tinstar | Slingin' from the hip, never the heart.

Slingin' from the hip, never the heart. | Open Post

Raylan's job took him everywhere, from Harlan to Los Angeles to Paris. The Marshals service was demanding but Raylan leaned into the work, traveling as needed to get to get his man.

[Use this post to start threads or PSL'S!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[From here, shifted for propriety.

Kissing Tim had become an inevitability at some point since he had shown up here, their continuation of the dance they'd been stepping to for almost a year and a half only serving to draw Raylan closer into the gravity well of the younger man. Yes, he'd wanted this, even before showing up in Milton and what they'd suffered here, both together and separately, had broken down some of the barriers that naturally kept Raylan at bay.

Now, the only thing that could stop him was Tim himself and it didn't much feel like that was a possibility, at least not tonight.

He was beyond thrilled with that soft note of encouragement that did just what it should to urge him on, with the way Tim breathes out his surprise, and the way that he wraps his legs around Raylan's waist. He can't help a brief pull of a smile at Tim's comment, lips still curling at the edges as they kiss again. 'Just you" he wants to say but can't bring himself to break the kiss for it. Oh, Raylan wants. He wants to strip Tim down and chase the horrors of the day away one sweet touch and kiss at time. He wants to lose himself completely in the trusted and secure embrace of a man who knew him too well, a man who was the only one Raylan trusted implicitly at his back and his front.

Raylan's shirt comes up but he's forced to break the kiss again, murmuring a- "You're gonna hav'ta help pull it off," before the t-shirt is stripped away properly and he wastes no time in kissing Tim all over again, half a distraction so that Tim wouldn't have to look at the dark, ugly bloom of color and new scars on his ribs. His hands move again, a soft hum of pleasure coming from him as gun-rough hands got to move over the unbroken skin of Tim's back until a palm comes to Tim's waistline, eager to reach down and grip that tight ass that has taunted Raylan for an age. His other hand comes around front, the backs of his fingers brushing along Tim's skin as he goes hunting for Tim's belt buckle and the button that lay under it.

Edited 2025-08-02 00:01 (UTC)

It almost feels like a fever dream. He's spent so long imagining what it would feel like to have these calloused hands on his skin, to know exactly what Raylan's mouth tastes like. Some nights going as far as to take home someone with a similar crooked smile or that particular swagger in his step just so he can play pretend a little bit.

Now he doesn't have to. The day feels like a blur of activity and adrenaline, all of it coming to a point right here and now. Their lips caught in another rough kiss, Raylan's shirt abandoned on the kitchen floor. Both of them too eager and wanting to slow down. There's no turning back from this. Not now, not tomorrow. They've both separately and mutually agreed that there's no sense in waiting any longer, and now they're burning the bridge behind them together.

That doesn't mean Tim knows what happens after this. How deep this will run, what it'll all mean when the lust and heat have settled. If it's just sex or something more. The only thing he's certain of right now is that he's not going to let go of this easily now that he has it.

The kiss breaks only when breathing becomes a necessity again. Knuckles brush his skin as those nimble fingers begin to work at his belt, and Tim's hands settle on Raylan's shoulders to put just enough space between them that he can look down and finally see the damage.

"Oh, fuck."

The thing is, he doesn't sound concerned. Maybe he should given the extent of it, but his dick is already hard and all that beautiful red and purple splotching set into Raylan's ribs only sends a new rush of heat right between his legs. He finds it incredibly hot, and that's reflected both in his tone and the way his aura is overtaken entirely by the deep red. One hand slides down, fingers ghosting soft and careful over the tender skin, feeling the warmth radiating from it.

"Do you even know how fuckin' hot you look right now?" The hand not splayed over Raylan's torso comes up to knock the hat off his head, not particularly gentle in the way it tangles into his hair to drag him forward for another kiss.

Raylan's diligent digits don't stop as Tim draws back enough to see the blooming color, the bent hoof shape that wrapped oddly around his ribs in this form. That.. wasn't quite the reaction that Raylan had envisioned, primarily because it was so much more positive than he had expected. But Tim's aura goes red and Raylan grins, brash and broad and looking all the younger for it, pleased at the lusty exclamation. Who was he to complain if the abuse he suffered was hot when it got him Tim grabbing his hair like that?

