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"No one's ever ate your ass before?" Tim asked incredulously.
"No?" Raylan answered, baffled. At Tim's continued offended look, he felt compelled to explain, "Women don't tend to offer, and my encounters with men so far have usually been fairly. . . rushed."
"Well, that's a fucking shame. I've wanted to get my mouth in there since the day we met." Tim said it casually, like it wasn't the hottest thing Raylan had ever heard.
"We been—fuckin'—" he almost slipped and said "dating," "—for like three months now. Why haven't you said anything 'til now?"
Tim shrugged. "You always seemed to have something else in mind, and it was always a good idea."
Raylan considered this. "Tim," he said, "is it possible we should talk more?"
"We talk all the time, man," Tim protested.
"Sure," Raylan agreed, "but, like, about us?"
Tim made a horrified face. "That is not the lesson we should be learning here."
"Oh, what is the lesson, then?" Raylan asked snarkily.
"Turn over," Tim answered, "and let me eat you out."
"I don't think that qualifies as a lesson," Raylan protested, even as he did what Tim asked. "More of an assignment, really."
Raylan couldn't see Tim's probably-irritated face, but he could imagine it real well. He grinned into the pillow where it could do no damage.
His comment got him what he wanted, though, which was a sharp swat to his backside.
"The lesson is 'do as I say or you don't get to come,'" Tim chided.
Raylan found himself nodding. "Yes, sir, Mr. Gutterson," he moaned, both from the spark of pain from the spank and from the idea of what Tim had said.
"That's better," Tim drawled, then hauled Raylan's ass up so he was on his knees. Probably so he wouldn't have to bend over so far to reach it. Tim was young, but not that young. He left Raylan's front half as it was, smushed down into the bedding.
When Tim gently spread apart his cheeks, Raylan realized the other reason for his position: he couldn't grind down against the mattress. He whined petulantly at the thought.
"I gotcha," Tim cooed, then leaned in closer to blow a hot breath across his asshole.
Raylan shuddered.
The first touch of Tim's tongue inexplicably felt cold, until his brain was able to sort through the sensations and correctly label it as "wet." Wet and warm and so good. Tim didn't go straight for the asshole, but rather licked at the soft skin around it, circling and surrounding it with careful swipes. It left Raylan clenching and relaxing in anticipation.
Tim inched further down to the sensitive skin of his perineum, until he had Raylan's balls in his mouth. Just a touch of teeth against them.
Raylan panted. "Please," he said, voice wrenched out of him.
He could feel Tim's answering hum in his bones.
After mouthing his way back up, Tim finally put his tongue where Raylan needed it. A broad, flat stroke of his tongue had Raylan shivering and gasping.
Raylan melted into it as Tim kept up his ministrations. He couldn't tell where one moan ended and the next one started, and it was only his inability to hold himself up on his elbows that left them all muffled in the pillows.
It could have been minutes or hours before he felt Tim's tongue slip inside him. He wasn't really processing anything but the feeling of Tim's mouth against him and the obscene sounds of lips and tongue and the very occasional scraping of teeth.
The hot intrusion felt more than welcome, like it was always meant to be there. It writhed inside him, coating his inner walls with saliva.
Tim drew his tongue back out, then in again, fucking him with his talented mouth.
Raylan groaned and pushed himself further into Tim's face.
In response, Tim dug his fingers into the meat of his ass, fingernails pressing insistently against his skin. Raylan got the message.
It felt so damn good that he wasn't even thinking about getting off. That is, until Tim moved one of his hands and added a finger in alongside his tongue.
Raylan shouted in surprise and sudden awareness of his arousal.
He could feel Tim grinning against his ass. After another moment, Tim pulled away nearly entirely, leaving only his finger inside.
"Can I fuck you?" he asked, breathless.
Nodding against the pillow, Raylan whined. "Tim," he said, struggling to lift himself up onto his elbows. "Please."
"Okay," Tim said, though it sounded more like he was talking to himself than to Raylan. "Condom?" he asked.
Raylan shook his head violently. "Want to feel you," he croaked. "Want you to fill me up."
