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The sound of a single arrow whipped through the air, cutting the silence like a knife.
Thud.
The soon-to-be carcass of a large buck collapsed to the ground with an audible slump. A squawk escaped the things lips, weak and sorrowful yet loud and startled. Blood quickly pooled out of its neck where the arrow had pierced neatly through fur and flesh, striking all the way to the bone. The thick substance seeped into the ground below, staining the grass red. It was all over in a matter of moments, before the buck even knew what had happened. It laid in a slump amongst the flowers, sinking into the tall grass.
“Gotcha, you little bastard!” Hosea cheered to himself, grinning wide. He was half a kilometre away, bow in his hands and binoculars around his neck, crouched behind a rock. He pulled the binoculars up to his eyes to confirm his kill before putting the bow away, satisfied with what he saw. He groaned as he stood up, immediately swooping down to brush the dirt off his knees. They popped loudly, and he chose to ignore them. He whistled for his horse, and grabbed the black leather reins as the animal trotted over. He led him to the clearing where the carcass lay still, warm and twitching. Hosea seemed to take a moment, looking between Silver Dollar and the dead deer whilst chewing on his lip.
“Guess I got a little ahead of myself again, eh boy?” Hosea chuckled in the direction of his beloved steed, who shook his head in agreement. Hosea was, of course, referring to the sheer size of the deer. It was massive. He’d promised Dutch he’d only go after smaller game, so he wouldn’t throw his back out hauling the prizes on top of Silver Dollar. In his defence, the deer had looked much smaller all those feet away.
Hosea sighed, waging a mental battle with himself. He could skin it here, but bring less back to camp, or he could pray to god his knees could still handle lifting all that extra weight. After a while, he nudged the deer with his foot. It lolled over slightly, and an impish twinkle appeared in the old man’s eye. Maybe, just maybe, he could lift it after all.
He bent forward, throwing caution to the wind and digging his hands under the fuzzy animal. He tried to scoop it up, rolling it towards his chest. It was going well so far, but now it was time for the hard part. He squatted down, redistributing his weight before standing back up. With a mighty groan he struggled upright, his legs shaking ever so slightly and his arms twitching with the sudden strain. Silver Dollar helped all he could, trotting as close as possible and trying to bend down. With great effort, Hosea hoisted the deer just behind the saddle, and immediately slumped into himself once it was stable. His chest heaved with the force of his breathing, and sweat beaded down his face. His back was screaming at him, and his knees threatened to buckle. A hollow laugh escaped him, and he looked up at Silver Dollar. He nudged Hosea’s cheek with his snout, a loving and trusting embrace.
“Still got it.” His voice was harsh and airy, with no strength behind it at all. He took a moment to rest before standing upright once more, and securing the animal with strong ropes. Once the whole thing was nice and tight, he placed his foot on the stirrup and hoisted himself up, falling neatly into the tan saddle. He patted Silver Dollar’s neck encouragingly a handful of times before grabbing the reins and steering away.
The walk back to camp would be long, but he was sure that in the summer's hazy morning air it would be quite relaxing.
-
As Hosea strolled back into camp, the clip-clop of Silver Dollar’s hooves on the trail still fresh in his ears, he couldn’t help but take immediate notice of how deserted the place looked. The regularly full hitching posts were empty, and he couldn’t hear anything. No talking, no arguing, no laughs or jeers. Even if he pulled out his binoculars and squinted all the way down into the lakefront, he felt he wouldn’t see a soul. That is, except for Dutch. And, of course, for Micah, who'd screeched at him for an identification once he'd barely crossed the threshold. Hosea only rolled his eyes, ignoring the unsettling man as he trotted by.
Sitting alone by the campfire, placed neatly in the middle of all affairs, was Dutch Van Der Linde. He held a book in one hand and a cigar in the other, plumes of gray smoke puffing out through his nostrils. He hadn’t noticed Hosea yet, much too far away to hear his horse’s padded footsteps on the tall stalks of grass.
