Jesus. He didn't realize how drunk he was the night before, how muffled everything actually was. Truthfully-- it's been a long time since he's had sex sober. There would probably be a lot to unpack there if he ever went to therapy, but, well. He's been ignoring that particular suggestion of his mother's for almost two years, he's not going to start listening now.

Without the alcohol running through his veins, everything feels that much more intense. Raylan's length buries all the way to the hilt, filling him perfectly and leaving him stretched to his limit. Tim can barely keep he groan in the back of his throat.

Those teeth find the already aching mark on the side of his neck, and that's really the beginning of the end for Tim. A sharp intake of breath precedes the moan as a bright jolt of pleasure shoots up his spine. Raylan moves faster, harder, clearly recalling exactly how Tim liked it from last night. One hand moves above his head, flattening against the headboard to keep Raylan from quite literally fucking him up the mattress. His back arches, both legs hitching around Raylan's waist so that he can shift the position of his hips, searching for that perfect angle, right there.

"Fuck, Raylan--"

It's loud, easily carrying over the creaking of the bed as Raylan thrusts. The head of Raylan's cock nails that sweet bundle of nerves inside him, and Tim sees stars as his whole body tenses briefly. At this rate, he really will have a stack of noise complaints by the time he gets home tonight.