"Shit," Tim swore, and he rested his head on Raylan's back. "You're gonna get me killed, Givens," he murmured into Raylan's skin.
After a long moment, he raised his head back up. "Okay, I do need lube, though."
"Okay?" Raylan asked, not sure why Tim was speaking instead of acting.
Tim huffed out a breath. "Can you reach the drawer?"
Raylan gave it the bare minimum of effort, extending the closest arm so his fingertips brushed the nightstand. "No," he said, then rolled his eyes. "Get your hand out my ass and get it yourself."
"Brat," Tim muttered, but he did as directed. As much as he liked to take charge, he was also easily led. It was convenient for the times Raylan himself wanted to take the reins. And also the times, like now, when he just wanted Tim to do all the work.
Soon enough, Tim returned and was inserting a freshly lubed finger back in his ass. This time the sensation really was cold, and Raylan hissed his displeasure.
"Don't be a baby," Tim drawled, "or I'll get to thinking you can't handle my dick."
"Cold and full are different feelings," Raylan grunted.
Tim laughed. "You're so weird," he said, fondness creeping into his voice, and then he abruptly added a second finger.
Raylan groaned and bucked his hips, trying to get a little relief. "Tim," he whined.
"You gotta be good," Tim reminded him, "or else I'm getting off without you."
Raylan stilled himself with considerable effort. "I'm good," he panted, "I'm good."
Tim rewarded him with a deliberate press against his prostate. Or, perhaps, tormented him, as it took a lot of work to keep himself in place.
"I'm ready, c'mon," Raylan gasped after a few minutes of fingering.
"No, you aren't," Tim chided, scissoring his fingers to remind Raylan he was only at two.
"Need your cock," Raylan groaned, and very carefully did not push himself further back on Tim's fingers. Tim ought to be proud of his restraint.
Tim hummed, then withdrew his fingers. "If you're sure," he said, skeptically.
Raylan whined at the loss and then nodded frantically. "Please, now," he begged.
Tim pushed in slow, and the world faded to gray.
Raylan gasped from the burn, and Tim hummed smugly. Tim liked inflicting pain nearly as much as Raylan liked receiving it, he'd realized, though he was yet to get him to admit it.
With another hum, Tim scratched down Raylan's sides, digging in with his blunt nails, deep enough to leave welts. It was a good distraction, and slowly the world came back into color, with just a few sparks of stars dotting his vision.
"Yeah," Raylan panted once Tim was all the way in.
Tim laughed. "You just cannot admit when you're wrong, can you?"
"Move, goddammit," Raylan demanded, despite the lingering stinging stretch around Tim's cock.
"Nah," Tim drawled. "I'mma give you a minute." If he wasn't imagining things, Raylan thought his voice sounded a little strained, so maybe it wasn't just him who needed some time. Not that he needed any time, of course.
Finally, finally, Tim started to move.
It still hurt, but it was the good-pain that had Raylan's cock recovering its interest in proceedings. "That's it," he groaned.
Tim was thrusting a little jerkily, stymied somewhat by the tightness of Raylan's ass.
"Relax, sweetheart," he said, exasperated.
"Yeah," Raylan agreed acidly, "that'll do it."
Actually, he was thinking a little less hard about Tim's thick cock and a little more about Tim's smug face, and nearly without noticing, the ride smoothed out. Good-pain turned to good-feeling, and he found himself rocking in rhythm with Tim's fucking.
"Good boy," Tim cooed, petting over the welts he'd left earlier.
Raylan hated when he did that, as he closed his eyes and whined at the flush of good-feeling that filled him at the words. He shivered all over and panted, and then Tim made things worse by hitting his prostate dead on.
His vision went out again, and it was good that he was already pressed into the mattress, because he would not have been able to hold himself up in the wake of this. He moaned in an effort to get the feelings out.
By the time his existence was steady again, and he could withstand Tim's expert and persistent aim, his cock was feeling overly neglected. It stood hard and proud, leaking insistently. Just waiting for some attention.
"Tim."
"Hmm?" Tim asked distractedly. If Raylan knew him at all, and he thought he did pretty well, he was probably watching his own cock going in and out of Raylan's asshole. He could get kind of hypnotized like that.