It was only when Hosea dismounted and moved to undo the ropes did Dutch happen to look up. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he saw the deer on Silver Dollar’s back, all the excitement from seeing his partner getting lost in the adrenaline suddenly pumping through his veins. He threw down his book and his cigar and jogged over, hoping to reach him before he attempted to pick up the animal again.
“Hosea Matthews!” Dutch called out, his mighty voice booming all throughout the camp. Hosea whipped his head around, eyes wide and waiting. A small grin appeared on his lips once he saw the man behind the voice, and he didn’t break eye contact as the ropes flopped down to either side of the deer.
“Dutch Van Der Linde!" Hosea grin spread wide as Dutch came up to his side, hands on his hips.
“Would you mind telling me where, oh where, have you been?” Dutch frowned, furrowing his eyebrows. The jog over had knocked the air out of him, and he tried valiantly to hide his huffing and puffing.
Hosea patted the deer’s carcass in response, a muted thumping sound muffled by layers of fat and fur. “Huntin’.”
“I can see that,” Dutch inhaled sharply through his nose. “Small game, Hosea, small game! Not…not the biggest god-damn deer in the woods! You could’ve broken your back lifting that thing. We had an agreement!” Dutch gestured wildly at the deer, frustration flashing in his eyes. Hosea brushed him off, taking Silver Dollar by the reins once again. He started down the trail, towards Pearson’s wagon, while motioning for Dutch to follow him. Not that he had to, of course, as Dutch was hot on his heels.
“I managed just fine. And look, now Arthur doesn’t have to go! Boy’s got enough to do, we can’t be sending him on hunting trips every three days.”
“That is not the point, Hosea!” Dutch groaned behind him, dragging his hands down his face. Hosea tried to hide a chuckle. Riling Dutch up had always been entertaining for him, and today was no different.
As he approached Pearson’s wagon, he dropped the reins. Silver Dollar knew what to do, lining himself up with the donation table. Hosea stepped over to it, simply rolling the deer off the horse's back and letting it thud onto the old wood. The table shook, but accepted the weight without buckling. Once the deed was done, Silver Dollar accepted a carrot from Hosea’s hand and marched towards the hay bales, head held high.
“There.” Hosea rubbed his hands together, still smiling. His bright, proud face was a direct contrast to Dutch’s, who couldn’t have looked more incensed.
“Hosea.”
“Dutch, I’m fine. It’s one deer, and I got all of us back here in one piece. I’m just old, I’m not made of glass.” Hosea rolled his eyes once again, looking around the wagon.
“If you're looking for Pearson, he’s out fishing.” Dutch sighed, producing a new cigar out of his pocket. His last one had fallen off the log into a muddy puddle, and he wasn’t too attached to go panning for it.
“I’m looking for anybody, actually.” Hosea spun around, looking at each of the tents. Every single one was empty.
“I sent them all out. On errands, and whatnot,” Dutch rubbed his temples. “Arthur and Charles are out hunting, the ladies and Jack are all in town, Bill and the boys are scouting a stagecoach, etcetera etcetera. I'm sure you saw Mr. Bell up front." Dutch waved his hand dismissively.
“Unfortunately, I did. What, so it’s just the two of us?”
“Yup. Been waiting for you to get back, you know. You left before anyone even woke up.” Dutch shot him a wayward glare, and Hosea ignored it.
“Couldn’t sleep last night. Figured I’d go do something instead of staring into nothing,” Hosea fully turned his attention to Dutch. “You're not really upset, are you?”
“‘Course I’m not. Just ‘cause I think what you did was reckless, ridiculous, and quite frankly stupid, I can’t stay mad at you.” Dutch dropped back down onto his log, looking at the fire. Hosea slid in next to him, resting his body against Dutch’s. He dropped his head onto Dutch’s shoulder, brushing his nose against his wayward black curls.
“Well…it’s just, you know how restless I get. I’ll go mad if you keep me locked up in here, you’ve seen it happen before. I need to get out there and hunt, it’s all I’m good at.”
“I get that, really I do, but can’t you at least bring someone with you? Arthur, or-or Lenny or someone? Hell, or me? I know you're good at it, you're the best damn hunter I ever did see, but…”
“But I’m old, and pathetic now?” Hosea snickered, injecting himself into Dutch’s sentence.
