As soon as Raylan lets go of his wrists, Tim's bringing a hand up to the other's hair, fingers tangling into it. There's a part of him that wants to feel Raylan's fangs against his lips like before, threatening to break the delicate skin. But it's a bad idea, and he knows it's a bad idea, and he's not too keen on doing anything to disrupt this momentum.

The idea that Raylan's only making good on the promise he made — the idea that he's not really into this, that he's only following through with what he'd said he'd do — doesn't even cross his mind. Because between the way Raylan kisses him and rocks his hips, there's not a doubt in his mind that the other man wants this too.

Of course, that means Tim can't pretend he's straight anymore, and really, neither can Raylan. But that ship sailed a long time ago anyway.

His legs hook around Raylan's waist and his hands leave the other man's hair in order to get to his shirt, his fingers only a little bit unsteady from some combination of lust and blood loss. Still, they start undoing the buttons easily enough. Last time was nothing more than a quickie, something Tim hadn't bothered with since high school. He fully intends on making this more than that.