[There was very clearly a line that could be ridden here and with slight easement of Collin's nipping kisses, Raylan eased his own grip, sighing lustfully at the attention and not fighting Collins taking his wrist back. His hand did go back to what it was doing, moving over and up to Collins' waist band as it's mate came to settle on the man's hip.
He didn't expect to hit any belt - why would Collins be in not 1930's pants, but there was no avoiding his own. Thankfully, nothing about it was hard to figure out and his cock wasn't directly in Zipper line of fire.]
You go tearin' parts off me, I'm gonna object. Makes me wonder if you'll even do the courtesy of spittin' before you start fuckin' me. [It was a tease, promise. Only sort of though.
Honestly, the fact that Raylan was letting Collins do anything at all made the Irishman the luckiest fucker on the boat right now.]
Well, I could always use tha blood from ripping a piece of ya off ta lubricate if it'd ease yer worry about that. Then we'd both get what we want.
[That was also a tease. Mostly.
It didn't take Collins any time to unfasten the belt or deal with the zipper so he must have been familiar with the items already but Givens wasn't wrong about Collins's wearing more old fashioned clothing. He kept up with the latest fashions of his time but not every piece he owned, even back home, had all the newest technology or fashion sense stitched into it. He was quick to pull the lawman's clothes down and expose him, his mind already set on the final goal.]
Horrifyin'. [Plainly stated, sweetly marred by his heavier breath as his dexterous digits move through the button enclosure quickly. As he went to feel Collins again, this time inside his pants, fingers curious if Collins went commando, Collins is pulling away and pulling his pants down. Raylan can't help but laugh a little, the whole gesture very reminiscent of childish 'pantsing' instead of hot, rough sex, but he also had nothing to be ashamed of.
Raylan was, in a few words, well endowed and leaned against the wall with his swimmer's leanness. Near 8 inches, solid thickness and uncircumcised, his hips pushed out a little before he pulled the rest of himself forward and straight, shoulders back off the wall.]
Your turn, [He grins and lifts his chin with the words, toeing out of his boots so he could kick his pants aside.]
[Collins couldn't help but look at all of Raylan whenever the lawman's movements kept him at bay. The sight of the other man was almost enough to make a man jealous--and some out there definitely would be--but Collins had gone through his entire life with what he had (short, prematurely bald, but with an easy athleticism) and refused to allow it to bother him. These days it really didn't even register. Instead, he licked his lips appreciatively and pushed the lawman deceptively gentle back against the wall once the clothes were gone.]
You want a show?
[He whispered into the marshal's ear. Oh how he wished he had a knife to play with right now. Longed to slice the bull's skin open and add his own permanent mark to the canvas in front of him. His hands raked possessively up and down Raylan's torso just at the thought of it.
There was no warning for what happened next: Collins punched Givens in the mouth with a short, quick jab. Another follow-up punch hit the tall man in the abdomen--the solar plexus to be more exact--to keep him light on breath. But Collins wasn't finished with Raylan, merely getting started. He pressed the bull back up against the wall whether the man was ready to straighten back up or not.]
No show. Ya take what ya get.
[But he did make a point of spitting into his hand before he reached down to run a single finger down Raylan's member. It wasn't for that. He kept going, reaching back up to the lawman's ass and starting graciously with one finger slipping inside to prep and gauge.]
[Collins was doing very well for himself to start - Raylan didn't fight the push back, hands creeping over Collins hips anyway, fingers pushing under the waistbands in the hopes of encouraging them to drop by the virtue of gravity alone. For a few seconds there, as Collins is lilting and honestly amazing accent in his ear and following it with hands that Raylan could appreciate, he thought that maybe he had found a lull in the roar of this all. He could be okay with this.
Then the Irishman struck, breaking his nose with a sickening crunch and making Raylan's eyes water as blood starts gushing, only to stop as - body bending over the fist in his stomach as his breath leaves him - his nose glows with a divine light, break being undone by forces that weren't anywhere around. The magic did fuck all for his wind being stolen and one hand flies back up to grab Collins's pushing hand's wrist, back into that iron grip. His other only manages to grab at Collins's forearm, short nails digging into the flesh as he aims to stop the man.]
[It wasn't the lawman's hands that stopped Collins from continuing his endeavor. It was the sight of the magical glow that made him pause. That made his blood boil in uncontrollable anger.]
Fuckin' magic. [His growl was so vehement that spittle flew.] You just another witch, lawman? Or are you in bed with one?
[He watched as the blood flow stopped before it had truly even begun and it was that victory taken from him that made his anger rise. Instead of some sweet melody the percussion beat heavily in his head and he wanted to make this man bleed again. Make him bleed till he couldn't anymore.
He ripped his hand away from the lawman's body and circled his arm till the hand at his forearm lost its grip and then he went for the lawman's throat.]
[Collins couldn't help but look at all of Raylan whenever the lawman's movements kept him at bay. The sight of the other man was almost enough to make a man jealous--and some out there definitely would be--but Collins had gone through his entire life with what he had (short, prematurely bald, but with an easy athleticism) and refused to allow it to bother him. These days it really didn't even register. Instead, he licked his lips appreciatively and pushed the lawman deceptively gentle back against the wall once the clothes were gone.]
You want a show?
[He whispered into the marshal's ear. Oh how he wished he had a knife to play with right now. Longed to slice the bull's skin open and add his own permanent mark to the canvas in front of him. His hands raked possessively up and down Raylan's torso just at the thought of it.
Instead, he curbed his predilections in favor of another kind of desire. One that had a reward at the end instead of another enemy while on board this damned boat. His hands curled aggressively around Raylan's hips, fingers digging into the flesh hard enough to leave bruises. He could only hold back so much.]
Patience, bull. You get what I want you ta get, when I give it to ya.