“No! Of course not! …Old, yes. Pathetic, no. I just don't want you to get hurt, Hosea. These damn animals aren’t getting any less violent, especially when you're trying to kill them.”
“It’s only a deer, dear,” Hosea snickered again, inhaling sharply through his nose. He took a moment before speaking again. “I can’t burden Arthur or Lenny or Charles or anyone whenever I wanna go out and hunt something. They’re busy men, Dutch. Busy young men making money, the kind that we so desperately need. And you…you can’t hunt, Dutch, you never could. Lord knows I love you, but I’d bring back more if I brought young Jack with me.”
“Now, that’s just not fair, ‘Sea,” Dutch pouted, wrapping a hand across Hosea’s waist and squeezing. “Maybe you were never a good teacher. Ever think of that?”
Hosea barked a laugh, a force so strong and sudden that he bucked forward. “Bad teacher? I taught Arthur everything he knows about hunting, and now you rely entirely on him. I’m a great teacher.”
“How come I can’t hunt then? Hm?” Dutch was grinning too now, nosing Hosea’s thin hair with the points of his face.
“Because you never paid attention. Always trying to distract me with those wandering hands of yours, never on the gun but always on me.” Hosea turned his head to face Dutch, his eyes hooding.
“Oh, like you didn’t enjoy our little distractions. In fact, I remember you enjoying them quite a lot.” Dutch turned his body sideways, swinging a leg over the log and straddling it. His knees cornered Hosea, trapping him between them.
“Not as much as you did.” Hosea teased, dragging a finger along Dutch’s chest. His fingers danced along the golden chains enlightening his vest, twirling the decorative metal around his fingers,
“Oh, really?” Dutch hooked his hands under Hosea’s legs, pulling him forward until he was sat neatly in his lap. Hosea snickered again, keeping his hands firmly glued to Dutch’s torso. “Well, Mr. High and Mighty, why don’t we see who enjoys them more right now?”
A thrill ran up Hosea’s spine as the words met his ears. His eyes were locked on Dutch’s, trying to see whether or not he was being serious.
“You mean…?” Hosea gasped as Dutch gripped his hips firmly, digging his nails into the rough linen of his pants.
“I think you know exactly what I mean, Mr. Matthews.” Dutch’s voice swooped low, and gravelly, and it made Hosea’s blood sing.
“I’m not entirely certain I do.” Hosea pushed again, his voice breathless.
“What, you want to hear me say it?” Dutch stroked a hand up and down Hosea’s thigh, watching as his legs trembled with what he assumed was excitement. “I want to take you apart, Hosea. I want to get those clothes off and act like it's 1872 again. I want there to be no space between us, just like how it used to be.”
A garbled squeak died in Hosea’s throat as his eyes widened and his chest tightened. He couldn’t stop staring at Dutch’s sharp, toothy grin and replaying those sweet words in his head over and over again. It was only a matter of moments before he found himself hot under the collar, quickly growing hard as Dutch’s wandering hands crawled across the spread of his body. He coughed once to clear his throat before standing up on shaky legs, looking expectantly down at Dutch.
“Well then, Mr. Van Der Linde, what are you waiting for?”
“Good question.” Dutch stood up, and without a word he scooped Hosea up into his arms. Hosea squawked, resisting for a moment or two before realizing it was futile and giving up completely. Dutch carried him like a newlywed over to his tent and quickly dropped him down onto the bed. He wasted no time crawling over him, crowding in his space and mouthing at his pale neck.
Hosea gasped out small moans as Dutch started using his teeth, biting at the flushed skin and suckling the small wounds immediately after. He felt his hands fly up to Dutch’s strong shoulders, grabbing at them tightly whilst pulling the man on top of him further downward.
“Oh, Dutch…” Hosea tipped his head back and groaned, spreading his legs and rolling his hips up. Laying flat on his back it was easy to bring his knees up to both sides of Dutch’s body, hugging the younger man’s hips with them.