"Can I get some assistance over here?" Raylan asked petulantly.
Tim clicked his tongue. "Not yet, sweetheart," he said, sounding a lot more present. "I ain't done with you yet."
The promise in his voice made Raylan whine and writhe on his cock. He settled back into getting fucked, focusing on how good he felt and on the intoxicating muffled noises coming from Tim. Grunts and moans and sighs, cut off on one end or the other, typically.
Tim got louder the closer he got to coming, no longer having the presence of mind to quiet himself. "I'm gonna," he panted.
"Yeah, babe," Raylan panted right back. "Come on."
He could tell right away when Tim tipped over the edge, and not just from his hoarse shout and the way his thrusts became uncoordinated. Without a condom, Raylan could feel the hot, wet eruption of semen filling him up. He moaned involuntarily, then deliberately clenched down on Tim's cock as punishment for leaving his own neglected throughout this.
Tim choked out a gasp and stilled. "Fuck," he said, then, "Just be patient, jeez." He pulled out carefully and then, to Raylan's surprise, used a thumb to quickly scoop up the come that came drooling out after him. He pushed it back inside Raylan and left his thumb there to block any more from coming out.
"What are you doing?" Raylan asked, even as he shivered at the idea of getting to keep some of Tim inside himself.
"Oh, you'll like this," Tim promised, and for the second time tonight, Raylan felt the first touch of Tim's tongue to his ass. He licked up the trail of a drop that had leaked past his makeshift barrier, then carefully replaced his thumb with his tongue.
"Oh, god," Raylan moaned. He could feel the phantom taste of Tim's come on his own tongue as Tim licked wantonly inside him, scooping up semen all the while.
It was even better than the rim job earlier because the whole time, Raylan's brain was chanting, "His come; he's eating his own come," over and over. The vague sense of disgust he thought he ought to feel just made it hotter.
He was suddenly glad he hadn't come himself yet because he would surely have gotten too sensitive for this to last as long as Tim intended.
And last it did, until Raylan lost all track of time and thought and really anything but the desperate need to come. "Tim," he whined.
Finally, after the most thorough cleaning Raylan had ever received, Tim wrapped a hand around his cock.
"Fuck," Raylan gasped, closing his eyes against the sudden burst of relieved tears that sprang up.
"See, I gotcha," Tim cooed, stroking oh so slowly. "You been doing real well, sweetheart."
"Yeah?" Raylan found himself asking, voice thick as he tried not to sniffle. He wasn't crying; his eyes were just watering.
"So good," Tim confirmed, and he sped his hand up on Raylan's cock. "You gonna come for me, now?"
Raylan didn't really have a choice in the matter, at that, and he came so hard he might have stopped breathing just to focus on how good it felt.
"Raylan?"
He took a big, shuddering breath in. "I'm good, I'm good," he assured Tim, and he punctuated it by rolling out of his grasp so he could lie on his back on the dry half of the bed.
Tim looked good like this, after sex, his hair all messed up and floofy out of its gel. He reached up and ruffled it swiftly, avoiding Tim's smacking hand.
"You should wear it like this at work," he mused.
Tim huffed out a laugh. "No way. We don't need you getting even more boners on the job; we can all see them."
"They're Marshal stiffies, and Art said they're okay," Raylan joked back. He grabbed onto Tim's shoulder lightly and pulled. "Come down here."
Wonder of wonders, Tim followed his lead. He did more than that, actually, which was genuinely surprising and not just sarcastically so, and curled up with his cheek on Raylan's chest.
Raylan didn't question his luck and instead just wrapped his arm around Tim, holding him close. After a moment, he decided maybe it did need a little questioning, actually. "You're not kicking me to the couch?"
Tim shuffled a little closer. "Hey, you wanna risk it, who am I to stop you?"
He didn't have nightmares every night, Raylan had noticed, but who really knew what the addition of another body would do to his psyche?
"Guns are in the living room," he confirmed, "so I'll probably survive."
Tim frowned against his skin. "You think I can't kill you with my bare hands?"
"I said 'probably,' not 'definitely.'"