’t likely at all! Richard was really beginning to think that Allen was looking for problems on purpose.

“It’s only one arm! I can still do stuff!”

“I’m not saying you can’t, but you need to be more mindful! If your arm gets hurt again, it’ll take even longer to heal!” Richard pouted at that. They were only minor fractures, and it wasn’t even likely he’d fall! “Just don’t...do anything too strenuous.” It wasn’t even that strenuous! Allen sighed as he took the barrow and walked it to the door. “And by strenuous I mean anything!” Richard was truly indignant as he hurried to catch up. Don’t do anything? Anything at all? “I don’t want to see you lifting a finger unless you have to.”

“Oh, come on! It wasn’t even that bad!”

“We’ll see if Hank thinks it wasn’t that bad.” You wouldn’t! The look on Allen’s face told him he definitely would. They returned to the stables so that Allen could continue his work with the stalls, and since they had the hay, he grudgingly let Richard go around and refill some of the hay racks. Better that he was doing something in his sight than wandering off alone and getting himself in trouble. Once the stalls were done, Allen let Richard walk with him to the fields, but, as with Hank that morning, he wasn’t allowed to lead any of the horses back. Not even Bramble, who almost skipped along at Allen’s side, hopping and butting his ribs.

“Richie!” Hank’s tone sounded far too accusing as they approached the stables, leading to Richard giving Allen a resentful look. “What did I say about keeping out of trouble?” Despite his words, he didn't seem angry. In fact, he looked downright pleased with himself. Allen smirked as he left Richard and Hank in the yard to lead Bramble and his mother back to their stall. Richard huffed, unimpressed as he stopped in front of Hank.

“I didn’t even do anything!”

“Pulling down a bale on a rickety old stepladder? What if it fell on your head? What if it pulled you down with it?” Getting a sense of déjà vu, Richard pouted. Why do they both think I’m completely incompetent? He tried to ignore the little voice in his head that suggested he might be incompetent, and that’s why they kept such a close eye on him. “Don’t look at me like that. We’re just trying to make sure you heal up properly before you do yourself a mischief.” What makes you think I’d do myself a mischief? That thought was interrupted by the brush of rough whiskers on his lips and large hands settling on his waist.

“Fuck!” They parted as his sling arm was jostled between them, sending pain shooting through his elbow. “If I’m not careful, you’ll do me a mischief!” Richard added as he cradled his sore arm, waving it off as Hank gave him a suitably remorseful look. “Don’t worry, it’s just a twinge.” Annoying as they were, they were a constant hazard, and one he’d come to expect over the past few days. He couldn’t even lie in bed without it hurting sometimes. “Come on, let’s get dinner.” That was surely why Hank had turned up to meet him, and it proved true as he carefully looped an arm around his waist and led him back towards the house.

“You realise you owe me a forfeit, right?” Hank teased in a low grumble as he leaned down right by his ear. Richard glared, almost daring him to say more. I’m not wearing that fucking tail! Not a chance in hell!

Chapter Text

Richard groaned as he opened his eyes and sat up. His shoulder ached where he’d rolled over in the night. Luckily, he’d only half rolled onto it, but the change in position had made it stiff and sore as he eased his arm against his chest. As if wired to pick up his distress, Hank’s blue eyes fluttered opened, and he pushed himself up on one arm. Since they were both awake and Richard was already in pain, Hank sat up and took his hand and elbow to being his morning exercises. They were still painful, making him hiss and grit his teeth as Hank led his arm in small circles and bent and stretched the joint.

“How is it feeling? Do you need anything?” Richard knew what he meant. He was asking if he needed any pain relief. Shaking his head, Richard returned his arm to the sling and cradled it against his chest. He’d managed without more than a little ibuprofen so far, and the swelling wasn’t that bad anymore. Hank left him to get breakfast ready, giving him time to stew over the night before. Despite telling him he owed him a forfeit, Hank hadn’t collected. His eyes had suggested he might more than once throughout the evening, but after dinner and a short break for Hank to walk Connor and Sumo, he hadn’t tried anything.

They’d passed a few hours reading books and watching television, showered with some difficulty, and gone to bed. Even in bed, Hank had made no move to force him into that ridiculous tail. Good! Maybe he’d actually respect his opinion this time. He did his best to ignore the little voice in the back of his head that reminded him how much he’d enjoyed it the last time Hank had suggested they try something new. Although he hadn’t enjoyed being tied to the bed, unable to leave, wearing the plug had been a curious experience.

“Seems like a nice day,” Hank said as he returned with a tray of tea and toast. Richard hummed in agreement as he looked out the window. Although there were clouds on the horizon, it was still pretty blue where they were. Hank watched as Richard took some toast and started nibbling at the marmite triangle with his usual ferrety bites. He seemed a little tired, hair still mussed from sleep, pyjamas crumpled from turning in his sleep. That was unusual, considering his injury. For the past week, he’d been stuck on his back, unable to turn. It seemed the pain was easing off a little if he could turn over without waking up. “A nice day to collect what I’m owed.” Richard almost choked on his tea at that, dark eyes thinning as he waited.

“Collect what?” They both knew what. Hack chuckled softly as he joined him on the bed.

“You know.” Richard glared at that. He did know, but he didn’t think it was entirely fair. He also didn’t have to go along with it. Hank gave him a softer look that assured him he knew both of these things, but he was still going to push him until he hit his limit. Richard looked away, trying to shake off the way Hank seemed to stare right inside his head. He seemed to understand things he didn’t even acknowledge about himself. Dark eyes fluttered as a worn hand stroked through his hair with the pretence of tidying it. “Finish your breakfast while I pick out some clothes for you to wear.”

Richard did as he was told, quietly enjoying the combination of the bitter spread and tea. He couldn’t help being curious as his dark eyes followed Hank to the closet, surprised as he took out one of his plain white shirts. Are we going somewhere? He rarely wore those unless he had a business meeting or some sort of event. Hank turned the plain-looking shirt this way and that before holding it up for inspection.

“Are you...attached to this one?” Richard frowned and tilted his head. “I mean, is it expensive or important?” Richard shook his head. It was just a shirt. The more expensive ones were zipped in the suit bags with their accompanying suits. The shirt Hank had picked out was just a simple office shirt with buttoned cuffs. Hank seemed pleased as he set it on the bed and moved to rummage through the drawers. Richard raised an eyebrow as he triumphantly plucked out a set of shirt and sock garters.

“Are we...going somewhere?” Richard was utterly perplexed as Hank chuckled to himself and added a pair of socks into the mix. The response very much suggested they were going somewhere, but perhaps not a place that Richard might think of. Richard was deeply suspicious as Hank dropped a set of jeans on the bed. “You forgot boxers.” Hank smirked. He did not forget. Richard felt his cheeks heat.

“Nu-uh-uh. Forfeit, remember?” If he’d had both arms, Richard would have folded them and pouted in protest. Instead, he took another sip of tea and pointedly looked anywhere but at Hank. Once he finished his breakfast, it was time to dress for the day. A task he was not looking forward to. He could hear the amusement in Hank’s voice as he approached and asked for his feet. Richard held them out one at a time and pretended he wasn’t paying attention as Hank gently slipped his socks on. His large fingers were surprisingly nimble as he clipped the sock garters around his calves and strapped his socks in place.

Richard stiffened a little as Hank took his good arm and led him to his feet. He couldn’t help the flush in his cheeks as he pushed his pyjama bottoms and boxers down. The light breeze from the window made his cock twitch, and it didn’t help that those creeping hands slipped over his hips to caress his bare ass. Hank let out a satisfied hum at the feel of his soft skin. It was a shame he had to restrain himself. The risk of hurting Richard’s arm was too high. He smirked as he unbuttoned the pyjama shirt, enjoying the little shivers that ran through him and how his nipples pebbled. It was almost a shame that he was putting a fresh shirt on, but it would be worth it once the garters were in place.

“What exactly is all this for?” Waiting patiently as Hank buttoned his shirt, Richard couldn’t quite figure it out. Why dress him up in all this if he wasn’t going to be wearing a suit? Hank took a little extra time fitting the shirt garters, pinging each strap to make sure they was good and tight. That was his excuse, anyway. In reality, he was enjoying the little gasps and whines that fled Richard’s lips, and the way the sting made his cock twitch.

“You really don’t know?” Richard stumbled a little as Hank hurried him over to the full-length mirror and stood him in front of it. He didn’t see anything particularly special. It just looked like he was part way through getting dressed, with no pants. It seemed Hank followed his line of thought as a large hand reached around to cup and fondle him, dragging him back until his bare ass met denim. “Fuck, you’re a treat for the eyes with all these straps.” Richard moaned as Hank squeezed and turned his body so that his ass faced the mirror. “Especially here.” A large hand patted his ass, warming the pale flesh and making it jiggle. Richard didn’t know what to say to such an odd compliment, which made Hank chuckle and give his balls a parting squeeze. “As for the plan, you’ll have to be a good boy and see.”

“Why do I get the feeling I’m going to regret this?” Hank chuckled softly as he grabbed Richard’s jeans and held them ready.

“You won’t, and even if you do, at least you tried it out and had fun.” Fun was very much a relative term. One that Richard didn’t put much stock in. What exactly were they going to be trying? Another game like before? If that was the case, why were they going outside? He remained reluctant as he stepped into his jeans, which were less comfortable without pants. There was a reason he didn’t go commando. Seeing his discomfort, Hank smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you out of those soon enough.” Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. He might have said as much if Hank hadn’t chosen that moment to usher him out of the bedroom.

“Where are we going?” Hank wouldn’t give him a definitive answer as he walked him to the back door and set out a set of shoes. Smart shoes. Not his good pair. The lightly worn black pair he used for less important meetings. Raising an eyebrow, Richard paused and looked up at Hank.

“You’ll need shoes.” He’d need shoes, but the jeans were temporary? That was less than reassuring. Still, he was curious enough to go along with it for now. When they first stepped outside, he thought Hank might lead him to the fence and take him out to the fields, but to his surprise, he led him around the house to the stables instead. As they entered the yard, Hank continued on to the right, straight for the old barn. “Think you can climb?” What happened to yelling at him for being reckless? “I’ll be right behind you, don’t worry.” Oh, well, that makes things much better...

“Why are we going up there?” As far as he knew, it was just an old storage space that Hank and Allen had been sorting out. Was that it? He needed help to decide what to do with the stuff up there? If that was the case, why had he dressed him up?

“You’ll see. Come on now.” Richard’s stomach churned anxiously as he approached the ladder. “Attaboy.” He remained suspicious as he climbed the first rung, and Hank’s smirk didn’t make him feel any better as he pressed up behind. It didn’t seem entirely wise for him to be climbing a ladder with only one arm, but he felt safe and secure with Hank behind him. They were so close that he could feel Hank’s belly against his back, his strong thighs ready to catch him if he fell. The climb was obviously a little slower than usual, and Hank’s hand on his hip supported him each time he released the rung to climb higher. Getting on to the platform was actually the hardest part because he couldn’t pull himself up anymore. He ended up crawling unceremoniously on his hand and knees, shuffling clear so Hank could climb up behind him. “Up we go.” Hank’s hand on his good arm hauled him upright and patted him on the shoulder, looking around with a certain amount of pride.

“What the fuck?” Richard had no other words as he looked around, jaw slack in a cross between horror and confusion. It looked like an odd cross between a farm and a torture chamber. There was a lot of wooden equipment, and some metal, all carefully packed away and fastened to the walls unless it was fixed in place, but he had no idea what it was all for. There were even two relatively small stalls, which would be no good for farm animals. How would farm animals even climb up to the loft anyway?

“What do you think?” Hank seemed somewhat anxious as he asked the question. Richard wasn’t sure how to answer as he walked over to the stalls for a closer look. He could tell Hank and Allen had been hard at work. The straw on the floor was fresh, and the wood had recently been sanded and varnished. It was dry, but that freshly painted smell still lingered in the air.

“What is all this?” Walking into one of the stalls, Richard frowned. There was a wooden gate that would swing shut behind and enough space to walk five paces before meeting a padded leather beam that reached his hips so precisely that it might have been made for him. Beyond that was a curious wooden board with two small holes and one large, which seemed to open on a hinge. The larger hole was lined with the same padding as the beam, which made Richard curious as he rested his hand on the soft leather.

“I didn’t know either when I first saw it. I needed Allen to clue me in.” The news that Allen was involved set off alarm bells. If Allen knew what it was, then it likely had some nefarious purpose. “Here, I’ll show you.” Ducking under the beam, Hank opened the hinged plank and waved him closer. “Bend over with your head here, and your good arm here.” Despite the compromising position that would leave him in, Richard trusted Hank to not take advantage as he did as asked. The fit was perfect. There was exactly the right space for him to rest his hips comfortably on the leather beam and put his neck on the leather rest. His heart sped up as the wood snapped shut over his head with a dull clack, trapping him in place. He frowned a little as his forehead came to rest on another soft leather cushion, effectively holding his head up for him. It was strangely comfortable.

“It’s for...people?” Richard frowned, unable to see Hank over the wooden beam as he turned his head.

“You sound confused.” He was confused. Why would there be a stall like this in the loft? The use dawned on him as a large hand trailed down his back and patted his ass. A grunt slipped out as he tried to lift his head, but the stockade had now been locked in place. There was a playful chuckle as Hank ducked to the other side and pressed up behind, gripping his hips and nudging his ass. “You get it now?” Richard licked his lips nervously as he tried to free his hand. “Someone had quite the little setup in here...”

“For...sex?” He was more than a little relieved as the stockade clicked open and Hank lifted it off. Richard pushed himself up quickly, trying not to seem too nervous as he looked around.

“Yeah...Have to say, that old man was the last person I’d expect to have a setup like this. Makes me wonder if some of those farmhands got a little too comfortable around here.” Richard shrugged. He didn’t know much about the previous owner besides that he was old, retired, and moved into assisted living. Selling the farm had gone to pay for that. “Come on, there’s more to see.” Hank certainly seemed keen as he led the way out of the first stall. There were chains and straps across the walls at various heights for various suspensions and positions, and it looked like they could be unhooked and moved around as needed.

“What’s this?” Richard asked as they reached the first bulky item. It was a lot like the thing in the stalls, only freestanding with cuffs for ankles at the bottom. Hank unlatched and opened it to show him, but didn’t make him get in this time.

“A stockade. Basically, the same as the one in the stall, but without the cosy bar. Makes me think the stall was used mostly for sleeping.” Sleeping? They left people in there to sleep on their feet like animals? “Hey, some people like it,” Hank excused with a shrug as they continued. Richard couldn’t say he understood it, but remembering the soft padded leather made him think that perhaps it wasn’t too uncomfortable. The cushion would even save their neck and stop the blood from rushing to their head.

“And this?” It was a huge wooden board with slots that could be moved up and down. The top half looked like the other stockages, but there were two more large holes lower down.

“Allen called it a suspension stockade...You sit in it with your legs through these holes.” Richard nodded, unsure why he was asking. It was surreal this was happening at all. Everything up here seemed strange and outlandish to him. Along the wall was a large cross that was clearly set up to cuff someone in an X shape. Hank called it a St Andrew’s Cross. There was something that Richard thought looked a lot like the horse boxes he used to see in gym class, which made Hank laugh and say he wasn’t far off. The difference was that this horse box had padded knee rests on either side, which would bring you to the right height to be ploughed into next week. Moving on, there was another stockade on the floor, forcing one to kneel with their legs spread and wrists locked between. It looked quite uncomfortable. Beside that was a tall chair with cuffed leg rests, spread wide for the seated party to be held open and fucked.

“What the fuck is this?” Richard was getting more and more worried as they moved on to the metal contraptions. These had slightly less padding, and some were electrical. He didn’t even think the barn was wired for electricity. There was a metal frame where one would kneel, locked in place, and an attachment of choice could be fitted to the electric arm at the back, which was clearly meant to fuck the victim. He also found a freestanding version of this sex machine that could be used in tandem with the other stockades. The last was a curious black box containing a long suction cup that led into an empty jar. “Isn’t this that a milking thing for cows?”

“Similar, but this is for people...Men specifically. The one for women has two and they’re smaller.” Richard didn’t dare ask what it was for. His cock twitched at the mere sight of the thing. Turning away, Richard moved to the wall instead, thinking it might be safer there. He almost wished he hadn’t as he met a row of whips and riding crops. It certainly wasn’t his thing. Well, maybe the riding crop. He’d felt that before. There was also a bunch of leather harnesses that almost looked like reins, only a different shape than the ones he fitted to the horses. “Don’t worry, they’re all new...Allen got a little carried away.” Richard balked as Hank took down a head harness and tossed it over. “Here, I think this would suit you.”

“Are you serious?” There were ears on it! Leather ears! And blinkers! It certainly looked small enough to fit over his head. Hearing a chuckle, Richard turned his head, stopping dead as a swish sounded and the end of a riding crop teased his chin. He raised his head as Hank nudged, meeting his heated gaze with flushed cheeks.

“What’s the matter, Richie? Don’t think you’d be a good pony?” Richard hated that Hank’s gravelled tone actually sent a jolt to his cock as he swatted the crop away. Hank guffawed, putting the crop aside and continuing his own explorations. There was a sturdy beam fitted overhead with leather attachments for swings or suspension ropes to be tied on. The idea of sitting Richard in one of those leather swings and pounding him in midair was pretty damned erotic. He could just imagine what those little squeals would sound like as they echoed around the barn.

“As if I’d be the pony!” Richard grumbled, though he sounded less than convincing as he stood eyeing the leather reins.

“How could you not? You’ve worked with them for so long, I’m pretty sure you’d be convincing.” Richard wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not as he returned the reins to the wall and took in the other attachments. There was another head harness that looked like a torture device meant to hold the mouth open with metal prongs, which Hank called a spider gag. Another harness had a ball attached, and there was an array of bits for the reins. There was also a tray of strange silicone rings, which Hank explained went over your cock and balls. Some of them even vibrated. In a small box was a set of thin metal rods that made Richard wince as Hank explained where they went. Absolutely fucking not! “I wasn’t sure what to do with this place when I first found it. I expected Allen to help dismantle and toss everything, but he seemed to think we might find a better use for it...” Richard didn’t like where this was going.

“Don’t even think about it!” His cheeks turned red at the very thought of it. Hank smirked as he stepped closer and took his chin, staring into his eyes. Richard wavered at the heat he found there, looking away evasively.

“Unfortunately for you, you owe me a forfeit.” A choked sound stuck in Richard’s throat at that, dark eyes darting about warily, wondering which of these outlandish devices he was going to be forced into. An arm hooked around him, and a hand stroked down his back before squeezing his ass. “And I intend to make the most of it...” What the fuck did that mean? Richard pushed back a little, frowning up at him warily. “Trust me.” Trust was hard earned, though he had to admit, Hank had earned a fair bit. Large hands settled on his hips, stroking gentle circles but going no further. Richard licked his lips nervously, heart fluttering anxiously. He’d never been one for things like this. This was Allen’s area of expertise.

Testing the waters, Hank leaned closer, chasing his lips. Richard let out a steady breath and gripped Hank’s shoulder with his good hand, slowly pulling him closer. Taking that as permission, Hank snaked his arms around him and tangled a hand in his hair, enjoying the little hums that fled his lips between kisses. Richard didn’t even notice he was being backed up until his ass met the wooden edge of the horse box. Breaking away from his lips, Hank kissed his way down Richard’s neck to nip and tease his throat.

“You ready to be good for me, honey?” Still unsure, Richard tensed as Hank’s hands found the button of his jeans. “Don’t worry, just something small to start with.” That was less than reassuring, considering all the outlandish objects that surrounded them. Whiskers brushed his neck again, prompting Richard to tip his head back with a small whine. It tickled, but in a good way. Tingles spread across his sensitive skin, prompting him to tighten his grip pull Hank closer. Taking that as a positive sign, Hank popped the button on Richard’s jeans and pushed them down. They both moaned as Hank’s rough hands stroked and squeezed his ass, barely drawing back enough for Hank to guide him out of his shoes.

Once his feet were free, Hank left him only long enough to retrieve his shoes. Richard licked his lips nervously as he slipped his feet back into them, very conscious of the fact that his ass and cock were now on full display for anyone who came up to the loft. Not that he had much to worry about in that regard. He was pretty sure Allen hadn’t arrived yet, and only he and Hank lived in the area. Hank soon returned to his lips, encouraging his good hand back to his shoulder and guiding him with a hand on his hip. Richard didn’t know where they were going as Hank backed him up across the room, not until they passed through a familiar doorway.

“It’s alright, honey...You can just rest here while I’m out in the fields.” Richard would have refused, but he did owe Hank a forfeit, unfair as that was. “Come on now, Richie. Turn around.” Richard grudgingly followed the hand on his hip as Hank turned his body to face the waist high leather beam, which really did fit perfectly against his hips. A guiding hand on his back encouraged him down until his head rested on the leather cushion and his free hand was resting inside the loop. “Attaboy.” Richard swallowed as the wooden beam came down over his head, locking him in place. The slide of a bolt told him Hank had locked it.

“H-hey! What are you doing?” A hand landed on his ass and pried his cheeks apart, making room for Hank’s fingers to circle his right ring. Hank chuckled softly as he teased the tight hole, rubbing circles with his thumb as Richard squirmed. Fuck, he looked good. It’s a shame he didn’t know how good. The shirt was taut all the way down to his curved ass, and the way all those straps hugged his thighs and calves was sinful. He couldn’t resist it as he pinged one of the straps, enjoying the surprised yelp that fled Richard’s lips. “Henry!” Hank chuckled at the disgruntled tone as he circled the offended area.

“Relax! I’m just getting you ready.” Richard stiffened at that. What did he mean by getting him ready? Ready for what? The sound of a popping cap reached his ear, followed by the wet sound of a tube being squeezed. “You didn’t think I’d just leave you up here like this with nothing to do?” Wasn’t that what he was doing? Richard squirmed as Hank’s hand returned to pry him open, only this time a cold, wet finger teased his ring and quickly sank in to the knuckle. The feeling made his cock twitch, a slow breath slipping out as his forehead rested on the padded cushion. “Fuck, that’s it. Good boy.” The finger plunged in again, encouraging Richard to buck his hips to meet it.

“H-Henry...” This didn’t seem fair. With his neck and arm restrained, he couldn’t rock back as far as he’d like, and he was pretty sure Hank wasn’t going to finish whatever he was starting. Not for a few hours, anyway. He outright moaned as the second finger pushed in. Tingles ran down his spine as a rough hand patted his ass.

“Good boy, Richie. Open your legs a bit more. That’s it.” Richard did as he was told, lifting his ass as high as he could. Hank’s fingers brought the same full feeling as usual, the stretch that made him feel like it was too much and not enough all at once. His cock jerked with each thrust, and it only got worse as Hank’s clothed body pressed up behind. The rough denim rubbing his thighs made his hair stand on end. Hank could feel him relaxing into it. The ring of muscle was getting looser around his fingers, the perfect width to push it in. “Attaboy.” Hank smirked as he withdrew his fingers and held the lubed plug ready.

He timed it perfectly. A clean change over. Richard barely noticed as the tip of the plug stretched his rim, but he did notice as it sank in place. His hole closed around it, gripping it in place. Smaller, harder, and less filling than Hank’s fingers. It also didn’t take him long to feel the soft tickle of synthetic hair on his thighs as he closed his legs. Hank smirked, biting his lip as he pulled out his phone to enjoy the show as Richard stepped from foot to foot, shaking his ass as if trying to get loose. It was a tantalising sight, which Hank enjoyed until he heard a pained hiss. His hand was there in an instant, holding Richard’s hip steady to stop him from moving.

“Easy there, easy.” With a click of his tongue, Richard kicked back and caught Hank’s shin with a hint of satisfaction. He’d give him easy! A sharp tap on his ass made him yelp and a firm hand caught his calf, rough fingers circling. “Stop it, you’ll hurt yourself.” Richard trembled as Hank nudged the plug in his ass, teasing it in circles to calm him.

“I’m not a fucking animal!”

“Well, thank fuck for that! I wouldn’t fuck you if you were.” Richard growled, turning his head this way and that in a futile effort to see Hank. Unfortunately, the wooden stockade was too high and wide to see around. All he could see was the wood of the stall and the straw on the floor. He balked at the sound of Hank’s phone snapping pictures and gritted his teeth indignantly at the series of rough pats on his ass. The type he used when patting Connor’s flank. “Just give it a chance. I’m pretty sure you’ll like it by the end of the day.” Richard would have bitten out a retort at that point, only a sudden vibration rumble in his passage, making him squirm. He’d ramped it up to level five, and, unlike the other plug, this one hit right on the spot.

“A-ah-fuck, you-fucking-” He broke off with a grunt as Hank lowered the sensitivity to level one and gave his ass a parting pat.

“Attaboy.” Dull steps signalled his departure, and Richard remained helplessly trapped in place, the plug still buzzing, as Hank climbed down the ladder. Richard licked his lips and squirmed, jaw tightening as the silken strands brushed his thighs again. He tried not to think about how he must look from behind with that glossy tail hanging from his ass, swishing back and forth, curls bobbing and bouncing. It was fucking demeaning! Another strong buzz had him biting his lip, cock twitching in spite of himself. Oh-fuck! The setting changed again. A low, gentle rumble that slowly climbed in intensity until that little knot of pleasure tightened before dropping off to nothing. Richard gasped and squirmed, feeling the tail brush his thighs softly. No way am I enjoying this! No fucking way! He remained resolute even after the heavy barn doors swung shut.

Chapter Text

Richard moaned softly, doing his best to keep his voice down as the vibrations reached a familiar crescendo and dropped to nothing again. His cock was fully hard now, droplets beading at the tip and falling, leaving pearly trails on his thighs or dripping to be lost in the straw below. His balls twitched, cock aching as the vibrations started climbing again. He was desperate for some sort of stimulation, rocking his hips in a futile effort to get some sort of stimulation. Every time he felt like he was ready to come, the vibrations dropped off to nothing, leaving him frustrated and wanting. Moving from foot to foot did little to help, though the plug in his passage seemed to twist and turn with the motion. Moving also swished the tickly strands of the tail across his thighs.

Another moan of frustration slipped out, making him curse under his breath as he listened for activity outside. Hank had been sensible enough to lock the barn, which at least muffled some of the noise, but if Allen heard and came to investigate, he’d never live it down. He couldn’t even imagine the shame of having Allen see him like this. The colourful tail swishing across his ass and thighs, bent over in a stockade waiting to be used, rigid cock bouncing against his pelvis as he rocked his hips. His cheeks flushed pink at the thought, imagining the months of teasing afterwards. Luckily, he hadn’t even heard his car arrive. If he couldn’t hear Allen, then it stood to reason that Allen couldn’t hear him, either.

The disadvantage of the barn being locked was that the heat had no way of escaping. There wasn’t a lick of breeze to be had. It was hot and stuffy, getting worse by the minute. Richard wasn’t sure if the temperature was actually rising or if it was the rush of his own blood making it worse, but his skin was soon sweaty, making the shirt cling to his back. Even his injured arm felt clammy in its blue sling. His hair was starting to stick to his forehead, scalp itching uncomfortably. Even his breath felt hotter than usual as he gasped and panted.

Alongside the heat and turbulent pleasure came a new, unpleasant sensation. Hank hadn’t told him exactly how long he’d be gone, and Richard had no way of knowing how long it had been, so it was quite alarming when he started to feel a familiar fullness in his bladder. He cursed internally, doing his best to ignore it. There was no way he was going to pee on the floor like a fucking animal! A little voice in the back of his mind wondered if perhaps that’s why the straw had been strewn across the floor in the first place. Whether that was the intention or not, Richard was not going to do it.

He backed up as far as he could, taking as much pressure off his pelvis as possible. Maybe if he didn’t press it, he’d be able to hold out for Hank. What if I can’t hold out? Humiliation made his insides squirm. What would Hank say if he returned to find him standing in a puddle of his own piss, legs and socks stained and sticky? He absolutely would not consider it! Holding back with fresh determination, he whined in the back of his throat. Surely it had been long enough by now. Surely Hank was on his way back at this very moment.

The pinch in his bladder slowly increased to a dull ache, fuelled in part by the vibrations in his ass. Every time his balls and cock twitched, he had to clench and hold against the need to come. If he came, his cock would soften, and the moment his cock softened, he knew he’d burst. Unfortunately, clenching meant his ass gripped the vibrating plug even tighter, making the feeling worse. He whined softly. The sound was far closer to a sob than he’d like to admit. Fuck, where is he? It felt like a fucking age by the time he heard the barn door swing open. How he’d held on this long, he didn’t know, but the need to pee was almost overpowering at this point. He was so close he wasn’t sure he could hold off long enough to climb down and get across the yard.

“H-en-o-off! Off-off-off!” Richard didn’t even give Hank time to get all the way up the ladder before he was part croaking, part sobbing for him to help. The sound of him climbing the ladder was like music to his ears. Tears pricked his eyes, another desperate whine slipping out as he heard Hank stand up and hurry over. “O-off! Get it off!”

“Christ, hold on Richie. You alright? What happened?” Thinking he’d somehow hurt himself, the vibrations stopped immediately and Hank rushed into the stall to unlock the stockade. Richard whimpered as the wooden restraint was finally lifted, but was almost too scared to stand upright. The ache in his bladder was the worst it had ever been. Holding back almost hurt at this point. He was desperate to go.

“I-I need the bathroom.” It came out in such a feeble voice, and so childlike that Hank actually stalled. Richard couldn’t bring himself to look at him. He felt small and ashamed for needing to say it at all.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I should have thought of that...Not that it would be a big deal with the straw, but-”

“I’m not a fucking animal!” Richard griped, swiping his eyes and looking around for his jeans. Hank winced a little at that. He could see Richard was embarrassed and extremely stressed. So stressed that he didn’t notice his jeans a few feet across the loft. Hank hurried over instead, being a little more sensitive as he returned to help him dress.

“I know you’re not.”

“Fuck, I-I don’t know if I can make it back to the house!” He felt like he was about to  burst in more ways than one as the plug moved in his ass and his jeans were pulled over his stomach. He didn’t dare let Hank button them because of the added pressure that would cause, so he settled for the zipper and hoped for the best.

“I can bring you a bucket if you-” Hank fell silent as a fist struck his upper arm, feeling sympathetic as he noticed the unshed tears in Richard’s glistening eyes. “Alright, come on then, honey. I’ll help you down to the house.” Richard tightened his jaw and nodded almost resentfully. If he hadn’t left him locked in that thing for god knows how long, it wouldn’t be a problem. He felt like a fucking child as he tried to get his footing with only one hand. Hank had climbed down behind him again, guiding him down the rungs the way he had before.

Once they hit the ground, he didn’t even wait. Richard tore through the barn and across the yard, ignoring Hank’s yells to be careful. His front door was unlocked, and he threw it open so hard it bounced against the panelled wall as he ran down the hall. There was no time to climb the stairs to get to his own bathroom, so he ducked into the toilet under the stairs, barely remembering to lock the door before lifting the spotless toilet seat. Taking his cock out, he whined at how tender it felt. Still hard, it was impossible for him to release his bladder. Fuck! It was painful, being so desperate to pee but unable to do so.

There was only one thing he could think to do, besides trying to force it out. He trembled as his jeans fell to his knees, releasing the bouncy tail from its denim prison to swish across his thighs. Gripping his cock, he leaned a hand on the cistern and pumped. He’d been on edge for hours. It shouldn’t take too long to finish. Fuck, he couldn’t believe he was doing this. He was bent over in the downstairs toilet, gripping his cock with that fucking tail in his ass! A small sob slipped out as his bladder pinched, reminding him how badly he needed to go.

“Richie? Are you alright?” Shit, Hank had arrived. Thuds sounded overheard as he headed up to the bedroom, probably thinking he’d gone up there. Richard moaned softly, gritting his teeth and glaring at his cock. It was his fault he was in this mess! “Richie? Where are you?” He sounded alarmed as he returned to the hall above his head, having realised he wasn’t in the upstairs bathroom. Pushing himself up a little, Richard reached back to tug and tease the tail, imagining it was Hank doing the pulling.

“F-fuck!” Steps sounded in the hall outside, and there was a knock on the door.

“Richie? Are you in there?” Richard felt his cheeks flush. What the fuck was he going to say? That he was having problems with his bladder?

“U-uhn-I-I’m fine!” Fuck, his voice sounded good. “I-I’ll be out soon.”

“Alright, I’ll start lunch.” Richard barely managed a hum in response and he was coming, choking on a moan, but unable to stop it from slipping out. Luckily, Hank was sensitive enough not to tease him about it. Richard milked himself with a low moan, cursing under his breath as he watched himself spill into the toilet. He’d never been so happy to get rid of an erection. Relief swept through him as his cock started to soften and he could finally pee. It wasn’t as easy as usual. The orgasm was making his insides twitch and shudder, which meant a lot of stopping and starting, and pushing on his part, but his bladder finally felt empty.

He  didn’t go to the kitchen straight away. Instead, he went up to the bedroom to change into something more comfortable and rinse off the filth of the barn. His skin was still sweaty and sticky from the heat, and his garters were starting to chafe. Doing the best he could with one hand, he pulled off the straps, slipped out of his shirt, and hosed himself down with the shower head. It would be better with help, but he was in no mood to call Hank. Now that he’d managed to get back and clean up, he was fucking furious.

What was he thinking, leaving him like that? It was lunchtime, which meant he’d been trapped up there for at least four hours! Anything could have happened! Someone could have stopped by! Allen could have gone into the barn for something and heard him! He might have peed on the floor like a fucking animal! How could he just leave him like that for four hours without checking in? He didn’t have his phone this time, so it wasn’t like he could call! He also wasn’t free enough to climb down and relieve himself the way he had when he was chained to the bed.

Hank could tell he’d worked himself into a temper by the time he got downstairs. He’d managed, with great difficulty, to squirm his way into fresh boxers and pyjama pants. The pyjama shirt had also been pulled on, though he’d given up on buttoning it. His sling was damp and uncomfortable, so he’d taken it off and made do with holding his arm in place. Hank had managed to whip up some pancakes while he was gone, going for the flat crepe-like version with sugar and lemon. Richard seemed to like them, so he was hoping to cheer him up with that.

“How are you feeling?” The glower Richard sent him told him all he needed to know. There was clearly no lingering pain, at least nothing debilitating. It seemed it was his pride that had been hurt the most. Hank softened as he set down a tall glass of cold water and pushed a hot plate of pancakes across to him, setting out the lemon and sugar on the side. Richard’s lips thinned as he looked at the steaming food. He knew Hank was trying to soften him up. He’d even taken down the blue ivy cup he liked best to serve his tea. “I really am sorry.”