Dutch only laughed in response. Once Hosea’s neck was sufficiently covered in bites and purple bruises, he moved his attention down to the rest of Hosea’s torso. He wasted zero time undoing his vest, and then the buttons of his shirt. He pulled them apart with force, greedily hunting for the sight of Hosea’s bare body. He undid the buttons of Hosea’s pants, pulling both them and his drawers off in quick succession. He tossed them both off the bed, somewhere loose in a dark corner of the tent. Hosea blushed pink, being almost entirely exposed whilst Dutch remained fully clothed. It sent a thrill up his spine, turning him on even more.
Hosea sat up just enough to slip his arms out of his sleeves, pulling his shirt off and throwing it aside. He bit his bottom lip and rolled his hips up, rubbing up against Dutch’s and trying desperately to relieve the heavy pressure forming in his gut. He looked past Dutch, at the wide open flaps of the tent and suddenly felt a cold sweat form on his skin.
"What's wrong?" Dutch sensed the change in Hosea’s mood, watching his eyes flicker back and forth. He smoothed a hand down Hosea’s side, his rough hands snatching the taller man's breath away.
"It's just…what if someone comes back? There's no playing off what we're doing here. Especially not if the doors are open."
"Oh, now you're bashful?" Dutch snickered in Hosea’s ear, looking up and down the body underneath him. "Got nothin' to be ashamed of, Old Girl."
"Not that nickname again…" Hosea groaned, rolling his eyes. "I'm not being bashful, I just don't want one of the ladies or..or Arthur or someone to see me like this. Close the tent flaps, will you?” He batted his eyelashes a few times as if to coax Dutch into it.
“Nobody’s gonna come back, ‘Sea.” Dutch ducked his head down again, ignoring his lover's request. He started to kiss all over his chest in erratic patterns, placing his lips wherever he felt like for as long as he felt like.
“You don't know that for sure,” Hosea chewed on his bottom lip, looking around as far as the parameters of the tent allowed. His eyes scanned the tree lines, and he couldn’t stop envisioning the big supply wagon rolling in with everyone on it. “Please, Dutch?”
Dutch didn’t answer right away. He kept embracing the skin, rubbing his thumb in circles over Hosea’s left nipple while he nipped at the right one. Hosea whined at the touch, his sensitive skin sending bolts of electricity up and down his body. There were moments when he cursed how sensitive his skin was, but this was far from one of those times. He just hoped Dutch wouldn’t tease him with it that much.
“Isn’t that part of the fun, though?” Dutch suddenly looked up, resting his chin on Hosea’s rib cage.
“Huh?” Hosea looked down at him, peering at him over his nose.
“The thrill of just maybe getting caught by someone. Isn’t that part of the fun?”
“M-Maybe for you, but not for me!” Hosea felt his cheeks turn redder.
“Come on, think about it! Which were you more excited for back then? Doing it in a house, completely secure, or doing it just a mile off some trail in the woods? Rolling around in the bushes, anybody and their mother could’ve walked by and you never complained once.” Dutch started moving his hand again, tracing random patterns atop Hosea’s skin.
“In the woods we had cover. There were trees and bushes and logs we could hide behind if we really needed to, but it’s not like that here! Dutch, please, just close the tent.”
With a heavy, over dramatic sigh, Dutch stood up. He crawled off Hosea and moved towards the open flaps, grasping them both with his strong hands. He pulled them together and secured them with their straps, turning his back to them once the deed was done.
“Happy now?” Dutch moved back to the bed, but didn’t get on right away. He moved his hands to the buttons of his shirt like he was going to take it off, but after a moment of hesitation, he opted to simply roll his sleeves up.
“Yes, very,” Hosea grinned as Dutch crawled back on top of him, making eye contact the entire time. “Thank you, Dutch.”
“You’re welcome. Now, come here.” Dutch pressed their lips together, swooping down quickly. If his mannerisms were any hint, he was more than eager to get back to the work in front of him. Hosea moaned into the kiss, parting his lips and letting Dutch’s tongue in. The younger man deepened the kiss without hesitation, thoroughly enjoying the muffled noises slipping out from his lover's throat. Once they broke apart for air, Dutch moved his hands to his vest and quickly unbuttoned it. He threw it off, then quickly followed suit with his shirt and his belt.