[He finished with a pointed bite to the soft spot just behind the jaw and close to the ear where he'd whispered his words. He didn't linger too long to taste if he broke the skin this time and instead moved to attack the lawman's mouth in rapacious fervor. Only a distraction as one of his hands relinquished its hold and moved to grasp the lawman's cock.]
[Collins was doing very well for himself - Raylan didn't fight the push back, hands creeping over Collins hips anyway, fingers pushing under the waistbands in the hopes of encouraging them to drop by the virtue of gravity alone. As Collins is lilting and honestly amazing accent in his ear and following it with hands that Raylan could appreciate even as he knew he'd feel the pads of Collins grip on his bones long after this was over, he starts to think that maybe he had found a lull in the roar of this all and his brain flits through images of Collins bending him over the desk table next to them, hand fisted in Raylan's hair, Collins holding his wrists with a belt around his neck-]
Wanna see you- [Is all that Raylan got out before Collins interrupted him to send a whole new twist down his spine. For all the masculinity that he had, for as much as he put up behind that to dare people into taking him as anything else, the idea of someone else calling the shots in this way, the idea of riding a very dangerous edge that terrified him and thrilled him at the same time - nothing can happen except a little shame, in the end. Raylan inhales sharply at the bite, meeting the crash of lips and furious lust with the same heat he was given, cock twitching into the touch as his hips lean forward encouragingly.]
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He didn't expect to hit any belt - why would Collins be in not 1930's pants, but there was no avoiding his own. Thankfully, nothing about it was hard to figure out and his cock wasn't directly in Zipper line of fire.]
You go tearin' parts off me, I'm gonna object. Makes me wonder if you'll even do the courtesy of spittin' before you start fuckin' me. [It was a tease, promise. Only sort of though.
Honestly, the fact that Raylan was letting Collins do anything at all made the Irishman the luckiest fucker on the boat right now.]
no subject
[That was also a tease. Mostly.
It didn't take Collins any time to unfasten the belt or deal with the zipper so he must have been familiar with the items already but Givens wasn't wrong about Collins's wearing more old fashioned clothing. He kept up with the latest fashions of his time but not every piece he owned, even back home, had all the newest technology or fashion sense stitched into it. He was quick to pull the lawman's clothes down and expose him, his mind already set on the final goal.]
no subject
Raylan was, in a few words, well endowed and leaned against the wall with his swimmer's leanness. Near 8 inches, solid thickness and uncircumcised, his hips pushed out a little before he pulled the rest of himself forward and straight, shoulders back off the wall.]
Your turn, [He grins and lifts his chin with the words, toeing out of his boots so he could kick his pants aside.]
no subject
You want a show?
[He whispered into the marshal's ear. Oh how he wished he had a knife to play with right now. Longed to slice the bull's skin open and add his own permanent mark to the canvas in front of him. His hands raked possessively up and down Raylan's torso just at the thought of it.
There was no warning for what happened next: Collins punched Givens in the mouth with a short, quick jab. Another follow-up punch hit the tall man in the abdomen--the solar plexus to be more exact--to keep him light on breath. But Collins wasn't finished with Raylan, merely getting started. He pressed the bull back up against the wall whether the man was ready to straighten back up or not.]
No show. Ya take what ya get.
[But he did make a point of spitting into his hand before he reached down to run a single finger down Raylan's member. It wasn't for that. He kept going, reaching back up to the lawman's ass and starting graciously with one finger slipping inside to prep and gauge.]
no subject
Then the Irishman struck, breaking his nose with a sickening crunch and making Raylan's eyes water as blood starts gushing, only to stop as - body bending over the fist in his stomach as his breath leaves him - his nose glows with a divine light, break being undone by forces that weren't anywhere around. The magic did fuck all for his wind being stolen and one hand flies back up to grab Collins's pushing hand's wrist, back into that iron grip. His other only manages to grab at Collins's forearm, short nails digging into the flesh as he aims to stop the man.]
no subject
Fuckin' magic. [His growl was so vehement that spittle flew.] You just another witch, lawman? Or are you in bed with one?
[He watched as the blood flow stopped before it had truly even begun and it was that victory taken from him that made his anger rise. Instead of some sweet melody the percussion beat heavily in his head and he wanted to make this man bleed again. Make him bleed till he couldn't anymore.
He ripped his hand away from the lawman's body and circled his arm till the hand at his forearm lost its grip and then he went for the lawman's throat.]
no subject
You want a show?
[He whispered into the marshal's ear. Oh how he wished he had a knife to play with right now. Longed to slice the bull's skin open and add his own permanent mark to the canvas in front of him. His hands raked possessively up and down Raylan's torso just at the thought of it.
Instead, he curbed his predilections in favor of another kind of desire. One that had a reward at the end instead of another enemy while on board this damned boat. His hands curled aggressively around Raylan's hips, fingers digging into the flesh hard enough to leave bruises. He could only hold back so much.]
Patience, bull. You get what I want you ta get, when I give it to ya.
[He finished with a pointed bite to the soft spot just behind the jaw and close to the ear where he'd whispered his words. He didn't linger too long to taste if he broke the skin this time and instead moved to attack the lawman's mouth in rapacious fervor. Only a distraction as one of his hands relinquished its hold and moved to grasp the lawman's cock.]
no subject
Wanna see you- [Is all that Raylan got out before Collins interrupted him to send a whole new twist down his spine. For all the masculinity that he had, for as much as he put up behind that to dare people into taking him as anything else, the idea of someone else calling the shots in this way, the idea of riding a very dangerous edge that terrified him and thrilled him at the same time - nothing can happen except a little shame, in the end. Raylan inhales sharply at the bite, meeting the crash of lips and furious lust with the same heat he was given, cock twitching into the touch as his hips lean forward encouragingly.]