He thought Richard might soften for a moment. His dark eyes glanced at him, only thinning slightly as he thinned his lips. His good hand subtly pulled his shirt together, though he didn’t try to button it. It would be a futile effort with only one hand, and it was hot anyway. Hank held back from helping for now. Until he had some sign that he was forgiven or Richard was open to contact, he was likely to be swatted away. It seemed Richard had finally settled on a question as he picked up his fork.

“Where the fuck were you?” He tried not to be swayed as Hank poured out the tea just the way he liked it and handed the cup across, leaving the teapot within reach as he circled to take the seat beside him.

“I was doing my rounds.” That much was obvious. “I didn’t forget about you, but...I should have planned it better.” From the way Richard huffed, he could tell he was still mortified. Hank paused a moment to see if Richard would say something. It was hard to know what to say without knowing what was on his mind.

“What did you think would happen after leaving me locked up like that?” Hank winced a little. He had a point. “I nearly fucking wet myself!” Hank was more worried about the heat in the barn and how he was probably dehydrated. With that in mind, he pushed across the tall glass of water he’d set out earlier. It was understandable that Richard was more bothered by the bathroom situation. That was the most embarrassing element. But I didn’t do it on purpose! Gingerly laying a hand on his knee, Hank squeezed softly.

“I know, and I didn’t mean for it to happen.” What exactly did you mean to happen? “If you had, it wouldn’t have been the end of the world.” He knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment Richard’s head whipped round. “I don’t mean it doesn’t matter! I just mean that if it had happened, only you and I would know about it, and you know I’d never tell anyone!” Did he know that? This thing they’d started hadn’t been going on for that long. Did he really know Hank well enough to say he wasn’t laughing it up with other people behind his back? He shook his head with a sigh. It was incredibly unlikely, considering the lack of people in the area and the fact they’d been spending a great deal of time together. When would Hank have had the time to sneak off to the village to talk about him? And why would he? Who would even be interested in such affairs?

“Is that why you put the straw down? So I could pee on it like an animal?”

“Wha-No! I just put it down to cover the floorboards, you know, keep the barnlike feel of the place.” Richard hummed, clearly unconvinced. Honestly, Richard needing the bathroom hadn’t even crossed his mind, but he knew it should have. They were only human, after all. It was natural that after a couple of hours Richard would need to go, and he’d left him maybe twice that long. “I promise! It didn’t even cross my mind that you’d...And you didn’t, but if you had, it wouldn’t be a problem. I would have cleaned you up, and no one else would ever know. This is all just between us; I’d never tell anyone else.” Still unconvinced, Richard let out a low hum, quietly convinced there was at least one person he’d tell. “Cross my heart.” Seeing Richard’s lips twitch, Hank was pretty sure he had him and chanced sliding his hand a little further up his thigh to rub and tease circles there.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t laugh about it?” So that’s what’s bothering him...

“No, of course not! It’s not funny at all! I’d never make you do something like that on purpose, not without even talking about it first!” Richard wasn’t sure that was entirely true. He hadn’t exactly given permission for him to take him up there and trap him in the first place. But I didn’t say no either...“I said we’d start small, remember? I was just going to leave you in the stall for a while and see how you liked the tail.” Richard grumbled quietly, his memory of the tail being somewhat soured by this latest experience. His skin prickled as Hank leaned in and brushed his whiskers across his cheek, blue eyes filled with heat. “You have no idea how hard it was not to fuck you the moment I climbed the ladder, seeing you squirming there all slick with sweat.” They had rather different memories of how he’d looked. Hank made it sound appealing. To Richard, he recalled being a sweaty mess, desperate for release in more ways than one, holding on for all he was worth and almost crying for Hank to hurry over to unlock him.

“Don’t even think about it!” Richard knew what he was doing, and it wasn’t happening! No way was he climbing up there and letting him lock him back in that infernal contraption for God knows how long! He’d had quite enough of that sort of experimentation. It didn’t matter how high Hank’s hand was creeping up his thigh, nor that his teeth were currently nursing his lobe, rough whiskers scratching his neck. It is not happening! The tail had been removed, and it wasn’t going anywhere near his ass again! He had half a mind to throw it in the trash after the indignity he’d suffered!

“Try and stop me.” Richard balked at the twinkle in his eye as he drew back, skin colouring under the scrutiny. Asshole!

Chapter Text

It wasn’t until another four weeks had passed that Richard was finally allowed to remove the sling. Hank drove him to the hospital and waited with him for the x-rays. The minor fractures had healed as expected, and the painful elbow exercises had done the job of keeping his joint flexible. Unfortunately, healing the fractures didn’t mean he could ride again. It would be another two months before Allen would let him anywhere near a saddle. It was unfortunate, but necessary. At least I’m out of that damned sling! Now he knew how Nines had felt when his sling was removed.

Nines was now fully healed and back with the flock, flapping and skittering across the pen as if the fox attack had never happened. Unfortunately, that meant his pining for Gavin had increased. The problem with that was that, now he’d had a taste of being in charge, Gavin was less willing to be Nines’ little plaything. Their meetings, which usually started positively, now had a habit of becoming violent. They flapped and kicked, pecking and clawing at each other for dominance. When it was particularly bad, Richard and Hank would step in and separate them. At other times, Nines would generally get the upper hand and make Gavin grudgingly submit to his wiles.

There was always that period of calm afterwards. Once they’d mated, Nines would nestle alongside Gavin and rub his wing or groom his neck feathers in apology for his roughness. Gavin would often reciprocate, ducking his head beneath Nines’ beak and resting beside him until Richard decided it was time for Nines to return to his flock. Since it was now heading towards the end of summer, there were fewer chicks, and the first batch of young chickens had been sold already. Part of that sale had been trading three healthy young black hens for hens to replace those that had been lost in the fox attack. It wouldn’t do to have Nines breeding with his own offspring.

Bringing in new hens had taken a surprising amount of effort. Much like with the injured hens, he’d had to keep the three newcomers separate. The flock needed time to get used to the newcomers and learn to accept them. There had been a lot of flapping and kicking at first, from both sides. Nines had been especially violent, in part, perhaps, because he couldn’t see Gavin during those two weeks. With the hens taking up space in the empty pen, there was nowhere they could meet. Nines had kicked and pecked at the mesh, jumping in a flurry of angry feathers to defend his flock from the interlopers. The newcomers had done their fair share of flapping and scratching as well, but things had gradually settled down.

The good thing about the new hens was that they distracted Richard from the stables. Allen still wouldn’t let him near the place. He could visit, and was now allowed to do light tasks around the yard, but Allen wouldn’t even let him walk the horses out to the field. His excuse was that he didn’t want the horses to pull the leading rein and hurt him again, but Richard was pretty sure he was limiting contact so he didn’t get any funny ideas. Just because he could handle a leading rein, didn’t mean he was ready to ride.

Hank knew he was restless. He woke up early and insisted on heading out to the fields, grumbling under his breath about how doing a little work wouldn’t kill him. Hank let him go. Sometimes, in those earlier days, he went with him to help clear the fields for the coming day. These days, Richard went down by himself and Hank met him a little later to help set the horses loose. Despite grumbling that he was perfectly capable of doing it himself, Richard didn’t go against Allen’s instructions. He’d never hear the end of it otherwise.

Richard’s low mood was palpable, and he often needed to apologise for snapping unnecessarily. Hank gave him more space, spending more time in his own house and working around the yard. As a result, Richard took to sitting in his coop with the chickens. Now used to being handled, Nines often came to sit with him. It was like he could sense his low mood and wanted to help him through it. He hopped in his lap and settled between his knees in a contented ball of feathers, letting Richard pet him. It was soothing for both of them, and Hank had roused him more than once in the evening because he’d fallen asleep.

“Richie…Hey, you’re going to give yourself heatstroke, sleeping out here like this!” Richard’s chestnut eyes blinked open to squint up through the blinding sunlight. Hank was right. It was only just after midday, when the sun was hottest, and there was no shade in his coop. Feeling Richard’s movement, Nines’ head also popped up from where it had been resting on his breast. Much like Richard raised his arms to stretch, Nines spread his wings and hopped out of the space between Richard’s crossed legs. He beat the air with a loud caw and hopped off across the coop. Richard rubbed his eyes and swallowed, feeling an unpleasant dryness in his throat. “You good?” His skin felt hot where the sun had been beating down on him, especially across the back of his neck, which would probably be tender later.

“I’m okay.” The scratchy response was less than reassuring. Hank helped him stand up, keeping hold of his elbow as he swayed. After a few moments, Richard managed to get his bearings enough to lead the way back to the house. He didn’t even question Hank following him. He’d become a constant guest, day and night. If it wasn’t for the dogs, Richard was pretty sure Hank would move in at this point. After nudging Richard towards the high stools at the breakfast bar, Hank set about getting him some water and fixing a light lunch.

“I’ve been thinking…It’s about time the new hens moved into the coop, don’t you think?” Hank said as he sliced up a carrot. Allen had dropped off some healthy dips and hummus he thought they might enjoy. It wasn’t Hank’s idea of food, but Richard liked it well enough. Richard looked up cluelessly at his question. Honestly, he’d been waiting to follow Hank’s lead. He was still pretty new when it came to raising chickens.

“If you say so…” Hank chuckled softly as he moved on to the cucumber. Once the pepper was gutted and sliced, he brought the plate of vegetables over with the mixed tray of dips and hummus. He watched fondly as Richard nibbled a carrot, instantly perking up at the taste of the hummus.

“They’ve had a couple of weeks to get used to each other, so it should be safe to put them in.” Their closeness was no guarantee, of course, but it had been a few days since their last scuffle at the mesh. With that in mind, Hank led the way down to the coop after lunch and passed the hens over the fence one by one. As Richard released the first hen into the coop, Nines came skittering across to meet her. Richard stayed close, ready to get between them if Nines clawed and pecked her, but after bobbing their heads for a few seconds, he moved aside to let her join the other hens. Bolstered by this experience, Richard happily released the other two, who got a similar greeting before joining the rest of the flock.

“Do you think it’ll be alright now?” Richard asked as he watched the hens clucking and pecking at the earth. They were a little louder than usual, and a few feathers were ruffled, but overall, it seemed like a positive introduction. Hank joined him by the mesh between their coops, watching the flock as they scratched the earth.

“We’ll know by tomorrow. The real test will be when they spend the night in the coop, but so far so good. You should give them a good feed now, so it’s a positive experience. I’ll bring the bucket for you.” With that, Hank hopped the fence and made his way to Richard’s garage, returning shortly with a bucket of feed. Richard took it with thanks and spread a few generous handfuls across the earth before refilling the trough. He even put some inside the coop for the night, hoping to keep them all happy. With the new hens now settling in, Richard was a little reluctant to leave. What if a fight broke out once he was gone? He didn’t fancy another trip to the vet.

“Do you think I should stay for a while, just to make sure?”

“Make sure of what? Everything seems fine to me.” He was right, too. Despite the energetic greeting, things seemed to have settled down. Richard could no longer tell which hens were which, though he thought the new hens were slightly smaller. Nines was now pacing happily around the coop, crowing and pecking the earth at regular intervals. “You know, since they’ve been separated for so long, it might be an idea for me to bring Gavin over. It’ll wear Nines out and put him in a better mood for tonight.” Hank was probably right. A pent up Nines might be more suspicious of the newcomers.

“What do you think, Nines? You want to see Gavin?” Richard cooed as he picked him up. Judging by the loud caw he got in response, Richard assumed that was a yes. Hank chuckled softly and held the door as Richard left the coop. He wasn’t about to judge a man for talking to his cock; he did it regularly himself. With all his animals. Once Richard was safely in the coop, Hank hurried over to fetch Gavin, who was just as enthusiastic about visiting Nines as Nines was about having him. Once they were loose, Hank and Richard watched their usual courting dance begin.

Their feathers fluffed, wings spread wide as they pecked the earth and tossed food for one another. This part of the ritual hadn’t changed, but it lasted much longer, and they both tried to appear much bigger. Nines’ feathers shone as usual as he stretched his wings and turned this way and that, almost dancing for Gavin’s attention. Gavin was far more rugged with his lighter brown feathers, and the green glinted as he shook his glossy tail. They both strutted and scratched the earth before getting impatient and squawking loudly. It was almost like they were having an argument as their pace increased.

They were soon circling and chasing each other around the wire pen, hopping and flapping as they went. Richard wasn’t sure which of them would tire first, but whoever did would undoubtedly be the receiver. It seemed Nines had the upper hand, which made sense. He had more to lose. With three new hens in his coop, he could hardly submit to Gavin and return carrying his seed. That risked upsetting his own mating cycle and might make it seem like he was a weak rooster. Gavin, oblivious to these facts, was just as stubborn.

Soon, they were scratching and clawing, using their spurs to take digs at each other. Richard was a little worried, but so far, they were warning shots. Nines crowed loudly, puffing his chest and beating his wings as he leapt at Gavin, who scuffled back, scraping his wings and tail along the dirt. It seemed Nines had spooked him enough to make him humble. Though clearly disgruntled, Gavin spread his wings and raised his tail, clucking and grumbling under his breath. Nines claimed him quickly, likely worried he might change his mind and fight back if he didn’t.

When they were done, the usual peace settled over the pen. Despite his earlier grumblings, Gavin still nestled against Nines and accepted the light pecks along his neck as he groomed his feathers. It was safe to leave them now. Gavin and Nines rarely fought after mating, and would happily remain together for hours. With that in mind, Hank pressed up behind Richard and gripped his slim hips. Richard leaned back without hesitation, confident Hank would catch his weight.

“Now that’s settled, how about a little more dog training?” Richard stiffened instantly. I should have known there was a catch. “Come on, it’s been a while since you last saw Sumo, and don’t think I haven’t noticed you sidling up to Connor.” Richard blanched at the accusation, though it wasn’t exactly a lie. He’d never touched Connor without the fence between them, but he had been trying to get used to him, little by little. Connor seemed to understand on some level too, because whenever he put his snout through the fence, he always held himself still, barely even twitching his ears as he watched Richard’s fingers pet his nose. “I’ll be there the whole time.” That didn’t make him feel any better.

It was almost like Connor heard them as he perked up and approached the mesh. His ears twitched, likely at the sound of his name, and his tail started wagging. Richard tried not to look at his open mouth as he panted, well able to imagine what might happen if those jaws closed on some part of his body. Connor turned in a circle as Hank praised him, whining and bounding along beside him as he headed for the door. Richard sighed helplessly. There was really nothing for it. He was in Hank’s yard, so he’d have to pass Connor either way.

“Connor, sit.” With a little encouragement, Connor did as he was told, tail wagging across the dry grass as he looked at them. “Wait here while I get Sumo; he’s in the kitchen.” Richard just about had a heart attack as Hank stepped away from him, leaving nothing but open space between him and Connor. Richard grabbed his arm and pulled him to a halt, panicking already as Connor tilted his head.

“Y-you’re not just going to leave me with him!” It may have sounded pathetic, but his racing heart didn’t care at that particular moment. There was no way he was going to let Hank leave him alone with a murderous beast! A whine rumbled in Connor’s throat, as if he’d heard the thought.

“Don’t worry, he’ll stay. I’ve told him.” Richard didn’t match Hank’s confidence that Connor would do as he was told. Peeling his hand off, Hank leaned in to leave a bristly kiss on Richard’s lips. “Trust me, he’s a good boy.” Connor certainly perked up at hearing that. Richard let go with a withering sigh, legs already shaking as Hank turned his back and gave Connor a second reminder to stay where he was. Connor panted happily, head turned to watch Hank cross the yard to the house. Richard was too busy watching Connor to notice when Hank passed the end of the coop, but he definitely noticed as Connor turned back to look at him instead.

“G-good boy…S-stay there!” It seemed being told he was good was almost too much for Connor. His panting increased tenfold, and his tail thumped the earth so fast he sounded like a helicopter about to take off. Richard swallowed, feeling the adrenaline making his arms quiver. “You’re not so bad…” Hank was right about him staying where he was. Though he was looking at him, Connor didn’t so much as lift his paw. Richard licked his lips nervously, and slowly pushed himself off the fence he was huddled against. He won’t bite me. He won’t bite me. Repeating the mantra, he slowly reached out.

Connor, recognising the routine, lowered his head a little, allowing Richard to bring his hand in from above, away from his mouth. After licking his nose, Connor closed his mouth, perhaps sensing Richard’s gaze stray to his teeth. Twitching his ears, Connor watched eagerly as Richard’s fingers came to rest on his snout. It was a light touch, barely even ghosting across his fur, but on the second pass, his fingers finally settled. Richard couldn’t believe he was doing it. Connor, who was far scarier than Sumo, was sitting right in front of him, letting him stroke him. There was no fence. No safety barrier. The collie could leap up and maul him if he wanted to, and yet, he didn’t.

“Attaboy.” Richard almost jumped out of his skin as he looked up to find Hank watching him.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Richard asked as he climbed into the truck and looked at the backseat, where Sumo and Connor were bundled in together. He was a little nervous about the idea of driving with two unsecured beasts loose in the backseat, but Hank wasn’t bothered at all. Judging by the way the dogs soon settled in together, panting happily and staring out the windows, it wasn’t new to them either.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be fine.” Hank was soon pulling out of his yard and on to the dirt road that would take them to the village. True to his word, Connor and Sumo stayed put on the backseat and didn’t even get up to paw and bark at the windows. The back of the truck was like a second home to them, the moving scenery a welcome and familiar sight. After a few tense minutes, Richard decided it wasn’t actually that bad. Connor and Sumo showed no sign of moving to clamber between the seats and maul him, so he sat back and took to looking out the window. Hank drove the familiar winding road to the pub and parked out front.

Letting the dogs out, unleashed, Hank had absolute confidence in Connor and Sumo to stay at his side. Since the weather was still hot and the sun still low in the sky, they sat outside. Rose always let well-behaved dogs inside, but Hank didn’t want to push his luck with the two of them. They were both big, and it was a nice evening, so Sumo and Connor would probably prefer it outside anyway. At first, Richard thought they might sit at one of the benches out front, but Hank beckoned him and led the way into a huge rear garden. There was a long lawn with benches scattered across it, many of them with people already seated, and an old disused play set stood at the far end.

“We’ll sit at a table near the end. Connor and Sumo can run around there without disturbing anyone else.” That was true. There was a large open space between the last bench and the abandoned play set, more than enough room for the two large dogs to frolic. Hank led the way with a whistle, which sent Connor zipping off towards the play set with Sumo lumbering after him. Hank greeted people as they passed, and Richard nodded and murmured a polite hello as well. Being the newer resident, he still wasn’t at home with everyone yet as he fumbled through the greetings. At the last bench, Hank waved Richard to sit and pulled out his wallet, ready to head inside.

“Wait a minute! You’re just leaving me out here?” Hank chuckled at the nerves in Richard’s voice as his dark eyes glanced over at Connor and Sumo, who were happily frolicking on the grass together. Laying a hand on his shoulder, Hank gave it a light squeeze.

“You’ll be fine; they probably won’t even notice I’m gone. Besides, you did great today!” Richard wasn’t sure if not screaming when Connor had planted his paws on his shoulders and bowled him over counted as great, but he couldn’t deny it had happened. Hank, of course, had thought it hilarious, though he’d quickly shooed Connor away and lifted him to his feet in apology. Looking at the dogs, Richard thought Hank was probably right. Connor and Sumo were happily running circles around each other in the sun, oblivious to their human companions.

“You want an elderflower cider? Rose probably has some left.” Richard felt his cheeks heat at the question and looked up to find Hank smirking at him. He remembered with perfect clarity what happened the last time he bought him cider. Licking his lips, Richard nodded. He’d just have to show a little self control. They had the dogs with them this time anyway. It wasn’t like he was about to suck Hank’s dick with them in the car. “Attaboy. I’ll order us something to eat, too.” Richard trusted Hank’s food choices, so he let him go unquestioned. He hadn’t had a poor meal at the pub yet.

“O-oh…” Richard balked as he turned back to find the dogs staring at him, their ears and tails drooping. It seemed they’d noticed Hank’s disappearance and wanted answers as they padded over. Sumo remained on the other side of the bench, but Connor circled around to stand right beside Richard, his ears low and twitching as he looked up with big, brown eyes. “Um…Don’t worry, he’ll be back soon.” This seemed to appease Connor a little as his tail slowly wagged from side to side, but he didn’t back off. Licking his nose, the collie slowly edged forward until he could rest his chin on Richard’s thigh, dark eyes still staring up. It was almost like he was trying to trap him to ensure his secondary human didn’t disappear as well. Sumo, being older, seemed a lot more confident in Hank’s likelihood of returning. He settled on the grass on the opposite side of the bench and closed his eyes. “Good boy…” Despite the awkwardness in his voice, Connor’s tail wagged faster at the grumbled praise.

Unsure what he should do, and seeing no avenue of escape, Richard set his hand on Connor’s head. He didn’t even need to move it and Connor’s tail was swishing. His fur was a little hot where he’d been out in the sun as the darker hair trapped the heat. A little more confident after a few hours in his company, Richard slowly moved his hand back and forth, patting the silken fur with steady strokes. A small whine rumbled in Connor’s throat as if asking for reassurance, making Richard glance at the distant door.

“Soon-soon!” He was sure Hank would be out within a few minutes. It wouldn’t take long for him to order, and knowing his feelings about dogs, he probably wouldn’t tarry. He was proven right a few moments later as Hank appeared carrying two drinks. One was in a traditional pint glass; the other, a longer, slimmer glass. It was still a pint, just a different styled glass. It was really no surprise when the slimmer glass was placed in front of Richard.

“Look at you two, you’re friends already!” Connor panted and barked happily as he drew back to paw at Hank. It was almost like he was telling him off for leaving him alone. Sumo barely raised his head as Hank took a seat on his side of the bench, facing Richard. Chuckling, Hank patted Connor’s head and had him settle down alongside the table. This put him in the way of anyone wanting to get by, but there were no tables past where they sat, so it didn’t matter anyway. “Are you still scared of him?” There was something hopeful in Hank’s voice as he asked the question.

“Not exactly…” He wasn’t terrified anymore, but he wasn’t about to go leaping Hank’s fence without him being there. Sumo was alright. The old, lumbering dog never showed any interest in pouncing or chasing him, but Connor was so young and full of energy that Richard could well imagine him getting a little too excited and giving him a nip. He laced his fingers on the table at the thought, keeping them safely out of reach. “I mean, he’s not terrible.” Hank snorted at that, almost choking on his beer.

“You hear that, Con? Officially not terrible!” Connor raised his head, panting happily as Hank chuckled and ruffled his floppy ears. Richard felt his cheeks heat at that. I suppose that does sound a little mean…It really wasn’t Connor’s fault that he was a dog, and as dogs went, he was a fine specimen. He was friendly, obedient, and well-behaved. The only downside was that he was high energy and a little over excitable at times. Richard balked as something touched his leg beneath the table, only to realise seconds later that it was Hank’s foot. Hank’s eyes softened as he leaned his chin on one hand and watched him. Richard nudged his foot a little closer beneath the table so their calves touched and did his best to quash the flutters in his stomach. “It’s good you’re getting used to the boys…”

“Oh? Why’s that?” Richard swallowed nervously, feeling a little exposed under Hank’s warm, almost knowing, gaze.

“Because it’ll be nice to have you over at my place for a change.” Richard’s house was nice and all, but it wasn’t home. Compared to his own house, it was actually quite cold. Not temperature wise, but how it felt. Richard’s house was decked out in dark woods and antiques. There were old paintings on the walls and sculptures and vases dotted around the rooms and halls. Everything was spotless, which wasn’t a bad thing, but it made the place feel unlived in. Richard wasn’t the type to leave things lying around. Everything was put in its proper place. It was like a hunting lodge one might lease for the season. Hank’s home, on the other hand, was much more inviting.

There were worn carpets in the halls, and the walls were faded off-white with old family pictures cluttering various surfaces. There was a little dirt and grime from boots and muddy paws, a homely fireplace with two large dog beds in front of the sofa and chairs, and his kitchen was cluttered and crummy. He cleaned, of course; he didn’t want mice inside, but it was filthy compared to Richard’s. His bedroom was also very different. The bed was older, with a solid metal frame that had gone through at least three generations, though the mattress had been changed regularly. That was one of the first things to go when his wife died. It was old already, and sleeping in the same bed without her was painful. He didn’t even want to think about his son’s room. He rarely set foot in there at all. Things were almost exactly as they were before. A time capsule to better times. That was probably something he should sort out soon.

“Your place?” It seemed the thought hadn’t even crossed Richard’s mind. Being so scared of dogs, it had always been quite out of the question that he might set foot in Hank’s house. Now he was getting used to them, it might not be so bad. Though Connor had been excited when he first interacted with him, he’d settled down over the past few hours. Richard was no longer new and exciting, so he was less prone to jumping up at him. He also seemed to understand that Richard was easily spooked, so if he wanted to keep his new friend, he needed to approach him with caution.

There was a brief interruption as Rose dropped off their food. She’d made a light chicken and mushroom pie with a puff pastry lid served with new potatoes and green vegetables. It went down a treat with the elderflower cider, and Hank ended up ordering a second round of drinks with dessert. Dessert that day was a freshly baked lemon tart with a thick curd filling and lime zest sprinkled over the top. It was so full of flavour that Richard’s glands ached from the mixture of sweet and sour. When they finally finished eating, there was still a little sun on the distant horizon across the fields, so Hank ordered a third round of drinks. He smirked as he pushed a full glass towards Richard, who already looked a little dozy as he leaned his chin on his hand and gazed at the distant treeline.

“It’s a nice view, right?” Hank said as he joined him, looking over his shoulder at the growing pink and gold streaking the horizon. The sun was low, and rapidly falling out of sight as they watched. Richard maintained his lazy expression as he watched with lidded eyes. For a while, Hank thought he might have fallen asleep, though he could still see a trace of chestnut and his fingers were still nursing the cold glass.

“Mm…pretty…” He certainly sounded like he was nodding off. Hank huffed fondly and reached across to tousle his dark hair. Richard roused himself enough to grumble and fix the ruffled locks before returning to his former place. It was nice, watching the evening creeping in. The gold and pink darkened, slowly stretching out before giving way to a darker shade of blue with the first pricks of twinkling stars. Connor, bored with sitting by the bench, padded away to nose the grass on the edge of the play area, soon followed by Sumo. Hank wasn’t sure if it was for company or to keep an eye on the younger dog, but Sumo was soon plodding along at Connor’s side, and Connor enticed him into a small wrestling match. “Thanks…” Hank looked up in surprise to find Richard looking at him.

“For what?”

“Everything…You’ve been helping around the house, helping with Nines and the coop, taking me out and introducing me to people…” Hank softened a little. Most of those were things any decent neighbour would do, and it would be a lie to say he didn’t get anything in return. He didn’t expect anything, of course, but sleeping with Richard was certainly a perk. With no one else close enough to see, Hank reached across the table and took one of Richard’s hands. It wasn’t until he held it that he realised just how much smaller it was. He really was quite delicate.

“You don’t have to thank me for things like that! It’s the least I can do…We are dating, after all!” Richard’s dark eyes widened at that, his cheeks dusting pink in the growing darkness. Hank tilted his head, surprised that Richard was surprised. “Right?” Richard nodded quickly, gripping Hank’s hand as something warm bubbled in his stomach.

“R-right, of course we’re dating!” Richard felt a lot better now that Hank had confirmed it. He couldn’t help feeling somewhat special. Hank had chosen him. He didn’t have to say they were dating. He could have just left it ambiguous in case he got bored later and changed his mind. Actually having it confirmed made it official. Richard looked down at their joined hands, his stomach fluttering as Hank’s thumb teased the back of his hand. Hank was still marvelling at how delicate his fingers were, and  how soft the skin on the back of his hand was. There was a little roughness across his joints where he gripped the reins with his fingers, but aside from that, his skin was soft.

“And since we’re dating, you won’t mind coming back to my place, right?” Richard thought he might have a heart attack. Go back to Hank’s place? With the dogs? Looking over Hank’s shoulder, he could still see Connor and Sumo nipping and pawing each other and rolling around on the grass. Connor still had a lot of energy to burn, but Sumo was flagging already. Glancing over his shoulder, Hank squeezed Richard’s hand in reassurance. “Don’t worry. They generally stay downstairs.” That helped a little. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, seeing Hank’s house. He could always go back to his place if it turned out to be too much.

With Richard’s agreement, they finished their drinks and Hank led the way back through the pub. Connor and Sumo followed at his whistle, panting and wagging their tails as Hank stopped at the bar to return their glasses. Since he’d been drinking, Hank decided to leave the truck and walk back. It wasn’t far, and the extra walk would burn off the rest of Connor’s energy. He didn’t even need to keep an eye on the dogs as they went. They knew the way home and happily darted off through the trees ahead. Hank kept his pace slow, one arm looped securely around Richard’s waist as he stumbled along beside him.

“Henry…” They’d barely hopped the fence into the nearest field when Richard stopped him. His dark eyes were lidded as he reached up to rest his hands on his shoulders. Hank gripped his waist to steady him and leaned down, accepting the needy kisses on his lips as Richard nudged closer. Hank hummed in satisfaction, barely waiting for an instant to rub and tease Richard’s hard cock through his jeans. He smirked as he drew back, unsurprised as Richard bucked against his hand.

“Something wrong, Richie?” Richard whined softly. Hank knew exactly what was wrong! It was the same as the last time he’d drunk Rose’s cider. It was bad enough last time with only one, but he’d drunk three over dinner. Maybe I should have stopped at one…Hank didn’t stop him as he pulled him down. He went along with it, leaning down and kissing him until his lips were pink from the rub of his whiskers. “You want something, honey?” Richard nodded, panting against his lips as his hands slid down to grip his belt. Hank smirked as he felt the tug, leaving a few smaller kisses on Richard’s lips before straightening up and jutting his hips forward. “Go on then, attaboy.”

Richard didn’t even wait before dropping to his knees, lips already working the rough denim of Hank’s jeans. His own cock was solid, uncomfortably snug in the tight material of his pants. That wasn’t his immediate concern though. A large hand laced in his hair, making his dark eyes flutter as he looked up. Hank really was a beast of a man, almost twice his size. He didn’t stop him as he pulled his belt and rucked his jeans to his knees. Richard cursed under his breath as he buried his face in Hank’s thighs, working his lips over the cotton swaddled bulge. Hank’s cock wasn’t quite hard yet, though feeling the hot breath on his crotch was certainly getting him there.

“Fuck, you’re thirsty tonight.” Richard openly moaned as Hank tugged the waistline of his boxers low enough to release his cock. It knocked Richard’s cheek as it swung free, and he wasted no time in opening his mouth to lick the heavy shaft. Hank chuckled as he watched. It was almost like he was playing a game. His mouth hung open, tongue chasing his cock as it swayed, hands gripping his large thighs. “Come on now, honey, here you are.” Hank gripped his cock and pumped slowly, holding Richard just close enough for his tongue to lick the dripping tip.

Despite the grip in his hair, Richard tried to nudge closer. His own cock twitched in his pants, making him squirm as Hank denied him. A moan rumbled in his throat as Hank slapped his cheek with his cock, just letting his tongue graze the side before holding it out of reach again. Hank chuckled, cursing under his breath as Richard let him slap his cheek again. Fuck, it was debauched how he moaned with each hard tap, leaving the sticky smears on his cheek.

“That’s it. Fuck, Richie, open up.” Richard’s mouth was already open, tongue lolling to lick the underside of Hank’s cock as it slipped between his lips. He moaned around it, letting Hank’s hand lead him. He didn’t care that his throat wasn’t stretched yet, or that his jaw started aching within the first three thrusts. All that mattered was the cock stretching his jaw, the tip barely grazing the roof of his mouth as he rocked backwards and forwards. “Attaboy.” The encouragement made him moan, one hand leaving Hank’s thighs to grip his cock instead. He worked his hand with his lips, letting Hank guide him back and forth.

Richard closed his eyes, focusing on the tugs on his scalp and tightening the hand on Hank’s cock. The taste of skin and salt filled his senses, making his mouth water. It was almost like Hank felt the slickness increase as he snapped his hips and hit the back of his throat. Richard almost choked around him, parting his own thighs and shuffling closer on the dewy earth. The scent of soil and grass reached his nose, alongside the musky scent of Hank’s sticky skin. He didn’t even care that his own knees were getting wet, or that his shirt was sticking. All that mattered was sucking the cock in his mouth until he got his reward.

“Fuck, open your eyes Richie. Look at me!” Richard did as he was told and opened his dark eyes, letting Hank see how hungry he was as he squirmed and sucked. Hank’s mouth was open, skin flushed and glowing in the starlight. It wasn’t that late, so the sky wasn’t completely dark, even without the glittering stars. “Fuck, that’s it…That’s it.” Richard shuddered as something nestled between his thighs, and it didn’t take him long to realise it was Hank’s foot. He rocked greedily, rubbing his cock against his shin. Hank smirked as he pushed closer, enjoying the sight of Richard humping his leg. Of course, he wouldn’t let him overdo it. “Drink it down, Richie, you hear me?” Richard whined around his cock and pulled back to the tip as he spilled.

Hank didn’t think he’d ever tire of seeing Richard sucking his cock, especially with the way his eyes fluttered when he swallowed. His hand pumped greedily, lips sucking until there was nothing left and his tongue got to work licking him clean. As soon as he was clean, before Richard could finish, Hank pulled him off and dragged him to his feet. He chuckled as Richard rocked against him in a futile effort to finish.

“Nu-uh-uh, Richie. I don’t want you to finish until you’re spread on my bed and I’m balls deep in your ass…Would you like that?” Richard whined, the sound something between an encouragement and despair. He’d been so close, happily squirming on the leather of Hank’s boot, and now he was hard, frustrated, and wanting. Hank chuckled, appeasing Richard with a few more gentle kisses before wrapping his arm around his waist and guiding him across the fields that would take them home.

Chapter Text

The walk to Hank’s was a long one, mainly because they stopped every few feet to lose themselves in a tangle of teasing tongues and roving fingers. Hank wasn’t sure which of them instigated it, but they kept grabbing at each other all the way to his backyard. When they got to the porch, Connor and Sumo were already there, wagging their tails and waiting impatiently. Hank barely had room to reach between them and open the door before they scurried through the house, leaving the sound of scraping claws and padding paws in their wake. Hank didn’t even think before following them. Pulling Richard against his chest, he hauled him inside, already devouring his lips as they stumbled into the hall.