“For a minute I thought you weren’t gonna.” Hosea mumbled, watching Dutch undress.
“I wasn’t. Not yet, anyway. But these clothes are getting too suffocating.”
"No union suit, hm? Did you plan this?" Seeing Dutch’s bare chest suddenly clicked the pieces together in his brain. The younger man never went without the article of clothing, almost always complaining about how cold he was without it.
"I did say I was waiting for you, didn't I?"
"You did," Hosea shifted, laying back down flat as Dutch bent over him again. "How long have you been thinking about this then, hm?" His hands danced up Dutch’s back, deft fingers running over the bumps of his spine until they met with his long black hair. The pomade kept it firmly in place, but he'd be damned if he didn't admit that messing it up was his favourite part. If he was lucky, he'd get to watch Dutch roll off him and fix it up in the mirror once this was over.
"With how much you've been teasing me lately? Every damn day," Dutch groaned in Hosea’s ear, his hot breath puffing out against sensitive skin. He pressed his knee up between Hosea’s legs, to which the older man responded by gasping silently and biting his lip. He grinded down on it lightly, revelling in the rough linen of Dutch’s pants scraping at his skin. "Touching me when nobody’s looking. Dropping things just so you can bend over in front of me. Wearing that damn vest that's so tight it hardly fits you anymore. God, Hosea."
"I didn't think you noticed any of that…" Hosea whispered, his voice craning out into a whine by the end of the sentence. Dutch was swarming him now, diving right back into biting his neck. He was growing restless though, and his hands had started groping and squeezing every bit of flesh they could reach. Hosea was sure he'd be covered in bruises by the end of it, Dutch’s blunt fingertips digging into him oh so deep. Not that he could complain, of course. Every time he looked into the mirror and saw bumps and bruises from these little encounters, his blood rushed.
"I know you well enough to see when you're trying to rile me up, old girl. You've always loved putting on a show." Dutch finally found a place his hand was comfortable enough to rest against, snugly gripping one side of Hosea's waist. His other hand was dancing along his lover's skin, dragging a finger down his belly until it got to the patch of hair above his crotch. Hosea’s body trembled under the light touches, his sensitive skin making him jump and twitch whenever Dutch hit a patch of nerves.
Once Hosea started to unravel, Dutch started to tease his fingers along the length of his cock. He started at the base, gently stroking it before slinking up to the tip and brushing his thumb over the slit. He gripped it loosely, gently pumping his fist up and down until Hosea was sighing beneath him.
"More…" Hosea mumbled, bucking his hips up and thrusting into Dutch’s hand. Dutch squeezed him harder, though just the slightest bit. He wanted Hosea to feel it, but he also wanted him to know that it wasn't coming easy. He'd have to work for his pleasure. Hosea whined, clawing at Dutch’s back.
"Play nice, Hosea." Dutch winced at the nails in his back, no doubt leaving red marks in their wake.
"I thought you wanted to fuck me, so get on with it!" Hosea groaned, bucking his hips again. He'd fallen into a steady enough rhythm, jerking upwards in tune with Dutch’s strokes, but it wasn't nearly enough for him to finish. It was just enough for him to feel the familiar churn of electricity bubbling in his stomach, aching to release.
"Now now, is that any way to talk to your leader?" Dutch grinned, enjoying the resulting groan of disappointment slip from Hosea’s lips.
"You always wait for the worst times to torment me…"
"Seems to me like you’ve been asking for it." Dutch grinned. He could feel his own erection straining uncomfortably against his pants, and a bead of hot sweat slip down his neck. As much as he was enjoying tormenting Hosea, he was beginning to feel too hot under the collar. If he didn't get to chase his own release soon, he'd snap. And, as much as he hated to admit it, Hosea did have a point. He had no idea when anyone would be coming back from their various excursions, but the last thing he wanted was to get interrupted. With that realization fresh in his mind, he propped himself back up on his knees. Over on his bedside table was a tube of gun oil, half empty. He’d made up some half-assed excuse as to why it was by his bed when a few camp members had pointed it out, but nobody believed it. He grabbed it, opening it and dumping some into his right hand. Hosea instinctively spread his legs, giving Dutch the access he so desperately craved.
