(no subject)

[shootouts]

Who: Tim and Raylan
What: Vampire AU, Raylan isn't following orders as usual. Continued from here.
Warnings: Vampire stuff, who knows

Raylan knew that going up to Lexington to meet with Tim and get his weekly fix along with giving his report was the best option open to them. But knowing that wasn't enough. There had to be some option that didn't involve him getting so damn intimate with a friend and ex-coworker. He'd called Tim a few hours before, but just got his voicemail. Saying he couldn't get away for their weekly meeting, but he'd find a way to get the report to him. It was total bullshit.

He went to the the very place he'd discussed with Tim. Sitting in one of the trailers at Audrey's, with who he was assured was their cleanest girl. He'd talked her down from having sex with him, offering to pay her double just for her wrist. This seemed to confuse the poor addled girl. He was part of Boyd's crew, that meant he got it all and at half price.

Comments

[comfortablyerect]

Just like that, Raylan's gone, and for one odd, light-headed moment, Tim thinks maybe he'd been dreaming this whole time. That would be an interesting turn from the nightmares that usually plague him. But his dreams after being fed on area always a little strange, never set in Afghanistan's dry deserts, but frequently set in the acres of woods behind his childhood home, or the grassy land behind the baseball fields in high school. Dreams that remind him of simpler times.

Not dreams that involve he and Raylan in a hotel room.

Tim sits up, and the deep breath he draws in helps to clear his head and steady him a bit. The room doesn't spin, at least, even if he still feels a bit light headed. Raylan's across the room, breathing heavily, and Tim knows what happened. He can only guess the amount of self-control that goes into a situation like this from Raylan's end. He can only guess how difficult it must be to resist the urge to bite. Probably, it's more difficult than it is for Tim to keep from begging to be bitten. But that's definitely hard to imagine.

It's hard, he's sure, but right now, he's mostly just annoyed.

"I know." He moves to the edge of the bed, sitting on it with his feet on the floor. He'd stand, just to put them on more even ground, but he honestly doesn't know how well that would work out for him with the side-effects of the blood loss. "We won't. Come back over here."

[shootouts]

He knew he should leave. Just as quickly as he'd removed himself from the bed, he could be out the door. But what would that solve? It would leave Tim to find someone else to dig him any early grave, or someone with far more corrupt morals than Boyd could get his claws into Tim and turn him. For Tim's sake he couldn't stay, and for Tim's sake he couldn't leave. Damn it. Why did he have to give a damn about the deputy?

Slowly, Raylan composed himself. He removed his weight from the wall as he breathing calmed. He took his time straightening his shirt, but there was only so much he could do with the fabric before it became obvious he was stalling.

"You know damn well that I can't do that, either," he growled, not looking at Tim. "Lest we end up right back in the same spot."

Tim wasn't his responsibility. Tim was a grown man capable of making his own damn choices. At least, that's what Raylan kept trying to tell himself as he continued to stand there, like his presence alone could keep the other from making terrible choices.

[comfortablyerect]

They keep ending back up in this spot, a room apart, Raylan glowering and Tim frustrated. He could tell Raylan to leave, or simply leave himself. He could be smart and go home and have a drink before bed. Or he could be stupid and find someone to fuck him right. In the back of his car or in a filthy bathroom, he doesn't care at this point. With as hard as his cock is, he thinks he might need it more than the bite.

But he doesn't want to go home, and he doesn't want to sleep with someone else. This is the particular path of self-destruction he wants to continue down: him, Raylan, a ratty hotel room, and the resent that was bound to follow. This is going to fuck everything up, but Jesus Christ, does he want it.

He might change his mind tomorrow, but right now, he's ready to watch his world burn.

"Fine," he says softly, and pushes himself to his feet. He stays upright and steady, the room barely wobbling at all. Either Raylan's blood is doing its job and helping him heal, or Tim's simply grown accustomed to whatever lingering dizziness there is. He crosses the room, closing the distance between them. If Raylan won't come to him, he'll simply go to Raylan.

He doesn't stop until there's only inches between them, and when he reaches out, it's to work loose the button on Raylan's jeans. "I promise I'll behave," he says, even offering the smallest of smiles.