The first thing that struck Richard about Hank’s house, and would have bothered him if he were sober, was the smell of wet dog. It wasn’t a fresh smell either. This was well and truly Sumo and Connor’s home. He didn’t think they’d marked the walls or anything like that, not recently at least, but the air was thick with their scent. Hank, so used to living in it, didn’t bat an eyelid as he shut the door and pinned Richard against it. Richard opened up as Hank attacked his lips and hooked a thigh over his hip to pull him closer. Hank’s hands were already inside his shirt, squeezing and stroking whatever flesh he could reach.

Richard yelped as firm hands grabbed his thighs and lifted, trapping his hard cock against Hank’s stomach in the process. Richard openly moaned as he locked his arms around Hank’s neck and fisted a hand in his silver hair. Hank growled back, holding tighter as Richard squirmed and bucked against him. Their lips barely parted for an instant. Rough whiskers stung Richard’s lips, leaving the skin pink and sore. Not content with remaining against the door, Hank hefted Richard higher and turned blindly towards the stairs. Richard made no arguments as he moaned and teased his tongue.

Unfortunately, Hank wasn’t as young as he used to be. He was strong, and Richard wasn’t heavy, but keeping his balance wasn’t as easy these days, so when he caught his foot and stumbled, he couldn’t keep his balance. His reflexes were quick enough to catch their combined weight on one arm and save Richard’s back from the stairs with the other. The landing was rough on his knees, but his chief concern was making sure Richard was alright. There was only a thin layer of worn, green carpet on the stairs to soften the fall. Luckily, Richard was in good enough humour to be smiling, which suggested he’d escaped any serious injury.

“Fuck, are you alright?” Hank couldn’t help chortling himself as Richard laughed, still holding his shoulders and leaning up to attack his lips. Hank hummed softly as that sinful tongue teased his lips. Richard was insatiable, soon tightening his legs around his waist and lifting himself to grind his cock. Hank took a slow breath, running his hands up Richard’s thighs and gripping his ass. They kissed again, nibbling lips and clicking their teeth in the process.

“Shit, just fuck me here!” It was barely a murmur. Something hurriedly gasped in Hank’s ear as Richard kissed his way along his jaw. Hank frowned a little as he drew back. No way in hell was he going to let Richard’s first experience of his house be a quick fuck on the stairs!

“You really think I’d let your first time in my house be on the stairs? Fuck no!” Richard whined softly, clearly put out as Hank drew back. He’d been hard all the way to the house! His jeans were uncomfortable, his cock was aching, and if he didn’t get fucked soon, there was going to be hell to pay! Seeing something of the impatience on his face, Hank chuckled and kissed him again. Richard was barely satisfied with this pittance, but sighed in relief when his pants were finally loosened. “Come on, honey…Up we go!” With a small heave, Hank stood and lifted Richard in his arms once more.

“The stairs wouldn’t be that bad.” Hank chuckled at the impatient grumble as Richard returned to his lips. He paused to enjoy it, unwilling to climb and kiss at the same time lest he lose his balance again. The last thing Richard needed after his recovery was another broken bone. The carpet was only a runner, covering the middle of the staircase and leaving bare wood on either side, an old stylistic choice. It would be a nasty fall with the uncovered wood and the thinness of the carpet. Even tripping upwards had been hard on Hank’s knees, though he’d managed to save Richard’s back and head. Tripping down them could be fatal.

“They’re hard as fuck!”

“They’re not the only thing…” Richard squirmed against him for emphasis, making Hank chortle as he finally continued his way up the stairs. Richard moaned as Hank gripped his ass and attacked his lips before they’d even made it two feet down the hall. They came to rest against a wall, where Richard would have been quite happy to remain as he flicked his tongue along Hank’s lips and gasped for breath.

“You’d end up with bruised knees or a sore back! Not to mention the risk of falling!” Unless they were right near the bottom, fucking on the stairs was completely out of the question, and Hank couldn’t see the appeal. The only good thing would be that they could get down to it quicker, which wasn’t worth it. Not when his bed was right upstairs. Richard had no counterargument to this and greedily attacked Hank’s lips and shirt instead. The soft, chequered material was soon half-open, letting Richard stroke and tease the curls on his chest.

They finally made it into the bedroom, not that Richard noticed. Not until his back hit the mattress, which was a little firmer than his own. The duvet was thinner, too. It was a thin, wool duvet that was warm in the winter and cool in the summer. Hank couldn’t remember a time he’d ever used anything else. His father had sworn by it. Wool was great for regulating body temperature. Richard, distracted as he was, didn’t even notice the pink floral pattern on the sheets. He was too busy pawing at Hank’s body and pulling his clothes off.

Hank let him push the shirt off his shoulders and shrugged out of it with a chuckle, enjoying this rare and unusual position. Most of the time, he had Richard face down on the bed or they were lying side by side. Having him on his back, lying beneath him, was unusual. Richard didn’t seem to notice at first, he was so intent on getting Hank’s clothes off. Hank took his time, stroking Richard’s dark hair and lazily kissing his wanton lips. Following his lead, Richard’s lips slowed, no longer rough and demanding. He met each little press, turning his head for better access and lavishing Hank with strokes of tongue.

“Come on, honey. Take your shirt off.” Richard followed the order with a soft whine, allowing Hank to pop the buttons and pull it off. Hank paused to look down at him, which was about the time Richard realised he was flat on his back with Hank’s body between his stretched thighs. His neck coloured slightly, chestnut eyes wide and uncertain under Hank’s scrutiny. He wasn’t used to being looked at like this. Like he mattered, like he was special. His previous lovers hardly ever looked at him, not the way Hank did. Hank looked at him like a dessert he was about to devour. “Put your hands here…I want to look at you.” That made him feel worse.

“You really don’t have to…” Richard trailed off, half-covering his torso as he brought his arms in. He was really quite skinny, with dark curls covering his chest, stomach, and arms. He considered himself lucky it hadn’t spread everywhere. His back and ass were quite hairless. Catching his hands, Hank brought them to his lips and pressed light kisses along his knuckles before leading them above his head to the old metal bedframe. The frame had been in the family for generations. The brass was cold against Richard’s fingers as he gripped the thin bars and tried not to seem to self-conscious. Unfortunately, Hank could read him like a book. He was already giving him one of those knowing smirks as he sat on his knees leaning over him.

“I never have to do anything…I want to.” Why Hank would want to look at him was beyond him. Sure, he was still in pretty good shape, but that was hardly special. It wasn’t like he was particularly muscular like Allen, or burly like Hank. He was really quite skinny, and there wasn’t much muscle there really. I probably look like a half-starved chimpanzee…That was one of the names he was called school, before he’d started shaving. After that, he just had more people wanting to use his thighs. The price of being the little guy at an all boy’s school. How else were they going to get off? The thought made his skin prickle as Hank ran his rough hands down his arms and caressed his sides, looking down at him with something like reverence. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” Richard snorted loudly.

“I look like an anorexic monkey.”

“Says who?” Richard averted his eyes. He wasn’t about to get into all his past insecurities, especially not at a time like this. As Hank’s hand gripped his chin, he had little choice but to turn back to face him. His skin heated at the reproachful look he was getting. “You’re not a monkey, you’re a ferret.” Was that supposed to make me feel better? “A cute little ferret with a pointy nose and the deepest eyes I’ve ever seen.” Thinning his lips, Richard slapped a hand over Hank’s mouth. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to do, but it was embarrassing. Hot breath warmed his fingers as Hank chuckled and caught his wrist, prickling kisses across his palm as he held it there. “You don’t look anorexic, you’re just thin! You’re healthy and toned, with perfect skin and great hair.” His skin was one thing he could agree to at least. Although he was getting his fair share of lines, his skin was free of blemishes and spots. His hairline was also something he could boast about at his age. There were no balding spots, and it wasn’t receding. Hank had also been lucky in that regard.

“I can’t believe you think being a ferret is a compliment!”

“It is! Ferrets are adorable.” Richard balked. He was many things, but adorable wasn’t one of them. Hank, however, seemed set to ignore any further arguments. Returning Richard’s hands to the bars above his head, he lowered himself over his smaller body and kissed his way down his arms. Richard did his best not to twitch and squirm as whiskers prickled his skin and soft lips left kisses all the way down. Hank enjoyed the softness of Richard’s skin on his lips and the tickle of hair on his fingers as he stroked a path down his sides. He was alert, reading every shiver and breath.

There was a patch along his right shoulder, right over the collarbone, that made his body twitch. His head subconsciously tilted in a silent plea for more, though Hank could tell he was holding back. That wouldn’t last for long. Though it wasn’t his longest relationship, he knew Richard well enough to know how to make him crumble. Stroking his sides, he soon circled back to stroke his firm abs. They weren’t sculpted like he went to the gym, but they were flat and firm as he stroked higher through the curls on his chest. Once he reached his nipples, he circled his thumbs on the sensitive nubs. Richard whined and squirmed, dark eyes softening as he gazed up at him.

“You like that, Richie?” He didn’t need an answer. The increased squirming was enough of an admission. He didn’t even need to squeeze the buds, and he was already getting more desperate. Richard panted, licking his lips as those rough thumbs circled and pressed, keeping his nipples hard and sending little buzzes of pleasure straight to his hard cock. “Attaboy.” Richard didn’t even know what the praise was for. All he was doing was lying there and taking it. His hands hadn’t moved from their place on the bedframe, though his thighs tightened on Hank’s waist and he lifted himself enough to allow a rough hand to stroke his back. Those whiskered lips finally kissed their way down to his chest, where they sucked and teased each tender bud.

There was absolutely no resistance as Hank removed his slacks and boxers, finally freeing his cock from its cotton prison. Richard cursed softly as he was freed, his cock twitching in the cool air. Hank chuckled softly as he kicked his own clothes off and joined him. He didn’t start prepping right away. He wanted to savour it first. The warmth of skin on skin contact. Richard was so soft and warm, and his body was really no hairier than his own. His curls were slightly darker, but that was just the price of getting old. Hank’s hair was just silver instead of black. He lowered his body to rest against Richard’s, keeping most of his weight on his knees and elbows so he didn’t squash his smaller body.

Richard was equally greedy as Hank’s hands teased his sides and back. Releasing the bedframe, he latched onto Hank’s shoulders and caressed his back. He could feel the firm muscles beneath his fingertips as he pressed and scratched the surface, making Hank grunt and moan. His legs hugged Hank’s waist, bringing their cocks together where they were trapped against Hank’s stomach. Richard squirmed and bucked, enjoying the little gasps and curses he drew from Hank’s lips as he worked.

They were both close when Hank sat up with a sigh, their skin sticky and clammy from the close contact. Ignoring Richard’s whine, he shuffled further down the bed and took Richard’s thighs in firm hands. Their cocks had left sticky smears on their skin, and Hank greedily licked the salty patch on Richard’s pelvis, unsure who it had come from. Unsure what to do with his hands, Richard returned them to the bars above his head. The metal was cold on his skin as he closed his hands around them and squirmed.

“Attaboy, Richie.” Patting his ass, Hank lay on his stomach and settled above his pelvis. It was an unusual position for Richard to be in. He was usually the one doing the sucking. He didn’t even know where to look as Hank smirked and leaned down to flick his tongue across his glans. His body quivered at the teasing lick, and goosebumps prickled his skin as Hank massaged his hips and kissed his inner thigh. “That’s it, honey. Just lie back and take it.” Richard could feel his cheeks heat at the grumbled order. Strong hands pushed his thighs wider, spreading him so Hank could see from his hanging balls to his tight little ring.

Richard moaned in surprise as Hank dropped lower to lick and kiss his balls, prodding and teasing the full sack. The skin was sensitive, so much so that the rubbing of Hank’s whiskers was almost uncomfortable. Hank was especially careful as he nibbled the loose flesh, enjoying the way Richard gasped and flinched. It was even better as he sucked the whole sack into his mouth and drew a debauched mewl from his quivering lips. Hank was greedy, sucking and teasing the small globes until Richard’s thighs trembled. Sucking too hard would be painful, and making them too hot would be uncomfortable, so Hank soon released them to lick his way along his tender perineum. He lingered on that soft strip of skin, enjoying the moans and whines that slipped out.

“Hold them open, Richie.” It was almost a telling off as Richard’s thighs started to close. Holding himself spread like this was uncomfortable and hard on his hips. Soothing the quivering joints, Hank kissed his inner thigh again and pried his ass open. The feeling of Hank’s breath on his ring was sinful, and it didn’t get any better as his warm, wet tongue started licking and prodding. Hank moaned eagerly as he licked the tight ring over and over, doing his best to soften the tense muscles. There was something almost homely about the earthy taste of Richard’s ass. It was something he was getting used to now and approached with a sense of anticipation.

Richard’s sweet little moans were more than enough of a reward. For someone who snubbed the idea of being a ferret, he certainly mewled like one as he squirmed on the bed. It was sort of cute how he tried to hold back from bucking against his face. Hank knew that’s what he wanted to do. He could tell from the tense, quivering muscles in his thighs and how his hips twitched against the sheets. The sound that fled his lips as Hank finally worked his tongue in was one of relief and lust. If he weren’t so busy, Hank might have smirked. Instead, he gripped his ass and pushed as deep as he could go, sucking and licking the tight little hole for all he was worth.

“H-Henry!” That’s more like it…Hank kept him like that, spread open on the bed with his tongue in his ass. Richard closed his eyes, moaning and panting as Hank’s tongue worked him open and soothed the tense muscles. He could feel himself gradually relaxing into it. There was less resistance as Hank’s tongue pushed in, letting him move faster, greedily licking and rim and stretching it wide. “F-fuck, put it in!” Hank scoffed at the idea. Forcing his way in now would tear his ass to ribbons. Not that he’d tell him that.

“You want it, honey?” Hank teased, enjoying the sound of Richard’s desperate little pleas and agreements. “Yeah? Well, you’ve got to show me first.” Richard whined. He’d already fallen to his knees and sucked him off once! What more did he want? Reaching for the bedside, Hank snagged the tube of thick gel and coated his fingers. Richard moaned, eagerly lifting his ass off the bed to give him room. He gasped at the coolness of the first touch, but openly moaned as Hank sank the first two digits in. “That’s it, Richie. You suck those fingers, take them good and deep.” Another debauched moan escaped as Richard did just that.

“G-good…” Hank smirked as Richard squirmed against his hand, greedily grinding his wet knuckles. Hank crooked and twisted his fingers to stroke and tease his walls, searching for that telling bump. “H-Henry-fuck!” Richard lifted his ass off the bed again and rocked his hips, sinking himself on Hank’s willing fingers. Each rock clasped his fingers, wrapping them in tight, wet warmth. The lube now coated most of his hand and Richard’s ass, though Richard didn’t seem to notice as he fucked himself. His lips had parted to pant and gasp, each rock drawing out a small rumble at the back of his throat that was almost a whine.

Once he’d added a third finger, Hank sat a little higher so he could palm himself. Sitting up certainly gave him a better view of Richard’s flushed face. He looked done already, with his dazed chestnut eyes and trembling legs. He wasn’t done. Far from it. Hank wouldn’t let him off that easily. Looking down at him, pumping his cock and fingering his ass, he couldn’t figure out why they didn’t do this more often. He could get used to seeing Richard like this, to having this sort of intimacy. Richard only seemed partially aware of him as he gripped the bars above his head and writhed.

Lubing his cock, Hank smirked and pulled out. Richard whined softly at the loss of contact, coming back to himself a little as he gazed up at him. Jutting his hips, Hank let him see what was coming. His cock was hard and ready, dripping with lube to ease his entry. Richard licked his lips and parted his thighs, waiting. As if Hank was about to resist that! Still pumping his cock, he leaned over his body to rest an arm above his head. Richard finally released the bars as Hank lowered himself, switching from gripping the bedframe to clinging to his shoulders.

“Attaboy, Richie,” Hank breathed as he drew back, peppering Richard’s jaw with gentle pecks and lining himself up. Richard buried his face in his shoulder with a hum, kissing his neck and nuzzling his cheek. Hank lifted himself as he pushed in. He wanted to watch Richard’s face, to see the look of bliss and wonder. Arching his spine, Richard’s lips parted in a small moan. His head fell back, dark eyes pinching shut as he bit his lip. “Look at me…Look at me, Richie.” Cupping his cheek, Hank drew his eyes back to him. His cock was only halfway in. Richard gasped as Hank gazed at him. His blue eyes were so intense it was like he was trying to take a picture, fixing the moment in his memory. The thought made him uncomfortable.

It was a little too intense. A little too intimate. This wasn’t what he was used to. He was more used to being on his knees, facing away from whoever fucked him. Facing away was good. Safe. He could let go when they weren’t looking, careless of the expressions on his face. His body tensed with nerves. How did he look? What expression was he wearing? Did he look dumb with his mouth hanging open? Was he drooling or sweating too much? Did he look ugly? He wasn’t handsome at the best of times, but with his face all screwed up with pleasure? He dreaded to think how that looked!

“Richie-Richie! Calm down…Relax…It’s just me. Just us. It’s nothing we haven’t seen or done before.” True, it wasn’t their first time having sex facing each other, but now that he was actually looking…Hank huffed softly as he leaned down. “Silly ferret.” A slow, gentle kiss silenced Richard’s rebuke. His dark eyes fluttered, breath sighing as Hank pressed closer. Richard moaned into his mouth, greedily fisting a hand in his hair and rocking his hips. Hank grunted his approval as his cock was sucked in. Richard’s breath shuddered as they parted, his expression coy and uncertain as he stared up at him.

“Henry.” Hank moaned softly at the sound of his name on Richard’s lips. It was a whispered plea, almost like a prayer.

“Richie.” Hank returned the favour, enjoying the way it made Richard whine and gasp. Taking charge, Hank set the pace. He fucked him slowly, stealing his breath with slow kisses and holding his hips to keep him steady. “Is that good, honey?” The soft moan Richard let out and the way he pulled him closer was almost answer enough as they kissed.

“Uh-huh.” It seemed that was all Richard could manage as he continued holding himself open and accepted each thrust with a gasping moan. Hank chuckled softly, caressing his cheek and running his thumb across his lips. Richard opened his mouth, apparently expecting him to push inside. Who was Hank to deny him? Richard’s tongue wrapped around his thumb the moment it slipped in. His lips closed so he could suck, dark eyes soft and heady. He moaned around it and squirmed on his cock, pleasure still coiling in the pit of his stomach.

“Are you close?” Richard nodded. Hank could tell that he was, and not just because his cock was swollen and dripping between them. The quivering in his thighs was getting worse, to the point Hank wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep holding on. His panted breaths were getting shorter and more urgent, bringing with them those needy little whines that begged for more. His brow furrowed, eyes pinching shut as he moaned and squirmed, trying to chase his own pleasure as much as Hank’s slow thrusts allowed. “Look at me then. I want to see you when you come.” The thought would have made Richard blush if that were possible. There was already a healthy pink flush in his cheeks that ran all the way down his neck. His skin was glowing in the low light of a lamp Hank didn’t even remember turning on.

“H-Henry!” It was an urgent plea. A warning he was close. Hank upped the pace a little, always keeping a hand on Richard’s cheek to keep him looking. He wanted eye contact. Richard felt vulnerable under those soft blue eyes, and Hank could tell. He could also read the warmth and adoration there. The wonder that anyone could look at him like that. Hank felt the same under Richard’s gaze. He hadn’t felt like this for a long time. “Henry!” The hands on his shoulders tightened, short nails biting his shoulders.

“Alright, Richie.” That soft murmur of encouragement was all it took. Richard’s mouth fell open with an almost surprised mewl. His seed spilled between them, mostly over his own pelvis. Cursing under his breath, Hank pulled out. He knew Richard hated the feeling of jizz in his ass, and there were better ways to finish. Lying spent and gasping, Richard didn’t even have the energy to protect his face as Hank came. Warmth painted his chest and neck, even catching his cheek and forehead. Hank chuckled softly as he caught his breath.

“Sorry. I didn’t quite mean to…” Though he’d intended to smear his chest, he hadn’t meant to get it on his face. Richard managed a tired smile of understanding, but still made no move to clean himself. Hank took charge. Leaning across the bed, he plucked a few tissues and wiped his cheek and neck. The rest they’d need a shower to clear, but that could wait a few minutes until they’d caught their breaths. Richard was certainly in no hurry to move as he pawed at his arm. Hank followed the gentle urging and leaned down, greedily kissing his waiting lips and settling beside him.

Chapter Text

It was a full three weeks before Richard dared go near his riding gear again, but during that time, they at least let him around the stables again. Hank still joined him most mornings to clear the fields and take out the horses, but he could now lead some of the more relaxed mares by himself. How generous…Despite his chagrin, Richard put up with it for a few weeks, but the more time passed, the more his shoulder healed. He could fully rotate it, and there weren’t even bruises anymore. Two months was just a guideline anyway, right? The first month had already passed, and he was probably fully healed already! With that in mind, Richard chose a Wednesday morning when Hank was busy and Allen hadn’t arrived to slip into his riding gear and head down to the stables.

Things were going just as planned. He’d chosen one of the more experienced, and better tempered, mares and tied her outside the stall to tack her up. Her saddle and bridle were on, he had his helmet on, and he was ready to go. As he walked her out, it crossed his mind that both Allen and Hank would be mad once they inevitably found out. It wasn’t like he’d be able to sneak around once he was actually up in the saddle. His stomach squirmed anxiously as he looked around the deserted yard. Hank was busy elsewhere, and Allen hadn’t arrived yet. He couldn’t even hear an approaching car. If I’m quick, Al might never know…

“I only have a month left! Riding won’t cause that much damage, right?” The mare, Treacle, snorted and scraped the ground in what seemed like agreement. Richard chuckled softly, patting her glossy neck. She was a pretty thing. Dark chestnut fur with a black mane and tail. Unlike most of the other mares, she was a guest. Her owners couldn’t get down to see her often, so Richard and Allen took turns exercising her. It seemed she’d missed him these past few weeks. Allen was notably heavier. “That’s right, yes…We know what we’re doing, don’t we, girl?” Treacle bowed her head and nosed his chest, accepting the teasing fingers that rubbed her cheeks in response.

Patting her neck and holding the reins steady, Richard moved to her side to climb up. This was it. After weeks of impatient waiting, he was finally going to get his foot in the stirrup and heave himself up. He wouldn’t go crazy. The doctors were right that another fall would undo all his healing. He’d just take her for a walk, maybe along some of the quieter roads where they wouldn’t be spooked by passing cars. That wasn’t really a concern all the way out here anyway. With that in mind, Richard licked his lips and gripped either side of the saddle. He slipped his foot in the stirrup and leaned forward, getting his weight settled in order to heave himself up. Counting in his head, he was just about to push off when a brawny arm took his waist and all but lifted him away from Treacle, who snorted and scraped the ground in protest before walking after him with clicking hooves.

“Oh-no you don’t!” Richard’s heart ended up somewhere in his stomach as Hank’s voice gruffed almost triumphantly in his ear. He almost stumbled as he was placed on his feet and turned to find Hank standing there with his hands on his hips. “I thought you were acting a little strange this morning.” Richard stammered an objection. He didn’t think he’d been that obvious! They’d cleaned the fields as usual, and then Hank had gone off to complete his rounds while Richard had returned to the house and changed into his riding gear. “Well?” Richard blinked.

“Well, what?”

“What do you have to say for yourself? You know you’re not allowed to ride for about another four weeks!” Richard glowered. Hank sounded far too much like Allen for his liking. Unlike Allen, he wasn’t actually angry though. For Hank, this was far more like a game. One he actually enjoyed playing. Richard grumbled under his breath, trying not to let the disappointment show on his face as he kicked the ground. Treacle was just as annoyed as she nosed Hank’s back, getting a hearty pat on the neck for her troubles.

“I wasn’t going to gallop or anything like that! Just take her around the quiet roads…” Richard folded his arms with a pout in his voice. He wasn’t a child, and he wasn’t incapable. He was an excellent rider and knew his own limits. Two months was more a guideline than anything else! His shoulder was already healed. If Allen wasn’t such a worrywart, he would have been riding again weeks ago! He knew his own body well enough to know he was healed. His shoulder didn’t hurt when he rotated it anymore, he didn’t need the sling, and he could lift things when he was allowed.

“You heard what the doctor said! Another fall now could undo all that healing. The fracture might be mostly healed, but another good knock now could split it wide open again, or worse!” Richard avoided Hank’s eyes. He knew he was right. Allen would have said as much. But it’s not like I was planning on racing the track! We were just going for a walk! That fall was the worst he’d had in years! What were the chances of having two big falls in such a short time? He was an experienced rider! He knew what he was doing! “It doesn’t matter that it’s only a walk! What if a car spooks her, hm? Or she gets a little excited and goes running off?” He’d chosen a good tempered mare to limit those risks! He wasn’t an idiot, though Hank was right that he couldn’t account for other people on the road.

“I’ll be careful! Just…thirty minutes!” There was more than a bit of a plea in his voice now.

“Oh-no, not a chance!” Richard yelped as he was summarily picked up and hoisted over Hank’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Fisting the back of his shirt, Richard tried to push himself up to glare over his shoulder as Hank started walking. Losing his grip, he flopped over Hank’s shoulder to stare at his booted feet as a firm hand gripped the back of his knees to keep him safe. Feeling indignant, Richard gripped Hank’s belt and lifted his head enough to see Treacle walking after them as they headed across the yard.

“Hey! What are you doing? Put me down!” He would have kicked his legs, only he didn’t want to risk falling. Hank chuckled and patted his ass, leaving his hand there to stroke and squeeze, much to Richard’s indignation. “Where are you taking me?” They weren’t heading to the house. They were heading away from the stables. Across the yard. With a sharp gasp, Richard started squirming, heat rising to his cheeks. They were going to the barn. He was even more mortified as he heard the familiar sound of Allen’s car arriving in. He wasn’t sure if it was good or bad that he didn’t see it before Hank got him inside the barn and shut the heavy door behind them. “Don’t even think about it!” They hadn’t been in the barn since the last time.

“You want to ride something, right? I’m giving you what you wanted!” Richard thumped his back in retaliation, though his fists did little besides making Hank laugh. “Easy now! I don’t want you to fall.” His heart pounded as he gripped Hank’s shirt, watching in horror as the ground started getting further away. He tensed as Hank climbed, keeping as still as possible until he set him on his ass in the loft and got to his feet. Richard scooted away across the straw covered floor, silently glaring until his back met a wooden surface. “I’ve been wanting to get you back out here…” Richard remained where he was and drew his knees up.

“I told you, I’m not doing that again!” It was too risky, being left up here for hours on end, alone and defenceless. Last time had been a disaster! He’d never felt so embarrassed! What if he’d wet himself? What if Allen had found him? The thought made his cheeks burn.

“But you broke the rules again.” Richard balked. This wasn’t part of the rules! He was about to say as much, only Hank chose that moment to lift him to his feet and press his back against the sloped edge of the wooden box and devour his lips. It didn’t take more than a few heated presses to have Richard gripping his shirt and pulling him closer, little mewls rumbling in his throat the whole time. Hank cursed against his lips, pushing so close his whiskers grazed his lips. Leaving him dazed against the box, Hank leaned back a little. “Come on…I’ll let you choose.” Richard balked. As if he was going to choose which torture device he was strapped into!

“Not a chance!” Hank smirked as he slipped a hand between his legs to palm his already hardening cock. It was obvious in the tight riding pants, rigid and aching to be touched. Richard moaned softly and gripped Hank’s shirt.

“Well, I can’t trust you to do as you’re told, so keeping you up here is the only option.” That was a weak excuse, and they both knew it. Stepping back a little, Hank gave him an open view of the room and let his dark eyes wander around it. There was the odd suspension stockage that looked pretty uncomfortable, the stall he’d been strapped in last time, the box he was leaning against, multiple ropes and chains, and that odd restraining chair he’d seen before. The one he could be strapped into with his thighs spread wide open and fucked by either Hank or one of the freestanding electric sex machines. His ears turned red as Hank’s blue eyes met his. The hand on his cock tightened, sliding higher to trace the seam of his ass. “Want your hole filled, hm?” Richard thumped his shoulder and glowered. Hank smirked, taking his silence as a yes.

“W-wait!” Richard gripped Hank’s upper arms, stumbling slightly as he was walked backwards across the loft towards the ominous-looking chair. It had a leather seat and high back, with moveable legs rests attached to it that could be altered to spread its victim open. The high back could also stand or recline, offering many angles for whatever play was happening. At the top of the chair were thick wrist cuffs, and there was a strap that could go across the chest as well. Hank paused his onslaught of insistent kisses and stopped walking to look down at Richard with a questioning air. “I-I don’t want to be left alone up here for god knows how long again!”

“I said I was sorry about that!” Sorry or not, Richard hadn’t forgotten. Hank looked a little guilty as he ran a hand through his hair, still rubbing circles on Richard’s waist. “Alright, I’ll look in every hour or so, alright?” Richard still wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of being left alone and vulnerable for anyone to find. Hank huffed fondly as if reading his mind and did his best to distract him. He peppered his lips with gentle kisses, lingering longer and longer until he felt his body relax. A moan slipped out as he rubbed Richard’s cock through his tight slacks and moved to squeeze his ass. It was ripe for a fucking, but that wasn’t his immediate plan. The thought almost made him smirk as he unclipped Richard’s helmet and pulled it off.

They drew back long enough for Hank to set it down carefully. He was pretty sure Richard would kill him if he tossed his riding gear. The next thing to go was the quilted riding jacket. It was nice. Dark green with gold buttons. After that was the tight white top beneath. Hank backed Richard between the leg rests of the chair until his back was resting against the edge of the high seat, which was at the perfect height for Hank’s cock. That little detail didn’t slip Richard’s notice as he found himself trapped against the seat. He gripped the leather edge nervously as Hank kissed his way down his bare chest to the waist of his slacks. Ignoring them, he dropped to his knees and unzipped his riding boots, removing them carefully one by one. Only then did he finally reach up and strip Richard of both those tight white slacks and the black pants beneath.

“Fuck, look at you. So eager already.” Richard hissed as Hank’s rough hand gripped his cock and stroked back and forth. “Can’t wait to get your ass filled, can you?” Hank didn’t give him time to answer as he stood and lifted him on to the chair. Now that they were at kissing height, Hank lavished him with urgent kisses, nipping his lips and teasing his tongue. It was only as they parted that Richard became truly anxious. What the fuck was Hank planning to do? He was afraid to ask as Hank drew back to smirk at him. “Let’s get you all strapped up, hm?” Richard couldn’t help feeling nervous as Hank stroked his thighs and had him lean against the leather back rest. “Don’t worry…I’ll get you good and snug.”

Richard twitched nervously as Hank trailed a hand down his right thigh and lifted his leg into the curved rest. His calf rested comfortably in the leather cradle and Hank tightened the straps until they were flush against his skin, making it impossible for him to pull free. He smirked as he looked down at him and moved on to his left leg. Richard stiffened in his seat as Hank circled his open legs to stand beside him. A yelp slipped out as the backrest dropped to leave his body leaning at a gentle incline, putting him at eye level with his spread thighs.

“Don’t be so jumpy…Just relax!”

“Easy for you to say,” Richard grumbled, feeling even more anxious as Hank took his left wrist and raised it above his head. Looking up, he watched as Hank strapped his wrist to the top of the backrest, leaving his arm bent at the elbow. Leaning back as he was, it was actually quite comfortable. The second wrist soon joined the first, and Hank stepped back to admire his handiwork. Fuck, he could sink in right now. He was pretty sure Richard wouldn’t complain. He’d take his cock, held open and barely able to move as he was fucked until Hank came and left him there all day with jizz dripping out of his ass. Tempting as it was, he had a better idea.

“Let’s get those legs spread properly.” Richard squirmed as Hank stepped between his thighs again and unlocked the bars. He could move them in and out to curl his thighs more, move them up and down to tilt his ass back further, and swing them wider. Hank widened them first, pushing until Richard winced and moving back just enough so it didn’t hurt. That still meant Hank could press flush against his ass and still have space on either side. “Fuck, you’re so flexible.” Richard glared, his cheeks colouring at the jibe. “I’m not complaining!” Hank chuckled as Richard clicked his tongue and looked away before bending his thighs more. By the time he was done, Richard was spread like a Christmas turkey with his knees above his hips. To stop him from slipping, Hank hooked the strap over his chest and tightened it. “You look good…”

“Yeah, right…” Richard avoided his gaze as he circled him and appeared at the end of the chair with his phone. It was almost humiliating how his cock twitched with interest as Hank snapped a photo. Looking around, Hank smirked as he dragged the horse box closer and balanced his phone on it. “What the fuck are you doing?” Hank, who had his back turned, flipped the camera so it filmed outwards and positioned it, zooming in until he had a good view of Richard strapped in the chair. It was just high enough to give him a good view of everything. His ass, his cock, and his face.

“Well, since you like being on camera so much…” Richard clicked his tongue and looked away. Unfortunately, that meant he lost track of Hank as he disappeared across the loft. Listening, Richard could hear his heavy boots thudding across the straw covered floor. There was some scraping and clattering and Hank returned with one of the fucking machines and a silicone attachment. He made a deliberate show of it as he dropped to one knee and set it up, making sure Richard had a good look as he turned it on. Richard squirmed as the cock started moving back and forth with a smooth glide. It even twisted, something that would really grind his walls.

“H-hey! I’m not sure…” They both knew what he was like once he got going. There was no way he’d be able to keep quiet. Hank smirked and enjoyed the way Richard squirmed. That was half the fun. If he didn’t want to be discovered, he’d have to learn to control that pretty mouth of his.

“Just be grateful I’m not attaching the milker, too.” Richard balked as his cock twitched. “Maybe next time,” Hank added as he stroked his dripping cock. Richard shivered, whining softly as Hank continued to palm and tease him. Leaning between his thighs, Hank kissed him, nibbling his lips and teasing his tongue until he was soft and breathless. Drawing back, he enjoyed the dazed look on his face before dropping to his knees and getting to work properly. Richard couldn’t help feeling exposed as he noticed the phone, though he couldn’t really see the screen from where he sat. He didn’t need to see it to know it was filming. Aimed at his ass, capturing each twitch of his cock and every broken mewl. He twitched as Hank’s weathered hands squeezed and stroked his thighs and his lips kissed a trail up to his balls.