“Please…” Hosea whispered, so quietly that Dutch wasn’t even sure he’d heard him correctly. He couldn’t hide the toothy grin that clawed its way up onto his lips, contorting his moustache.
“Patience, old friend.” Dutch circled Hosea’s entrance with one finger, taking care to spread the lubricant around. Hosea bit his lip, pushing his head deeper into the pillow and moaning from the anticipation alone. When Dutch finally slipped in he gasped, instantly rocking his hips down to meet Dutch’s knuckles. It was practically all instinct at this point, just another part of the dance they’d been doing for twenty-something years. Dutch laughed, loud and hearty.
“God, so needy.” He teased, rocking his finger in and out a few times. He knew the older man could take more, much more, but he couldn’t help but keep toying with him. It was just too much fun.
“You're such a dick.” Hosea groaned, silently debating whether or not to shove Dutch out of the way and start pleasuring himself. He liked how Dutch’s fingers felt more than his own, since they were thicker and his nails weren’t as long. His fingers were longer, but they were relatively bony. They didn’t fill him half as much as the younger man’s did. He didn’t have much time to decide, however, before Dutch added a second finger, sliding in and out from the tip to the knuckle. Hosea arched his back off the bed, resisting the urge to cry out from such little stimulation. He didn’t want to give Dutch the satisfaction that he could work him up so easily.
“You love me though, don't you?” Dutch cooed, starting the routine of curling his fingers upwards against his prostate as well as fingering him. Hosea whined at the new yet familiar sensation, sweating as his skin flushed. Since he was so pale, whenever he blushed it wasn’t just his cheeks that turned red. His chest and even his shoulders turned pink, and it was a sight Dutch could drink up for days.
“Ohh, right now you're pushing it.” Hosea winced at the stretch as Dutch added a third finger. A quick way to force his lover to get to the point was to rile him up, and Hosea knew exactly what he was doing. He knew just which buttons to push to speed things up, and he intended to force down on every single one.
“Do you think that pointed tongue of yours will get you what you want?” Dutch could only glare at him, momentarily stopping all movement as annoyance dripped from his words.
“It…It usually does. M-Master conman, remember?” Hosea struggled out as Dutch suddenly resumed pace and sped up. Unfortunately for him, Dutch also knew exactly what to do to rile him up as well. Rapid changes in pace were a quick way to render him useless, turning him into a moaning puddle of overstimulated nerves. He couldn’t contain the desperate noises that slipped out of him as Dutch began to scissor his fingers, making quick work of stretching him out.
Dutch seemed to take pity on him, however, as he got back up on his knees after a minute or two. He pulled his hand out of Hosea, ignoring the whine of protest, and picked up the thin cylinder of the fragrant oil. Into his right hand he squirted more of the slick substance, and with his left hand he pulled the zipper of his fly down, shoving the fabric of his pants and drawers down enough to bring himself out. He got off the bed for just a moment to rid himself of the garments entirely, tossing them alongside Hosea’s discarded outfit. Hosea stared, wide eyed, with his lips parted and mouth drying. He always wore the same expression every time he saw Dutch getting himself ready, but it never wore off.
Dutch started to stroke himself, finally. He groaned loudly, tipping his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. The gun oil slicked him up quickly, though it didn’t have much work to do. His cock was already weeping, begging for attention almost as much as Hosea had been.
“Come on, old girl. You know how I want you.” Dutch half-whispered, half-grunted as he continued to stroke his hand up and down. Hosea whined under his breath, spreading his legs as wide as he could. Normally, he’d put up more of a fight before being so submissive, but he was getting needy. “Ready?” Dutch grinned, looking down at Hosea through hooded eyelids. He put both of his hands on each of Hosea’s hips, rubbing deep circles into them.
“I was ready ten minutes ago.” Hosea grumbled, taking a second to brush some hair out from in front of his eyes. It was getting long, just enough to tuck behind his ears. Dutch had been trying to convince him to let it grow out for years, swearing on his very life that it would be a good look on him, but he’d never listened.