There's a hitch of a moan in his throat as their lips come together, belt buckle melting away to button and zipper, both quickly dealt with so he could send a hand moving across Tim's bare hip, pushing fabric out of the way. Raylan tilts his head just enough to break the kiss for a moment, husking out a hot and lustful breath of- "Why don't you show me," in encouragement before kissing him again as he starts trying to work Tim's pants down.

He needed Tim against him, naked and panting, like he needed air to breathe right now. A newly freed lust might be the driving factor, but this wasn't just about sex. It was about of his heart having slipped into Tim's pocket when neither of them were looking. When either of them were paranoid and protective over each other, bit by bit. It was about letting the rest of him fall into Tim's arms, if the younger man would have him.

Edited 2025-08-02 16:27 (UTC)

He'll do his due diligence as a responsible partner and be concerned later, after they've almost certainly done more damage to it with everything they're doing here. Truthfully, Tim's not sure that he'd be on his feet if he had the same injuries, but it serves as a reminder that Raylan is technically a few odd degrees away from being fully human at this point.

Not that Tim minds. The way that Raylan picked him up so effortlessly earlier was mindlessly hot, and he's eager to explore what other ways that super strength can be utilized as time goes on.

He's probably getting a little ahead of himself. There's no guarantee of anything outside of the here and now, and Tim doesn't have the capacity to think that far ahead right now anyway. Not with the nimble fingers working past fabric and that husky tone going straight to his cock.

Tim isn't a piner by any means, but he has been imagining this every time he jerks off ever since Raylan sauntered his way into the Kentucky marshal's office. Now it's at his fingertips -- literally -- and he fully intends on finding the answers to most if not all the questions that've been spinning in his mind for a few years. Like, for instance, what his partner's cock tastes like.

When he unwraps his legs from that trim waist and shifts off the table to stand, it's not so they can better push his jeans down. They will, but first Tim is pulling Raylan's belt free and getting down on his knees in the same fluid movement. Looking up at that pretty bruising over his ribs and beneath his eye.

Tim will show him exactly how hot he thinks Raylan looks.

There wasn't a question about if Raylan was an 'All-American, red-blooded male' but if there was, the shallow gasp that he breathed in when Tim dropped to his knees said all that needed saying. Of course he had thought about this. Of course he had masturbated to the thought, only to feel the shame of impropriety afterwards. But there was none of that shame to be felt here in the present reality of Tim's dark blues looking up at him the way they were.

Goddamn, Tim looks good on his knees.

He doesn't hesitate in helping where he can, doesn't mind being the first one naked and as his pants are opened and his cock freed from the cotton boxers to bounce eagerly in the air, he grins impishly. They're pushed down and kicked to the side without much thought. All of Raylan's everything was focused on his partner and the way Tim's hands felt on him.

"Feels like I've been thinkin' about this for forever," he says roughly, one hand coming to brush a thumb against Tim's face, stuck somewhere between wanting to sink into Tim's hair and wanting to draw him back up so Raylan can ravage him the way he wants to.

Edited 2025-08-17 01:55 (UTC)

He's not sure where those words hit harder, his cock or his heart. It's an odd overlap of feelings he's entirely unused to in these situations. Lust is lust, love is-- something he chooses not to experience by virtue of not letting anyone get close enough to let it happen.

Except he and Raylan have been close for awhile now, maybe even before they were living together in a daily fight for survival. At home, he wasn't particularly picky about who he got on his knees for. Here, Raylan's the only person he can fathom being this way with.

He breathes out, the thumb on his cheek sending a warmth down his spine that has very little to do with arousal. Wrapping calloused but nimble fingers around the base of Raylan's cock, his gaze drops briefly to see what he's working with, how much better it is than his imagination could've supplied.

"You're not the only one," he says, and it feels like admitting something rather large, so he gets to work distracting them both.

Wetting his lips, he looks back up because he wants to see Raylan's face as he takes the tip into his mouth. Sucking gently and savoring the taste of precome on his tongue before dipping his head further. He wastes very little time sliding his lips all the way to the base, holding himself there because he enjoys the head heavy in the back of his throat.

His hands move up to Raylan's hips, thumbs pressing where the skin dips beneath the bone as he begins to bob his head steadily, taking the entire length each time.