“H-Henry!” He didn’t even hesitate before taking them in to suck and tease his sack. His tongue was merciless, poking and prodding the soft globes until Richard’s thighs quivered. His ass and back were already getting sweaty enough to stick to the leather, something that only got worse as Hank licked along his perineum all the way to his tight little asshole. Richard moaned softly as he looked down to find Hank’s silver head bobbing between his thighs, blue eyes glancing up occasionally to gauge how he was doing. Hank smirked as he moved closer, swirling the tight ring and pushing inside to lick the inner edges. Richard couldn’t help it as he tried to buck his hips, using the leg rests to lift his ass for more.

“Attaboy, Richie,” Hank praised as he drew back and grabbed a tube of thick gel. Richard openly moaned as Hank coated his fingers and pushed inside. He didn’t even have to start with one finger anymore. Richard was naturally stretched to expect two these days. The passage closed around him, sucking the probing digits deeper. Hank chuckled as he watched Richard move with him, jerking and grinding his hips against the leather, which was soon smeared with lube. “That’s it…Relax…” Richard whined softly, letting his head fall back against the padded leather as Hank fingered him open. His cock twitched, slapping his pelvis and leaving sticky smears as it dripped.

“W-Wait! I-I don’t think-” Richard cut off with a gasp as the rubbery tip stretched his entrance. Hank chuckled softly, moving slowly as he fed the attachment in by hand. It was almost as big as he was, but much harder. It felt a little odd being stretched by the silicone dildo. Though it was shaped like a cock, and even had artificial veins, it was harder and colder. Hank watched carefully, blue eyes alert for any sign of pain. He could tell it was a little uncomfortable, but Richard hadn’t winced or hissed yet. Once the attachment was fully seated, he didn’t worry so much. Richard shuddered as Hank shoved the attachment as deep as it would go and set up the electronic arm.

“Let’s get this show on the road.” Richard balked as Hank turned it on, dark eyes widening in shock as the cock in his ass pulled out in one smooth motion, only to return moments later. Hank chuckled as Richard’s legs pulled at the restraints and his ass tried to squirm away, even as the cock stroked his inner walls. His lips parted in a helpless whine, cock twitching with interest despite his mortification. The chair was immovable. He was trapped. Defenceless. Helpless. His cock stiffened at the thought. “Fuck, look at you…Taking it like a champ.” Hank leaned down to play with the settings a little, making the cock twist and grind his passage with each smooth thrust. Richard moaned, staring at Hank with pleading eyes as he was fucked, restrained and spread open in the chair. A feast for Hank’s aged eyes.

“H-Henry!” The machine wasn’t brushing his spot, but it was still building him up. Each grind of his walls sent sparks of pleasure shooting through his pelvis, which tightened and tightened, ready to overflow. Hank stepped aside and palmed himself. His cock was already hard, and he was tempted to fuck Richard right then and there, but he stuck to the plan. Richard whined as Hank leaned over and kissed his temple.

“Enjoy your toy, honey. I’ll come back and check on you soon.” Richard shook his head. Don’t leave! With a smirk, Hank waved and headed to the edge of the loft.

“H-Henry! D-don’t you-uhn!” Squirming was making it worse, or perhaps better. It almost brushed his spot that time. Richard’s thighs quivered, arms pulling at the cuffs above his head as Hank slipped over the edge of the loft. He hated the fact that part of him revelled in his own helplessness. I-I do not!

“I’ll be back, promise! Don’t worry about holding back; come as much as you like.” Richard glared as Hank disappeared. As if he was going to come! He’d knock the damned thing over before he let that happen! Lifting his ass, Richard tried to squirm free, but the cock was too deep for him to fully pull off, and all his squirming did was allow it plunge in at a new and utterly delicious angle that had him mewling like a ferret in heat. “Not too loud now, Richie. Allen’s outside, remember?” Richard whined softly, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes. I’m not going to come…I’m not going to come, and I’m not going to moan.

There was another chuckle as the barn door creaked open and clattered shut. The bolt slid across, telling him he was now locked inside. Fuck! Sitting up was impossible with the chest strap. He twisted this way and that, trying to pull his arms free, but the cuffs were too strong and too tight. The cock plunged in, forcing him to clench his teeth or risk another loud moan. His cock was dripping, twitching and bobbing on his pelvis with each thrust. Richard tried not to think about it as he turned his attention to his strapped legs. One by one, he tried to pull them free, but all that did was change the angle of the relentless cock. He threw his head back with a helpless moan, gasping and panting as he tried to catch his breath. Fuck…It felt so good. Looking up, he could see his bound wrists. It was impossible to pull free. His arms quivered, cock twitching at his own helplessness.

A new thought crossed his mind. He had permission. Hank said it was alright. I’m not some fucking animal! I’m not going to fuck myself on this…thing! Richard all but glared at the camera, refusing to give Hank the satisfaction of seeing him fall apart. Turning his face, he held his breath and did his best to ignore the slick in and out slide of the rubbery cock. How it stroked and teased his walls with that delicious twist. How the tip was so close to bumping that one little spot if he just moved his ass a little more.

Swallowing, Richard licked his lips. He was getting hot. Sweat beaded his skin and trickled down his neck. His back and ass were sticking and slipping on the leather. His thighs twitched and trembled. Richard blinked at the camera with dazed eyes and whined softly. He wasn’t even sure how long it had been, but it didn’t feel like Hank had left that long ago. His cock was ready to burst, but he wouldn’t let it. No way was he giving Hank the satisfaction. No way…Not a chance…And yet he could feel it. The tip of the attachment was almost right on top of that one little spot. It was so close. If he could just move his hips a little…

His head fell back with a keening mewl as he nudged his hips and a sharp jolt of pleasure swept through his insides. Fuck, it felt so good. Panting, he lifted his hips again, meeting the cock with another whine. His own cock twitched, pearly drops beading at the flushed tip. Richard watched and held his breath as the first drip fell free and trickled down his shaft to be lost in the dark curls below. He bit his lip, unable to resist the urge to rock into the thrusting cock. His lips parted in an urgent gasp as he ran out of breath, dark eyes staring at Hank’s phone almost accusingly. This is your fault!

“H-Henry!” The name slipped out as a helpless plea as he squirmed again, taking the cock with a helpless whine. Hank was right. Allen was out there somewhere. He had to put a stop to this and quiet down, but the tide of pleasure was rising, ready to crash. His hips jerked faster, frustrated with the cock that was stuck at a single, steady pace. “F-fuck!” It rammed that spot again, almost bringing tears to his eyes as he rocked into it. G-good…Helplessness swept through him again. How he was strapped in the chair, spread wide open with a cock ploughing his ass and no way to stop it. It wasn’t his fault, right? Hank had done this. He was a victim of circumstance. The cock grinding his passage was going to make him come, and Hank’s phone had a bird's-eye view of the show. F-fuck! He came with a helpless mewl, thick pearly release shooting right up to his chest and catching his cheek. N-no…H-Henry!

The cock didn’t stop. He’d come, and the cock didn’t stop! Richard whimpered as the grind in his passage continued. His whole body trembled with aftershocks that didn’t stop as the thrusts abused that one spot. Shit-fuck-fuck-fuck-His ass was tender now, though it wasn’t quite painful. It was more like everything felt more sensitive since his orgasm. He could feel the cool air caressing his nipples and had the urge to pinch them. With his arms trapped, all he could do was squirm and whine. He stopped squirming straight away. His ass was too sensitive. If the cock brushed his spot again, he swore he was going to see stars.

“H-Henry…” It was a broken whine as he tugged at the leg restraints, helplessly trapped. It was too much, but he could feel his tired cock twitching again already. He whined, watching more pearly fluid spill on his pelvis. How could his cock be interested so soon? He’d barely come two minutes ago! Even his arms were quivering now as he leaned back in the seat and gazed at the phone with a helpless whine. It was worse than having the plug in his ass. At least that hadn’t pounded so relentlessly. Fuck, I’m going to fucking kill him! Despite thinking that, Richard couldn’t help wondering what Hank would do when he returned and found him like this, wrecked and covered in his own come. His cock twitched again at the thought.

Chapter Text

Hank cursed under his breath as he climbed into the loft and saw him. He’d been away maybe a little longer than the hour promised. Maybe closer to two hours, if not a little more. Checking on the sheep took longer than he’d expected, especially since he’d found a broken fence plank on the forest side. Luckily, only two sheep had wandered a little way into the trees. Sixty had his eye on them, but Hank wanted them back in the field, so Connor dashed into the trees to round them up. Of course, that unsettled the rest of the herd, so Hank had to move them on to the next field and let them calm down while he gathered what he needed to fix the broken fence. He’d almost forgotten Richard by the time he finished. Almost. It was hard to forget what a gift he had waiting.

It looked like the experience had been too much for Richard so far. He looked like he was sleeping. His eyes were closed, and the only sign that he could feel anything at all was the twitching of his lower body as the relentless cock sank into his ass. Fuck, he was a sight to behold. His skin was glistening, muscles twitching with overstimulation, and his cock was half hard, giving a weak twitch with each thrust. There was a thick layer of pearly release splashed across his torso. So much that Hank knew he’d come at least two or three times. It had made multiple trails along his abs and chest, some of it smearing his neck and cheek, and still more was dripping down his sides to the straw below.

Glancing at his phone, Hank smirked. The screen was still lit, so it was still recording. He’d have quite a show to watch later. For now, it was about time he woke Richard so he could enjoy him properly. First things first, he couldn’t let him dehydrate. Cracking a bottle of water, Hank approached the bound figure and gently ran his fingers through his hair. He didn’t want to rouse him too roughly. The brunette locks were damp, sticking to his forehead as Hank brushed them aside and teased his ear. The gentle rousing soon did its job. Taking a deeper breath, Richard turned his head with a groggy hum and winced. The attachment was still glistening, so Hank put the accompanying whine down to overstimulation, which didn’t get any better as Richard roused further.

“H-Henry-uhn!” Fuck, that broken little mewl sounded good. It was a good thing he’d clued Allen in earlier and told him to ignore anything he heard. They both knew Richard would be embarrassed if he realised how loud he was being. His chestnut eyes were glittering as he looked up, and his whole body shuddered as Hank gently stroked his sticky cheek to get rid of some of the pearly smears. He whined again, a dry, cracked sound that quickly reminded Hank of the bottle in his hand.

“Hey, Richie. I brought you some water. Come on,” he encouraged softly as he cradled Richard’s heavy head and tipped the bottle. A little trickled down his chin, making him shiver at the cold on his skin. He was parched. Half the bottle went within a few seconds. “Fuck, honey, it looks like you came three times!” The colour in Richard’s cheeks suggested it was more. Hank chuckled softly as he ran his fingers through the smears on his chest and made a show of sucking them off, which brought a delightfully wanton look to Richard’s face. “Still good?”

Though wary of how he winced, the colour in his cheeks suggested that it was. Hank left an opening, waiting for some sort of objection or request. That he didn’t get any suggested that, whatever he would inevitably say later to deny it, Richard was still enjoying it. His cock was certainly into it. It was almost at full mast. Chuckling, Hank helped him finish the water and tossed the empty bottle aside. Now that he was more awake, the sensitivity had returned. His hips squirmed, unable to escape the delicious grind in his passage, making him pant and gasp for breath, pulling weakly on the restraints.

“H-Henry, p-please!” Richard wasn’t sure what he was asking for. It felt like he’d been on edge for hours. His whole body was thrumming with pleasure, but he was tender. His muscles were sore and tired, and his passage was so sensitive it was almost painful. Almost. Right now, his body was in the middle of a rise. His core was tight with pleasure, his cock twitching with interest as he nudged his hips and the rubbery tip rammed into his prostate. It was so sensitive at this point that he almost spilled just from that, and his thighs twitched and shuddered.

“Fuck, look at you…” Hank remained at his side and smirked as he glanced at the camera. Richard whined softly, giving him a pleading look. “What do you want, Richie? You want me to touch you?” Richard gave a weak whine of agreement, still staring up at him with something akin to adoration in his dark eyes. Hank chuckled as he moved to stroke his cheek, taking the time to properly wipe away the smears with his sleeve. “Where? Here?” Hank nuzzled his now relatively clean cheek, letting his stubble scratch and tickle the smooth surface. Richard gasped and twitched, though something in his expression suggested that wasn’t quite it. Smirking, Hank moved lower to nibble along his jaw until he reached his ear. “Tell me where, Richie,” he whispered, licking the shell and nipping the lobe.

“D-don’t tease!”

“But I’m so good at it!” Hank chuckled at the glare he was receiving, but that look quickly disappeared as rough fingertips finally reached his pecs. “Fuck, look at these buds…I bet it’s been driving you mad, being stuck there with no way to touch them…” He knew he was right as Richard gasped and arched his spine. A loud moan slipped out as the change in angle drove the pounding cock deeper. Hank cursed under his breath and loosened his jeans, desperate to get a hand on his own cock. “You going to let me see you, honey? Let me see you come.” Richard whined, clearly embarrassed as his body twitched.

“Henry, I want-” A sharp whine cut him off as Hank’s thumb moved to circle one of the tender buds. Smiling, Hank kissed his temple and returned to his ear, letting his hot breath tease the shell.

“And I’m going to give it to you. As soon as you finish.” Richard moaned, turning his flushed face away as Hank teased him. Chuckling, Hank kissed his way down to his pecs, where he licked and nibbled the sensitive buds. They were salty with sweat and sticky release, which soon made its way into Hank's whiskers as he sucked and licked. The taste made him groan as he fisted his cock and pumped, enjoying the way Richard jerked and squirmed beneath him, unable to escape the onslaught of pleasure.

“F-fuck! Fuck-Henry-please-fuck-fuck!” Fuck, he was a vocal little thing. Good job he’d already told Allen what was going on, otherwise he would have come running, thinking something was wrong. Hank released his cock to pinch and roll both of Richad’s tender buds as his hips started jerking.

“That’s it, Richie. Just like that, let me see you.” Throwing his head back, Richard spilled with a whimper, though it was a pitiful spurt this time, just a small stream that splashed his abs and trickled down his waist. “Fuck, you’re doing so well. You’re so good.” Richard’s body fell limp with relief as Hank finally stepped between his thighs and turned off the throbbing attachment. As soon as it turned off, Richard’s body started twitching with fatigue and overstimulation. He almost cried as the rubber cock was removed, but then Hank was between his thighs, rubbing lube on his own very real cock. Richard let out a pitiful whimper at the sight. “You ready?”

“Y-yeah.” His own cock was spent, lying limp and pathetic on his thigh, and his muscles were shuddering with overuse. Tingles shot across his skin, which almost seared as Hank’s rough hands gripped and squeezed his thighs. Really, he was beyond tired, but this is what they’d both been waiting for. The first press was almost too much. Hank’s cock stretched his ass as it usually did, pushing the walls to their limits, but it was a lot softer than the rubber attachment from earlier. There was something familiar, even homely, about the way Hank’s cock slipped inside like it belonged there. A feeling of relief swept through him as he was finally filled.

Hank seemed to be enjoying it just as much as he was. A low, rumbling groan crooned in his throat as he sank in to the hilt and stopped. Richard’s passage was soft and loose around him, a warm, welcoming sheath for his eager cock. The glide was slick and smooth with the lube from earlier. His thighs were soon smeared with it as he met Richard’s glossy ass. Greedy hands gripped the soft flesh, smearing and massaging the sticky mixture of lube and semen into the skin. Richard mewled helplessly as he was fucked.

It was different this time. Hank’s cock was much softer than the silicone attachment, less rigid and ungiving. It soothed his abused walls as he rocked in, driving deeper than the silicone attachment could reach. Hank smirked at the salacious sounds that fled Richard’s lips, a cross between a blissful moan and a sigh of relief. Despite his fatigue, he still rocked and jerked his hips, eager to meet him. The slap of Hank’s pelvis on his ass was ultimately more satisfying than the relentless, clean glide of the earlier attachment.

“Fuck, you’re so good! That toy really loosened you up for me. Can you feel it? Can you feel how warm and soft you are for me?” Richard whined in response, lifting and dropping his ass in time with Hank's thrusts and following the guiding hands on his ass. The top buttons of Hank’s shirt had come loose, and his jeans were bunched around his knees, but besides that he was still fully dressed. It was almost teasing the way his collar had loosened to show off a few stray silvery curls, but no more. Richard whined as Hank leaned closer, resting his clothed belly against his limp cock. Their lips met in eager kisses, and Hank’s greedy hands squeezed and stroked anything he could reach, leaving sticky prints all over Richard’s body.

“H-Henry-fuck-fuck me!”

“Alright, honey. I’m here, I’m with you. Can you feel me? Yeah?” Richard nodded, tears hovering at the corners of his eyes. Hank hushed and cooed softly as he leaned in and littered his lips with gentle kisses. Fuck, this little ferret was going to be the death of him. He could feel the cock between them weakly trying to twitch to life. It was a wonder he could manage after all the times he’d come already. “Where is it, honey? Right there?” Richard nodded, little squeaks escaping with each thrust as Hank finally found his spot.

The admission was enough to drive Hank mad, hips snapping loudly and ramming Richard’s ass into the leather seat below. Chestnut eyes widened as he spilled between them, bringing a clearer fluid than usual. Hank was surprised he’d managed, considering he wasn’t even half hard. From the way his body was shuddering, he was still coming, so Hank dutifully sank in and jabbed that spot again and again until he finally fell limp and dazed against the leather. The sight of that was enough to make Hank spill, making him curse into Richard’s shoulder as he leaned over and peppered kisses up and down his neck.

“Richie…Hey, you falling asleep on me?” Hank teased, still panting as he pushed himself up. Richard’s eyes were almost fully lidded, his body still twitching with aftershocks where Hank was still embedded. A small hum slipped out, which almost sounded like an agreement. Pushing himself up with a chuckle, Hank pulled out and started loosening all the straps. Richard didn’t even seem to notice until his arms fell free, at which point he groaned and rotated the stiff joints. They didn’t really hurt, but he’d been strapped like that, tugging and pulling, for quite a while. He didn’t even know how long. It felt like fucking hours!

It seemed Hank had come relatively prepared. He couldn’t clean up and shower in the loft, but a soft towel was soon wiping his sticky skin, getting the worst of it off. It took a little time, but Richard was soon back in his tight pants and boots, with his jacket slung over the top. He only really needed to be decent enough to run across to the house in case Allen saw them. Even if he saw, Hank knew he wouldn’t say anything. It was Allen who’d helped him set up the loft in the first place. He knew exactly what they were getting up to in there.

It was barely three in the afternoon, but as the seasons changed, the sky was already dimming overhead. It was a pretty grey day too, which didn’t help. Richard was surprised, when they stepped out, that Hank’s hand on his back steered him towards the backyard. It would be faster to go to the front of the house. It became obvious once they turned the corner that Hank didn’t intend to take him home at all. He was leading him across the yard towards the fencing that divided their properties, where Connor was already waiting with his paws on the fence. Richard slowed a little, bringing Hank to a stop as well.

“Come to my place…I can take care of you there.” Richard’s brow furrowed indignantly.

“Take care of? I’m not an invalid!” His ass was a little sore now, sure. And his muscles were aching from the earlier strain, but besides that he was fine! He stumbled a little as Hank pulled him into his arms and kissed him senseless. Part of him was determined not to be taken in by such advances, but the other part was happily losing itself in a tangle of eager lips and roving hands. Hank cupped his cheek with one hand and rubbed his thumb in small circles. His skin was still a little sticky from their previous activities.

“I know, but I want to spoil you a little.” They could do that just as well at his house. “Don’t worry, Sumo and Connor are good boys. They won’t bother you.” Maybe they wouldn’t, but all his stuff was at his house, and he’d need a change of clothes. But if Hank comes to my house, he’ll also need a change of clothes.

“Alright, but I really need a shower.” Hank huffed fondly as he wrapped an arm around him and headed for the fence.

“I figured as much.” Richard wasn’t going to say anything, but he was also pretty wiped. Exhausted was more like it. He was too tired to even flinch as Connor padded excited circles around them. Hank let out a quick whistle and sent him zipping across the yard while he helped Richard over the fence. With Richard safely nestled in the crook of his arm, Hank guided him up to the house, where Sumo stood to greet him. “Are you hungry?” Hank asked as they entered the house, but Richard shook his head. He was too tired to be hungry. It seemed Hank understood as he lifted and carried him straight up to the bathroom, where he set him by the large tub. As soon as the water was warm enough, he lifted Richard in and knelt beside him, stroking his hair and kissing his temple.

He spoke in hushed tones, speaking just enough to stop him from falling asleep. His large hands were soothing as they worked soap into his tired limbs and shampoo into his hair. Warm water trickled over his head as Hank tipped a full jug over his head to rinse him. Richard moved as guided, getting to his knees and lifting his arms and legs as asked. Soon, he was wrapped in a fluffy towel and carried to the bedroom. Hank dried him off, but didn’t bother to offer him clothes before ushering him into the large bed.

The sheets were fresh. A nice clean cotton smell reached Richard’s nose as he shuffled lower and nestled his head in the pillows. It was nice. The room wasn’t too hot now the weather was cooling, and it smelled like Hank. The scent of wet dog was weaker here, a sign that they usually kept to the lower floor. That was something of a relief as Richard closed his eyes. He didn’t need to worry. He felt safe. A weathered hand stroked his damp locks and a gruff voice mumbled something about getting him some clothes. Richard hummed some form of permission and turned over. He was asleep before the door closed.

Chapter Text

Richard whined softly as he opened his eyes. Pain assaulted his senses the moment he tried to move. His upper arms, abs, back, and legs ached like he’d ridden a hundred miles! He could feel muscles he didn’t even realise he had! His lower back was the worst. Even the smallest movement made him gasp and whimper. His back wasn’t the only thing. His ass stung like a bitch. He dreaded the moment he’d need to use the bathroom. Fuck-fuck-fuck-Never again! He almost glared as he turned his head to find Hank sleeping peacefully, without a care in the world. He kicked him, whining at the ache that shot through his body with the effort.

“Mm-wha-uh?” Hank barely lifted his face from the pillow with a startled grumble, blinking blearily in the dark grey of morning. Breathing deeply, he gave Richard a sleepy smile of greeting, which slowly dropped as he focused in on his glaring face. “What happened? Are you alright?” He was more alert in an instant, pushing himself up enough to turn on the bedside lamp. A dim glow filled the room, making both of them wince for a few seconds.

“Hurts…Everything fucking hurts!” There were tears in his eyes already as Hank reached over to rub circles on his aching stomach. His hand withdrew as Richard hissed. It was too tender to touch. Hank frowned as he tossed the duvet back and reached for his pants, though Richard couldn’t enjoy the view. He was too busy squeezing his eyes shut and breathing through the pain. It was worse than breaking a bone. At least when he broke a bone, it was usually only one! He couldn’t even turn over it hurt so much!

“When you say everywhere…” Richard’s expression was murderous as he glared at him. He was seriously thinking about how accessible his ass was at a time like this? He’d just told him he was in pain! It was fucking agony! “Alright-alright, I’ll get you some Ibuprofen.” Ibuprofen? He seriously expected that to be enough? “Muscle pain is always worst when you first wake up. It should go down in a while.” His real concern was the pain in his ass. He didn’t think he’d torn anything, but he’d have to convince Richard to turn over at some point and let him see. Maybe he’s just a little tender from overuse…He couldn’t help feeling guilty as he reminded himself whose fault it was that he was overused. Luckily, he’d bought some soothing cream a few weeks back in case of such an emergency.

Richard whined and whimpered helplessly as Hank helped him sit up, stacking pillows behind his back so he could lean against the metal bedframe. He cursed under his breath as he accepted the glass and pills, hoping they were at least strong ones as he swallowed them. Despite knowing they wouldn’t actually kick in for about thirty minutes, his body already felt a little better now he’d moved. Hank was suitably apologetic as he sat beside him and took the half empty glass as he finished drinking. The kiss on his temple didn’t grant him forgiveness, but it was a nice start. Hank groaned as he looked at the clock. They were on Richard’s schedule again. It was too early.

“Oh, I’m so sorry my agonising pain woke you up!” Hank would have pointed out that it was the kick on his shin that woke him, but he didn’t want to sour Richard’s mood further. That was one thing he’d learned about Richard. Pain and boredom put him in a foul temper, made him really snappy and waspish. Folding his arms, Richard grunted and glared at the curtained window. Lounging sideways, Hank leaned his chin on one hand and gazed at the man beside him. He really was quite cute when he was angry, like a hissing ferret. He could almost imagine how his brown ears would twitch and his tail would swish.

“You know I didn’t mean anything by it. Do you want some breakfast? French toast? Pancakes?” Hank smirked at the way Richard’s lips thinned. He wasn’t one for cooking and eating himself, but having watched him all these months, Hank knew for a fact that his pancakes were Richard’s favourite and they soothed his poor temper every time. He also knew he would never ask for them or admit he wanted them himself. “Thin or fluffy?” It was always thin. “With lemon and sugar?” Of course with lemon and sugar. It was sort of endearing how his feet twitched in anticipation as Hank got to his feet. “And a pot of tea.” He knew Richard’s insides had turned to mush at the words.

Hank chuckled as he headed downstairs and greeted Sumo and Connor with pets and ruffles, immediately herding them to the back door to let them out. With loud snuffles and excited whines, they were off, racing across the porch and off through the yard to the dewy morning grass. Hank chuckled and shook his head as he headed through to the kitchen to get their breakfast ready. Connor was on hard kibble, something to keep his teeth clean and his coat glossy. Being older, Sumo had shifted to a softer diet. His kibble was easier to chew, with all the nutrients an older dog needed. By the time he’d refilled their water, the dogs had returned with wagging tails and eager barks. Connor hopped on his hind legs to get a look at the counter, confirming his food was there.

“Go on now, away with you!” Hank ordered as he grabbed the bowls and made his way to the back door. Sumo and Connor both followed, doing their best to walk alongside him without tripping him, their eyes fixed on the heavy china dishes. “Sit. Stay.” Sumo and Connor instantly did as they were told, each sitting at the opposite end of the porch. Hank started with Sumo’s bowl first, telling him to eat the moment he set it down. It was always better to give the older dog a head start, so he was done before Connor finished. Connor licked his chops and pawed the decking as Hank approached, dark eyes straying to Sumo almost resentfully. “Good boy, Con…Here you are.” Putting the bowl down, Hank let him tuck in and gave his ears a parting ruffle.

Now the dogs were sorted, it was time to clean up and get started on Richard. He whistled happily as he set out everything he needed and started the kettle. He’d made pancakes often enough to eyeball the measurements, and was soon whisking a nice runny batter. Starting the burner, he got the pan nice and hot with a healthy knob of butter before tipping in the first one. Most people would call these crepes, but his family had always called them pancakes. To him, crepes were usually just a bit thinner, and much larger. To keep the cooked pancakes warm, he turned on the oven and put two plates inside.

The kitchen was soon hot and smoky as he tipped and flipped, getting each pancake nice and brown on both sides before putting them on the plates in the oven. Six each should be enough. If Richard didn’t finish, he’d help him out later. Leaving the plates in the oven, Hank sliced two lemons, grabbed the sugar bowl and readied the tea set. Shooing Sumo and Connor out of the way, he managed to navigate the hall and get upstairs, where he left Richard to pour out the tea with his usual precision. It probably wasn’t as good as Richard’s tea, coming from tea bags, but he didn’t complain.

Back in the kitchen, Hank jammed the door open so Connor and Sumo could come and go as they pleased and carried a second tray upstairs laden down with pancakes. Unable to resist the whining and big brown eyes, Hank reluctantly parted with one pancake, ripping it in half and dividing it between the dogs. How they could be hungry when they’d just eaten, he had no idea, but there was nothing that would hurt them in the plain pancake. It was also a lot easier to escape once they were happily snuffling the scraps off the floor.

“Feeling better?” Hank teased as he kicked the door shut and sorted out the plates. Richard gave him a small frown, which Hank took as a yes. He always felt better once he had a cup of tea cradled in his hands. Removing the teapot and other items from the first tray, Hank set it across Richard’s lap and put his plate on it, along with the sugar bowl and one of the lemons. Soon, they were both sitting with trays over their laps, happily munching away on pancakes and sipping their morning tea.

Predictably, once he was more awake and his stomach was full, Richard’s mood settled. His body still ached like hell, but shuffling about in the bed was no longer torture as it had been before. Hank was also much more awake now, awake enough to head out on his rounds. He could tell Richard was a little put out by this. It wasn’t exactly fun being stuck in bed, and he would be stuck in bed that day. His body ached too much to even think of heading back to his place. Not that Hank was complaining. He sort of enjoyed having Richard stuck in his bed.

Before he left, Hank helped him through to the bathroom and brought him a random book to read. A crime novel. Hank didn’t read much himself, but he was pretty sure it would keep Richard occupied until he got back for lunch. He hoped to make it an early lunch. All he had to do was check in and feed the animals that day, so he could afford to take a little time off. The thought of what he’d do to Richard when he got back almost had him smirking as he settled him into bed and made sure he had everything he needed within reach, including the half-full teapot.

“I’ll be fine,” Richard grumbled as he hunkered down in the bed with his book and disappeared behind it, though he was a lot less grumpy now. Hank chuckled and left him with a parting kiss on the forehead, enjoying the way Richard’s feet twitched at the attention. Richard secretly watched around the edge of his book as Hank left, leaving the door open as he thudded down the stairs. With a call of Connor’s name and a whistle, he was gone. He didn’t shut the back door, but Richard could hear Connor barking in the yard, which signalled their departure. Something like disappointment settled in his chest as he lowered the book.

He was being silly. Hank was a farmer. The animals needed him. It wasn’t like he could just take a day off whenever he felt like it. They needed to be fed and their stalls needed to be cleaned. Despite that, he couldn’t help feeling a little wounded, being left by himself with his aching muscles. I’m being stupid and selfish. Dismissing the thought with a determined huff, Richard lifted his cup and took a sip. It was cooling rapidly, and the pot would too. With that in mind, he drained his small cup and poured himself another. It wouldn’t do to waste good tea, even if it did come from tea bags.

Sighing, he turned his attention to the book Hank had left him. It was a battered old crime novel, probably something that had been lying about the house for years. He didn’t mind crime dramas; they were at least interesting. With that in mind, he began reading in earnest, and soon lost himself in the grim, serial murder case alongside the detective. He was so engaged that he didn’t notice the quiet scratch of paws on the stairs, nor the laboured huffs as Sumo padded into the room. He did, however, notice the dip of the bed as his large front paws landed on Hank’s side.

“W-what are you doing?” Richard asked in alarm as he pushed himself up. His heart thudded loudly, bashing his ribcage in a mixture of surprise and alarm. Hank had assured him the dogs didn’t come upstairs, that he wouldn’t be disturbed. Sumo shuffled a little further onto the bed and rested his chin on the fresh cotton with a low whine. “I-is this what you do when Hank’s not here? Sneak up to use the bed?” The sneeze-like snuffle on the sheets was almost like an agreement. Sumo continued to gaze up at him, tail swishing slowly as if waiting for permission. “No…No-no-no, you just…stay there!” Richard hurriedly disappeared behind his book to escape the dark, pleading eyes.

Unfortunately, Sumo didn’t take the hint. His front paws remained on the bed. In fact, he slowly edged closer, as if he didn’t expect Richard to notice. Lowering the book, Richard shot Sumo a small glare, silently demanding he stay where he was. Knowing he’d been spotted, Sumo froze, but his tail was still wagging as he let out a low, pleading whine. Richard scoffed in disbelief. He really expected him to let him up on the bed where he and Hank slept? To let him get his fleas and dirty paws all over the white sheets? He probably doesn’t have fleas. Hank would surely take care of that. And his paws probably aren’t that dirty…Another whine reached his ears and Sumo nudged even closer. He was more than halfway onto the bed at this point!

“Y-you shouldn’t be up here!” His voice was less than authoritative. Sumo started panting, tail wagging faster as he lifted his chin. He almost looked like he was smiling. “Sumo!” The smallest of boofs slipped out, dark eyes glittering up at him. “Fine! Just…stay on that side.” The bed dipped as Sumo heaved his hind legs onto the bed and stretched out beside him. Despite how his heart was racing, Richard couldn’t help smiling behind his book as he listened to the happy snuffling beside him and felt the bed rock. Looking around his book, he found Sumo lying on his back, his tail wagging a mile a minute as he rolled from side to side, rubbing himself all over the sheets. “You’re ridiculous!”

Sumo paused at the light chuckle, head tilting as if weighing his options. Apparently deciding he didn’t have much to lose, he rolled sideways until he was almost resting against Richard’s side. Richard almost yelped as soft fur tickled his bare arm and pressed himself further back into the pillows. This is good. This is fine. Nothing to worry about…Just a hundred and fifty pound beast with sharp teeth huddling against your side…No problem. Swallowing, Richard looked down, watching warily as one large paw reached up to nudge his side.

“Y-you want something?” The second nudge was almost confirmation. Richard was reluctant as he slowly reached out to rest a hand on his fluffy neck. Sumo panted happily as Richard’s fingers started scratching back and forth, only pausing as he rolled onto his back. “Really? You expect me to touch you there?” Another snuffle shortly followed, and the paw on his arm pushed his hand lower. Richard swallowed nervously, tensing as he settled his hand on Sumo’s fluffy stomach and started rubbing gentle circles. Since Sumo’s mouth remained a respectable distance from his arm, Richard slowly relaxed and stroked a little harder.

His fur really was quite soft, and though he had claws and teeth, he didn’t seem inclined to use them. Sumo eventually seemed to have enough and rolled over to take a nap on Hank’s side of the bed. Taking that as a sign to stop, Richard finished his tea and settled down to read again. However, it wasn’t long before a cold nose brushed his elbow as Sumo rolled over to face him. Richard had no idea what he wanted as he gazed up at him and did his best to ignore him until that enormous head started nudging closer. Feeling that cold nose on his chest, Richard yelped and pulled the duvet higher, as if to give himself some modesty.

“Hey! I’m naked under here you know!” It seemed Sumo didn’t understand his indignation as he tilted his head and wormed his way under his arm. Setting the book aside, Richard nestled into against the pillows, now with Sumo’s head against his hastily covered chest. It seemed he wouldn’t be getting any more reading done as he set about teasing Sumo’s floppy ears and neck. The bed rocked slightly with the happy wags of Sumo’s tail. He was almost half lying on him at this point. Richard closed his eyes with a sigh, hoping that Hank would return to rescue him soon.

Chapter Text

Hank hoped Richard wasn’t too bored as he returned to the house with Connor on his heels. He’d been stuck in bed for a good three hours since he’d been busy on his rounds. He’d also run into Allen, who was sort of pleased to hear Richard would be out of action for a day or two. It meant he didn’t have to keep an eye on him. It also meant he’d had a good time the day before. Though Hank didn’t give away any of the juicy details, he could tell from the way he smirked that his friend had been treated to quite a salacious experience. He would also be getting thoroughly pampered as an apology.