“Keep that attitude up and see where it gets you, Hosea,” Dutch scowled, though it turned into a grin as he thought up a little mischievous plan on the spot. He waited for Hosea to open his mouth to respond to slide into him, quickly slamming himself into the hilt. Instead of whatever comeback his lover had thought of, a loud wanton moan slipped from his lips. It was so loud he surprised even himself, his eyes going wide as saucers with a gasp to follow. “Hm? What was that?” Dutch teased him again, sliding out to the tip before slamming himself back in. Hosea only cried out again with nothing but ecstasy dripping from his voice. His hands flew to Dutch’s back, clawing at his shoulders and any flesh he could reach. Dutch lurched forward in response, planting his hands on both sides of Hosea’s head, sinking into the plush coverings on the cot. He laughed, deep and low.
It didn’t take long for Dutch to build up a hammering pace, one that had the cot creaking and slamming against the shelves behind it. It had been weeks, months, since they’d had the time or the safety for an intimate moment, and they couldn’t contain their eagerness. Hosea released his hand from the blade of Dutch’s shoulder to clamp it over his mouth instead, muffling the moans and gasps. He was painfully aware of how loud he was being, and experience told him he needed to quiet down. Dutch saw, and almost immediately clasped his own hand over his lovers and pulled it downwards away from his face.
“Don’t. I want to hear you.”
“B-But..” Hosea started but struggled to finish. Dutch’s slamming pace had clearly done a number on Hosea’s ability to speak. He just whined, having the words in his head but unable to get them out. Dutch could only laugh; he loved reducing his partner to a mewling mess. Regularly he was the smartest man in the room, but right now? He was nothing but need, clinging onto Dutch for dear life and moaning louder than a whore. His cunning wit reduced to nothing but a puddle of sex-addled soup.
“There’s nobody around, remember?” Dutch grinned wolfishly, beyond pleased that his little plan was working out.
“Mm..Micah…” Hosea threw his head back, his usually neat hair now spiking up in all directions.
Dutch leaned forward, kissing the shell of Hosea’s ear. “He doesn’t matter,” He whispered, enjoying the resulting shiver that jolted through his lover. “He won’t say anything. And if he does, who’s gonna believe him?”
Hosea just nodded in response. Truth be told, the last thing he wanted to think about while getting it on with his lover was Micah. His feelings towards the man were no secret, and he didn’t bother to hide how much he hated him. In fact, nobody did.
For the next short while, Dutch focused all of his energy into his hips. There were no words to be said anyway, the only sounds leaving his lips being animalistic grunts and breathy sighs. He was trying to drag it all out, to make it last as long as possible, but he could tell he couldn’t hold on much longer. Neither could Hosea, if the way he was tightening around Dutch’s cock was any indication. He was almost disappointed, not knowing when they’d be able to do this again, but the reedy moans singing in his ears were enough to distract him from that. Right now, all he wanted to do was please his partner. Planning their next 'meeting' could wait.
“Dutch!” Hosea whined out, much higher than the other moans slipping unbidden from his lips. They were swollen and puffy from how hard he’d been biting them, and Dutch couldn’t resist the urge to kiss them. He swooped down, sealing their mouths together with a deep embrace. Hosea gladly accepted it, letting Dutch do whatever he wanted to. He was too far gone to care, anyway. When Dutch broke the kiss, he didn’t go far. He let his face hover right above Hosea’s, lips just barely touching in the chastest of touches, their hot breaths puffing out together into one mingled cloud of steam.
“Oh god…oh god!” Hosea wrenched his head to the side, squishing his face into the pillow beneath his head.
“You close, old girl?” Dutch grinned, dragging his eyes up and down. Hosea nodded frantically, his hair flopping right in front of his eyes. Whatever product he used to keep it out of his face had finally broken down, giving up entirely. Dutch hadn't even noticed that his own hair had done the same, breaking free of the thick pomade and flopping ungraciously in front of his face. He could see his curls in the corner of his eyes, and if he could find it in himself to care, he'd brush them away.
