errantechoes | (no subject)

(no subject)

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Tim refrained from arching up or pulling Raylan down, staying very still instead. His hand smoothed out in Raylan's shirt, resting flat against his back. His free hand came up, fingers curling around Raylan's wrist as if to hold him there. Tim tilted his head back further, eyes closed and lips parted, trying and only marginally succeeding not to pant. The only thing he could find to compare this too, the slow build and curling pleasure, was a torturous, articulate blowjob. Only this felt so much better, with the intense natural euphoria that came with it. It was so close to being as good as the first time it happened.

In not rushing, in not having to worry about going too far too fast, something in Raylan relaxed. Something deep inside him that had been coiled tight for so long he'd stopped noticing it. And as it unclenched, he found it harder to resist that urge of his. Not because he wanted it any more or less than before, but because as he started to relax, conscious thought because far less of a priority. So it wasn't long at all before he was shifting his position, his hands gently trying to push Tim back onto the bed.

Tim was too far gone now to even try and care about the incredibly level of intimacy they were apparently heading straight for. All he could concentrate on was having Raylan's mouth on him. He only clung to Raylan's shirt tighter as he allowed himself to be guided back, intent on not letting Raylan be too far away. He laid back, head tilting back automatically to bare his neck further, legs shifting to accommodate Raylan's position.

Raylan paid no attention to their positions beyond the proximity of his mouth to Tim's throat. The very brief window that he had to pull away so they could shift was far too long. In his haste to reclaim it, his knee ended up pressed to the bed between Tim's thighs, intimately close. But he didn't seem to notice or care. One hand planted against the bed beside the deputy's head, the other rested on the other side of his neck, just as it had been before.

It would've been so easy for Tim to hike his leg up against Raylan's hip, to arch and press into him and make this even more intimate than it already was. The line they'd never quite crossed was already blurred beyond belief, and it wouldn't take much to obliterate it completely. But he didn't; he left the line where it was and focused on the hand on his neck, bringing his hands around to grip at the front of Raylan's shirt.

And it would take just the smallest shift of position to inadvertently cross over that line that was so blurred it was incredibly difficult to see. Consciously, he knew things that were most certainly on the other side of that line. But what he refused to even consider was that things that tied into that feeling he craved were also on that side of the line. And since he was very much not working at coherent, conscious level, he stepped right over where he knew the line should be. He lowered himself to his elbow, his entire lean form pressing against Tim's body, his thigh pressing right against something that no two professional men should even have considered.

What Tim hadn't expected was Raylan crossing the line for them. He thought he would have to be the one to do it, if it were going to happen at all. He was pleasantly surprised to find out he'd been wrong. Raylan pressed himself down and Tim let out a startled moan that he'd intended on holding back. His hands slid back around to grip at Raylan's shoulders, needing something more solid to hold onto than just his shirt. Then he did bring his leg up against Raylan's hip, pressing upwards in return. The feeling of having Raylan properly on top of him mixed with the feeling of Raylan's fangs in his neck was almost enough to make him dizzy.

Feeling Tim move under him brought about a quiver of doubt under all of those warm, good feelings. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, that he should stop all together. But it was inspiring other feelings, stirring up other things, that made thinking even more difficult, and his jeans incredibly uncomfortable. He pulled back from the bite, ever so slightly. Just enough to press his lips together. He let out an unsteady breath, wanting to press down and get a little friction for himself. But instead he just shifted, his thigh rubbing against the deputy's jeans. "Tim..." he breathed out, knowing he should say they should stop, but wanting so bad to ask for something more.

Tim didn't even care that Raylan wasn't actively biting him anymore, because he was still high on the feeling of it, and would be for a little while yet, with or without Raylan's teeth in him. Tim only shook his head at his name, not really capable of forming any coherent words. He rocked his hips up hard, groaning into Raylan's shoulder at the incredible friction. He didn't want to stop, because as soon as they stopped and the feelings had the chance to subside, he'd have to actually think about it, and thinking was the last thing he wanted to do. That was why he was here to begin with.

That small encouragement was all that was needed to completely obliterate the last shred of resolve he had to hold himself back. The same thing that got him into bed with Ava, with Winona, and had the two of them in that hotel room. All at once, he shifted gears. Lips still tinged with blood, fangs still out, he moved up to crush his lips against Tim's. He pushed himself up slightly, to get both hands between them, fingers blindly tugging at the man's belt to get it unfastened.

He could taste his own blood on Raylan's lips, something sharp and coppery on his tongue, and something about it turned him on. Raylan's fangs were sharp on his mouth, threatening to break the delicate skin. So he kissed back harder, inviting it, wanting it as much as he wanted Raylan's hands in his jeans. His hands shifted back to the front of Raylan's shirt, fingers working shakily at the buttons.

Raylan was conscious enough to not let his fangs tear into Tim's lower lip, but the dragged over the delicate skin enough to draw out the smallest amount of blood. Tasting it there pulled the neediest moan from him, as he kissed harder. Wrenching the buckle open finally, he started tugging and pulling at the button and zipper, fingers sliding under the denim the moment he got it open.