The first thing Hank noticed as he entered was that Sumo wasn’t on the porch. He paused with a frown, looking over his shoulder to scan the yard. It was unusual for him not to be there. He had a chosen spot, right in front of the rickety old wooden bench that sat below the window. If he wasn’t in the yard, then he was probably in the kitchen getting some water. Connor had already run ahead, and seemed just as perturbed as he was that Sumo wasn’t downstairs. He padded around the living room and kitchen with his tail hanging low, snuffling his way along the carpeted floor to the foot of the stairs. Upstairs?

“Connor, stay.” Connor snuffled and padded off to the kitchen. He knew he wasn’t supposed to go upstairs, but so did Sumo. Hank’s brow furrowed as he made his way up to the landing, walking quietly and hoping not to alert Richard to Sumo’s presence. Ah, fuck. He’d left the bedroom door open. He’d hoped to shepherd Sumo downstairs without Richard knowing he was there, but if the bedroom door was open, chances were he’d gone inside. Hank continued walking with a resigned sigh, ready to voice a thousand apologies as he found Richard cowering in a corner somewhere, but as he reached the doorway, he couldn’t help but smile. Well, I’ll be! You sly old dog.

It looked like Sumo had worked his magic and won Richard over with his fluff and charm. Folding his arms and leaning on the doorframe, Hank took his time enjoying the sight. Sumo had managed to heave himself up onto the bed and weasel his way around Richard’s defences to nestle against his chest. Richard had fallen asleep at some point, his arm still loosely wrapped around Sumo’s neck where he’d been stroking him. Hank couldn’t resist as he took out his phone and snapped a picture from the doorway. It wasn’t the best angle, but he wanted at least one in case Richard woke up.

Luckily, Richard really was out like a light. Creeping around the bed, Hank managed to snap a couple of close-up shots before Sumo’s tired eyes blinked open. Signalling him to be quiet, Hank rested a hand on his head to keep him down. Now that Sumo was awake, the pictures were even cuter as he panted happily at the camera, still resting his head on Richard’s barely covered chest. Finally, Richard let out a sleepy hum and turned his head, prompting Hank to put his phone away and back up as if he’d just entered.

“Well-well-well, look at you two getting all cosy.” Richard didn’t even seem to notice at first as he rubbed his eyes, but he did visibly balk as he turned his head and came almost nose to nose with Sumo. Hank laughed heartily as Sumo instantly licked his nose, almost making Richard roll out of bed. Once he was over the initial shock, and wiped his nose on the duvet, Richard rested a hand on Sumo’s fluffy head and settled down again with a tired groan. “He didn’t bother you too much, did he?” Richard shook his head. He could hardly say he had when they’d been caught red-handed enjoying a late morning nap.

“He’s not so bad once you get used to him.” It was a grudging admission, but Hank would take it. Sumo seemed happy as well as he raised his head and wagged his tail. Hank chuckled fondly as he patted his fluffy flank. He had to get lunch started, but it wouldn’t be fair on Connor to let Sumo stay upstairs while he was confined downstairs. However, it seemed Richard was reluctant to part with Sumo as he continued rubbing his back and teasing his ears. It was an impressive change from a few weeks ago when he couldn’t make him go near any of his dogs.

“I’ll get lunch going. How does a ham sandwich sound?”

“Sounds great, thanks.” Hank backed out with a low chuckle, leaving Richard and Sumo to get the sandwiches ready. As compensation for being the only one downstairs, Hank kept Connor with him  in the kitchen and snuck him a few scraps of ham as he made the sandwiches, which were really more like baguettes since he was using long, crunchy bread. He made them with a healthy slather of butter, thin cuts of folded ham, and slices of tomato. On top of that, he added some fresh lettuce and cucumber with a single strip of thick mayonnaise. His own mouth was watering as he sliced the baguettes in half and grabbed two bottles of cold water from the fridge. At the bottom of the stairs, a low whine caught his ear, making him look over his shoulder with a resigned sigh.

Connor was standing at the bottom of the stairs, paws obediently on the floor below the bottom step. His ears had drooped, his tail was low, and his dark eyes were staring up like the world’s most wounded animal. Another high-pitched whine reached his ears as he sighed and glanced at the top of the stairs. Connor knew Sumo was up there somewhere, and he understood it wasn’t fair that he had to stay downstairs, but Hank wasn’t sure how Richard would react to Connor bounding into the bedroom as well. Looking at Connor, he knew there was no way he could leave him downstairs either.

“Alright, come on then, but don’t go jumping on the bed, alright?” Connor immediately perked up and planted one paw on the bottom step. When Hank continued going up with no reprimand, Connor followed gleefully. In the doorway, Hank paused to block Connor’s entry and give Richard time to voice any objections. “I hope you don’t mind, but…Connor was getting a little lonely downstairs.” Richard, who was now sitting up, leaned around Sumo to eye the collie in the doorway. Connor, it seemed, was on his best behaviour. He sat at Hank’s heels, panting and wagging his tail while waiting for permission to enter, despite being able to see Sumo already on the bed.

“I-I guess he’s okay.” It was a reluctant admission at best, but Hank would take it. Stepping inside, he led the way to the bed, keeping an eye on Connor at all times. Since they were eating, he shooed Sumo off the bed, where he settled on the floor by the window on Richard’s side of the bed. It didn’t take long for Connor to join him. Before he settled down, he padded over to Richard to sniff his hand and accept a few hesitant pats. Richard kept one eye on them as he accepted his sandwich, but they seemed content to lie together in a heap by the window.

“How long do you think he’s been sneaking up here behind my back?” Hank asked in an amused grumble as he nodded towards Sumo, who kept his head down looking innocent as can be.

“He was pretty comfortable coming in, so it certainly wasn’t the first time.” Richard really couldn’t say, but it did surprise him that Hank didn’t notice. “You really had no idea?” It seemed quite impossible that he hadn’t. Sumo was a long-haired dog. His fur would get everywhere. Maybe there was a slight argument that Hank was always covered in fur anyway, so he didn’t notice, but what about the bed? No way could he miss a dog sized pit in the duvet! Unless he doesn’t make the bed every day like I do…

“Not a clue! He’s usually down on the porch when I come home.” Sumo lifted his head as if he understood he was the topic of conversation. His tongue lolled out as he panted, jaws stretched into what seemed like a cheerful smile. Silence fell as they ate. Sumo and Connor were good as gold. They didn’t even beg. Sumo was old enough to know better, and Connor was well aware he’d been spoiled earlier. They also knew they weren’t supposed to be in the bedroom, so they were making the most of Hank’s good humour.

Hank kept one eye on Richard while he ate, quietly assessing him. Though his dark eyes occasionally strayed towards the dogs, he could tell their presence didn’t bother him as much as before. He was pretty relaxed overall. The pain in his muscles seemed to cause him more stress and discomfort than the dogs, making him wince as he twisted his body to pick up his bottle or when he lifted his arm to eat his sandwich. Hank waited until he was finished and lying back against the pillows to make his next move.

“Do your muscles still hurt?” He didn’t need to try to sound concerned. He was concerned. It was never his intention to leave Richard in discomfort. Richard’s brow furrowed slightly, dark eyes thinning as he shot him a small glare. Hank softened as he lounged beside him and propped himself on his elbow. “You want a massage? I have the oils and stuff…Might make it feel better.” Richard was highly suspicious. He was pretty sure there was a catch in there somewhere, and he wasn’t sure his body could handle whatever it was Hank had planned.

“I’m really tender right now, so if you’re thinking of getting handsy-”

“No-no! Well, not exactly. Hear me out!” Richard’s scowl deepened at Hank’s stammering and he folded his arms in defiance. “I just want to make you feel better, that’s all! The muscle pain is all my fault, so I want to help you out. I even bought some special cream for, uh, you know…” Richard’s cheeks flushed as he realised exactly where Hank was intending to put that cream. Seeing that he was about to object, Hank leapt into the opening. “It’ll feel a lot better afterwards! I looked it up, and people swear by this stuff.” He had looked it up, but he was mostly going by Allen’s recommendations. He was pretty seasoned when it came to this stuff.

“I’m in enough pain without you poking and prodding!”

“But look! It says it right here it’ll soothe the irritation and calm any swelling.” He was pretty sure Richard’s ass wasn’t swollen, at least not badly. He’d be a lot more miserable if it was. Richard’s cheeks were almost scarlet at this point he was so embarrassed. Hank softened further as he reached out to stroke his thigh through the duvet, keeping his touch light so it didn’t hurt too much. Still being stubborn, Richard spared him a wary glance. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before…I’ll be gentle, promise.” Hank wasn’t sure which part convinced him, but with a reluctant sigh, he finally nodded.

Hank sent Sumo and Connor downstairs. The last thing Richard wanted was an audience, even if it was just a couple of dogs. With a little coaxing, Hank soon had him lying on his back on top of the duvet. It made sense to start with the front. It hurt a lot less there, and it was a good way to ease him into it. Richard was already naked, and Hank slipped out of his jeans with the excuse of keeping the oil off his clothes. He kept his pants and shirt on as he returned with a bottle of soothing oil and slicked his hands.

Richard, with his head now flat at the foot of the bed, looked up nervously as Hank came to kneel on the floor above him. He started with his face, stroking his cheeks and massaging his temples in soothing circles. Richard slowly closed his eyes, quietly enjoying the sensation. It was nice. His head felt thick and fuzzy already as those rhythmic circles continued. Hank eventually went lower, stroking his nose and chin, and massaging along his jaw. The oil made Hank’s slightly rough hands a lot smoother as he stroked and teased, and Richard couldn’t help the small rumbles purring in his throat as he worked.

Hank’s lips softened as he watched Richard’s eyelids flutter. His face was relaxed besides the occasional twitch of his brow and his lips remained soft and slack. Little sounds remained trapped in his throat as he tried to hold back, unwilling to let Hank know how well he was doing. Hank smirked at the thought. He’d soon change that when he had him on his front. Richard’s body twitched and squirmed as Hank’s large hands closed over his throat and moved downwards. He was relatively trusting, keeping his eyes closed despite Hank’s hands closing on his delicate neck.

Once he reached his chest, Hank opened his hands and greedily stroked his pecs, deliberately working slow circles over the softer skin until his nipples pebbled against his palms. It was only as Richard dazedly opened his dark eyes that Hank moved lower, leaving glistening skin and curls in his wake. Since he’d moved on, Richard relaxed again and enjoyed the large hands currently circling his sides. So far it wasn’t painful, but he hadn’t really reached the more painful areas yet. Of all his strained muscles, his abs hurt the least. It was as Hank reached his thighs that the problems started.

“Easy, Richie.” Richard hissed as Hank gripped his right thigh and dug his thumbs into the tender muscles. The hiss soon became a mournful groan as Hank lingered, pushing and circling harder. He’d never been one for sports massages, and this was why. Hank wasn’t even digging in that much and it was already torture. “Come on honey, it’s not that bad.” Richard outright glared. Who was he to say how bad it was? He wasn’t the one lying there in agony! Hank chuckled softly, flattening his hands to rub up and down his thigh. “Better?”

“A little…Shit, that hurt.” Hank lingered on his thigh for a few minutes, gradually rubbing and pressing enough to make him relax. It still hurt, but true to his word, it was a lot less painful. The oil added a nice soothing glide and almost seemed to numb the pain a little. The twitching and whining returned as Hank tended to his left thigh, but things got a lot smoother when he stroked his shins and massaged his feet.

“Will you stay still?” Hank chuckled as Richard squirmed, almost pulling his foot free. Holding tighter, Hank dug his thumbs into the sole of Richard’s foot and enjoyed the little mewl that slipped out. He wasn’t sure if it tickled or hurt as Richard twitched and squirmed, but he was trying his best to stay still overall. Richard almost melted as Hank stretched his toes and teased his way between them. It felt nice and stopped him from cramping.

His arms were next. Hank was careful as he massaged his shoulders and moved slowly as he circled each joint. The most tender parts were his upper arms, though they were nowhere near as tender as his ass and thighs. Most of the strain had been in his lower body. As a result, he stayed relatively still as Hank pressed and circled his way down to his wrists. Richard hummed softly as Hank took his hands one by one and loosened the muscles there, even stretching and cracking his fingers. Hank smirked as he looked up to see his feet twitching. Richard only ever did that when he was happy.

“Feeling better?”

“A little.” It was a grudging admission filled with apprehension for what he knew would come next. The most painful muscles were those in his lower back and thighs. Hank lingered a little longer to let him enjoy a few more moments of relaxed contentment before encouraging him onto his stomach. Richard folded his arms and buried his face between them, already tensing as Hank’s large hands settled on his shoulders.

“Jesus Christ! Will you calm down? I haven’t even done anything yet!” Hank chuckled as he swung himself over Richard’s back and knelt above him. Despite his initial stiffness, Hank’s fingers soon had him turning to mush beneath him. Running his hands over his shoulder blades, he pressed and circled his way around his shoulders and down his spine. Richard had never sounded more like a ferret as he whined and mewled, soon fisting the sheets as he buried his face. “Feel good?” Richard nodded as Hank moved a little lower. It was as he reached the dimples in his spine that things got painful.

Richard flinched as Hank gripped his hips, and bit the sheets as he started pressing hard into the muscles of his ass and lower back. He knew it was supposed to help, but it was really fucking painful. Even more infuriating were the continuous reminders for him to relax, and warnings that it would hurt more if he kept tensing. Taking a breath, Richard did his best to go limp and let Hank do as he pleased, but it was absolute agony. Unfortunately, it only got worse as Hank moved to his thighs. The back was worse than the front, and his calves were particularly tender, though they didn’t hurt much when they weren’t being touched.

“Your calves are tight from all the walking and riding. You need to stretch more!” Hank chided as he stroked another layer of oil up and down his legs from heel to ass. Richard moaned softly, quietly enjoying the long, gliding strokes. Finally, Hank got down to the real business. Massaging each leg, he slowly edged them further apart until there was enough space for him to kneel behind him. As Hank’s hands closed on his ass, Richard seemed to understand what was coming. He tensed immediately, making Hank linger on his ass as he squeezed and circled the plush cheeks. “Relax, Richie…I said I’d be gentle.” Being gentle hadn’t helped so far.

With a few more whispered assurances, Hank finally pried him open and winced at the pink of his tender ring. Richard whined and twitched, writhing beneath him as his thumbs pressed and teased around the hole. It looked sore. Puffy and tender from overuse. Getting some of the thick white cream on his finger, Hank lightly traced the edges of the tender hole, finding it still soft from the day before. High-pitched whines of distress were sobbed into the pillow as he worked his way in. Hank was surprised to hear scratching and scraping at the bottom of the door. It seemed Richard’s cries had brought Sumo and Connor back upstairs to investigate.

“Sorry.” There wasn’t much more he could say as he loaded on more cream and slowly pushed his way inside. Richard’s spine arched, lips parted in a feeble cry at the pain. Outside, Sumo woofed, clearly alarmed. “Sumo, Connor! Down, boys!” The pair whined softly before settling outside the door, making Hank chuckle softly, still one finger deep in Richard’s abused ass. “They’re worried about you,” Hank teased, doing his best to distract Richard. He stroked his lower back with his free hand and teased his finger back and forth, rubbing and spreading the cream as far as he could reach. The passage was tighter than usual, but the walls were somehow softer. They almost felt cushioned.

“Th-that’s nice.” Another yelp slipped out as Hank jabbed his prostate, which was more tender than usual. Richard whined as his cock sprang to life. How he could get it up through the pain, he had no idea, but he wasn’t about to let Hank cotton onto it. Despite his best efforts, it didn’t take Hank long to realise as he brushed his prostate again and Richard let out a cross between a whine and a moan. “H-Henry, don’t-”

“Don’t worry, not today.” Richard whined pathetically and breathed a sigh of relief as Hank withdrew. “There, all done.” With much groaning and whimpering, Hank helped him roll onto his back. Despite the massage helping a little, his body still ached like hell, and his ass was raw. Hank raised an eyebrow as he lounged on the bed and eyed Richard’s twitching cock. Playing innocent, he reached up from where he was lounging, near Richard’s thighs, and stroked ticklish circles on his stomach, gently playing with the soft curls there. Richard stifled a helpless giggle and took his hand to stop the tickles. Hank lowered the hand until it lay flat, rubbing his thumb back and forth. They didn’t speak as Hank’s hand slid lower, passing over his navel.

Their eyes met. Hank’s soft blue eyes twinkled with mischief while Richard’s darker chestnut remained wary. Neither spoke as Hank’s hand slipped lower, even as his worn palm caressed Richard’s rising cock. Richard took a breath, licking his lips nervously. His lips parted with a low gasp as Hank’s hand tightened to fist and pump him. It felt good, of course, but it also made his aching muscles twitch and tightened, causing more pain. A whimper slipped out. Hank’s thumb teased his glans, rubbing in the pearls that gathered there.

“I think you deserve a little pampering after being so good.” Richard stammered, part insulted and part bewildered. He wasn’t sure how he’d been good or what he needed rewarding for, but he didn’t appreciate being talked to like a child. Hank smirked as if reading his mind and leaned over to lick the tip of his cock. Richard’s head fell back, a soft sound fleeing his lips as Hank leaned over further, getting a better angle to suck and tease as he bobbed his head.

“H-Henry…” Richard bit his lip, trying to stifle the moans that wanted to slide out. He gasped as a sharp ache shot through his lower back, but Hank’s hand steadied him, holding his hips down. A thumb teased his hipbone, soothing him. Enjoy it. Richard trembled, thighs and hips twitching with the urge to rock upwards into the warm cavern that shrouded his cock. Hank’s tongue teased the underside as he sucked, dragging another low moan from his lips. “F-fuck!” Hank would have smirked if he weren’t so busy.

Closing his eyes, he slid lower, nestling his nose in Richard’s dark curls and swallowing around his cock as it brushed the back of his throat. More sinful little whines fled Richard’s lips as Hank’s head continued bobbing and his hand kept pumping. Chestnut eyes fluttered as his head fell back, only vaguely watching the silver head ducking between his thighs. He reached up to grip the edge of the bed, fisting his hands in the sheets as he tried not to squirm. Much as he hated to admit it, it was nice to be spoiled. His core tightened, swelling with pleasure as Hank continued working his cock. His hips squirmed, desperate to buck into Hank’s mouth, but Hank held him down, unwilling to let him have his way.

With a final moan, Richard spilled, closing his eyes and biting his lip as Hank kept sucking and sucking. He only stopped when Richard whined and tapped his leg. He was an enchanting sight as he lay there panting, skin still glistening from the massage. Now that Hank was finished, Richard felt a little exposed and moved to cover himself, despite Hank’s gentle chuckle as he turned around to nestle at his side. Hank licked his lips smugly, still able to taste Richard on his tongue. His beard was wet with oil and saliva, and probably Richard’s release as well. With that in mind, he hastily wiped his chin on the sheets before leaning over to kiss Richard’s quivering lips.

“You want to get under the covers?” That seemed like it would be best. Richard felt a little exposed lying naked in the open air. Hank help him as he crawled up the bed and under the duvet, once again settling himself against the pillows like a sickly prince waiting to be tended. “Do you need anything?” Hank asked softly, crawling in to lie at his side as he shook his head. There was nothing on the farm that couldn’t wait. The animals had all been fed, and the door was open for Sumo and Connor to come and go as they pleased. With nothing urgent on the agenda, Hank closed his eyes and settled down for a well-deserved nap.

Chapter Text

“It’s been two months now and you can’t stop me!” Richard insisted as he patted Mellow’s flank with an air of smugness. Allen’s lips pursed anxiously. It had been two months, so he could ride again, but did it really have to be Mellow Yellow? The horse who’d thrown him in the first place? Alright, that was unfair. It was an accident. Mellow hadn’t thrown him. She’d slipped and fallen. Still, did he really have to choose Mellow to ride first? Mellow seemed just as eager as Richard to get started, though that may have had something to do with the tack. Being so young, she was still getting used to wearing a saddle and bridle. “We won’t go too hard, will we, girl?” Mellow’s pull on the reins did nothing to inspire confidence.

“Why don’t you ride Treacle?”

“I will! I’ll ride her after Mellow.” Allen frowned. How many horses was he planning to ride on his first day back? Surely not all of them! “Come on, we’ve missed out on two months of training, and they all need some exercise!” It wasn’t like they’d been locked up while he couldn’t ride. They’d been out in the fields every day, and Allen had ridden them regularly to make sure they stayed in shape. Richard had been sorely missed, of course. He was much lighter and more experienced in the saddle. It was also true that they needed to get them all trained up and ready for the racing season. Although the season wouldn’t begin until next spring, jockeys and sponsors would be looking for new horses now. The riders would need time to train and bond with their new steeds.

“Are you sure you want to start with Mellow though?” Richard scoffed and patted Mellow’s nose, almost as if he were apologising for Allen’s rudeness.

“She had a fall! It’s not like she threw me on purpose and tried to trample me!” All of his horses were good tempered. He’d never had a dangerous horse before. There had been horses, usually males, that were a little too aggressive for him to handle. More prone to rearing and pulling on the reins, or walking in the wrong direction. But even then, they’d never tried to trample him or hurt him on purpose. He hadn’t even been bitten by a horse before, and the only kicks had been accidental. Allen, who’d worked with him through most of his career, knew that already. It didn’t stop him from worrying about him getting back in the saddle. “You’re more worried about this than I am!”

“Well, I am the one who has to put up with your sore temper when you can’t ride.” Richard chuckled, the first Allen had heard in weeks. Richard always took it hard when he couldn’t ride, sulking for days on end. Thanks to Hank, Allen had managed to escape most of the backlash this time. Whatever they got up to in the barn, it either put Richard out of action for a few days or put him in a terribly good mood. Looking back on it, Allen was glad he’d convinced Hank to save and restore most of the stuff up there.

“Why don’t you come with me if you’re that worried?” Allen raised an eyebrow. It had never been an option for Richard to go by himself. He wasn’t going to let him out of his sight for a month! Richard rolled his eyes as he slotted his foot in the stirrup and hauled himself up. He certainly looked at home up there. It was like he’d never left. Perfect poise as always. Allen took the reins and led the way, walking Mellow to the track and opening the gate. Despite his reluctance to go along with it, he couldn’t help smiling as he released the reins and watched Richard kick Mellow into a light trot. She was more than willing, and probably would have cantered if Richard hadn’t signalled her to take it easy.

“Alright, go on, but take it easy!” Allen called as Mellow turned tail and took off around the track. Sighing, he leaned on the fence and watched them warm up. It was hard not to worry. Mellow was still learning, and there was no guarantee she wouldn’t throw Richard off again. She hadn’t learned to listen yet. She didn’t work with the pull of the reins and trust Richard to know best. Like her rider, she was hot-headed. Overconfident. “Watch the turns!” Allen called as Richard passed by. They’d kicked things up to a canter now, and Richard was trying to get in a little leading practice.

“Hey, how’s he doing?” Allen just about jumped out of his skin as Hank appeared at his elbow, leaning on the opposite side of the fence. Richard probably hadn’t seen him yet. If his choice in horse was anything to go by, he hadn’t expected Hank to stop by. Not that Hank knew their mares well enough to know it was Mellow that threw him.

“Not bad. He’s on his second circuit.” Hank nodded along as he watched Richard’s ass bounce in the saddle. He could tell he hadn’t really started yet. If he had, his ass wouldn’t even touch the leather. When he hit high speeds, it was his knees that took most of the strain, keeping him up and clapping the saddle. His hips would rock and he’d lean low over the tossing mane, whooping and yelling encouragement over the wind. Right now, he was taking it easy.

Richard remained oblivious to Hank’s presence as he started the next circuit. Mellow got faster, making him lean forward and rest on his knees to keep balance. He let himself bounce, knees and hips keeping him on as they tore down the straight. Despite his excitement, he was still cautious. He had to be. Neither he nor Mellow could afford another slip. Watching the approaching turn, he tugged on the reins, urging Mellow to slow. She didn’t listen as well as he’d hoped. Shit…She was still disobeying the pull until the last second. She knew she could take that turn by herself at this speed, no problem, but she wasn’t accounting for Richard’s weight. Richard slowed a little as they rounded the bend, taking a deep breath. If she didn’t listen, they risked another fall.

His heart kicked up as they set off towards the next turning. Come on, girl! He kicked it up a notch, leaning low over her neck and keeping his hawklike eyes on the distant bend. Maybe if he pulled a little earlier, it would give her time to adjust. But if I pull early, I’ll be training her to expect the signal earlier…He had to get her used to it. Pulling harder might do it, but he didn’t want to turn her too quickly. This time…This time she’ll listen…He hoped. The bend was coming up quickly. Almost too quickly. Licking his lips, he gripped the reins tighter, just using his fingers. Almost…Almost…

The moment it was time, he gave a light pull, hoping beyond hope that Mellow felt it. His heart pounded, dropping lower as she sped round the turning, taking it way too fast. Gritting his teeth, he held on tight and closed his eyes as they swung out all the way to the fence. He swore he could feel the wood brushing by, less than a millimetre from his calf. Cursing inwardly, he pulled the reins, slowing her down. He didn’t want to sound annoyed, so he patted her neck with a slow breath and trotted over to Allen, who was clearly biting his tongue. The person who didn’t bite his tongue was Hank.

“What the fuck are you doing on your first day back?” Mellow snorted and scraped the ground, agitated by the irate grumble in Hank’s voice. Richard didn’t answer at first, pulling and reins and patting Mellow’s neck to calm her down. Hank seemed to understand as he took a breath and waited, still expectant. Richard wasn’t sure what to say. It wasn’t like he’d meant for Mellow to go careening round the bends, but she needed to be trained out of it. It wasn’t an overnight process! Hank was probably right though. It was his first day back.

“She’s still in training! You can’t expect her to get everything on the first try!” Allen couldn’t help feeling a little awkward being in the middle. It would usually be his job to chew Richard out, and he agreed with Hank in this case, but standing between them was a little uncomfortable.

“You almost fell off again!” Richard clicked his tongue, as he so often did with Allen. It was sort of nice to see someone else on the receiving end for a change. Gathering the reins, Richard prepared to move on. Allen reached out quickly and pulled Mellow to a stop. Letting Richard burn off steam on the track was fine on a properly trained mare or out where he had unlimited space, but here on the track while riding Mellow was a bad idea. His temper and her inexperience were a bad combination.

“I handled it!” Allen wasn’t going to say anything, but he was pretty sure Hank knew there wasn’t really a way to handle taking a bad turning. Any closer and he could have clipped the fence, possibly breaking his leg in the process. It was out of his control, much like Mellow seemed to be. Hank scoffed as he rested his hands on his hips.

“Handled it by almost being tossed through the fence? You could have lost your leg!” The colour in Richard’s ears was enough to tell him he was right, but Richard wasn’t about to take it lying down.

“But I didn’t! I’ve been doing this long enough not to get lectured by a sheep farmer!” Allen blinked, looking at Hank warily. They sounded angry now, both of them glaring. Allen held a little tighter as Mellow shifted from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable with the tense atmosphere. Allen was pretty sure the only reason they weren’t yelling was because neither of them wanted to spook Mellow and risk further injury.

“I don’t just keep sheep! And so what if I did? You got a problem with that?” Allen was pretty sure Richard didn’t have a problem with it, but he wasn’t about to admit it in the middle of an argument. He was stubborn like that.

“I’ve got a problem when you start trying to tell me how to do my job!” Allen sighed and tugged Mellow’s bridle as she shuffled her feet. She was getting agitated, and Richard was being ridiculous. Hank had done no such thing. He was just worried.

“I won’t tell you how to do your job, but I will tell you when you’re being a damned idiot!” Clicking his tongue, Richard pulled the reins, scowling as Allen kept a firm hold and glared back. If he was going to have a tiff with Hank, fine. But he wasn’t about to let him risk his neck by speeding off around the track on a mare that was still in training. “For Christ’s sake! Get down here before you break your damned neck!” Hank’s voice was a little louder this time, and Mellow didn’t care for his tone. Before Richard could open his mouth to respond, Mellow’s front hooves had left the ground.

Both Hank and Allen stepped back as she reared, snorting and whinnying. Richard cursed under his breath as he hugged the saddle with his thighs and kept his legs loose. Leaning forward and gripping her mane, he managed to stay on without issue. The good thing about Mellow rearing was that Allen was forced to let go, allowing Richard to spur her into a canter the moment her hooves touched down.

“Richie!” Allen yelled after him as he sped away, but to no avail. He was ignoring him.

“You get back here right now, you little-”

“Hank! Please. You’ll scare Mellow.” Taking a breath, Hank nodded and stepped back. Allen was right. Horses were sensitive beasts, and it wasn’t fair on her for them to keep her trapped in the middle as they argued. “Why don’t you go…take a walk. I’ll keep an eye on him and make him calm down.” There wasn’t much Hank could do besides nod. With a final glare at Richard’s back, Hank turned heel and walked off, leaving Allen with just one hothead to worry about. He crossed his fingers and mumbled a silent prayer as Richard zoomed around the first bend, which was less than smooth. By the time he cleared the second bend, Allen’s heart was in his throat and he’d already stepped into the middle of the track with his arms out to force him to stop.

Richard was mad, but he wasn’t stupid. He’d never risk playing chicken with Allen’s life, so it was really no surprise as he pulled the reins and slowed Mellow to a walk. Breathing a sigh of relief, Allen tried to control his own temper as he approached and took the reins. Richard let him, thinning his lips and avoiding his eyes. He hadn’t exactly cooled off, but he knew he was being a reckless idiot and that Allen would be right to kick his ass for what he’d just done. Fortunately, Allen wasn’t the violent type.

“Down.” Richard didn’t even think to argue. “You’re done for today. Go home, clean up, and wait for lunch.” Waiting for lunch suggested that Allen would join him at some point, and that he was more worried than angry. If he were truly angry, they wouldn’t speak for a week. Nodding like a scolded child, Richard let Allen take the reins and stalked off the track, only stopping to close the gate behind Allen. Allen took charge of Mellow and led her across to the stables to remove her tack and groom her. She needed a little pampering after all that stress.

In the meantime, Richard stalked back to the house, pointedly ignoring Hank’s yard as he stomped by. Who the hell does he think he is? Lecturing me on riding as if he knows anything about it! Such thoughts continued as he pulled his boots off and let them fall by the door before marching up to the bathroom. He left his helmet on the chest of drawers and carefully removed his dark green riding jacket before getting the shower ready. His hair was a mess, sweaty and mussed by the helmet. He ignored it as he turned on the shower and peeled off the long-sleeved top he was wearing.

His body wasn’t sweating too badly, considering he’d only been around the track four times. He’d barely even started the day! He would have argued with Allen and ignored his orders to clean up for the day, only that wasn’t a fight he could win. Allen was usually right about these things, and he respected him too much to really piss him off. Hank, on the other hand, could go fuck himself. Huffing, Richard slipped out of his pants and stepped beneath the spray, folding his arms and gritting his teeth as his eyes started stinging. Asshole! He should mind his own business when it comes to my job!

Richard sniffled as he grabbed the shower gel. Fuck! Pull yourself together! He couldn’t help wondering how bad the fallout would be. Allen was still talking to him. I’ve known Allen for years, and he knows what he’s dealing with. Hank didn’t. He’d barely known him for a year, and they’d been fucking for far less than that. What if that’s it? What if I went too far? Then it was no different to all the rest of his relationships. He could go back to sleeping alone, no problem. It wasn’t like he needed Hank. Richard swiped his eyes, doing his best to ignore the tears as he washed his hair. It’s the shower…Getting water in my eyes.

By the time he’d finished in the shower and put a lid on his feelings, Allen was downstairs. He didn’t say anything when he first entered, too busy stirring the pasta on the stove. Richard quietly moved around the island to fill the kettle and set it to boil before making up the teapot. It was as he turned his back to lean on the counter that Allen looked over his shoulder and noticed the telltale puffiness around his eyes. With anyone else, he might remain silent or give them a good long lecture, but Richard struggled enough with social cues as it was. Telling him off would make no difference.

“Are you alright?” Richard’s shrug was enough to tell him he wasn’t. “You want to talk about it?” He wasn’t really one for talking. What was there to talk about anyway? He and Hank had argued. They might not be on speaking terms. Maybe they were finished. They probably wouldn’t meet at the chickens anymore. Nines and Gavin would be miserable. They’d both have to get new roosters. He’d go back to being petrified of dogs and shy away from Hank’s yard. In a few weeks, they’d probably get over the awkwardness. “You’d better not be making up a bunch of nonsense in your head right now.” Richard remained evasive as he filled the teapot. “Richie…”

“Well, what do you expect me to think? That this isn’t a big deal?”

“That’s exactly what you should think! It wasn’t even a big argument! You know your problem? You always leap to the worst conclusions.” Richard would have argued, but he’d be lying. Allen was right. He was so used to things going wrong and not working out that it was just easier to expect the worst and go along with it. We’ve only been sleeping with each other for a few weeks…What if it doesn’t really mean anything? He winced as an open palm struck the back of his head and rubbed it with a small glare. “Stop overthinking things and putting yourself down!” That was easier said than done, and they both knew it.

“Am I overthinking things? What’s so great about me? I’m a washed up has been, falling apart at the seams! I’m not good looking, I’m not fun to be with. Why would anyone want a piece of this?” Allen snorted as Richard waved up and down his body, which was in no way unattractive. Was he Casanova? Of course not! Few men were. Allen ruffled his hair and shoved him towards the stools that lined the island, where he sat and started pouring the tea. After he’d spooned some pasta into their bowls, Allen joined him.

“You’re only forty-three! That in no way makes you a washed up has been! You retired to start a business and save your health, that’s all! You’re ten years younger than Hank, and believe me, he’s not complaining.” Richard stirred his pasta doubtfully, glancing at Allen as he began to eat. “You’re also underselling yourself. You have a great body, and you’re not ugly. Liking someone and finding them attractive are subjective things. There are probably people out there who find me insufferable.” Richard wasn’t about to agree with that, but the nagging did grind his gears on occasion. “I’ll bet you anything that when you go to the chickens later, Hank will be there.” Richard wasn’t so sure, but he’d accept Allen’s attempt at comfort for now.

Chapter Text

Richard couldn’t help feeling nervous as he stepped outside later that evening. Allen had said he was sure Hank would be at the chickens as usual, but what if he wasn’t? What did that mean for them? Obviously, that means it’s over, right? That thought followed him as he crossed to the garage and filled the feed bucket. He hesitated as he looked out at the deserted yard. Connor wasn’t there, and that meant Hank wasn’t either. His chest dropped at the thought, and a heavy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he was out on his rounds. At this time of night? It was early evening, and Hank was always back by now.

Lifting the bucket, Richard trudged across to the pen and stepped inside. Nines was finally back where he belonged and skittered up to meet him immediately. Something had changed since his injury, perhaps because Richard had pandered to his needy nature when he was hurt. He was more affectionate than before, willing and eager to be held and always running around his feet in greeting as he worked. Richard huffed and crouched to stroke Nines’ comb and feathers as the hens clucked and pecked the earth expectantly.

“At least you’re not mad at me.” Which made a nice change. Nines almost seemed to coo in agreement as Richard pushed to his feet and scattered a few handfuls of seed across the ground. The hens fell upon it immediately, happily pecking as they strutted around. The rest of the feed was tipped into the long trough, and Richard checked their water. It was still pretty full. No need to refill it. The bucket swung loosely at his side as he meandered back to the gate. Chancing a glance at Hank’s house, he noticed the downstairs windows were lit with a warm glow. That meant Hank was probably in there somewhere. It was too late for him to be anywhere else on the farm. But it is unusual that Connor’s not out here…

Licking his lips, Richard looked around at his chickens. It wouldn’t hurt to stay out a little longer. Just in case. Allen seemed pretty sure that Hank wasn’t angry enough to call it off. Maybe he really was delayed in the fields somewhere. Richard’s stomach churned with a heavy feeling. Then why are the lights on? If the lights were on, Hank was home. And if Hank was home, that meant he was ignoring him. Or he doesn’t know I’m here. Hank always knew when he was there. He’d turned up every day for weeks! That he wasn’t coming out now suggested he simply didn’t want to. A knot formed in Richard’s throat as he swallowed. It’s not a big deal…It’s not a big deal…This isn’t the first time.

Despite thinking that, he could feel his bottom lip quiver and his breath stutter. His eyelids fluttered as he blinked, refusing to give in to the tears filling his eyes. This is fucking ridiculous! Pull yourself together! You’re forty-three years old! Looking down, he found Nines hopping around his feet again, almost as if he could sense his plummeting mood. Richard crouched again, sniffling quietly as he gathered up the black rooster that hopped on his lap. Nines cooed softly, head bobbing as he blinked up at Richard and accepted the gentle strokes along his back. Richard couldn’t help it as his shoulders started shaking and dry sobs choked his throat. Now he was crying because he felt stupid for crying, and that made it even worse.

Stupid-stupid! This is so stupid! Despite that, he was still crying. Maybe he was just stressed. Having a fight on his first day back wasn’t ideal, and the test run hadn’t gone as well as he’d have liked. Maybe Allen was right and he should have ridden Treacle first, or May-Bell. They wouldn’t have thrown him. Mellow didn’t throw me either! She just took the turnings too fast! He’d have to try again. Maybe tomorrow. He could take it slow and get her used to the pull on the reins and then increase the speed gradually. It wasn’t as fast as learning at speed, but he didn’t have much choice. She wasn’t picking it up as quickly as the other mares. If she didn’t learn quickly, she wouldn’t be ready for next season. She’s still young though. She has time.

With another sniffle, Richard wiped his eyes and stroked Nines’ black feathers, enjoying the gentle coos as he nudged his fingers. He was just thinking about going back inside when a distant bark reached his ears. Turning his head, he squinted through the increasing dimness to see a four-legged silhouette jump the fence at the end of Hank’s yard. Excited barks continued as the dog, which he quickly realised was Connor, careened across the yard towards him. Richard stayed where he was, holding Nines a little closer as the rooster fluffed his wings in agitation. Connor panted happily as he planted his front paws on top of the fence and wagged his tail in greeting. Something like relief welled in Richard’s chest. If Connor had only just got back, that meant Hank wasn’t far behind. Maybe he hadn’t been ignored. Maybe he really had been out in the fields all this time.

Hank soon appeared and climbed into his yard. It seemed he knew Connor was at the coop as he started heading over. He was carrying a heavy-looking canvas bag over his shoulder, and from the tinkling sound of metal, Richard assumed there were tools inside. His hair was unruly, the knees of his overalls were dirty, and his shirt sleeves had been rolled up despite the evening chill. If Richard had to guess, he’d say he’d been fixing another fence. He looked a little tired, but he managed a smile as he walked over, which put Richard on the back foot.

“Richie, hey! Sorry I’m late I was…What happened? Is Nines alright?” There was a rattling thud as Hank all but dropped the bag and hopped over the fence. Richard blinked, lips stammering as Hank stepped inside and crouched beside him. He lifted Nines without a word and started checking him over. “What’s wrong? Is he hurt?” He didn’t look hurt. In fact, he was indignant at being picked up and manhandled. With a bemused caw and a flap of his wings, Hank released him and watched him skitter off across the pen.

“N-No, Nines is fine.” Hank frowned a little at that.

“Then what’s wrong? Did something happen?” Richard shook his head and stood, quickly followed by Hank. “Bullshit! Something’s wrong, you’ve been crying!” Richard scoffed at the notion and instinctively swiped his eyes. Unfortunately, that move was a dead giveaway. Hank folded his arms and blocked the door, raising an expectant eyebrow. Richard huffed and folded his arms, brows furrowing in defiance as he drew himself up to his full height. Hank’s lips twitched at the sight, which made Richard’s cheeks burn even hotter. His full height was still a foot shorter than Hank.

“I have not been crying!” Hank smirked at the lie.

“But there is something wrong.” Richard clicked his tongue and turned his head. His cheeks were probably bright pink by now. He was a terrible liar. “Come on, you can tell me…Did you fight with Allen after I left?” Richard shook his head. Irritated as Allen had been, they hadn’t really fought. They didn’t need to when Richard already knew and acknowledged he was in the wrong. Besides, he was already upset about Hank. Arguing more would just make him even more upset. “Then what?” Hank’s voice was softer this time, soft blue eyes imploring him for an explanation. Richard sighed and licked his lips, swallowing his nerves.

“I-I thought you weren’t coming.” His chestnut eyes remained stubbornly distant, glaring off to the side. He seemed a lot smaller with that admission, hunching his shoulders and clenching his jaw so he didn’t confess anything else. He didn’t need to. Hank could tell there was more to it. It wasn’t just that he hadn’t appeared at the chicken coop as usual.

“You thought I was angry?”

“You’re not?” Richard didn’t seem to believe him as he glance up. Sighing, Hank pulled him against his chest and wrapped his arms around him.

“Idiot.” Richard’s cheeks burned at the admonishment, but he didn’t pull away. He wasn’t sure he was ready to look at Hank directly yet as he leaned his head on his chest and enjoyed the feeling of rough fingers running through his hair. Whiskers teased his brow as Hank kissed his temple and rubbed his back. It was comforting. “You really thought I was angry enough to ignore you?” Richard pouted. That’s exactly what he’d thought.

“Well, you stormed off earlier, so I thought…” It seemed stupid to say it at this point.

“You thought we were over?” Richard nodded and felt Hank’s arms tighten as he sighed. That was a level of insecure Hank had never anticipated. He would have said it was laughable if he didn’t know Richard had been crying over it. “Richie, we had a fight. That’s all!” That’s all? How could he say that? That’s what ended relationships all the time! “Couples fight! Was I mad earlier? Sure. You could have been seriously hurt on that fence, but I wouldn’t leave you because of one little tiff!” For some reason, the reassurance made him feel worse. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Richard leaned closer, hiding his face in Hank’s chest as he clung to his shirt. He wasn’t sure if he was shocked or relieved.

“You called me an idiot.” Hank snorted softly, still ruffling Richard’s hair as he held him.

“You are a fucking idiot.” He laughed harder as a small fist knocked his shoulder. Richard sniffled quietly, feeling bad as he glanced up.

“I-I didn’t mean what I said…” Hank raised an eyebrow. He didn’t recall Richard saying anything in particular. “When I called you a sheep farmer. I didn’t mean it.” Is that all? Hank chuckled softly as he returned to rubbing Richard’s back. What he’d said wasn’t entirely inaccurate. He did have sheep. A lot of sheep. Wool and lamb meat were his big money makers. Having said that, he couldn’t help being curious about what Richard actually thought.

“What am I then?”

“You’re a livestock farmer…You have more than just sheep.” That was almost cute. If Richard was apologising, it was only fair he did the same.

“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean it when I called you an idiot.” He could feel Richard cringing against his chest. Apparently, he wasn’t good at accepting apologies. “But you understand why I was mad, right?” Richard remained subdued and nodded, still avoiding his eyes by hiding in his chest. “You’ve only just healed, and I didn’t want to see you get hurt again.” Richard understood that. Allen was the same. However, he was an experienced rider, and he knew what he was doing. Training horses like Mellow was part of his job, whether they liked it or not. Having said that, they have a point about it being my first day back after an injury.

“I can’t promise I’ll always be safe…Training horses is my job and accidents happen, but I will be careful.” Hank nodded his understanding. He knew Richard was right. He’d always known riding could be dangerous, but seeing how close he’d come to another accident almost made his heart stop. It was a nasty reminder of the day he’d gone to hospital. Hank had waited by the chicken coop for over an hour, wondering where he was and worrying because he didn’t turn up. Eventually, he’d just fed the chickens himself and gone to find him; only the stables were deserted and Allen’s car was gone. It was weird Richard didn’t tell him, but if he was with Allen, then he’d thought he was probably alright. Still, as time wore on, he’d worried, and since he didn’t have his phone number, he couldn’t call. Looking back, it was crazy that they hadn’t exchanged numbers earlier. He didn’t know how he’d overlooked it.

“I appreciate that…And I’ll try not to get on your case too much.” Richard managed a small snicker at that.

“No, you won’t.” Hank’s lips twitched at the call out.

“You’re right, I won’t. I won’t leave you either.” Drawing back, Hank cupped Richard’s cheeks and brushed his thumbs along the bottom of his eyes, wiping away the few lingering tears that sat there. The rims were all red and puffy, and his lashes were sticking together with salt. Leaning in, Hank brushed a few gentle kisses along his lips, enjoying the way Richard’s eyes fluttered shut with each small press. “How about we get cleaned up and go to the pub for dinner, hm?” Richard hadn’t even thought about food. His stomach had been tied in worried knots since lunchtime.

“Sure, that sounds nice.” Rose hadn’t made a bad meal yet, so he knew whatever they ate would be delicious. His stomach almost rumbled at the thought as Hank left him with a soft parting kiss. Stepping out, Richard carefully set a hand on Connor’s head and scratched his floppy ears in greeting before they parted ways. Hank to shower and change clothes, and Richard to wash his face.

“You can come over as soon as you’re ready. You know Sumo and Connor won’t jump you.” Richard wasn’t so sure about that, but having spent a few days in their company, he was beginning to think they weren’t so bad.

Chapter Text

Although Hank had promised to do his best, Richard couldn’t help feeling a little stifled over the next few weeks. It wasn’t that he was doing anything wrong; he was being nice. Attentive. As the weather cooled, they were spending more time at Hank’s house. It saved on power since Hank had a working wood burner in the living room, and an old heater warmed the bedroom at night. In the morning, Richard would wake up at the usual time, often finding that Sumo and Connor had slipped in during the night to curl up on the floor by the bed. The moment he sat up, a burly arm would snake across his waist and pull him down again.

Once he’d managed to extricate himself from Hank’s clutches, which took a great deal of time and energy some mornings, they both got ready to head out. Hank walked him through the yard and often stayed to help him clear the fields or set the horses loose. Richard insisted he could manage, but there was really no harm in letting Hank help. It gave them more time together before he disappeared on his morning rounds. Richard would stand by the fence and watch him go, following him and Connor with longing eyes until they were both out of sight.

While Hank was on his rounds, Richard would get some work done around the stables. Whether that was mucking out, exercising, or training depended on the day, but he never ran the track without Allen being there. Hank would probably chew him out if he knew he was jumping fences alone, but since that was his weakest area, Richard was always more careful. He and his steed had to be in sync to make those jumps, and he generally kept to the easy fences unless Allen was there. The higher jumps were a little more unpredictable. Hooves would clip the bars, the horses were more likely to stumble, and Richard had to be even more careful about keeping his balance.

At some point, when he made it on to the track, Hank would return. It was usually around lunch time by then. He wouldn’t say anything, but Richard could always feel those soft blue eyes watching as he tore along the straights. The nerves as he took the turnings was palpable. Even after all these weeks, Hank still seemed to doubt him. Allen had settled down since his shoulder was fully healed. He trusted that he knew what he was doing, even when he was training their more inexperienced mares. Whenever Hank saw him riding Mellow, he got an anxious look in his eyes. His lips thinned and his smile was stiff.

“He thinks I’m incapable!” Richard complained as he and Allen walked Mellow back to her stall. As usual, Hank had returned to Richard’s house to make lunch for the three of them. Allen took the leading rein as they arrived, allowing Richard to pull his helmet off and flatten his fluffed hair. He chuckled as he walked by, leading Mellow further inside and tying her outside her stall. She was the only horse inside at the moment. The others were out grazing in the fields.

“He doesn’t think you’re incapable!” Richard scoffed at the reassurance. Allen clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes as he unstrapped the heavy saddle and lifted it off. “Why would he think you’re incapable?” As far as Allen knew, Hank had never hinted that he was incapable. A little reckless perhaps, when his shoulder first healed, but for the past few weeks he hadn’t uttered a single criticism. If anything, Allen thought he looked proud as Richard streaked by on whatever mare they were training that day.

“He just…hovers over me!”

“He comes down to see how you’re doing! Would you rather he didn’t come and visit the track?” Richard fell silent. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Hank coming to see him, and he didn’t mind being watched, but he was sure Hank had some unresolved feelings about the accident. It was like he came down to make sure he wasn’t about to fall off and break his neck.

“No, I-I like it when he comes to see me,” Richard grumbled. No one else had ever made the effort to visit. It was nice that he cared enough to see how he was doing, but at the same time, it felt a little stifling, like he was waiting for him to make a mistake. What would happen if he did make a mistake, he wasn’t sure. Would he berate him? Tell him to quit riding? Tie him to the bed again? “It’s just…I keep thinking he might be waiting for me to fall off again.”

“To do what? Tell you I told you so? Hank’s not like that! He’d never want to see you hurt!” That much was true. “I think this is a you problem.” Richard blinked. A me problem? He didn’t have a problem! What problem could he possibly have? “Hank isn’t thinking all this stuff! You are! You feel like he lacks confidence in your abilities since the accident, or maybe you lack a little confidence in yourself.” That…might make a lot of sense actually. It was the first accident he’d had in a fair while, and the first that had fractured a bone in years. It was certainly true that he’d suffered moments of doubt, especially while training Mellow. He’d shifted between being overly reckless and overly cautious.

“Well…what do you advise?” Allen hummed as he grabbed a brush and ran it over Mellow’s glossy cream fur. She was a lot calmer these days, more confident. She was growing and gaining experience every day under Richard’s steady hand. Her front hooves scraped the ground as Allen brushed her flank, her head ducking in approval. Richard took her bridle and stroked her nose, clicking his tongue softly.

“You feel like you need to show him your resolve…That you’re confident, capable, powerful…” Richard nodded along. It would be nice to get that across somehow, but why would Hank believe him when he was almost twice his size? “You want him to believe you when you say you can control a beast three times your size.” That’s right! He could do that. He did it every day. But how could he show that skill to Hank in a way he’d believe it and take him seriously? “It’s time for you to show him your dominant streak.”

“Right!” Richard paused, frowning a little as he watched Allen brush Mellow’s back legs. “Wait, how do I do that?” Allen smirked as he straightened up, grey eyes dancing with mischief as he let Richard figure it out. Richard balked. “A-absolutely not!” There was no way Hank would take him seriously in a situation like that! He’d just laugh! Richard’s cheeks burned at the thought that he might not. That he might be receptive. But then what? In all of their encounters, Hank was the one who’d taken the lead. He tried to ignore the little voice in the back of his head that suggested that’s why it might work.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Allen asked as he led Mellow into her stall and removed her harness. Richard remained quiet as they headed back to the house, considering that very question. Hank might laugh, but Richard couldn’t imagine it being an ill-natured laugh. He might turn the tables, but that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing either. Whatever happened, Richard was quite sure it wouldn’t be anything malicious. It wasn’t like he’d talk about it or make fun of him with anyone, not even Allen. Though he knew Allen had helped with suggestions, he was pretty sure Hank never shared any of the more salacious details.

He was still thinking about it as they returned to the house, where he changed into some casual clothes. He felt Hank’s eyes rover over him as he entered the kitchen to make a pot of tea. They lingered on the loose collar of his linen shirt and trailed down to his denim clad ass. Despite Allen sitting at the breakfast bar, Hank still teased a hand over Richard’s hip on the way by, keeping him away from the hot pan he was carrying. Richard leaned into the touch before moving away to find the tea leaves. Taking his time, he stole a glance at Hank.

He really was a giant of a man. A full foot taller and almost twice as wide. Broad shoulders, burly arms, strong thighs, and mature and seasoned from years of working in all weathers. Richard had no doubt that Hank could master and control any farm animal, no matter how large. If people looked at his smaller body, he knew they would doubt that he could do the same. Richard was no fool. His experience was with horses, so if he tried to tame a bull, it probably wouldn’t go so well, but he was skilled at what he did. Does Hank really believe that though? He must, on some level. So maybe I really am projecting…Do I lack confidence? He didn’t feel that way.

Knowing the direction of his thoughts, Allen did his best to distract Hank throughout lunch to give him a little more thinking time. By the time they finished, Richard knew there was really only one thing for it. The problem was that this wasn’t his area of expertise. He could tame a horse, sure, but a human? He was still lost in thought as Hank and Allen left the house, each returning to their afternoon work. That gave Richard more time to prepare. At first, he wasn’t sure how to prepare. How did one usually go about such things?

Biting his lip, he circled his bedroom. He needed to feel confident. Riding always made him feel confident, and demonstrating his skills was what he was going for, so it made sense to dress appropriately. Since he didn’t want to ruin his good gear, he searched around for an older set of riding pants. They were still good and tight as he pulled them on, though they were wearing a little along the inner thighs and knees. His jackets were in a better state, and he pulled on a white undershirt and a snug purple jacket that buttoned at the front with a high collar. The last thing he took was an old set of riding gloves, a set he kept just in case he couldn’t find his newer ones.

Looking in the mirror, he had to admit he still looked pretty good. The pants, though old, still hugged him the same way, emphasising the curve of his ass. The jacket cut across his shoulders nicely, giving him a little more stature despite his small size. Once he’d pulled on his riding boots, he’d really look the part. Reaching inside his pants, he adjusted himself carefully, doing his best to hide his modest bulge. He never rode commando, for obvious reasons, but in this situation, it seemed appropriate. The pants were thick enough that it wouldn’t be too obvious, especially if you didn’t know.

Now feeling a little more prepared, Richard grabbed the bottle of thick lube he kept on the bedside table and headed for the barn. He didn’t see Allen as he passed, for which he was grateful. He wasn’t sure he could take the teasing. Once he was up in the loft, he looked around thoughtfully, wondering what to do next. Hank had no idea where he was, so there was still time to change his mind. He could sneak back to the house and no one would be any the wiser. That thought brought him some comfort as he walked along the rack of harnesses. A smirk pulled his lips as he paused beside a head harness, complete with horse ears and a bit. It would serve Hank right if he made him wear it.

Before worrying about what to put on Hank, he strolled down to the various whips. Biting his lip, he ran his fingers over the row of riding crops, taking each in hand and trying them. They were of varying lengths and stiffness, some very whippy, and others more rigid. He took one of the middle one and tried it, swishing it up and down and bending it this way and that. It was a lot like his own, though he seldom used it these days. During a proper race it was a good motivator, but he found that out on the track a simple heel in the side and an encouraging word did just as well. If Hank was lucky, perhaps he wouldn’t have to feel the sting.

Keeping the crop, Richard moved along to the bits and gags. Whatever he chose, he thought it should be comfortable. No balls or metal rings, and a metal bit seems a bad idea for human teeth. He wanted Hank to enjoy the experience. A soft, silicone bit would be easiest on the teeth. The bit was easy enough to fit into the head harness, which just left the question of what he would do when Hank actually arrived. Most of the devices in the loft involved being strapped down or restrained, but he wanted Hank free. What he really needed was a comfortable flat surface, but there was no bed in the loft. The closest thing he had was hay bales, which were too heavy for him to haul up into the loft. The best he could do was sweep the straw that littered the floor into a single pile and pat it down.

With everything ready, there was just one more thing he needed. Licking his lips, he pulled out his phone and looked at the screen. Hank was probably out somewhere in the distant fields. He might not even have reception. Part of him hoped that was the case as he started tapping out a message, which he had to delete and retype multiple times. What was he even supposed to say? I’m waiting for you in the barn? Would you come to the barn, please? Come to the barn now? What tone was he supposed to use? He must have paced around for at least fifteen minutes before he finally huffed a sigh. Screw it!

I want you in the barn. Now. He sent the message before he could second guess himself and let out a quivering breath. Adrenaline flooded his body, making his legs shake. Trying to ignore it, he took to pacing the floor, half hoping that Hank would miss the message. After what seemed like an hour but was probably ten minutes, he was beginning to think he was right. Hank was out of range and hadn’t received the message. A few minutes later, he was thinking of calling the whole thing off. His throat felt tight and his skin was almost tingling with nerves.

Okay…Did I do something? Richard cursed his luck as his phone buzzed and frowned at the message.

No, why would you think that? Was his message too snappy? Looking back, maybe it was a little short.

I don’t know; you seemed a little off. Sit tight, I’ll be there in ten. Ten minutes? He only had ten minutes? Richard began to feel sick and paced even faster. This was a stupid idea! He should message him back right now and tell him it was no big deal. Just a mistake. A misunderstanding. There was still time. But then he thought of Allen and how smug he was about the whole thing and how he’d think him a coward for avoiding things. But this is going to be so embarrassing! He didn’t feel like there was a dominant bone in his whole body at that particular moment. He felt it even less when the barn door creaked open. Shit!

“Richie? You up there?” Richard called back a less than confident confirmation and listened with dread as Hank’s boots stomped to the ladder. “What did you call me all the way back here for? I was just going to…” He trailed off as he reached the top to find Richard pink faced and clutching both a crop and a harness. Hank didn’t know what he’d done to deserve such a greeting, but fuck, Richard looked like a dessert platter. The fit of his jacket, the tightness of his pants, the leather gloves, all of it was going straight to his cock. “Hello…” Richard felt his skin burn as Hank climbed up and leered at him with greedy eyes.

“It’s about time. What took you so long?” Richard tried to ignore the tightness in his throat as he spoke and hoped to God Hank didn’t hear his voice quiver. Hank raised an eyebrow as Richard looked up at him and tried to seem strong and confident. Part of him wondered if he’d done something to piss him off. He was getting mixed messages with the outfit and curt words.

“As I was about to say, I was out in the donkey pasture and I was just about to put their feed out.” Richard didn’t really care about that. What he cared about most right now was Hank not noticing the way his hands were shaking. He gripped the crop tighter to try to compensate. Swallowing his nerves, he licked his lips and tried to harden his expression.

“When I tell you to come, you should come immediately.” He knew as he said it how impractical it was. There was no reception out in the fields for a start. Hank raised an eyebrow, wondering if he should be annoyed or amused. He was going to go with amused for now. It was endearing that Richard was trying to act so tough when they both knew he wanted to turn into a puddle of mush. Still, he wasn’t quite sure what he was planning.

“Is that so…” Richard’s lips thinned and Hank smirked. This wasn’t going well so far. He balked as Hank stalked towards him and laid a hand on the wooden box he was standing next to. “Why don’t you make me?” There was a swish as the crop whipped through the air and landed beneath Hank’s chin with barely a brush of his skin. It didn’t hurt, but the speed was enough to tell him it could have if Richard had wanted it to. Pushing back a little, Hank gave him some breathing space.

“I shouldn’t have to make you…Don’t you want to be good for me?” Richard did his best to purr the words, and it seemed he had some level of success as he teased the tip of the crop along Hank’s bushy jawline. From the hungry look in his eyes, Richard knew he was on to something. Swishing the crop away, he stepped back and cocked his hip. “Strip.” He didn’t bark the word, he merely said it as if expecting that Hank would obey. Resting the crop on his shoulder, he rolled the handle this way and that while swinging the harness in his other hand. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Hank, unused to stripping for anything besides changing, bathing or fucking, simply did as he was told. The first thing he did was remove his heavy boots and damp socks. It was cool and a little damp out in the fields, and he’d been hard at work that day. Next, he went for the buttoned straps of his overalls. The heavy denim fell from his shoulders and he pushed them down to his ankles. It wasn’t a sexy striptease by any means, but Richard was getting fidgety enough watching the layers fall off. After the overalls, he removed his red chequered shirt and tossed it aside.

“Everything,” Richard prompted when Hank stopped short of his boxers. Hank found himself feeling surprisingly exposed as he dropped his tight boxers and felt Richard’s sharp eyes caress his flaccid cock. “Good…Very good.” Hank stayed where he was as Richard walked around him, running his eyes over his brawny body. It would be a lie to say he was the finest specimen man had to offer, but he was more than good enough for Richard. His legs and arms were strong, though there was softness in his thighs, hips, and stomach. He had a fine silver coat, and Richard paused to run his fingers through the soft curls on his chest.

“What now?” Hank asked with some amusement. He stiffened a little as the tip of the crop returned to tease his leg and slowly ran up his body. Though he trusted Richard, he couldn’t deny the slightest twitch of nerves as the leather tip brushed his cock and balls.

“Now you show me how good you can be.” Hank snorted and raised an eyebrow as Richard lifted the harness. There was a swish and Hank jumped as the tip of the crop stung his flank. It wasn’t painful per se, but it did leave a little pink mark on his skin. “Don’t keep me waiting.” Hank’s brow furrowed a little, but he was willing to go along with it. For now. Richard held the harness ready and clicked his tongue softly, the way he did with his horses. Hank wasn’t sure he appreciated that, but he did as he was told and opened his mouth to let Richard slip the rubbery bit between his teeth. “That’s it…Good boy…” Hank felt his skin heat as Richard buckled the harness and stroked his hair through the leather straps.

The problem with having his mouth full was that he could no longer form words to ask what was next. Even as he tried to speak, barely getting more than an incomprehensible grumble out, Richard hushed him and pulled the reins. Unused to being manhandled, Hank pulled back and received a firmer tug and swish of the crop in return. It would be a lie to say it didn’t go straight to his cock, as he was sure Richard could see. Richard, however, was more than a little distracted. He now had Hank in the harness, but what was he supposed to do with him?

“Walk on.” Keeping the crop loose in his hand, Richard loosened his grip on the reins and led Hank around the barn. They walked at first until Richard worked him up to a light jog. Hank followed with minimal complaints, though he wasn’t sure what Richard was trying to do. The crop stung his ass more than once, telling him to keep going. It had been a few years since Hank had done any sort of running, so it was really no surprise that his blood was soon pumping like he was halfway through a marathon. “Good boy. Let me look at you.” Hank was grateful for the excuse to stop as he huffed for breath, watching curiously as Richard walked around him. He ran a gloved hand over his ass to squeeze and slap his flank. “Good muscles…” The crop teased his spine, running up to flick his silver locks. “Excellent poise…”

Hank huffed and looked over his shoulder, feeling a little indignant about being spoken about like an animal at an auction. Was he going to lift his lips to examine his teeth, too? Richard smirked, pulling the reins this way and that and offering some comment on his symmetry and eyes. Next he ran his gloved hands over his chest, lingering on his nipples to tease the buds to pebbles. Apparently, his reaction was pleasing. Hank outright moaned around the bit as that gloved hand finally stroked down to where it was most wanted. Leather teased his cock and balls as if weighing them.

“Good and heavy…” Hank almost blushed at the observation as Richard looked up at him, slowly pumping his cock. “Looks like a found quite a stallion…Tame enough for riding, perhaps.” That was more like it! Hank could definitely go along with this part. Ready to show him what this stallion could do, Hank reached for Richard’s ass, only to be stopped by a tug of the reins and a swat of the crop on his inner thigh, right below his cock. “Do not mistake my teasing for vulnerability…I’m in charge here.” Hank could believe it at the moment. He could be patient, and it seemed Richard understood as the crop slid down his thigh and away. “Before I can ride you, I need to know you can be good.”

Hank followed the pull of his reins and sank to his knees in front of Richard, who wasted no time in resting a foot on his swelling cock. The pressure alone had him twitching to half-mast. As the boot worked back and forth, Hank had to admit, he’d never thought Richard had this side to him. Hank moved slowly, cupping the heel of Richard’s boot to hold him snug against his cock and stroking his calf and thigh with the other. They both knew that, if he chose, Hank could flip their roles, but the crop and the fact Richard was trying something new stayed his hand.

“Before I can ride you, I need to be made ready.” Hank’s eyes were hungry as Richard stroked his hair and jutted his hips out. There was no way Hank could suck his cock with the bit in his mouth, but that wasn’t quite what Richard had in mind. He enjoyed the gentle caressed of Hank’s lips on his clothed thigh as he leaned in. His cock twitched as Hank kissed and nudged the bulge, but that wasn’t where he needed to be touched. Hank mourned the loss as Richard stepped back and turned around, keeping a loose grip on the reins as he shuffled his feet wider. “Well? What are you waiting for? Rip my pants and get to work.” Hank blinked. Rip your…

There was something sinful about the sound of tearing fabric and how Richard’s pale flesh came into view. The fact that he intended to keep his riding gear on made Hank’s cock even harder as he stretched and pulled the split he was making right along the seam. Pulling the material wider, he slipped his rough hands inside to caress and squeeze Richard’s bare ass. He moaned around the bridle, stroking and pinching until Richard tugged the reins, dragging his face closer to the prize. Hank smirked around the bit. He’d asked to be prepped, and who was he to refuse that order? Slipping his thumbs between his cheeks, he pried him open until he could see his tight little asshole.

“G-good! Good…” It was nice to know he was on the right track as he leaned in and licked the tight ring. It was also nice that Richard had lost none of his more endearing qualities. His cheeks flushed as he leaned against the box and stuck his ass out, making it easier for Hank to work. Despite the bit, Hank was able to get his tongue out far enough to do a little of the work, but it was nowhere near as efficient as usual. “Here…In case you need it.” Hank accepted the bottle of lube without comment and spread some on his fingers. Usually, he might have spent a lot longer loosening the ring with his tongue, but the bit made that impossible. Still, Richard didn’t complain as he sank two fingers in. His mouth opened, spine arching as he propped himself against the box.

“Yes! Good, fuck, loosen me up!” It was the most vocal Richard had ever been. Perhaps there was something to be said for this strong, dominant role. A tug of the reins pulled him closer, and Hank held back a chuckle. It seemed Richard had forgotten how little use his mouth was at the moment. Still, there were other things he could do. He pressed kisses over his bare ass and worked the tear in his pants wider. Wide enough that he could get his hand inside to squeeze his cock. “H-Henry!” Richard squirmed against him, unsure whether he wanted to sit on his fingers or grind his greedy palm.

Hank continued kissing his ass and rubbing his cock, which remained trapped in his tight slacks despite the tear. Richard was putty in his hands again, helpless to stop him as he pushed in a third finger and twisted. Sweet little mewls slipped out, needy pleas for more as he bucked and squirmed. Finally, Hank removed the hand on his cock. This was Richard’s game, and it was only fair that he be allowed to decide how it ended. With a tap of the crop on his thigh, Richard had him stop his ministrations. He looked over his shoulders, dishevelled and pink-faced.

“G-good boy…Over here. I need to mount up.” Hank’s cock was rigid as he followed the pull on the reins to the pile of straw. It wasn’t the best surface, but it would do in a pinch. Richard waved for him to lie down, so Hank did just that, settling on his back and popping himself on his elbows, trying to ignore the scratchy prickles on his skin. Richard licked his lips as he looked down at the rigid cock swaying between his thighs, waiting for him. “I usually use a saddle, but I guess I can go bareback on this occasion.” Hank huffed softly, blue eyes softening as he held out a hand to help him on. Richard turned away before swinging a leg over, accepting Hank’s hand as he settled on his knees.

Hank would have liked to be able to speak at that moment, but had to settle for a soft grumble as Richard shuffled a little higher and began to lower himself. Hank held his cock ready, letting out a low moan as Richard’s ass began stretching over his glans. Fuck, it felt good, feeling his ass stretching to sheath him, snug and warm. He gripped Richard’s slim hips as he settled and got some purchase with his feet on the wooden boards. Richard was going to ride for all he was worth. Richard’s first moan was sinful as Hank snapped his hips and bounced him on his pelvis.

“E-easy now.” Hank smirked. He’d give him easy. Richard rolled to meet the next thrust and rested his hands on Hank’s knees for support. “Fuck-yes!” Hank moaned as Richard rocked and bounced on his hips, enjoying the rise and fall of his ass, which was still snug in his tight slacks. “M-more!” The crop flicked Hank’s hip, spurring him on as Richard worked up to a steady rise and fall. He rocked and rolled, exactly the way he did in the saddle, and Hank’s hands guided him. Despite the shaky start, Richard had to admit there was something quite freeing about being in control like this, wearing his riding gear and working Hank’s cock in his ass.

Hank growled as he snapped his hips, enjoying the broken little moans that spilled from Richard’s lips. His ass was tight around him, milking him as he rocked and bounced. The hands on his knees gripped firmly as he leaned forward and worked his hips, panting and whining all the while. Richard’s cock was solid in his slacks, trapped and throbbing. He didn’t bother to release it, but occasionally freed a hand to stroke the tight material and help himself along. Suddenly, Hank hit an angle that made him shudder and mewl, and it seemed he noticed as he tightened his grip and pulled him down. With nowhere to run, Richard put the crop to good use, spurring Hank on to thrust faster. The clap of flesh was almost deafening in the open space of the barn, and Richard swore his moans were echoing off the rafters.

“H-Henry!” Hank let out a low moan that might have been his name if he could speak and Richard spilled. Warmth spread across the material of his slacks, spreading out in a halo around his spent cock. With a few more tired thrusts, Hank was done. He sank in and held Richard down, rocking and squirming as he emptied in his ass.

