the_cupbearer | psl for Raylan: post-shootout

"I didn't intend to get shot at all." He hadn't been overextending himself trying to be a hero; he'd just been trying to defuse a situation that was already bad, and rapidly moving to worse. And when Raylan had shown up...it had been impossible not to feel relief wash over him like a heavy blanket.

Ganymede closed his eyes when that hand came up to mold along his jaw, and all the tension abruptly left him, leaning heavily into Raylan's chest, cheek pressed to the soft fabric of his shirt. His hair was still plaited back in the long, thick braid he habitually wore it in, trailing down his spine though he tugged it over his shoulder, absently pulling on the end as he took several measured breaths, deep enough to feel his ribs expand. "I saw you when you came in and he aimed at you, and I was scared. I didn't--and don't--want you hurt because of me."

Free hand slipping naturally around G's shoulders as Raylan embraces him, thumb rubbing back and forth across where it could in what comfort he could give. He knew that his appearance sometimes brought relief, but it did little in the aftermath of things, when the adrenaline finally fades.

"It won't be the last gun pointed at me, darlin'. My draw just has to be better. And it is. I've done this high noon shit more than once." It's what he would be doing his whole life, riding that line between life and death, fate held in a breath and a heart beat.

"I do it so you don't have to. " He does it so no one else has to. So single mothers and abused souls who don't have it in them don't have to do it. "They're just men who chose poorly. Ain't worth half a thought, they chose their paths."

Raylan's presence brough more relief than he knew, at least for Ganymede; he'd been there, he'd stayed until the end--hell, they were here together in Raylan's apartment. Motel room. Whatever. It was nicer than some places Ganymede had lived, and he was willing to take the company however he got it, as long as it was his lover. "I know it won't be," he murmured, the fingers of his free hand curling absently around one belt loop of the man's trousers, pressing as if the gentle tug would bring Raylan closer than he already was.

"I wouldn't want you to be anything but who you already are," Ganymede said quietly, purposefully not moving the hand across his back and shoulders, lifting his head as one hand traced its thumb across mcross Raylan's lip, feeling the swell of muscle and heat of skin under him. "Just... Kiss me, and shut me up for a little while.'

It's hard to truly believe that statement, that he doesn't want Raylan to be anything than what he already is - a few near death experiences would probably change that sooner or later, as it always did. But that was down the road and right now, Ganymede had asked for something simple. Easy to do and sinking into something that doesn't require any thought about what they've been through was Raylan's weakness.

So he does as he is asked, bending down to kiss the seemingly younger man and move their weight back onto the bed. Yes, he would kiss. Kiss and worship Gaynmede down to the bone if he was allowed, long fingers already getting impatient with the fabric that kept him from G's soft skin so selfishly. It didn't matter that Gaynmede was hurt or it did matter, but it wasn't going to stop them. Raylan understood that too. A little pain was a good reminder, a good motivator and sometimes the silver-lining on the high that was their own arousal.

His lover splayed him out so easily on the bed, hemmed in by his much lankier partner; Raylan had him beat in reach, he knew that, though they were the same height, and not much different in weight. But he wasn't pinned, not restrained as much as kept in close where every part of the other was in easy reach, and Ganymede could feather his hands out over the sweep of Raylan's ribs and waist, tugging his shirttails free from his belt, tripping over the maddening and suddenly-arcane buttons holding it closed. He wanted to touch skin, and feel the warmth of his lover pressed tightly to him. He loved the way Raylan's chest felt against his back, one arm heavy on his waist when they slept together, and his breath fluttering against his shoulder and neck.

Ganymede opened his thighs to pull his lover in closer still, short nails gently scratching at the small of Raylan's back, lips still pressed together. "God, you're beautiful," he breathed, the tip of his nose brushing his lover's cheek. "And you're mine."

Ganymede smelled like sweat and blood and gunfire, life and fear and victory over the ultimate enemy - death. They'd made it, they'd survived and Raylan was already a little drunk on Ganymede's closeness. As he always was. He breaths in the musk with a little note of appreciation for the legs around him, for the scratching of his back and hums another little note.

"All yours," he purrs, lifting only just enough to pull his shirt up over his head, leaving him dressed in the a-line undershirt that rode up his hip as he comes back down to kiss Ganymede breathless again. He wanted to make sure the man was gasping before turning the soft scrape of his lips down Ganymede's jaw and towards his ear.

"And here to make you think about nothin' other than us movin' together." The sentiment comes with a lean in of his hips, erection already well evident. "Let's get you outta that shirt."

Normally, he'd just start helping that process along, but G was hurt. They had to be careful in some spots.

