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The crunch of tires on dirt alerted Boyd to the approaching car. He heard it before he saw it, his eyes closed and his head tilted back as he breathed in the early afternoon air. He was sitting on the porch, his arms draped across the back of the bench and his legs spread wide. He closed his eyes again, sitting still as the car door closed, cowboy boots tapping up the rickety wooden steps.
“Boyd,” was all Raylan said in the form of a greeting, and Boyd hummed in response.
“Raylan.”
“Where’s Ava?” Raylan asked, and Boyd rubbed his eyes before finally taking in the marshal standing before him.
“She’s gone. Took off. If you’re looking for her, I can’t tell you when she’ll be back. If she’ll be back. Though, giving pause to that thought, it’s not exactly her you’re looking for, is it?”
“No, it’s not,” Raylan said, adjusting hat and sliding down onto the bench beside him. Boyd didn’t move at first, not wanting to give Raylan the room, but finally he dropped his hands into his lap, folding one leg over the other, pretending like this was any other kind of social call.
“I need to talk to you. There’s a missing -”
“A missing what, Raylan? Person? Car? Drugs? Whatever it is you’re here to accuse me of taking, I most certainly did not take.”
“Alright.”
Boyd scoffed, finally staring into Raylan’s face. He had a hint of stubble around his mouth and lips, which were curved into a smile, his eyebrows raised up into that stupid white hat of his. Boyd grabbed for the glass sitting on the table beside him, taking a long sip, the alcohol burning his mouth and throat as he swallowed loudly, licking his lips when he was done.
“What are you drinking?” Raylan asked, though he didn’t wait for an answer, taking the glass from Boyd and tipping the rest of the drink back as Boyd let out a humorless laugh.
“Whiskey. Want some? No, please, help yourself. You know, Raylan, this dance of ours is getting a little tiring. You come to a man’s home -” that earned a scoff from Raylan “- you accuse him of God knows what, and you drink his liquor, all uninvited, might I add. What’s next, Raylan? You want to fuck me, too?”
Raylan stared into the empty glass in his hands, pulling off his hat and sucking his teeth for a minute before answering. “You wouldn’t be able to handle it if I did.”
Boyd could have sworn he heard wrong. His ears were ringing, the words enough to make his stomach tighten, and he wasn’t sure who learned towards the other first; he just knew his face was inches away from Raylan’s. “Well now, that sounds exactly like a challenge, Mr. Givens.”
“Not a challenge, just a fact,” Raylan said, reaching around Boyd to set the empty glass down, and Boyd breathed in sharply through his nose.
“My, you must have quite the big dick in those fancy slacks of yours,” Boyd retorted, and Raylan was slow to move his body back from where it hovered over Boyd. He pulled his arm back from the table, though Boyd grabbed it, holding Raylan still, the both of them invading each other’s personal space.
“I’m serious, Raylan. You wanna take it out for me? It must be mighty heavy to hold. You could bend me over the porch railing there, if you like. How long can you last for? How long until I’m screaming your name?”
“Why don’t you ask Ava that when she comes back?”
“She’s not coming back,” Boyd snarled, “so I guess you’ll have to make me find out yourself.”
“I guess so,” was all Raylan could think to say, and it’s not quite clear who started kissing who first. It was sloppy and wet, both of them wanting for more but none of it being enough, neither ready to relinquish control.
But it was Boyd who started to pull back first, and Raylan smirked in victory, cupping Boyd’s neck to hold him there as he deepened the kiss. When they finally broke apart, they were both panting. Boyd’s lips and cheeks were red, his eyes wide as they both tried to assess what the fuck had exactly just happened.
“Come inside, Raylan,” Boyd said. “And tell me exactly how you’d like me.”
“Boyd,” Raylan called after him, hesitating before following him inside through the screen doors.
“The couch is comfortable, it’d probably be better if you want to fuck me sloppy and raw. Or we could go upstairs to the bed. It’s more spacious, though I’m sure you already know that. There’s condoms and lube up there as well. Dealer’s choice.”