Chapter Text

Hank remained propped on one arm, gazing at Richard as he slept. To say he was smug was an understatement. After their tryst in the loft, Richard had removed the bridle with shaking hands and all but turned to mush in his arms. Taking the lead had been more than a little stressful, and he was still embarrassed about it. Hank had said little once his head was free, because kissing Richard senseless seemed like a far better use of his time. Richard seemed to agree as he looped his arms about his neck and shuffled closer.

They’d returned to Richard’s house since it was closer, with Hank’s shirt tied around Richard’s waist to hide his ripped and stained riding pants. They’d heard Allen in the stables as they passed, but he didn’t notice as they headed up to the house. Once inside, Hank had reasserted himself. He’d lifted Richard off his feet and carried him up to the bedroom, where he’d taken his sweet time peeling him out of his wrecked riding gear. Richard hadn’t complained. Writhing on his back, he’d squirmed and thrown his legs wide to receive what he was owed.

Once they were fully sated, they’d showered and changed the sheets before settling down for a nap. It was too early to go to bed yet; in fact, Hank would soon return home to see to Connor and Sumo. Not to mention his evening rounds, which had been somewhat delayed by this enticing little interlude. Almost as if he’d sensed his thoughts, Richard stirred beside him and looked up with bleary eyes. Hank smiled warmly and laced a large hand in his fluffed hair. Richard stretched with a low whine, which slowly dragged the covers below his pecs, revealing pale flesh and dark curls.

“What time is it?” he groaned with a relieved sigh. The light was slowly dimming outside.

“Getting on for five-thirty.” Richard winced a little at that. He’d kept Hank far longer than usual, and he had to check on Allen and feed the chickens, too. It was a good thing he hadn’t planned any training for that afternoon, and Allen hadn’t called. Considering their conversation that morning, Allen probably had some idea of where he’d got to that afternoon. The very thought made his cheeks burn. “So…are you going to tell me what that was all about?” Hank asked with some smugness, looking down at Richard with hooded eyes.

“What do you mean?” Richard was cagey, dark eyes darting back and forth as he avoided Hank’s gaze. Laying a hand on Richard’s covered stomach, Hank began stroking soothing circles on the cool sheets.

“Not that I’m complaining, but being the dominant party isn’t really your thing.” Richard scoffed with indignation at the jibe. Who said he wasn’t the dominant party? He could be dominant if he wanted to be, as he’d proven earlier! Hank seemed to garner something of his thoughts as he sat up and raised his hands. “Hey, I’m not saying that’s a bad thing! It’s just you usually let me take the lead is all, so I was surprised.” Richard squinted as if weighing up how angry he should be about that. It wasn’t like it was a lie. Hank had taken the lead in every scenario prior to that afternoon.

“Do you have a problem with it?” There was more than a little insecurity in Richard’s voice as he pushed himself up and leaned against the headboard. Hank shuffled back to join him, sitting sideways and reaching out to take his hand. His fingers were a little cold, prompting Hank to squeeze and rub them.

“No! Not at all! It was sexy, you know? I mean, I could do without the bridle, but it was…hot.” Richard felt his cheeks burn at the compliment. That was a pretty good review, considering it was the first time he’d tried taking the lead. It wasn’t the best attempt, but it wasn’t too bad for a first time. He wasn’t sure he had the nerve to try it a second time, but Allen was right. He felt more confident and sure of himself now he’d done it. “What made you think of it though?” Richard squirmed a little and licked his lips.

“I thought you might, you know, have a little more confidence in me if I took charge.” Hank frowned, partly surprised and partly put out. “Since the accident, you’ve been a little…” Richard wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. Clingy might fit, but it felt too negative. It wasn’t that he was clingy, but he did hover a lot more than he used to. Every time he rode the track, he could feel Hank’s eyes following him and sense his worry. He might use overbearing, but Hank didn’t nag him or try to dissuade him from riding, so that wasn’t entirely right either. Domineering would be completely inaccurate. Besides the incidents during his recovery, Hank hadn’t forbidden him from riding.

“I’ll admit, I’ve been more nervous, but it’s not because I don’t have confidence in you.” Richard’s lips pursed doubtfully. “It’s not! It’s just…you can’t always control when or how an accident might happen.” Accidents were inevitable in any job, and there were plenty of things that might happen to Hank. He might be rammed by a sheep, kicked by a cow, nipped by a pig, pecked by a chicken, or mauled by a wolf, and that was just the animals. There were plenty of mishaps he could have with the tools and machinery stationed around the farm, but Richard never worried about that because he knew Hank was good at his job. Granted, he might feel differently if Hank had an accident while they were together, but so far he hadn’t.

“There’s unlikely to be any accidents if you believe I’m good at my job!” Hank wasn’t sure what to say about that. He’d watched Richard on the track long enough to know he was an amazing rider with a proven track record of being good at his job. Still, an accident had happened just a few months ago. An accident that could have been a lot worse.

“I know you’re good at your job! It’s just…These animals are almost three times your size, so I get a little nervous. You know accidents happen.” Of course he knew that. He had the aching shoulder to prove it. He’d fallen many times before, been kicked and dragged, and suffered multiple injuries. Scrapes on his skin, bruises, swollen lumps, fractures, and broken bones. He was sure Hank had suffered his fair share of injuries as well. Accidents happened.

“The horses might be bigger, but I’m the one in control.” Hank chuckled fondly as he stroked the back of Richard’s hand, enjoying the way his cheeks darkened.

“And is that what our little rendezvous was about earlier? Control?” Richard nodded meekly, remaining where he was as Hank huffed and leaned closer to trail kisses along his bare shoulder. “You didn’t have to prove that to me…I’ve seen how you handle your horses. I never doubted you for a second.” It was nice to be validated. Maybe Allen was right, and this whole thing had really been about his own lack of confidence. It felt pretty good, having Hank on his knees and pulling him about, though he didn’t doubt for a second that Hank had wanted it. Much like a horse, there was no way Richard could get him to do something if he didn’t want to.

“Thank you,” Richard murmured as he turned his head to accept a light peck on his lips. His dark eyes fluttered as Hank lingered, and a worn hand stroked his cheek. As they parted, Richard knew it was time to get up. Hank had his rounds to finish, and he needed to bring in the horses and get them settled for the evening if Allen hadn’t started already. He wasn’t even sure if Allen was still there, though he hadn’t come to say goodbye. Thank God!

They dressed once more, Hank in his overalls and Richard in some old jeans and a light sweater, and headed out. Leaving through the kitchen, Richard watched Hank cross the yard and hurried around to the stables, where he found Allen grooming Treacle. The dark mare scraped the ground with her front hoof and dipped her head in approval as Allen brushed her left flank and lingered around her hip. Richard smiled warmly and moved to grip her bridle and pat her neck, steadying her as Allen moved on to brush her glossy hide. Allen smirked as he bent over and started on her leg.

“So, how did it go?” Richard balked at the knowing tone. He really was far too smug and equally nosy. “Really? That good?” Richard pursed his lips and bit his tongue, all but glaring at Allen as he continued brushing. It seemed his tense body language and stubborn silence told Allen all he needed to know. He chuckled as he brushed, clicking his tongue and lifting Treacle’s hoof to check beneath. Her shoes were still good and firm, and the underside was fairly clean. “I bet it felt pretty good, taking charge for a change.” Richard still refused to rise to the bait, but Allen seemed to know all he needed to.

“It was alright…” Richard grumbled under his breath, fingering through Treacle’s mane. It was an alright experience. One he might repeat some day, but probably not too soon. He honestly wasn’t sure how much he enjoyed the roleplay element. He enjoyed riding horses, but he was well aware that Hank wasn’t a horse. The bridle had been more about payback than anything else. Richard had already been strapped up twice in the loft, so it was about time Hank was subjected to something. Still, having the ability to pull him around like that was pretty appealing, and having him willingly submit was satisfying. He hesitated to say it made him feel like a man, but it made him feel something.

In a physical fight, there was obviously no way he’d win against someone like Hank. Large, built, powerful. Looking at them, anyone would put their money on Hank’s larger physique. However, despite that, Richard was the one in control. Hank had submitted to him. He’d willingly followed the pull of the reins, bending to his every whim until Richard had finally taken his rightful place as a jockey. Richard buried his face in Treacle’s neck as he remembered the way Hank’s hands had rested on his hips and thighs, guiding him in circles as he rode his cock.

“I’m glad…You know, you’ve really come out of your shell since you started seeing Hank,” Allen said with more than a little pride. Richard had always been a confident rider, but when it came to dealing with people, he was less than sure of himself. Allen was the one who usually made phone calls, deals, and arrangements. He also took the lead in social situations. It was a wonder Richard had managed romantic liaisons during his career. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a very good judge of character, so he’d been used for money more than once. “It’s about time things started going your way.” Richard hummed softly. He’d never given it much thought, but it probably was strange to most that his only real friend was Allen.

“I’m not completely hopeless…” They both knew that was a lie. Given the choice, he’d stay in his stables with his horses and see no one else. Even going into town to shop was a stressful chore. Allen smiled knowingly and didn’t say another word about it. Once Treacle was safely back in her stall, they headed out to bring in more. The sun had already set, though the sky had plenty of light left yet as they entered the field. Richard whistled and clicked his tongue, grabbing the attention of Bessie and Bramble. Bramble was especially pleased as he noticed Allen waiting and cantered right over to nudge and nose his chest. Allen laughed and patted his neck, which now reached his chest. Though he had a lot of growing to do, Bramble was no longer the frail little foal he was a few months ago.

It didn’t take long to get the rest of the horses in, and Allen was pulling out of the stables barely an hour later. It was getting a little dark by then, and Richard decided it was past time for him to stop at the coop. Nines started hopping at the mesh the minute he saw him, squawking indignantly at being forgotten for so long. Their evening feed was late! Richard hurried and fetched the bucket, accepting Nines’ light pecks on his boots as he entered. He wasn’t really in trouble. The beak stayed on his thick boots and jeans without touching flesh.

“I know-I know! I’m sorry, alright?” Nines fluffed his feathers and flapped his wings. It seemed all was forgiven as Richard scattered about some feed and refilled the trough. Once he’d topped up their water, he set about apologising properly and lifted Nines against his chest. As had become usual, Nines cooed and settled in the crook of Richard’s arm to accept what pets and scratches were offered. His feet rested gently on his sleeve, barely gripping the material as his head drooped. Looking down, Richard found his eyes had shut. He smiled softly, stroking and bouncing him as he walked around the coop.

The hens were unconcerned as usual. They were quite happy pecking the earth and chasing each other around the pen. There were no chicks left now. All of them were grown and sold, though some hens were still resting in the coop laying eggs that Richard would collect in the morning. There were already multiple boxes packed away in his kitchen waiting to be taken to the pub. Rose would take some, and multiple others had also shown interest. The chickens were turning out to be a nice little side business, despite his earlier concerns and misgivings. I wouldn’t have met Hank properly without them…How different his life would have been then.

“I guess I owe you, huh?” he murmured softly as he looked down at Nines, whose eyes fluttered open at his gentle words. Nines hooted softly as Richard chuckled. “That almost sounded like an agreement.”

“What sounded like an agreement?” Richard all but jumped out of his skin as he looked over his shoulder to find Hank climbing over the fence. He couldn’t have been there long. Connor hadn’t even barked this time, but stood panting happily with his paws on the fence. Richard shook it off and let Nines down, barely sparing him a glance as he skittered off to mingle with his hens. Hank opened the coop gate and held it for Richard as he stepped out.

“Nothing, I was just talking to Nines.” Hank looped an arm around his shoulder and chuckled as if it were the most natural thing in the world. To Hank, it was. There wasn’t a day that went by when he didn’t talk to Connor and Sumo, and all his other animals. Sometimes, he swore they talked back, though few were more vocal than Gavin.

“Of course you were. Hey! Where are you going?” Hank paused as Richard turned to head to his house, the feed bucket still dangling in one hand. Richard frowned when the arm around his shoulders tightened as Hank turned towards the fence that led back to his house.

“Home…Where are you going?” He needn’t have asked. Hank’s answer was the same. Home. They stopped for a few moments in which Richard put the empty feed bucket on the ground. “Are you coming over later?” Richard asked as they hesitated outside the coop. They hadn’t had this conversation for a while. For the past week, they’d been staying at Hank’s place. Resting his hands on his hips, Hank raised an eyebrow, and even Connor tilted his head.

“You’re not staying at mine?” Richard blinked. It hadn’t really occurred to him. Since they were in his yard, he’d just thought his house was more practical. There was an air of awkwardness as they eyed each other for a sign.

“Well, um…We have stayed at yours for the past week.” Hank wasn’t sure why that was an issue. They’d taken a nap at Richard’s house earlier in the day and they ate lunch there, so it wasn’t like the house had sat empty. All the same, Richard’s belongings were at his house, so it made sense he might feel like staying there sometimes. Hank also knew he still wasn’t completely won over by Sumo and Connor. He liked them well enough, perhaps Sumo a little more, but he wasn’t as fond of them as Hank was.

“So why ruin a good thing?” Hank teased as if the matter was settled. Before Richard could muster a response, Hank had stooped to grip his knees and rested his stomach on his shoulder. “Up we go.” Richard’s feet left the ground, and he found himself being carried towards the fence like a sack of potatoes. Though he kicked as they approached, he stopped squirming as Hank began to climb. He didn’t want to fall headfirst into Hank’s yard.

“Hey! I put me down! I don’t consent to this! Oi!” Hank chuckled as he reached the other side and hefted Richard a little more securely. Connor barked happily and zipped around them as Hank strode across his yard.

“Yeah, you do.” Richard spluttered an objection, looking over his shoulder as best he could. He couldn’t see Hank’s face, but he could well imagine his smug expression. Patting his ass, Hank continued walking up to his porch, where Sumo was waiting by the open door, wagging his fluffy tail. “Now, come on. You can start on the vegetables while I get these two fed,” Hank said as he put Richard on his feet and spanked him. Richard glared over his shoulders with pink cheeks, but followed the guiding hand into the kitchen, where he was left with a knife and peeler as Hank corralled the dogs outside.

Chapter Text

Richard shivered as he trudged through the boggy field, hands bundled in the thick sleeves of his coat and tucked under his arms. Winter had arrived, which apparently meant the whole place would fall apart. There had been strong winds the night before and on into the afternoon, which had meant a lot of work for Hank over on his side. Fences had been blown over, animals had escaped, and a full panel of his old chicken coop had been blown clean off. Needless to say, Hank had been busy and barely stopped long enough to shovel down a sandwich at lunch.

That left Richard at a loose end. With the weather so bad, Allen had decided to skip that day. The roads were wet and slippery, especially the dirt roads between farms, and a few trees had been blown over on the main road that ran through the town. Without Allen, and with the track being so wet, Richard had taken a break. That didn’t mean he wasn’t busy though. As the only person there, he had to muck out the horses, let them out, and bring them in all by himself. It had been a full day. A day that was supposed to be ending, but as he was bringing in the horses, he noticed one of them was missing.

“Bramble?” The black foal was nowhere in sight. The other horses were all accounted for, though Bessie had gone with much rearing and neighing without her foal. Once the adult horses were all stabled with feed and water, Richard returned to the fields for a more thorough search. There was a heavy feeling of dread in his chest as he heaved himself across the field. His booted feet sank with each step, and he almost lost his boots more than once. “Bramble!” His voice echoed around the field, but even squinting in the late afternoon dimness, he couldn’t see him. Did someone steal him? It seemed unlikely, given how remote they were. He hadn’t heard any cars all day.

Walking along the edge of the field, he soon found it. A beam along the top of the fence had fallen on one side, leaving a small gap that Bramble could easily hop over with his boundless energy. The mares had felt no need to leave their own comfortable pasture, but it seemed Bramble was up for adventure. Resting a hand on the wet post, Richard leaned over and searched the grass for prints. He wasn’t looking for long. A set of small hoof prints disappeared into the neighbouring field. Hank’s field. Looking around, Richard couldn’t see any sign of Hank or his animals. The sheep had been moved to a field closer to the house, making it easier to get them into the barn on those colder nights.

“Hey! Bramble!” Richard called as he hopped the fence and headed across the short grass. The sheep had only recently left this pasture, so the grass needed time to recover. That was good for Richard. It meant Bramble’s prints were clear as he bent against the wind and followed them. His teeth chattered as he crossed the blustery field, quietly wishing he’d brought a hat for his cold ears. “Bramble!” He clicked his tongue as he reached the edge of the trees and peered inside.

The forest looked foreboding, especially in the coming darkness. It might be late afternoon, but winter quickly stole the sun these days, and beneath the trees it was already dark. Whining under his breath, Richard realised he was going to have to go in there. He’d never been into the forest on this side, but he knew it was dangerous. Taking a breath, he went in. Dangerous or not, Bramble was in there somewhere, and he was the first foal born on his farm. That and the thought of Bessie’s mournful whinnies hardened his resolve as he trudged into the trees.

The prints were still visible, but it was getting harder to see them as the trees closed in and the day darkened. It didn’t take long for Richard to start cursing himself for coming so unprepared. He didn’t even have a flashlight to light his path, and these were Hank’s woods. If he’d thought properly, he could have returned to Hank’s house and called him for help. My phone! That was a thought. So far from the house, the signal probably wasn’t strong enough for a call, but there was a flashlight built into it at least. Feeling triumphant, Richard turned on the small light and aimed it at the path while calling Hank. Predictably, the signal was too weak to call, but he sent a message anyway. Maybe he’d get lucky and it would make it through.

“Bramble! Come here, boy!” There was still no sign of the little foal, and the further he got from the treeline, the more worried he became. There were larger things than foxes in these trees, though he’d always thought such beasts lived much further out. But it’s winter and food is scarce. They might have moved closer. Swallowing hard, Richard looked over his shoulder, wondering if he should turn back. He gasped as scuffles sounded further ahead, rustling branches and the firm thud of hooves. “Bramble! Over here!” Hope filled him as he hurried further into the forest, following the thuds of hooves and whisper of leaves until a black shape finally appeared.

In a wide space between the trees, he saw Bramble trotting towards him. He was much taller now. His head was at the same height as Richard’s, too small to ride, but big enough that he was no longer really a foal. He seemed spooked as he hurried over to Richard, only stopping as Richard took his head harness and steadied his ducking head. Richard clicked and hushed him as he scraped the leaf littered earth and ducked his head. Releasing one hand, Richard stroked and patted Bramble’s glossy hide, doing his best to calm him.

“Easy, boy, easy! What’s got you so spooked, hm? Are you ready to go back?” His tone was soft as he spoke, looking Bramble directly in the eye. Richard’s eyes were soft and calm, filled with relief at finding him. Bramble snorted softly, staring back with eyes that were even darker than Richard’s. He calmed a little, finding his feet and nosing Richard’s chest. “There, that’s better…” Richard continued murmuring words of comfort and patted his neck as he turned, always keeping one hand on Bramble’s harness. “Alright, come on. Let’s get you back to the stables. Your mother has been worried sick!”

It was as he took his first step that he heard it. The rustle of leaves behind him. A rustle that wasn’t caused by the wind. Something was there. Gripping the harness tighter, he stopped and straightened up. His head snapped to the right as more rustling came from the trees. He wasn’t sure if it was the noise or his nerves that set him off, but Bramble whinnied and reared, almost pulling himself free of Richard’s grasp. Richard raised his arm and rose with him, almost standing on tiptoe so he didn’t fall over.

“Hello? Is someone there?” Richard called as he looked around. More scuffles came from the left, and Richard released Bramble’s harness. That doesn’t sound like people…He swallowed, unsure where to look as another sound came from behind. “Show yourself!” Human or not, being loud was a good way to scare off many animals. Gritting his teeth, Richard took to growling himself, trying not to look scared and timid as he turned this way and that. Stooping, he picked up a rock and tossed it, cursing under his breath as something big scrambled out of the way. It was too big to be a rabbit, but too small to be a deer. “Yah!” He slapped Bramble’s flank, spooking him off through the trees towards the fields. Whatever had stalked them could only attack one. Either they’d chase down Bramble or take their chances with him.

Richard’s heart thudded as scuffles sounded in the surrounding trees, but whatever lurked there didn’t give chase to Bramble. Bramble was young and quick. Richard was the easier prey. Richard did his best to keep his fearful breaths level as he slowly backed up, dark eyes sweeping the trees. Seeing a hint of grey fur, he turned and ran blindly through the trees, vaguely following the path Bramble had fled along. He didn’t dare look, but he now knew what was coming. The snarling growls and padding paws pursued him until he caught his foot on a root and fell. Rolling, he barely managed to snag a loose branch off the ground before the first wolf came.

Yelping, Richard swung the heavy stick like a bat. It was neither particularly thick nor particularly long, which made it a poor weapon, but it was all he had. He thought he’d counted three wolves. Thin, lanky things. They circled him slowly, threading in and out of the trees with piercing yellow eyes and quivering jowls. Perhaps it was a good thing they looked so thin. He might fend them off long enough to stumble back to the fields. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in a very good position, on the ground in an open space. He swung the stick a second time as a wolf tried to come up behind and bite his arm. The teeth barely snagged his sleeve, but Richard thought he knew their aim. They didn’t need to rush him all at once. They could get in small nips here and there to weaken and wear him down. He was already shaking with fear and adrenaline, so it wouldn’t take long for him to crash.

He’d barely started pushing to his feet when another wolf charged. His mistake was taking a full swing without checking on the other two. As he struck the first wolf with his stick, a second streaked in and sank its teeth into his thigh. Richard swatted it with a cry and leaned over his injured leg. His jeans were thick, so it wasn’t a deep bite, but it was enough to cause him pain and slow him down. He barely managed to swipe at the third wolf as it came while he was struggling to his feet and stumbling back. It was impossible to keep all three in his sights as they circled, and a weight brought him down from the side. He rolled across the dirt with a wail, gasping for breath as sharp claws scratched his thick coat sleeve.

His body instinctively curled up then, which he knew was the worst thing he could do. He could already hear excited paws padding towards him when a deafening howl cut the air. There was a loud leafy crash that sounded like a hedge had been knocked over and a heavy weight landed on the ground in front of him. Terrified, Richard could barely bring himself to open his eyes and look. He wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or petrified as he took in the huge white hound that stood before him, growling and snarling, hackles raised as it faced down the trio of hungry wolves.

Richard whimpered and covered his head, staying in a ball as Sixty pounced. He met the largest wolf with a roaring bark and snapping teeth. Richard had never seen wolves fight before, but he’d seen the way his father’s dogs attacked. Just like the wolves, they pounced Sixty from all sides, but they were smaller and thinner. Standing on the first wolf, Sixty turned his head and grabbed the next with sharp teeth, tearing into its fur at the shoulder as he wrenched it free. The injured wolf yelped and whimpered as Sixty dislodged it, and the third wolf was met with an enormous paw to the snout.

He wasn’t sure how long it lasted, but balls of grey and white fur were soon rolling between the trees with snarls and snaps. Red painted the earth and stained their jowls. Fur was ripped out, flesh was torn, and teeth and claws were lost in the fray. The cold and fear made Richard shiver, but he finally raised his head enough to see Sixty toss aside one of the wolves like a rag doll. That seemed to be the last straw for the grey trio. They limped away, backing off with their tails low. Sixty remained standing, hackles raised and jaws snarling as he watched them. With a deafening howl, Sixty sent them running off into the trees, but he didn’t move until Richard could no longer hear them.

“N-no, stay back!” Richard grabbed his stick and pointed it at Sixty, shuffling his way back to the nearest tree and dragging his injured leg along the ground. He was shaking so badly he didn’t think he’d be able to stand if he tried. Sixty had now turned to him, a hellhound painted in shades of red and white. His jowls were bloody from the fight. Red stained his fur in thick patches, and not all of it came from the wolves. He’d taken his own share of injuries in the fight. Richard yelped as the great white hound stepped closer and grumbled at him. He blinked, scared of the dog, but also reluctant to hurt it. It was one of Hank’s animals. “J-just…stay there!” Sixty grunted and ignored him, throwing his huge head back to howl again. It was an urgent, bloodcurdling sound.

Whimpering, Richard dropped his stick and covered his ears, making himself small and cowering against the tree. Unable to move, he remained frozen as Sixty approached and all but sat on his legs. His sore thigh ached under the weight, making him hiss and whimper, but Sixty ignored his complaints as he settled down and started licking himself clean. Richard grimaced in disgust as the giant beast slathered itself, licking and chewing an injury on its front leg.

“That’s disgusting!” Sixty growled and grumbled as if in response, but mostly ignored Richard. Quivering, Richard pushed himself back against the tree and did his best not to move. He wasn’t sure how long it had been, but Sixty’s head soon snapped up and he let out another loud howl. Richard almost whimpered as an answering howl came through the trees. Not in the direction of the deeper forest, but from the fields. Sixty barked loudly, and a familiar answer came from somewhere through the trees. Hope swelled in Richard’s chest as two dark shapes padded into the small clearing.

“Richie!” A sob stuck in Richard’s throat as he heard the nearby voice, relief stealing his breath as he leaned back against the tree. The two dark shapes soon came into focus as Connor and Sumo, both panting happily as they approached Sixty and started licking and pawing him.

“Here! I’m over here!” Hurried steps thundered through the trees and there was Hank, shotgun cocked and ready. “Henry!” Tears of relief spilled down his cheeks and Hank rested a hand against the nearest tree and let out a sigh of his own. Sixty growled under his breath as he pushed himself up and started limping towards the trees. Sumo and Connor blocked his path, snuffling and nosing his bloody coat.

“Thank Christ! Bramble came over and I couldn’t find you. Then Sixty was gone, and I heard the howls in the woods. Connor and Sumo went berserk and ran off, so I grabbed my gun and followed. What the fuck are you doing out here all by yourself? Are you insane?” There was more relief than anger in his tone as he dragged Richard to his feet and wrapped an arm around his slim waist. Richard whimpered, limping on his injured leg. It hurt like a bitch. The full story could wait until they got out of the forest, so Hank turned his back and had Richard hold on as best he could. Safe on Hank’s back, Richard breathed in his rugged scent and buried his face in his shoulder. “Sixty, come!” Sixty gave a low growl at the order. “Don’t give me that! You got yourself mauled! Come away!”

Sixty turned his noble head to the trees, apparently thinking of chasing down the wolves and seeing them off for good now that Richard had been found. Connor and Sumo, however, had other plans. They nipped his sore fur and nudged his sides, pushing him towards the farm. Chuckling, Hank praised Connor and Sumo, and Sixty soon took the hint. This was his land. He didn’t like outsiders on his land. They would get bold. Come to his fields, eat his flock. The outsiders needed to be hunted and destroyed. However, Sumo and Connor were persuasive enough to make him wait. The wolves were gone for now, and would be too scared to return for a good many nights. By the time they did, Sixty would be healed once more and ready to fend them off.

Back at the house, Hank had Richard strip out of his coat and trousers to assess the damage. He was lucky. Few scratches had pierced his thick coat, and the bite in his thigh was so shallow it wouldn’t even need stitches. He would, however, need to have it flushed and tended to at the hospital. There was also the matter of shots. Thankfully, Richard thought he was up to date with everything, though they might give him an extra rabies shot just in case. Living on a farm with the risk of exposure, he’d taken precautions for most things.

Once Richard was dressed in fresh clothes with a temporary bandage, Hank went and saw to Sixty, who was most unimpressed as he was hosed down. The earth turned red as he was cleaned, but red patches soon returned where he’d been injured. Examining his legs and tail, he found no broken bones at least. Like Richard, it would mostly be flushing the wounds and keeping them clean. Considering himself lucky it wasn’t worse, Hank called Luther to see about treatment. Luther agreed to come out to the farm and see to Sixty, who was unimpressed to find himself tied up outside the barn, while Hank drove Richard to the hospital. Despite his size and ferocity, Sixty had always been an excellent patient for Luther.

“You’re one lucky son of a bitch! You should have called me.” The text that appeared on his phone shortly after their return to the farm was a slight consolation, but it still shouldn’t have happened. Hank listened as Richard sheepishly told him about his adventure from start to finish and shook his head. The timing was unbelievable. If Bramble had escaped just a few days earlier, Sixty would have been in the field. What might have happened, he couldn’t say. Sixty might have attacked Bramble himself, corralled him back on to Richard’s land, or allowed him to pass. But one thing was certain; had Sixty been in the field, there’s no way Richard would have climbed over and gone into the forest. “Why didn’t you call me first? You know that’s my land; I would have been able to help!”

“I did think of that once I was in the trees.” That didn’t help. He should have thought of it sooner. Sighing, Hank focused on the road as he passed through the town, towards the city. “I sent you a message, but I guess it didn’t get through.” He hadn’t truly expected it to, being so far out.

“Don’t go out there alone again. Those wolves have been a growing problem lately, and as you might have noticed, they’re hungry.” Richard nodded as he recalled their lanky forms padding in and out of the trees. He’d almost felt he could see their ribs beneath their fur, which explained why it was so easy for Sixty to see them off. It probably helped that Sixty was twice their size as well.

“If I never see another wolf, it’ll be too soon.” Richard hissed softly as he moved his thigh, feeling sorry for himself as he leaned on the door. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing Allen. He’d never hear the end of this. Hopefully, it wouldn’t affect his riding too much.

Chapter Text

“I think you’ve had more hospital visits since you moved here than for the past five years!” Allen teased as he entered Richard’s kitchen. Richard winced and pressed a hand to his head to ward off the throbbing in his skill. Since the injection in his thigh the night before, which had hurt like hell, he’d developed a continuous dull ache behind his eye, and noise only made it worse. His thigh, which had been disinfected and carefully bandaged after the injection, was also sore. He wouldn’t be riding that day. He was in too much pain. Seeing his low mood, Allen moved to stand beside him at the breakfast bar, where he was set up with a pot of tea and a book. “You want to tell me the whole story?”

“There’s not much to tell. I saw Bramble was lost and went into the forest to look for him, and almost got eaten by a pack of hungry wolves!” He knew Hank would have told him most of the details the night before. They always kept each other updated on how he was doing. Allen’s eyes thinned somewhat as he noticed the plate of toast that had been pushed aside untouched. Judging by how dry it looked, he assumed it had been there for some time.

“I’m sure that’ll do wonders for your cynophobia.” Richard clicked his tongue and closed his book. His head hurt so much he could barely focus on the words, and now Allen was there to distract him. “You barely touched your breakfast.” Richard glanced at the toast and sighed, pushing it even further out of reach and getting to his feet. He didn’t put much weight on his injured leg. It would support his weight fine, but it hurt like hell.

“I had a rabies shot.” That was explanation enough. Richard usually suffered some minor side-effects from medication, so the nausea was almost to be expected. “I need to go back three times over the next few weeks for boosters, too.” Allen huffed sympathetically. That would put Richard in a foul mood for the foreseeable future. He was always grouchy when he didn’t feel well, and the pain would likely mean he was riding less as well. Richard wasn’t sure what to do with himself as he limped through to the living room and sat in his armchair.

“Do you think any of the wolves had rabies?” Allen asked as he took the second chair. There was nothing that needed his immediate attention, so he could keep Richard company for a while. It would be just Richard’s luck if he actually got bitten by a sick animal. Things hadn’t been going well for him lately where his health was concerned. Richard shrugged as he sat back and ran his tired eyes along the bookcase.

“I don’t know, I don’t think so. They looked thin, but I don’t recall any frothing at the mouth. It’s probably just a precaution.” Better to be vaccinated to prevent it than to not bother and end up dying. Sixty had also been vaccinated, and was currently staying in the barn. Sumo had come out of retirement for the time being to watch over the sheep, which Hank was keeping close to home until Sixty was back on his feet. His wounds had been flushed and stapled, and he’d been given shots. It would be a bed of straw and tinned food for him until those wounds started closing. “I had no idea there were wolves around here!” Richard grumbled, thinking back to when he and Hank had walked home through the fields. What if they’d been attacked?

“It’s pretty rare for them to come in so close to town. They’re usually a good ten kilometres away from here at least. It must be a pretty harsh winter this year…” The wolves had looked half-starved, so food must be scarce in the wider forest. Either that, or another pack had forced them out of their usual territory. Or something else…Whatever the case, Hank would have to be more vigilant of his sheep for the next few weeks. “Oh, right! Speaking of winter, Christmas is coming. You want me to bring you a tree?” Richard almost rolled his eyes. They were barely done with November, and he was already thinking about Christmas?

“Why do you look more excited about this than me?” He couldn’t actually recall the last time he’d bothered with a Christmas tree. As a boy, he’d been at school or his parents’ home for the holidays, and as he got older, he’d been at Allen’s place. He would have been fine alone, but Allen always insisted, as did his parents. No one should be alone for Christmas.

“This is your first year in this house, and it’s in the perfect place for getting a real tree! I’ll bet there’s a tree market somewhere around here where you can adopt the same tree every year.” That was the sort of thing Hank would probably know about. Richard huffed and leaned his chin on his hand. Allen’s eyes were alight with the excitement of bringing home a little Christmas cheer. “And since this is your first year here, I was thinking maybe we could visit you for a change. And Hank will be here, so it’ll be like a proper family Christmas!” The idea of inviting Allen’s parents over had never crossed his mind, but it did seem fair after all the times they’d kept him for Christmas. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the room. The old farmhouse was huge.

“That sounds nice.” He was sure Allen’s parents would love to see their stables and meet the horses. They were in the same business and might have a few tips or contacts for people in the market for new stock. “Maybe you could all spend a few days here.” It seemed a waste to just spend one night, and he was sure Allen could find someone to watch their stables for a day or two. It seemed Allen agreed as he leaped into making plans. They’d have to go shopping for decorations. Richard didn’t own any. Food was another issue, though he was quite sure Hank would know the best place to get local produce.

Richard was exhausted by the time Allen hurried off to find Hank, and his headache felt much worse. It didn’t help that it sounded like Hank had decided to do some yard work. There was the occasional clatter of wood, hum of a drill, and bang of a hammer. It got to the point he thought of going to yell at him to knock it off, but that would be unfair. If there was work to be done, it couldn’t be helped. It wasn’t Hank’s fault he had a headache. Grinding his teeth, Richard heaved himself up and hobbled back to the kitchen for a glass of water and some painkillers.

“What the-” Looking through the kitchen window, he saw that Hank wasn’t working in his own yard at all. He was working on the fence between their properties. Curious, Richard limped his way to the back door and slipped into his boots. Connor barked excitedly as he saw him and hopped to his feet, swishing his tail back and forth. “What are you doing?” Richard asked as he approached the coop, where Nines was frolicking with his hens. Hank was kneeling on the ground by a one of the fence posts. The slats of wood had been removed, and he was busily screwing hinges into the thick post.