"I want you all over me," Ganymede breathes gently, head tilting up and away under the scratch of Raylan's goatee, one hand skating up his lover's back and the other pulling at his shirt, trying to get it off without unbuttoning it, tugging ineffectively. "On me, inside me. Come on," he moans, voice kicking up at the end whe Raylan slides his lips up towards his earlobe. He bucks up, stronger than most everyone gives him credit for given his willowy shape, forcing his head back against the sheets.

"Please, please, please," he sighs, breath coming faster and thicker, slinging one of his knees around Raylan's hip to pull him in flush against his front, squeezing gently and showing that his own erection is already at full mast behind his jeans, the denim keeping his cock pressed to his belly. "I don't want you to be gentle, Raylan."

Raylan pulls back and helps his lover out of his shirt, fingers quickly undoing his own belt and top button before freeing Ganymede from that too. He had never had any issue not being gentle when Ganymede wanted it, but it wasn't something he easily or lightly assumed. But when given a green light, there wasn't any hesitation.

"Kick off your shoes," he says with a dark and husky rumble, toeing off his boots and kicking them to the side so he could shuck his jeans and start pulling Gaynmede's off. He only cared about the first leg, enough to get things free, enough that he could swoop in and consume Gaynmede's cock to the back of his throat. It was only half for distraction, his free hand fumbling into the nightstand to grab some lube. The blowjob would only last a few glorious skilled seconds - Raylan enjoyed giving oral sex as much as he liked receiving it - before he was popping off and moving forward, slick cock pressing into and past Ganymede's tight ring with a groan as he claims the man's mouth again.

The jeans Raylan peeled him out of like a fruit shell, turning inside-out with a throaty chuckle as he kicked off his shoes, scooting back on the bed until his lover swallowed him down and made him bow up like a taut string. "Oh--god, Raylan," he gasped, swallowing thickly, one hand barely coming up to cradle the back of his lover's head before he pulled off.

He fell back with a shuddering sigh, letting Raylan push him up, biting into those lips when they met his and groaning with a flutter of eyelashes at the feel of his cock pressing against him. "F--fuck, yes," he sighed against Raylan's mouth, curling up against him. He hitched one leg up higher with a soft hiss and a little grimace at the tug on his stitches, but nothing was going to stop him from enjoying sex with his lover, still riding high on the buzz from adrenaline after the afternoon. "Just like that, just...like that," he breathed, head flopped back on the blankets scrunched up beneath them. "Just don't stop."

Edited 2024-08-19 02:40 (UTC)

Raylan loves those sounds, breathing them in like they were fuel for his fire. He thrusts a few times, hard to bury himself swiftly in the tight hot clutch of Gaynmede's body before setting into something of a rhythm as he kisses and bites at his lover's neck.

"You feel perfect," he breathes back, pulling back so that he can hook his hands behind Gaynmede's knees and spread him wide so that Raylan can enjoy the view of him spread out and eager underneath him, his bangs falling wild in front of his eyes. Just as eager to earn more of those gasping breathless noises, Raylan fucks him steadily before slowing to bury himself in deep and hard a few times more.

"This what you want, darlin'?"

He smelled like gunpowder and bourbon and sweat and glorious sex, and Ganymede breathed in the scent of his lover as he held on tightly to Raylan's shoulders. They'd done this before, tangled up in bedsheets and half-pulled-off clothing as their bodies met over and over again with catches of breath and quick kisses. "Fucking--yes," he cried in answer to Raylan's soft-panted question, head thrown back to expose his neck, spread open like a pinned butterfly on the bed, skin already dusky and turning red where Raylan's teeth have sunk in.

This made him feel alive, feel his heart throbbing in his chest as his nerves all lit up like neon tubes from the way his lover fucked into him, buried deep enough that he could feel every twitch of Raylan's thighs. "God, Raylan, yes..." he groaned, eyelashes fanning his cheeks as he dragged in a full breath again.

His body rolls with his rhythm, the ugliness of the day fading behind the primal urge to push and please, to lose himself into the rush of heat and pleasure. Rough palms slide down Ganymede's thighs, thumb tucking under his balls to collect them for a half second before they're let go, palm moving over that hard cock and up his stomach and chest, fingers coming around to pinch one nipple.

They weren't going to stay like this - Raylan wanted his lover to ride him as he cummed, but the Marshal had the stamina of a man twenty years younger.

Ganymede pants against him as Raylan fucks into him, short nails scraping over skin as he pulls Raylan in close and loving the inexorable rhythm. It was desperate and hard and hot as hell the way they came together over and over again, and Ganymede loved the almost punishing rhythm. His partner had strength and stamina on his side, and he loved the way it felt each time the Marshal bottomed out inside him.

