Flint's sounds and the way his hands dragged over Raylan's shoulders served to make him greedier for getting the pirate spread and moaning, but getting to take his jeans off was it's own unique kind of fun. Drawn in, Raylan spreads his hands over Flint's shoulder, one coming back to firmly cradle his head as he moved, hazel eyes dark and suggestive, breath shuddering with a twitch of his stomach at the graze of teeth and lips and turning into a sharp inhale at the stripe of wet up his side. The shudder turned full body when Flint palms his already hard length and he groans at the adoring attention as he's pulled back down.

He came more than willingly, hand that wasn't bearing his weight sliding down Flint's bare thigh so he could pull it up onto his hip, grinding their cocks into the flesh press of their stomach as his lips found his again, tongue messily making it's way in to twist and wrestle with Flint's. When his lungs burned, Raylan broke it, hand sliding up to Flint's nipple to pluck at it as he spoke huskily.

"I got lube but I didn't think to look for condoms. That gonna be an issue?" He doubted it would be, drunk and eager as they both were, but if it was - well, Raylan could force himself to go see if the commissary was even open.