You're not the only one. A wash of relief bubbled up through his lust, breath staying shallow and uneven until Tim wraps his fingers around his length. How much time had they missed, ignoring those feelings?

There wasn't a shred of concern on the man's face for the fact that Raylan was uncut, no obvious disappointments in what he saw - a cock that was on the longer side of eight inches, proportionally girthy - and as Tim starts to swallow him down, his breath hitches and exhales a low moan with fluttering eyelids and a lean that seemed to present himself for anything Tim wanted to do.

Maybe it was normal, to feel this way about someone who consistently saved his life or had his back in truly dangerous times, to be this protective. Raylan would have torn down a building to save Tim before they showed up here and he still remembers how Tim shot to his feet when Arlo slapped Raylan that one time and now - now, Raylan couldn't imagine what he would do if something happened to his partner. His partner that had firmly found himself on the other side of the partner line. His partner.

He groans as Tim holds him deep in his throat, hand moving to card into those soft, dirty blond curls with a grip that didn't dictate pace or depth, dark eyes opening after a long moment to watch Tim work.

"Goddamn darlin'," he breathes out, hips taking to a soft thrust in time with the pace that Tim had set. "Who knew those lips of yours could look even better than they do?"

Raylan was lowkey obsessed with Tim's mouth, now that he'd let himself feel the things sitting deep in his chest. All those little tugs of smirks and that lip licking thing that Tim does drives him to distraction more than it should have and now, Raylan got to keep this mental image in that bank of distraction.

Okay, so Raylan has a thing for his lips. A very important piece of information that Tim will be cataloging and storing away for future use, should this kind of opportunity ever present itself again. Given the fact that they've both apparently been thinking about this for awhile, it seems unlikely to be a one time thing.

He can't quite smirk like this, but he can arch his brows as he uses his tongue to tease at the head, as if to say yes -- this mouth is good for something other than just making smart ass remarks. Raylan's cock is basically a dream, and while he actually wasn't expecting his partner to be uncut, he's neither disappointed nor at a loss of what to do with it. A little less sucking, a little more teasing at the tip. He's not good at much beyond putting people down and getting drunk without blacking out, but this is something he's had plenty of practice in.

One hand drops down, slipping into the front of his jeans to palm himself through the thin fabric of his underwear. Maybe at some point he'll get the chance to suck Raylan off to completion and live out the fantasy of his partner coming down his throat or all over his face, sometime when this doesn't feel like it could all slip away if they slow down too much.

Right now-- right now he needs Raylan inside of him, moving against him, holding him tight enough to bruise so he has a tangible marker that this happened and it wasn't just some exhaustion fueled fever dream. He pulls off, getting to his feet and immediately pulling Raylan in for another kiss, one hand sliding over the back of his neck. The other begins to hastily push his own jeans down, stepping out of them and kicking his boots off in roughly the same movement.

"Raylan--" He's backing himself back up against the table, pulling his partner along with him, breathing heavily with the anticipation and desire. "I want you to fuck me the way you've thought about most."

A breath hitches and holds as Tim focuses on his tip and Raylan eagerly daydreams about emptying himself down Tim's throat. The idea battles with how hot it would be to cum on Tim's face and both are abandoned as he notes Tim's hand down his own pants. Jesus. He was trying to not feel like a dirty old man, but the things he would watch Tim do. The things he would let Tim do.

He draws a ragged breath as Tim pulls off him and there was no fight in the way he submitted to Tim's pull, kissing him hungrily as one hand tries to help as much as he's able to. When the kiss breaks, he's breathing heavily, eyes dark and hungry and full of lusty purpose.

"Then you're in for a long night darlin', because my mind has bent you over or been ridden into every flat surface of this house," he admitted huskily, hands greedy in their eagerness to grab and lift Tim to set him on the edge of the dining room table. "I do somethin' you don't like, don't want, you tell me," he continues, one hand smoothing up Tim's chest to push him gently back down onto his back on the table as the other comes up to take a wad of spit that is boldly smeared across Tim's hole and followed by another for his cock as he slicks himself down and lines himself up to start to push against Tim's tight ring of muscle.

"But don't you dare hide so much as a moan; I wanna hear it all."

Fuck.