"Fuck... Raylan," he murmured with a jerk to his hips, heels pressed firm to the backs of Raylan's thighs to make him stay deep, muscles beginning to quiver. "'M gonna come soon," he managed breathlessly as he squeezed his own cock, tryin to force back the rising tide of orgasm. God, it felt good. He was forever held in thrall right at the end of adolescence, body responsive and shamelessly easy to arouse and tease. "Fuck, give it to me!"

He had plenty of moves when he was trapped, hips rolling like he could push himself deeper before he starts rutting again, hitting that sweet spot that made Ganymede tremble around him. It was intoxicating, this brief moment of power he was granted, and he nuzzles into his lovers neck as he keeps it up, pushing his own orgasm away. Always better to get your partner off first.

He wanted to feel Ben spill himself between them, wanted to drive him over the edge with the tender abuse, wanted to drain him of everything and in the moment, he rolls them over to put Ben on top. One hand slid up to his face, kissing him greedily as Raylan's hips push up as the other slides along his hip and grips, and when it broke, Raylan husks out "I wanna watch. I wanna watch you bring yourself to it."

The quick little flip and roll that put him sitting astride Raylan's hips made him groan, legs tight and trembling as he held himself still, fist tight on his cock even as his lips crush against his lover's. "God, Raylan," Ganymede breathed, rocking his hips down and up and grinding on Raylan's dick. He braced himself on one hand low on Raylan's belly, fingernails curling as his other hand tugged at his length. He was no stranger to touching himself, hand curled loose around his cock as he moved in a sinuous dance, pushing up and back and grinding down to make his toes curl and his muscles ripple and clench.

"I love the way you talk," he murmured, riding his lover and feeling the flush creep up his neck and chest the closer Ganymede gets to orgasm. He can feel the ache in his side from the gunshot, but it's not enough, not nearly enough to keep him from coming; it only adds to the dizzying height of sensation he's climbing up, pushing towards the delightful, intense peak. "I want you to come with me," he breathed, staring with dark eyes at Raylan's face as if to memorize the shape of his lover's mouth as he forms those words. "Come in me."

Edited 2024-09-03 18:45 (UTC)

He was consumed all over again, the sight of Ben on top of him always drives him wild. As it always had - Ben knew he was a beautiful man, they both did, and his orgasm was very nearly art.

Raylan's heavy panting was just as loud as his lovers and the sound of flesh slapping into flesh was as intoxicating as the rest. Ganymede would know by now how prone to supplication Raylan got when they were this far deep; he could ask the Marshal for the moon and he'd try, somehow, someway. So he bucks, spreading his knees a little to gain the leverage he needed to thrust himself upwards in a more meaningful manner. The lift and tilt of his chin for his efforts came with a dark heavy lidded expression that somehow asked all on its own 'You like that?'.

"Gonna make you feel nothin' but me for the rest of the night," he breaths promisingly.

The renewed vigor from Raylan spreading his knees and pushing up got a choked-out cry from Ganymede's throat as he curled up, trembling and tight all over; Raylan had impeccable aim in everything, they were both familiar with that, and it carried over to the bedroom as well. Ganymede shoved himself back as a fine sheen of sweat beaded out over his shoulders while they fucked, lost in the sounds echoing off the walls and the feeling of Raylan underneath him, between his thighs, hot and strong.

"Yes, yes, yes," he hisses, bucking into his hand and sucking in a breath as orgasm washed over him, almost surprising him as it swamped his senses. Ganymede fell into the weightless thrill that came with orgasm, feeling like he was cradled on clouds as his cock throbbed and his hips jerked. "Fuck, Raylan--please," Ganymede rasped out, eyes closed as he threw his head back. He couldn't quite fininsh what he was asking for, though his lover knew it very well already: don't stop, keep going, keep fucking him so blissfully.

Raylan sucks in a breath with that sound, with the feeling of the trembling flesh on and around him and the high of knowing that he's the one causing it, and pushes harder to follow after him. It was always his goal to get Ben, or any of his lovers over the years, off before he took his selfish pleasure but once getting what he wanted, he could go full, hard and hungry tilt.

His fingers dig into Ganymede's hips, pushing him down in time with his thrusts. The heavy pants turned into soft grunts before one big suck of breath as the building tightness in the low of his spine explodes into white hot orgasm, body arching up as he shudders and unloads. His cock twitches with it, throbbing as Raylan tries to catch his breath as the world fades back in from the edges.

His hands shift to slide up and around Ben, wrapping around him, staying inside him, holding him close. He knew too well that the rush of wanting to feel alive was often followed by the low of being exhausted from a day's abuse, and they'd both had a hellva day. He was happy to just lay for a minute, breathing and basking as his body thrums in afterglow.