"Come for me. Come on, Hosea, don't hold back. I want to see you. I want you to come for me." Dutch moved his hand, dragging it down to grip Hosea’s cock. He started to jerk his hand loosely up and down, just like he'd done before. He watched Hosea’s eyes roll back into his head, watched as his mouth wrenched open in a pouty 'o', watched as he tipped his head so far back his whole body had to curve to support the position. Watched as he suddenly twitched and tensed up, ropes of thick white spend suddenly spurting across his hand and painting his torso. The sound he made was heavenly, loud and desperate and full of adoration. It was the loudest, most unashamed cry of release Dutch had ever heard, not just from Hosea but from any of his romantic partners. Once it was over, Hosea slumped into the mattress, boneless, and whimpered uselessly as Dutch continued to hammer in and out of his abused hole.
The sight in front of him was too much to handle. Dutch felt his eyes flutter shut and a loud groan slip out from his lips as he shot his own load deep inside Hosea, his whole body freezing up as the sensation rocked him like a bolt of lightning. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d finished so hard, so frantically. He quickly found himself panting, slumped over Hosea, his arms shaking with the effort to hold his body up. Eventually, his elbows buckled, and he fell into his lover’s waiting embrace. After getting the wind back into his lungs, his breathing turned heavy - his chest rising and falling dramatically each second. He felt two hands dancing along his back, weakly massaging and tracing over the skin. He laughed, quietly and softly. The two stayed that way for a minute or two, or five or ten.
"God damn…" Hosea mumbled, though his voice had a new hoarseness to it.
"God damn indeed." Dutch huffed. He groaned as he got back up, putting his weight back into the palms of his hands and his knees as he looked down at Hosea.
"I forgot…h-how good you are at that." Hosea ran a hand through his hair, brushing the sweaty locks out of his face.
"Well, you know what that means," Dutch got fully back up on his knees, groaning softly with the effort. He wobbled for a moment before finding his balance, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. He pulled his softening cock out, ignoring Hosea’s whine of protest. "We're gonna have to do this more often."
"Much more often." Hosea added, shifting his hips uncomfortably. The feeling of Dutch’s thick spend dripping down his thighs was never a pleasant sensation. Dutch could only laugh, loud and hearty. He rolled off Hosea, and placed a quick kiss to his forehead. He turned to his desk, grabbing a rag and a small bucket of what Hosea assumed was water. When Dutch turned back around, Hosea flashed him a knowing grin.
"What? I did tell you I planned this," Dutch grinned back, sitting next to Hosea on the bed. He cupped a hand over his cheek, gently stroking his thumb over the flushed skin. His other hand got to work running the damp rag over Hosea’s sensitive skin, making short work of the sticky substance. "Knew I'd need something to clean you up."
"We always seem to make quite the mess, don't we?" Hosea giggled as the rag tickled the sensitive skin on his stomach. Dutch smiled wide, leaning forward to meet his lips again. Hosea gladly accepted, kissing back tenderly and lovingly.
"That's part of the fun though, isn't it?"
–
Hours later, the last of the gang finally rolled in. Dutch and Hosea had thus since separated, but they didn’t go far. Dutch sat outside his tent, Hosea at the table just a few meters away. Every now and then they’d look up, catch each other’s glance with a grin, and then go back to what they were doing. Dutch was simply staring, looking into the woods. He watched the trees sway in the gentle summer breeze, the animals foraging and skittering about, the leaves fall softly off their branches. He felt happy, warm and content. Each breath he took was full of love and appreciation. Hosea was reading a book, although he hadn’t turned the page in quite some time. He was lost in his own thoughts, completely and utterly on another planet. Dutch didn’t know what he was thinking, there was no way to tell, but he could ask him about it later. He’d slip in the empty space next to him by a roaring campfire, throw a hand around his shoulders, and they’d talk about nothing all night long. Then, he
d take him back to his tent, and they'd curl up together like cats lazing in the sun.
For the first time in a long time, all was well. There were no problems, and there was no fear.
The next few days, however, Hosea noticed that Micah rarely took his eyes off the ground. Much to everyone’s relief, he spoke less too. Hosea could only smile as he watched from afar.