It was all Raylan could do as he tried to get a word in edge-wise, Boyd shedding his shirt and his boots in the foyer. “You need to pick one now, Raylan.”
“On the couch,” Raylan said, pointing. “Go sit.”
“Yes, sir,” Boyd echoed, his voice smug and his smile lopsided, and Raylan knew he must be losing his mind. He was also losing his shirt and boots, his own pants already feeling a bit too tight as he watched Boyd’s pool down around his ankles, underwear included.
He sat on the couch stroking himself, and Raylan had to quickly wipe away the drool that was starting to form on his mouth. Boyd smiled, his hand pulling away from his cock, spreading himself like he had been on the bench when Raylan arrived.
“How do you want me?” Boyd asked, and Raylan vaguely gestured towards him.
“Like that is good. Hand me one of those pillows, will you?” Raylan took the couch pillow from Boyd, dropping it down by his feet and looking Boyd over, slowly, taking him in, considering. He learned forward, kissing Boyd again, though it was slower this time, exploring.
Boyd welcomed his tongue with ease, his breath hitching as Raylan’s hand slid between them, closing around Boyd’s cock, jerking him with languid strokes that made Boyd whimper softly. Raylan broke the kiss, though his hand stayed right where it was, twisting his wrist as he jerked Boyd faster, and faster still.
“This hardly seems fair,” Boyd commented, his hips leaving the couch to follow Raylan’s hand, his breath coming in little pants between words. “I thought you were going to fuck me.”
“I am going to fuck you,” Raylan replied, and Boyd heard it for what it was: a warning. A promise.
Raylan knelt between Boyd’s legs then, his hand slowing as his tongue curled around the tip of Boyd’s cock. Boyd tipped his head back, closing his eyes as Raylan went to work like sucking Boyd’s dick was a full-time job. He was slow at first, methodical, his hand and mouth working in sync as he sucked Boyd down.
And all Boyd knew was heat: the heat of Raylan’s mouth; the heating pooling in his stomach; the heat behind his eyes as he kept them squeezed closed, not wanting to watch, but wanting to savor.
Raylan pulled back, his mouth leaving Boyd with a wet pop that made Boyd cry out, his hips thrusting up to find the missing wetness of Raylan’s mouth. He could hear the smile in the way Raylan laughed, his fingers pressing into Boyd’s hips, pressing him down. Pinning Boyd to the couch, he went back to work, his mouth and tongue working Boyd before sucking him all the way down. Boyd couldn’t help the startled cry that left his mouth, his eyes flying open as his fingers curled into Raylan’s hair.
And Raylan, for his part, was loving this. Boyd’s cries edged him on, his nose and mouth filled with nothing but the scent and taste of Boyd. The scent of his sweat, the taste of his wetness. Raylan came up for air one final time, going back down on Boyd and releasing his hips, letting him thrust up into Raylan’s mouth, and Raylan moaned around him.
He bobbed his head once, twice, and Boyd had barely given out a warning shout before he was spilling himself inside Raylan’s mouth. Raylan swallowed Boyd’s cum as expertly as he had swallowed his cock, Boyd running his hands through Raylan’s hair in an attempt to calm himself down.
Raylan was swift in pulling himself up, leaning over Boyd and kissing him, Boyd tasting himself in Raylan’s mouth and he knew, when the time came, when Raylan was on top of him, inside him, he wouldn’t be able to last. He wouldn’t be able to handle Raylan Givens.
The thought made Boyd pull away and laugh, and Raylan raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Boyd licked his lips, meeting Raylan’s eyes, and Raylan could see it: Boyd wouldn’t give in easily. He wouldn’t go down without a fight. And if Boyd couldn’t handle Raylan, well, Raylan knew a challenge when he saw one. He wasn’t going to be able to easily handle Boyd Crowder either.
“I’ll get some towels,” Raylan said, when both their breathing returned to normal, when Boyd wasn’t still glistening on Raylan’s lips. Not like he needed directions to the bathroom, anyway.
“And the whiskey?” Boyd called after Raylan’s retreating figure, and Raylan laughed in response.
“And the whiskey,” he called back. Lord knows they were going to need it.