“I was going to surprise you,” Hank huffed as he sat on his heels. Richard frowned as he finally reached what was left of his fence beside the coop and leaned against it with a wince. Hank had been busy that morning, it seemed. Using spare wood from his barn and the old slats from the fence, he’d knocked together what looked like a gate. “We’re going back and forth a lot more now, and with all these injuries you keep getting, I thought it might be more practical for us to have a proper gate rather than climbing over all the time.” Richard’s cheeks heated a little at the thought. It was practical and maybe Hank was mainly doing it for convenience, but it seemed like more than that.

“That’s thoughtful…”

“You don’t like the idea?” Richard felt a little flustered at being put on the spot. It was hard to read what Hank was thinking as he looked at the space he’d made. He was probably thinking of how much hassle it would be to put everything back to the way it was before. Richard set a hand on his large shoulder, quietly reassuring him.

“I-I like it, I just wasn’t expecting you to…” Allen had said more than once that he didn’t think Hank was going anywhere. This made it feel a lot more real. All neighbours had fences lining their properties, but it was rare for them to put a gate between them to allow for free movement. Putting the gate in suggested Hank expected to be going back and forth for some time to come. The gate made a lot of sense when he thought about it. They’d been going between the two houses for over six months at this point. They were pretty much living together, only no decision had been made on which house to use. Richard’s house had become their lunchtime dwelling while Hank’s house was where they spent most evenings these days.

“What? You didn’t think I’d stick around long enough to need one?” Hank chuckled as he looked up. The pink running up Richard’s neck was enough to confirm that’s what he was thinking. Pushing to his feet with a groan, Hank looped his arms around Richard’s waist and pulled him closer. He was careful, being sure not to pull him around too much with his injured leg. Richard turned into his embrace and gripped Hank’s upper arms to ease the pressure on his thigh. “Didn’t I tell you not two months ago that I wasn’t going anywhere?” Richard nodded meekly as Hank gave him a smouldering grin and leaned in to butt his forehead. “You’re stuck with me.”

Not waiting for an answer, Hank tilted his head and leaned in until Richard’s lips brushed his own. It was almost habit now as Richard’s hands moved up to clutch his shoulders and his lips parted in invitation. Hank didn’t miss a minute in pulling him closer and teasing his tongue with his own. The usual little whine rumbled in Richard’s throat, prompting Hank to tighten his grip and cup the back of his head. Richard barely managed to steal a breath as aged fingers laced in his short hair and bristles stung his lips. An excited bark pulled them apart, and they both turned to see Connor wagging his tail and staring at them with large hazel eyes.

“Looks like Connor agrees,” Hank huffed as they parted. It certainly seemed that way as Connor padded closer and looked at them hopefully. Hank patted his head with a chuckle and sent him zipping off across the yard so he could finish his work in peace. Richard joined him, quietly watching him work as he screwed in the large hinges, and helping as he attached the gate. Richard held it steady while Hank screwed it into place. The last thing it needed was a bolt to keep it shut. In order to screw in the bolt, Hank pushed the gate shut, which led to Connor staring at him like a kicked puppy. “Don’t look at me like that! This fence has always been closed!”

It had always been closed, yes. But now he knew it could open, and there was a way to get into Richard’s yard. Connor barked and shuffled back a few paces, tail still wagging. Richard huffed softly as he watched Connor sit and whine in reproach. It seemed he remembered that Sumo had been allowed in the yard before while he had not. Catching Richard’s eye, Connor panted happily and lifted his paw, almost like he was pointing. Richard chuckled as he started pawing the grass softly and bowing his head towards the gate. He didn’t know if it was something Hank had taught him, but it looked like he was asking permission.

“What do you think? Shall we let Connor be the first to test the gate?” Richard asked, chuckling as Connor pricked his ears and got to his feet. Hank hummed softly as he locked the bolt and tested the fit. It looked like the screws were holding, and the bolt was at the right height to slide across. As Hank stood, Connor turned in excited circles and wagged his tail. Hank smiled and looked sideways at Richard. He was doing much better with dogs these days. Well, with Sumo and Connor at least…He was still petrified of Sixty.

“What do you think? You want to try the gate?” Connor barked his agreement and backed up. “Alright, come on.” Hank pulled the gate inwards and Connor bounded through, leaving Hank and Richard by the fence as he zipped around the yard. Richard leaned on the fence and watched with a huff as Connor padded along the grassy flowerbeds below the windows, snuffling the ground to pick up any interesting scents. It didn’t take him long to make his way to the chicken coop to snuffle the mesh. With a flap of wings and an indignant squark, Nines appeared at the mesh. Connor had never been this side of the fence, so he’d never been so close to Nines’ chickens. Connor tilted his head and hunkered down as if to play, which made Nines fluff his glossy feathers and caw.

“Well, that’s something I never thought I’d see.” Allen was back, circling around from the stables with a bag on his arm. Judging by how quickly Connor raised his head, Richard could only assume he had something edible in there. Allen laughed and patted Connor’s head as he raced over and jumped on his hind legs to plant his paws on Allen’s thighs. Being used to excitable dogs, Allen was ready for him and ruffled his long fur until he was panting.

“Connor, don’t jump up, it’s rude!” Hank chided as he hurried over to get him down.

“He’s alright. He can probably smell the bones,” Allen said as he raised the bag. Connor licked his chops and wagged his tail in agreement. “I hope you don’t mind, but I was at the butchers this morning and thought Sixty could use a little pick-me-up. I didn’t forget Connor and Sumo though,” he added in a stage whisper that made Connor turn in excited circles. Hank chuckled softly as Connor looked up at him as if asking permission.

“That’s mighty nice of you. You hear that, Connor? What do you say?” Sitting down, Connor lifted his paw and barked. “Good boy.” Panting happily, Connor stood and waited patiently as Allen opened his bag and pulled out a large cattle bone. Hank had little concern about whether it was safe to eat. As an experienced dog owner, Allen knew well enough to get the raw bones from a respected local butcher. Connor was extremely gentle as he reached up to take it between his teeth and waited patiently for Allen to release the bone before padding away.

“Is Sixty up for visitors?” Allen asked almost eagerly, making Hank chuckle as he opened the gate.

“I reckon he’ll make an exception for you.” He’d never seen Sixty take to anyone the way he’d taken to Allen. The fluffy behemoth was like a puppy in Allen’s capable hands. Taking that as permission, Allen passed through the gate with Connor and headed through to the barn. Richard watched as Connor circled the fence and settled down to gnaw his bone in peace. “You’re doing much better with the boys these days…It might be time for you to have one of your own, hm?”

“Have a what?” Richard wasn’t sure he liked where this conversation was going.

“A dog!” He balked at the very suggestion, almost glaring up at Hank. “You have livestock to protect, and with these wolves showing up in the area, I’d feel better if you had a good dog around the yard.” Oh, well, so long as you’d feel better! Richard scoffed at the idea. Sure, he’d gotten used to Connor and Sumo, but they were special. They were well trained and gentle. Overall, he was still terrified of dogs. Hank’s arm tightened around him. “We just have to find the right match!” Richard frowned at that.

“I don’t need my own dog!”

“Sure you do! Sumo’s retired now, Sixty guards my livestock, and Connor’s a herding dog. You need a dog to patrol your property and chase off unwelcome guests.” Richard clicked his tongue and folded his arms, unwilling to argue. “He’d also keep your horses where they’re supposed to be and stop them wandering off.” So that’s what this was about. Hank was worried one or more of his horses would go rogue and get him in trouble again.

“I don’t need a dog!” Richard turned and headed back to the house, looking up as Hank remained at his side.

“You do too.”

“Do not!”

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

“Do too.” Richard lost count of the back and forth by the time they reached the back door, but even the insistent press Hank’s lips on his didn’t stop the debate. It was only after his back hit the wall and he was hoisted off the floor that he lost track of the argument and who was winning.

Chapter Text

“So, you have a gate now…That’s serious.” Richard balked at Allen’s teasing. He knew by his tone that he was teasing. Despite that, there was a marked note of approval within it. As far back as he could remember, Allen had never approved of his partners the way he did Hank. Granted, they were usually brief entanglements brought about by his winning streak on the track. Even when he got emotionally invested and swept away with the attention, Allen was quick to scare the gold-diggers off. By the time he retired, Richard had pretty much given up on making an honest connection. Romance had always been a trade for him. Sexual favours for physical protection and companionship in school, and romance for money after.

“It’s not! It’s just a gate…” Allen snorted in disbelief as he continued mucking out his current stall. Richard remained where he was, leaning on the wall. Allen had told him not to do anything physical until his leg healed up a little more and the medication stopped making him feel sick. Despite that, he got bored staying in the house and limped his way to the stables for company. “It’s more convenient!” Allen paused in his task to lean on the pitchfork, grinning from ear to ear.

“Exactly! It’s more convenient because you’re seeing each other so much, and he intends to continue seeing you.” That much was true, and Hank had said he wasn’t going anywhere. It was nice to have that reassurance. It made it feel more like they were dating than just sleeping together. Staying with each other and spending time together was just what people did when they were dating. Did that mean it was serious? Richard had no idea. None of his relationships had gone this far. “Why do you look unconvinced?” Do I?

“Why do you think a gate for convenience is serious?” What did serious even mean? At what point was a relationship considered serious? When two people started seeing each other more than three times a week? If they moved in together? How did you even make a marked commitment to someone? Richard had never considered that it could just happen. He’d thought there would be some sort of formal conversation. A request and acceptance.

“How is it not? It pretty much combines your properties!”

“I wouldn’t go that far. It’s just a gate.” Allen sighed and went back to shovelling. Most neighbours didn’t have access to each other’s property like that. You had to be really good friends or more for that to happen. He decided not to argue the point out loud. Richard would probably think he and Hank were just good friends with benefits. Perhaps that’s how things had started last year, but neither of them could deny they were dating at this point. They went out for dinner regularly, saw each other every day, and pretty much shared a residence.

“You pretty much live together!”

“Isn’t that normal when people are dating?” Allen hummed, wondering how much he should explain. It wasn’t that people who dated didn’t stay with each other regularly, and there were those who would go for years living in separate houses and seeing each other two or three times a week. In the city, with regular jobs, that’s just how things worked. When it came to agreeing to move in together, that meant things were serious. You were combining incomes, paying for a single place, maybe even disrupting your routine. For Hank and Richard, it was a little different. They both owned their own houses right next to each other. Nothing had changed, despite them spending all that time in each other’s houses.

“When most people start living together, it’s usually considered serious.”

“We’re not living together though.” It was true he’d spent the past three months solid sleeping at Hank’s house, but they had lunch regularly at his place. He also returned to his house to shower and change. All his riding gear was still kept in his own house. He liked his house. There was no lingering dog smell or muddy paw prints. His kitchen was spotless, and everything was in its proper place. Hank’s house was a tip in comparison. He was forever picking up odd items and Hank was forever telling him he didn’t have to.

“You are! You just split your time between both houses!” Richard scoffed in disbelief. That’s what people did when they were dating! They alternated between houses, usually spending a lot more time in one than the other. “The only reason you two haven’t made a decision about which house to live in permanently is because you live right next door and you both own your houses outright. When was the last time you slept alone besides that time you were in the hospital?” Richard had no answer for that. He couldn’t actually remember. Near the start of their relationship, they’d parted on the doorstep most nights, but Hank had gradually started spending the night at his house. Then, once he got used to the dogs, they’d started spending a lot more time at Hank’s house. “Exactly.”

“Well, if things are serious, what am I supposed to do about it?” Allen stopped working again to throw a bewildered look over his shoulder. It was sometimes hard to believe that Richard was in his forties when he asked questions like that. There were still some simple areas where he fell flat. This was the sort of thing he’d expect a teen to ask their father or older friends about.

“You don’t have to do anything. If things are working for you as they are, then why change them? But you should know things are serious, and Hank clearly sees you as more than just a casual fling.” That was good. Though he hesitated to put a label on it, it was safe to say that Richard saw Hank as more than just a fuck buddy as well. “I’m happy for you.” He was also relieved. Richard hadn’t had much luck with romance over the years and he was beginning to think his hopeless friend would end up spending his life alone before Hank came along. Richard clicked his tongue and looked away, though he was unable to hide the pink climbing up his neck.

“You say that like I’m a hopeless case!” Allen grinned and remained silent. You are a hopeless case! “I’m going to check on my chickens.” Allen chuckled as Richard left. It was a little early for Hank yet, but the chicken coop seemed to be where Richard went when he wanted to think these days. He limped his way around the stables and into his yard, quietly grumbling. Hopeless case! I’ll give him a hopeless case! I can take care of myself just fine! Allen had never said he couldn’t, but that was beside the point. The chickens knew he was coming as he opened the garage. They could hear the feed bucket rattling.

As usual, Nines skittered up to meet him as he opened the pen and stepped inside. The chickens were more interested in the feed than their owner, happily clucking and pecking at the earth as he scattered some feed for them. Nines seemed much calmer these days. Like Hank and Richard, he had a steady relationship going with Gavin. Their visits were still regular, and both roosters were keeping their flocks more than satisfied. It would be a couple of months before chick season really began, but Richard was pretty sure he’d get a good number that year.

“Hi Nines, how are you doing?” he asked with a groan as he picked him up and cradled him against his chest. Nines cooed in greeting, happily tucking his feet against Richard’s arm to perch and accept whatever pets he would give. Richard sighed happily as he looked around the pen. The coop was open, and the hens were all out in the pen that day. It was chilly but still sunny, and the ground was dry since it hadn’t rained that week. It was peaceful in the yard. Connor was off with Hank on his rounds, and Gavin was quiet that day. Sixty was still shut in the barn, likely sleeping off his breakfast, while Sumo was sitting in the distant field with the sheep. The neighing of horses drifted across from his own field, where he could see Bramble frolicking with Treacle and Mellow. With the weather getting colder, they were wearing their turnout blankets to ward off the wind and rain, though they probably didn’t need them now the day had properly started. It had been a lot colder when he’d let them loose at five that morning.

With a sigh, Richard set Nines down and went to check on the coop. Both the pen and coop needed to be tended to regularly, changing the bedding and such. He’d swept up the pen two days ago, and the coop itself was still clean. He usually changed the bedding every week and fully scrubbed it down once a month. Hank had suggested sprinkling baking soda to ward off mites, which was working as far as he could tell. Luther had never said there was a mite problem during any checkups and they all seemed glossy, happy, and healthy. Much like with the horses, Richard scooped up some of the clearly soiled bedding and tossed down some fresh shavings. It was a relatively small job, barely twenty minutes. Nowhere near enough time to keep him distracted.

“Richie!” Looking up, he saw Hank heading across the yard with Connor on his heels. Richard stepped out to meet him with a smile and accepted the whiskery kiss on his lips in greeting. “I thought you were supposed to be resting your leg today.” Rather than climbing over the fence, Hank opened the new gate and stepped through with Connor on his heels. It seemed Connor had taken his initial invitation as a permanent one as he snuffled his way around the yard and padded to the coop. Nines once again fluffed up to defend his territory as Connor hunkered down and wagged his tail.

“I haven’t been pushing myself, it’s just a little maintenance.” Hank huffed softly as they walked up to the house. He left the gate open for Connor to return to the yard as he pleased, but he seemed content to sit by the coop. It was lunchtime, and Hank had returned as usual to eat with Richard.

“Did Allen get to the tree market yet? All the good ones will be gone if he doesn’t hurry.” They’d talked about the market the week before, with much eye rolling from Richard. Hank set about slicing the loaf of bread and finding the ham while Richard boiled the kettle and bustled about making tea. It had become part of their routine, and they easily stepped around each other as they worked.

“No, how about you?”

“I used to get the same tree every year, but I haven’t really bothered with Christmas since…you know.” Richard nodded stiffly, as he always did when Hank’s thoughts turned to his deceased family. It was no wonder he rarely celebrated. They were silent for a while after that. Hank continued making ham sandwiches, lost in thought, while Richard waited for the kettle to shriek. Licking his lips, Richard glanced at Hank, hesitant to speak on it further.

“I-I know I invited you over this year, but if it’s too much or you have something else you usually do, I-” Hank’s lips silenced him, cutting him off with a surprised hum.

“I want to spend Christmas with you. Can’t live in the past forever, right?” Richard nodded, wondering how true that was. He didn’t want Hank to force himself just because they were dating. It might bring up sad memories. Bristly lips touched his temple again as a hand teased his hip. “I mean it. I won’t say I’m over it because it’s not the sort of thing you get over, but I’ve moved on from it enough that I can still enjoy the holidays with you and Allen’s family.” It would be nice to meet them. Richard never spoke of his own family, but he’d spent multiple years at the Allens’ at Christmas. They were more like brothers than friends. After all this time, Hank considered Allen to be a close friend, too. He’d helped him out a lot concerning his relationship with Richard.

“Yeah…” There was a telltale stiffness in Richard’s shoulders as he poured hot water into the teapot and avoided his eyes.

“You’re not?” Hank worried at first if it was his presence that made Richard worry. They didn’t have to make their relationship obvious if it made him uncomfortable, though it gave Hank mixed feelings. As Richard sighed, he began to wonder if he was jumping to conclusions. What else could be bothering him about the get together?

“I don’t usually go in for Christmas either, and this is my first time having people over. I don’t know what to do.” Is that all? Having people over for Christmas wasn’t that different to the rest of the year, though Richard didn’t seem to have visitors at all besides Allen.

“It should be simple enough…All you have to do is make sure they have somewhere to sleep, with good food and drink available.” It sounded simple when he put it like that. He already had multiple guest rooms that were kept clean and tidy. All he had to do was make up a couple of beds. As for food, it wasn’t like he was incapable of cooking, though Allen was a lot better at it. But it was Christmas. That meant his house should be merry and festive. Two words that rarely applied to him. “Don’t worry so much! We’ll get you a tree, put up a few decorations, buy in some food, wrap a few presents, and everything will be fine! It’s not like you’re having strangers over!” That was true. Allen and his family were well aware of his awkward nature. Maybe having Hank there would help. He was outgoing and likeable, and Allen had taken to him right away.

“I don’t have any decorations.”

“That’s easily solved! The Christmas Market is in full swing at this time of year. You can pick up all sorts there.” Richard nodded along, feeling better as they finished up and sat down for lunch. “We also need to talk about your present. I think I found the perfect thing, but I want you to meet him first.” Him? Richard balked right away, stomach churning as he looked up at Hank. “I know you’re sceptical, but trust me! You’ll love him.” Richard was pretty sure that he wouldn’t, if Hank meant what he thought he meant. He’d said more than once that he didn’t want a yard dog, and each time it came up, Hank said the same thing. With wolves about, he needed some extra protection for himself and his horses. He couldn’t just rely on Sixty to act as a deterrent.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea…”

“Just come and meet him.” That sounded even worse! How many other dogs would be there? “I guarantee you’ll fall for him right away.” Richard doubted it. Even with Sumo, the soppiest behemoth imaginable, it had taken months to get them in the same room. Despite his reservations, it was very difficult to refuse when Hank was so eager and sure of himself. He was also quietly sure he’d wake up to find the hound in his yard if he didn’t agree to meet it elsewhere.

“Fine, but you’re not leaving me alone with it.” Hank chuckled softly as he rubbed his back. He’d never intended to for an instant. Even with Connor and Sumo, it had taken months before he would have even thought of leaving Richard alone in the same room with them. Not because he didn’t trust his dogs, but because of how Richard felt.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Chapter Text

It took a further week for Hank to finally drag Richard to the shelter. He put it off multiple times with the excuses of training, Christmas shopping, decorating, and food preparation. It was only when Hank asked him in front of Allen and Allen told him not to worry about the decorating that Hank finally had his way. Richard was already trembling before they even reached the car. It was silly really. He already got on pretty well with Connor and Sumo, and he didn’t even flinch when Connor ran up to him anymore. The boisterous collie could also get away with planting his muddy paws on his chest with minimal floundering on Richard’s part. But to Richard, this was different.

This was a loud, noisy, smelly shelter full of god knows how many mangy mutts, and Hank was expecting him to take one of these feral beasts home and let it loose in his yard! Hank seemed to garner some of his thoughts as they drove and gave him a sly smirk. The closer they got to the city, the more Richard’s foot bounced on the floor, bobbing his knee up and down. The light tap of his heel couldn’t be heard over the engine, but Hank caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and set a hand on his thigh anyway.

“Don’t worry! I told you I picked a good one. You’ll love him straight away.” Richard couldn’t fathom where Hank’s confidence came from. The only two dogs he’d ever adapted to were Sumo and Connor, and that was more from gradual exposure than actually liking them.

“I doubt it.” Hank chuckled at the response. He’d expected nothing less, and it would be a lie to say he was a hundred percent confident. He simply hoped that reassuring Richard would make him more receptive to the meeting. The dog he’d chosen had a sweet temperament, which wasn’t ideal for a guard dog, but once he figured out who his master was, he was pretty sure he’d be a great protector. He was also something of a charity case, though he wasn’t about to tell Richard that. Not yet, at least.

On the outskirts of the city, where there was enough space for the dogs to exercise, Hank pulled in to the shelter. There was a long, low barnlike building where the dogs were kept, and a smaller wooden hut for visitors. A series of huge fences surrounded the grounds and separated the kennels from the office. In the yard, it looked like most of the dogs were already out exercising. They ran and played together with a couple of people watching over them to make sure no fights broke out. Looking at the mass of rolling fur and gnashing teeth, Richard wondered which one Hank had chosen for him. He dreaded to think. Hank turned off the engine and watched Richard for a few moments, taking in the look of dread etched into his features as he watched the dogs playing in the field.

“You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Richard grumbled, following Hank’s lead as he climbed out. Hank immediately regretted parking so close to the fences. Despite being a good five feet away, a group of rowdy dogs had already rushed over and started jumping and barking at the mesh as Richard climbed out. Backed against the side of the car, he froze and wouldn’t move until Hank came to get him. Hank chuckled softly as he tucked Richard against his side and locked the doors.

“Don’t worry. They’re just curious.” Richard nodded stiffly and gripped the hand on his shoulder as they walked towards the hut. Inside there was a young woman behind the desk, who seemed to know Hank as she smiled and stood with her clipboard. Hank rubbed Richard’s arm as he led him across to meet her, doing his best to reassure him. She couldn’t have been older than thirty-five, with long wavy curls that were almost as dark as Richard’s and dimples in her cheeks when she smiled. It was pretty cold and the walls of the hut were thin, so it was no surprise that she was wearing thick jeans and a warm fleece. Even Hank and Richard were wearing thick coats that day.

“Hank! It’s good to see you again. Is this Richard?” He’s talked about me? It sort of made sense that he would, given that the dog would be for him. Richard wondered how much he’d told her and whether she thought this whole thing was a good idea. The home environment was supposed to be good for the dog as well as the prospective owner. How was it a good idea to let someone who was terrified of dogs take one home to live outside in the cold?

“Hi Caroline. Yeah, this is Richard.” Richard gave a stiff nod and clenched his teeth as he eyed the clipboard. Was that for him? Did it list his details and preferences? Or was it just information about the dogs they were going to see?

“He’s as nervous as you said! Not to worry. The dogs we have today are those with the calmest temperaments. They’re all well trained, and they won’t jump or bite at all.” Richard scowled at Hank for telling her so much, but he could hardly argue the fact that he was nervous. His voice was stuck, lost somewhere in his stomach. It was nice that they wouldn’t jump or bite, but he’d thought Hank only had one dog in mind. It worried him that there could be more. “I’ll take you through,” Caroline said softly as she led them through the back door and across to the large barnlike building.

The first thing that hit Richard as they entered was the smell. They tried to keep it clean, of course, but the smell of dozens of dogs was hard to scrub clean, especially if some of them had bowel issues and the like. Those dogs probably didn’t last long, but they were still cared for until the end. The inside was much brighter than he’d expected. There were some thin windows in the upper walls, the gates were silver, and the floors and walls were a soft grey colour. It was dull, but better than the black or charcoal Richard had expected.

“It’s these three. Take your time and let me know if you’d like to open the gate to meet them properly.” The first words that sprang into Richard’s mind were absolutely not, and it must have shown in his wide brown eyes as Caroline smiled and stepped away. Richard relaxed slightly once he and Hank had a little more privacy. He wasn’t about to jump for joy, but the three dogs she’d selected were at least quiet. The first was a large black labrador with the nametag Josh. He had soft brown eyes and sat patiently as he looked through the mesh. He wasn’t so bad, but labradors were more family dogs than guard dogs. Next was a giant fluffy beast that looked more like a golden bear than a dog. This one was called Simon, and he panted happily as they approached, wagging his curled tail and walking up to nose the bars.

“What do you think?” Hank murmured as he leaned down and put his fingers through the bars. It seemed Simon was the one Hank had banked on him liking the most. Simon wasted no time in licking Hank’s fingers and snuffling at the bars for more. He was a lot like Sumo as he slobbered and snuffled, and he was certainly friendly. With a non-committal shrug, Richard wandered to the third cage and almost stumbled back. Heaped on the floor was the biggest dog he’d ever had the misfortune of meeting, and yet the beast didn’t move as he faltered.

“W-what is that?” From the fear in his voice, Hank knew he needed a little reassurance. Looping an arm around his shoulders, he joined him in looking down at the sad lump. Unlike Simon, this dog didn’t even stir besides lifting his drooping eyes. They were quite striking, and rare for such a breed. One eye was almost green while the other was a soft blue colour. Looking at the sign, Hank saw his name was Markus, and he was something of a rare breed.

“That’s Markus. He’s an Irish Dane. Very soft natured, good with children and other animals,” Caroline piped up from her place by the wall. Richard hummed softly as he examined the beast. There was something about him. A profound sense of hopelessness and grief. His tail didn’t wag, and he barely even moved as Richard crouched. He’s almost as big as a horse! It was an exaggeration, but the dog was massive. His paws were almost as big as Richard’s palm, and if he stood on his hind legs, he’d probably be as tall as Hank. He had soft jowls and scruffy fur dappled in light and dark brown. His tail was thin and curled around his hind leg, and his ears were soft and floppy, not cut like many other guard dogs.

“Why is he like this?” Richard asked curiously, which seemed to startle Caroline and Hank. He didn’t know why, but it bothered him. The dogs outside seemed lively enough, Simon was friendly, and even Josh looked content, but Markus was the saddest beast Richard had ever seen. Hank joined him, and found he had to agree that Markus had some behavioural problem or other, which probably wouldn’t make him a great option.

“He came to us last year, one of those sad cases where the family bought a cute pup forgetting it would grow into a large breed. They didn’t have the space or money to keep up with him. Irish Danes are among the largest breed of dog, as you can see, which means they get passed over quite a lot. It also means we can’t keep them on long term, unfortunately.” Richard blinked and gave Caroline a sidelong glance. She almost looked guilty. Does that mean…He wasn’t sure how to find out without asking, but he was pretty sure his assumption was right. If the shelter couldn’t keep an animal and no one adopted it, there was really only one thing they could do. “H-he really is a great dog…I could open the gate for you, if you like?” Richard wasn’t sure he liked the hope in her tone, but part of him was curious.

“What do you think? I’ll be here the whole time.” With Hank’s added assurance, Richard nodded. Markus’ sad eyes followed as Caroline unlocked the door and Richard appeared in the doorway. The kennel was really too small for Markus’ size, which was probably a sign of how few big dogs they kept in this shelter. He had a little room on either side, but it was barely big enough for him to turn around, though he at least had enough space to stretch out. “Go ahead, I’m right here.” Hank remained close behind as Richard’s toe crossed the doorway. He paused in case Markus took offense to it, but when he didn’t move, Richard slowly sank into a crouch.

“Hi…” He wasn’t sure what else to say. Markus still didn’t move, but he did watch as Richard edged further inside and rested his back against the wall. Since the behemoth still didn’t stir, Richard felt a little better about stretching out his hand. He paused just in front of Markus’ black nose, giving him a chance to smell him, before stroking up his whiskery snout. Laying his palm flat, he stroked the top of his head and teased his floppy ears before sliding his palm along his large shoulder.

“Would you look at that,” Hank murmured with a soft chuckle as Markus’ tail twitched. It was slow at first, just a single tap, but as Richard settled down and continued to pet him, his tail wagged faster. His ears pricked with interest as the teasing fingers returned, and seconds later, he’d lifted his gigantic head to set it on Richard’s knees. Richard’s heart thundered into overdrive as he sat on the floor, very conscious of the enormous jaws now resting on his thighs. “I think he likes you.” Richard clicked his tongue. Markus would probably like anyone who gave him a little attention after being cooped up in a shoebox for a year.

“Maybe you’d like to take him for a walk? See how you get on outside?” Caroline offered hopefully, though Markus seemed pretty content in the kennel as he fell on his side, trapping Richard against the wall and giving him access to his stomach. With the jaws now facing away from him, Richard felt a little braver as he rubbed down Markus’ side and under his front leg, which lifted in approval as he rubbed his chest.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Hank replied quietly, taking over so that Richard could continue fawning over the huge hound. While Caroline hurried off to fetch his collar and lead, Hank watched with affection as Richard cooed and pampered the neglected pup, and a pup he was. Markus was barely two years old, and Hank wasn’t even sure he’d finished growing yet, though he had to be close to full-sized. When Caroline returned, she called Markus over, which almost gave Richard a heart attack as he pushed to his feet and towered over him. Hank chuckled as he helped Richard up and they watched Caroline fasten a thick collar around Markus’ neck.

“He’s pretty familiar with the area, so he shouldn’t pull too much. If you have any trouble though, I recommend a body harness. It makes big dogs easier to control.” Hank took the lead with thanks. It was just a simple chain that clipped to the collar, not a choke chain or extendable lead. That was probably good enough for a short walk along the road. Since they were still outside the city, there were many small dirt roads along the surrounding fields. Since she knew Hank, Caroline was happy to let them go out alone, so Hank held the lead and led the way out.

“We’ll just take him on a sort loop around the neighbouring field,” he decided as he let Markus walk a little ahead. Richard was nervous as he walked at his side, holding his elbow as they headed out to the main road. There was a path on their side of the road, which took them to a small opening in the bushes and into a neglected field. The grass was as high as Richard’s knees where it hadn’t been trodden down, but there was a flattened path leading around the field that was clearly walked regularly. “What do you think? He certainly looks the part, doesn’t he?” Hank asked as they turned, pausing as Markus snuffled the grass.

“He’s almost the size of a horse!” Richard huffed, and Hank wondered if that played some part in Richard not being too afraid of him. The hand on his arm was relaxed. He wasn’t gripping his sleeve for comfort or huddling against his side like before. There was also no trace of the trembles and stiffness he’d suffered before. Something about Markus’ demeanour had left him feeling pretty relaxed.

“Well, that means he’d be at home around the stables, right? You wouldn’t want him getting trampled because the horses can’t see him!” Though he was joking, Richard did agree it was a valid concern. A small dog might surprise a horse and make them bolt, but Markus was so big they’d see him coming a mile off, and he seemed so gentle he was pretty sure the horses wouldn’t feel scared once they got used to him. They certainly never seemed bothered by Sixty when he was in the next field, so it wasn’t like they’d never seen a dog before. His sheer size and the smell of him being there might be enough to scare off those wolves, too.

“Maybe…” There were still some things to be considered. Such a big dog would need a pretty hefty diet, and certain breeds of dogs came with a bunch of health issues, too. But vet bills were a risk with any animal, and Luther was only a short way away.

“Just give him a chance! This is supposed to be your time to get to know each other,” Hank added as he offered him the lead. Richard eyed it distrustfully. Markus was so large he could probably tuck his head under his arm as they walked, and if he decided to take off, Richard would be pulled face first through the grass and mud. Pressing the lead closer, Hank waited until Richard gingerly reached up and took the leather handle. Markus’ ears twitched, and he looked over his shoulder at the change, but made no other reaction. Richard wasn’t as used to walking dogs as Hank, and often found himself pulled off course by Markus’ sheer size and strength. If Markus wanted to stop and bury his nose in the grass, that’s exactly what he’d do, regardless of Richard being attached to the lead.

Still, Richard couldn’t deny the appeal of having a beast like Markus around. He’d certainly do the job of protecting the yard. Who knows? Maybe Connor and Sumo would even come to like him. Sixty, he wasn’t so sure of. That dog didn’t seem the friendly type, though he grudgingly admitted he’d protected him that time in the forest. Now they were outside, Markus had perked up a bit as well. He was panting happily as they looped the field and never padded too far out of Richard’s short reach. When he felt the chain tug, he always stopped and looked back, making sure Richard caught up.

Hank took a step back, slowing his pace so Markus and Richard could walk ahead. He wanted to be close enough to help if anything happened, but he also wanted Richard to get to know Markus a little. This would be his dog, after all. Hank likely wouldn’t be there for every single interaction. He needed to make sure Markus was a dog that Richard could handle being around by himself. The last thing he wanted was to come back one day and find him huddled in some corner or other, too terrified to move. It seemed he didn’t need to worry about that with Markus though. He didn’t even hesitate to rub his wiry fur as they walked, and Hank was even sure he heard him calling Markus a handsome fellow at some point.

“So? What do you think?” Hank asked, finally catching up to loop his arm around Richard’s smaller shoulders. Richard hummed softly. The idea of getting a dog still didn’t thrill him, but he knew it was a sensible move with the wolves about, and if he had to get a dog, why not Markus? Caroline was right about his temperament. He was very sweet natured. The only tugs on his lead had been accidental, and his steps had slowed to walk at Richard’s pace rather than pulling him to make him quicken his pace. “I could ask Caroline to give us a few days, but…” Hank nodded towards Markus, who glanced over his shoulder as if he knew he was the topic of conversation. Richard pursed his lips as they returned to the main road.

“You know…that kennel is quite small. He can’t be comfortable in there.” Hank smirked at Richard’s words and hummed his agreement. “Even the bed looks too small for him! And he’s miserable! You saw it, right?” Hank definitely couldn’t argue with that part. Markus was a sad specimen, or had been when they’d first arrived. Being out with Richard seemed to have perked him up a bit. As they returned to the shelter, however, Hank noticed those tail wags slow.

“Definitely…Look at his tail now.” Richard followed Hank’s direction and noted the gradual droop, and it was the same with his ears. His whole body seemed heavier as they returned, until his plodding paws faltered and he looked over his shoulder with a forlorn air. “I bet they’re not feeding him right, either. Probably dry kibble with meat once a month.” Richard hummed, apparently deeply troubled by this development. Due to his size, Hank was probably right. A shelter likely couldn’t afford to give him meat often. Apparently smelling a chance of escape, Markus turned to face Richard and gazed up with those sad, mismatched eyes.

“…I’ll take him.”