If he'd ever been asked, Ganymede would have readily answered that the thing he loved hearing most was Raylan's voice panting and making those soft grunts that signalled all too clearly how close his lover was to orgasm. The rasp of heavy breathing and the way he shudders are intoxicating to witness, and Ganymede shuddered in his grasp as they both rode out the last aftershocks from the other that left them utterly spent. Or at least him utterly spent, and the melodic ache from his side was turning into a faintly maddening itch.

He slid gently and comfortably into Raylan's embrace, feeling no need to interrupt the moment with too many words when he nuzzled himself into place, fingertips brushing back the marshal's soft hair, feeling the short ends prickle at his nape. He just hummed and tucked himself in against his lover, tossing back the braid he hadn't bothered to undo yet and stretching the fraction of an inch to kiss Raylan. "You're amazing," he whispered softly.

This was one of Raylan's favorite things. The settled feeling of relaxed heavy limbs on and around him, a warm breath into his neck as his heartbeat drums in his ears. His cock has gone half soft, enough for him to slide out of Ben with a shift of his hips and meet that kiss with a deep, back of the throated hum of contentment.

"I think that distinct honor is yours," he husks, voice rough. The way he saw it, Ganymede was the hero for taking it and taking it as roughly as he did. "Survivin' the whole day and then also that-" His lips curl at the edges - he's teasing a little, always happy to inject levity. A hand comes up to brush back a loose hair from Ben's face, Raylan's eyes warm and openly loving looking over the man's sharp, handsome features.

"I'd tell you to stay outta trouble, but I got a feelin' that ain't gonna mean much especially since you're already here with me." The levity faulters a little, smile falling into something a little more somber.

"Terrible things woulda come, had this gone a different way you know."

"At least part of what I've survived today was better than most other things combined," Ganymede answered, closing one eye to let Raylan brush the stray hair from his face. His was extraordinarily long for anyone, but especially for a man, brushing his waist when it was left loose--that was rare, especially if he'd been at work, and he didn't particularly do well idle. "There's some trouble I'd rather be in myself than subject anyone else to."

He could take it: he'd taken an awful lot in his long life, not that anyone else knew that...but the idea still stood. He reached up slowly, gently tracing his fingertips over the edges of Raylan's lips, eyes dark and depthlessly quiet, but awake and alert.

"If things had gone a different way meaning if I had been shot somewhere else," he supplied. Somewhere fatal. The addendum hung in the air between them unspoken, though they both heard it, Ganymede knew. "I'm sturdier than I seem, Raylan. I promise."

"You said that before," he murmurs about the trouble Ben would rather take on himself. Raylan hadn't forgotten but no matter how many times it's told to him, that doesn't ease the deep seated worry and fear that something would happen to the man.

Of course, Ben was right about what Raylan meant, what he was driving at without saying the words and Raylan hums a note of acknowledgement.

"Sturdy don't stop a well aimed bullet, darlin', you know that. Luckier than you seem, now that I could take without blinkin' an eye. Lucky enough to have not caught that bullet in your heart or head."

Ganymede smiles gently at that, and...honestly he might have let it be, he could have let Raylan believe whatever he wanted about how sturdy Ganymede was. But there was something there that gave him the smallest glimmer of hope that he might understand. That this man, who likely had very little grasp on Homeric hymns and epic poetry and mythologies from half a world away and several dozen lifetimes ago, wouldn't think he was insane for what was going to happen.

If, of course, he told him.

"Do you trust me, Raylan?" he asked quietly, not accusatory in the slightest. It was an honest question. "Enough to tell you something I...really don't tell anyone else?" He'd done this before, had this exact conversation with an incredibly wide variance in outcome, but each time was new, and worrying, and each time gave him that faintly gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. "I don't want you to think I'm crazy."

Raylan shifts, rolling them a little so they're both mostly on their side with Ben's weight leaned into him so they could be a little more comfortable. He frown oh so softly, a mere tightening between his brow, a faint downturn of his lips as he glances over Ben's features.

"'Course I trust you. I don't think you got into this situation on purpose-"

He had no way of understanding what Ben was driving at though and a clever brain always tries to project out and be ready.

"No, no, nothing like that," Ganymede chuckles, shaking his head as he rolls with Raylan to settle down, chin perched on his lover's shoulder. "I just...want you to understand why it seems like I'm not worried about being shot." Partly, he'll admit, it's because he's truly not worried, but the reason for that is something concrete.

He rubbed the pad of his thumb gently over the faintest of creases between Raylan's brows, smoothing the skin as if it would soothe the concern as well. "It's very hard to seriously injure me. And that's not bravado speaking when I say that, it's...experience. I'm much older than I look."

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