Tim swallowed the moan, letting his tongue slide over Raylan's lips and fangs and the cut in his own lip. He'd given up on getting Raylan's shirt off for the time being; his hands were steady enough and his concentration was shot. Instead, he slid a hand up to Raylan's neck, curling around the back of it like he wanted to hold him there. He arched his hips up needily, pulse stuttering unevenly in his throat.

Raylan didn't care about his shirt. He sucked hard at that bleeding lip for a moment, his hand stalled. But when he kissed Tim properly again, blood tinging it still, he tugged those jeans down to Tim's thighs. His palm slid over the other's boxers before his fingers gave that cock a firm squeeze. He didn't seem to care that his own jeans were painfully snug. He just cared that he could taste and smell the arousal growing with each touch. He could hear it in every breath, every beat of Tim's heart, and he wanted more of it.

All Tim could do was moan like a whore against Raylan's mouth, hands gripping at him desperately, tasting the metallic tang of the blood in the kiss. His mind was a fog of high and arousal, absolutely useless for anything that wasn't Raylan's lips on his or the hand rubbing his cock. He groaned louder, somewhat brokenly, at that, hips pressing upwards needily for more.

Raylan's hand pulled away finally, so he could fumble with his own belt. He had no plan in mind, he hadn't brought anything to assist in the process, and really he wasn't thinking ahead any further than relieving the pressure. But he only got as far as getting the zipper down before he returned his hand to Tim's cock, stroking up through that fabric.

Tim practically whined when Raylan pulled his hand away, mourning the loss of friction. He couldn't remember the last time he was this needy and desperate or the last time he was this fucking turned on. He groaned when Raylan's hand was on his cock again, and he brought his leg up higher, partially hooking it around Raylan's waist so he could rock their hips together with Raylan's hand in between.

The contact, even just against his own hand, made Raylan gasp. He pulled away from the kiss, head bowed as his hips moved, involuntarily grinding down against the deputy beneath him. The sensation was electric, shooting through him, lighting up all of that pent up desire that he'd so blatantly ignored since they'd started this. After a few breaths, he crushed his mouth against Tim's again, letting his fangs dig in hard against his lip this time.

Fangs sinking into his lip should not feel that damn good, but Tim let out a startled noise that was some mix of pleasure and pain against Raylan's mouth. The sharp pain part of it threw everything into a sudden focus for a moment, making him acutely aware of the bed against his back and his heart thumping hard in his chest and Raylan's weight against him before the soft pleasure part made everything fuzzy again. He clung to Raylan tighter to make sure he didn't try to pull away, rocking his hips up hard, groaning low in the back of his throat.

Raylan sucked at that lip, but it wasn't enough anymore. None of it was enough. He broke away from the kiss, his whole body moving against Tim's, lips falling back to his throat. Without delay, he found a new spot, a little higher than the first, his fangs sinking in again. Blindly, he reached for Tim's hand, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging it down between them. Trying to show what he wanted, before he started tugging at Tim's boxers, trying to get them out of the way.

Raylan was being rough and pushy and Tim loved it, craved more of it. It made him want to be pinned down and wake up with bruises. Fangs sinking into his neck sent his thoughts scattering, though. "Fuck, fuck," he groaned, tipping his head to bare more of his neck. He got Raylan's message loud and clear. Licking blood off his lips, he used both hands to blindly shove Raylan's jeans and boxers down, fingers wrapping around his cock once Tim had access to it. His grip was firm as he stroked, forcing himself to start out slow.

Those fingers felt far better than anything he'd ever expected, drawing a moan out of him as he inadvertently drove his fangs harder into Tim's neck. He was barely even drinking anymore, just focused on breathing. On the overwhelming sensations of that hand, of the movements beneath him, of the man's breathing and heartbeat, of how he smelled, how he tasted. He finally got Tim's boxers down enough to start returning the favor, stroking his cock firmly.

Tim gasped at the feeling of fangs digging harder into his skin, tapering the sound off into a needy whine at the end. He arched his hips up into Raylan's hand, panting and pushing for more. He twisted his wrist to a better angle, one that allowed him to start stroking faster. His mind was too hazy to really concentrate on pacing himself, and the rate they were going at wasn't even sort of fit for slow build ups anyway.

Focus wasn't even an option anymore. His bite wasn't even all that deep, a trickle of blood, and still he was spilling more than he actually swallowed. He dragged his tongue over the wounds, just making more of a mess. His hips bucked and rolled against Tim's hand, desperate and demanding. They'd had a slow, torturous build for months. That was over with, now. He could feel that heat building deep inside him, but it still wasn't enough. His own hand continued to work Tim over, stroking him with desperate urgency.

Tim shivered, and he didn't even care that it was getting messy, that the blood was getting sticky on his neck and probably spotting the bed under him in places, or that his mouth was still bleeding a little, leaving him with that taste of copper he had an unnatural fondness for. A combination of having been so awfully worked up even before Raylan had properly laid him down and how much the bite turned him on and Raylan's hand working him over so fucking nicely pushed him to the edge faster than he thought he'd ever gotten there before. It was long before moaning loud and coming hard, arching and clinging to Raylan with his free hand, the other one jerking his cock unsteadily.