Tim's been thinking about this for what feels like forever and Raylan clearly has too -- he's said as much, but it's something else entirely to hear it like that. To think back of all the times they sat on the couch here together, the times he bent over the table to clear away their meal, or crouched in front of the fire to stoke the flames, there were instances of Raylan thinking about this.

"You're gonna be hard pressed to find somethin' I don't like," Tim warns, following the gentle press of his partner's hand to lay back on the table. Hopefully it's sturdy, because trying to explain to their neighbors why they're having to scavenge a new one if it breaks will be... interesting.

Worth it, though. Absolutely worth it as Raylan starts to push inside, and-- it's been a minute, admittedly, and he has gone from hooking up with strangers a few nights a week to not fucking anyone at all for a couple of months. He's tight and he's sensitive, a lovely mixture of faint pain and intense pleasure flooding his system. The adjustment is easy, like riding a bike, and mere moments pass before his legs are tightening around Raylan's hips in encouragement. He groans low in his throat, the sound clearly restrained from what it could be because he's looking Raylan in the eye with a challenge.

"If you can fuck me real good, Raylan, I'll moan like a whore for you."

There's a flash of a grin across Raylan's face as that hand pushing moves down to settle on Tim's hip, eyes greedy in the way he took in how good Tim looked spread out like this. It was always better than he imagined, Tim's trim lines long laid out. He didn't worry about the neighbors - there was only one other occupied house on the street and they were far enough away that Raylan was sure they could pass off ignorance if asked. He hoped.

Right now it didn't matter. What mattered is that he trusted Tim's word enough to take it as the permission and comfort that it offered. Tim was far from fragile physically and knew how to use his body. Something Raylan was eager to put to the test tonight.

His own breath hitches as Tim's body lets him in, eyes darting down to watch himself vanish into Tim's velvet clutch before coming back up just in time for those words. He can't stop the groan that comes with the sudden exhale of breathy almost laughter, lips curling at the edges as he starts to move, answering as he works himself in to the base.

"You have any complaints, you can let me know." Something he doubted would happen - he'd never gotten complaints before - and he didn't waste any time in his hands moving to catch Tim under his knees and spread him wide as the short working strokes turned into easy, long ones. Raylan's eyes flutter with a half sighed groan as he interrupts the pace to bury himself deep and roll his hips before starting again, one hand moving back to Tim's hip to help try and keep him in place as he picks up speed.

"But I intend to make you sore enough to last for days, darlin'," he husked in promise, a few strands of his bangs finally coming loose from his quaff.

Apparently, Raylan understood the assignment.

Hands hook behind his knees, spreading his legs wide, and Jesus fucking Christ-- even without having been here the last couple of months, it's been a while since he's been fucked like this. And Raylan does it exactly how Tim expected him to. Carnally, intuitively, like he knows what he's fucking doing. Reading the minuscule shifts to Tim's body and responding in kind.

It's already incredible. Better than every fantasy and scenario he's had turning in his mind. An intense mutual desire, years of pent up dirty thoughts coming to fruition. He knew before, really, but he's certain of it now. There's no way he can't push for this to be more than a one time thing.

Tim grips the edge of the table with one hand just to keep himself in place, fairly certain the one hand on his hip from Raylan isn't going to be enough once they really get going. He's already hot, flushed and sweating, struggling to keep his eyes open through the pleasure. He doesn't want to take his gaze off of Raylan. He doesn't want to miss a single second of the thing he's dreamed so long about.

"You better be -- God, fuck -- bringin' me breakfast in bed tomorrow," he groans, his free hand slipping down to wrap around his own length, stroking in time with Raylan's thrusts.

"Breakfast?" He grins, hips pounding into Tim, relishing in the fact that Tim's hand was matching pace for a moment before burying himself deep, almost seeing if he could get those dark blues of Tim's to close under the wash of it all. "You're gonna be breakfast. First and second course, at least."

He starts moving again, slowly so he could watch all those miniscule shifts and changes in Tim's body, wanting to narrow in so he could sweetly torture the sniper in the best way. He was planning on taking his time, stretching tonight and the morning as long as he can.

"Once you're full, I'll bring you whatever food you want. As full service a kitchen as I can provide."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Slingin' from the hip, never the heart. | Open Post

Sing Continued 1 - First touches

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject