Chapter Text
It had been a miserable, cold few days leading up to their fortuitous discovery of this sweet, tiny cabin, nestled between a couple of bare trees, with a small attached barn. It was practically a miracle, with how high in the windy, snowy mountains they were.
"Arthur, shut that door! We’re both gonna freeze to death if you keep gawking like that," came Dutch's chattering, cracked voice from said cabin.
Arthur- who had indeed been gawking at the stormy weather they had just escaped thanks to their lucky cabin- reluctantly shut the door and turned towards his mentor and only companion these past few months.
Dutch wason the bed huddled in his ubiquitously large, bear-skinned longcoat. He had removed his boots, and tucked his socked toes under the blankets on top of the single bed placed in the corner of their tiny cabin. His breath was visible with every puff, and his cheeks and nose were red. He was still as handsome as ever, just very clearly cold.
Arthur had been ruminating on these thoughts recently,on how striking Dutch is. It had been hard to avoid, since hosea had bowed out of the outlaw life to try and live decently with sweet bessie, in that cute farmhouse he managed to con himself into the ownership of. That had been four months ago, hosea sticking around until arthur’s 20th birthday before breaking the news to them and shortly thereafter taking off. In his absence arthur tried not to feel abandoned. He loved hosea, and he loved bessie. They deserved a normal life together.
Still, it stung that they had to leave him and dutch to find it.
arthur reckoned that dutch also struggled with this abandonment, though he tried to hide it. Since he had known them, even arthur in all of this profound ignorance, could tell that dutch adored, admired, and depended on hosea. Beyond that, he loved him. There was something unspeakable and seemingly instinctual that hosea could provide for dutch, something bone-deep and steady as bedrock.
It was something that arthur could not quite comprehend, let alone manage to fill the gap of hosea’s absence.
That being said, the undeniable knowledge that arthur would never be able to live up to hosea’s guidance and brilliance and love in dutch’s eyes would not stop him from trying. He wasn’t surprised, afterall.
He knew that even though there was a place in dutch’s heart, carved out specifically for hosea and all his sharp edges, there was also an equally customized spot carved out for arthur. The spot that had prompted dutch to extend his hand to the bruised and dirty boy who had just tried to rob and stab him, offering him food, a bath, and companionship.
It had been six years since arthur cautiously allowed himself to hope - just one more time after a life of disappointment - and take that extended hand, in spite of the usual trouble hope had always brought him leading up to meeting dutch and hosea.
All that considered, he shut the damn door to keep dutch and himself warm. He also made sure to light the tinder in the small wood-burning oven, trying to siphon any additional heat he could before slipping his boots off to scuttle under the sheets and pressed tightly to his anchor.
Dutch shot him a roguishly grateful grin, teeth chattering as he wrapped one of his arms around arthur’s shuddering shoulders. Arthur felt himself flush, as he often did when made the subject of dutch’s direct time and affection. Their shared body heat warmed up arthur’s chilled body and fragile heart, as well as the beginnings of an ignored simmering heat low in his belly.
He was so grateful to hosea for eventually opening his heart to arthur, and for eventually loving him, but it was dutch who bridged that gap. It was dutch who looked at arthurs dirty, bloody face and decided that there was someone worth saving under all that shadow and mud. It was dutch who saved him, who cleaned and wrapped his wounds that first night, and it dutch who reminded him what it was to have someone watching his back and looking out for his best interest, and most surprisingly of all, someone invested in his growth, who might actually mourn his rotting corpse once finally freed from this mortal plane.
His daddy always said that arthur was a mistake worth forgetting. Dutch has tried his best to prove that wrong.
“Arthur?” came dutch’s voice, the hot air of his breath puffing against arthurs exposed neck, goosebumps spreading down his chest and over his shoulders, fueling that still ignored fire in his belly.
“Sorry dutch, just thinking,” he looked at dutch out of the corner of his eye, shooting his companion a chattering grin. “You sayin’ something?”
Dutch responded in kind, cheekbones defined and red from the cold, “Just inquiring if you were warm enough? That fire you’ve got going should help some, but I’m worried we might have found ourselves in the middle of one hellova winter storm. Just our luck, huh?”
Arthur huffed out a chuckle, nodding his head in agreement as he wormed one arm behind dutchs back and the other over his belly, turning his body just so, trying to absorb even more of that reliable warmth. Trying to prolong this closeness that arthur had been realizing he might crave. Might have been craving for a long time. Maybe even since the death of his beloved mother.
This felt different from that though, somehow, in some way that arthur was too afraid to contemplate just yet.
“Well, I’m alright for now but it’s just gonna get colder when the sun finally sets. Think that stove will be enough to keep us alive and well?” Arthur turned his gaze from the stove to their various packs of provisions and whatever other creature comforts that were precious enough to lug around. They had two extra blankets, some cans of food, crackers, dried meat and most importantly, a couple bottles of fine whiskey.
As soon as arthur remembered they had some libation, he reluctantly shimmied away from dutch to stretch over his body to reach their packs, hanging over the side of the bed and resting heavily on dutch’s legs to dig through them.
“What’re you up to?” dutch asked, though he did not bother to move much more to investigate other than placing a steadying hand on arthur’s lower back.
“We got blankets and whiskey. It don’t look like the storm is gonna let up anytime tonight and if it lasts too much longer than that we may have to venture out there to see if we can snag ourselves a rabbit, but until then we got enough provisions to survive.” Arthur looked over his shoulder to throw dutch an irreverent wink as he wiggled the whiskey in dutch’s direction, earning a deep laugh in response from dutch.
With that, arthur began to shimmy back on the bed with his armful of extra blankets and whiskey. dutch clutched the back of his coat to try to help and steady him as he dragged their bounty on the bed.
“Arthur my boy, you are a man amongst men,” dutch said as he pulled one of the blankets loose from arthur’s arms with one hand, and reached for the bottle of whiskey they would share with the other.
Arthur quietly chuckled to himself as he crawled back into his previous cozy spot, tucked up against and around dutch, their legs loosely tangled together. With a little jostling the two of them finally settled to sit up against the wall with the pile of blankets covering their lower half while they languidly passed the bottle of whiskey back and forth, drinking straight from the bottle.
Dutch slung one of his arms over arthurs shoulders again, while arthur repositioned his arms around dutch’s back and across his belly, back to his original position.
Together they watched the sun set through the window, managing to light one of their lanterns, which gave off a soothing low orange glow. Despite the biting cold and the seemingly endless darkness just outside the window, arthur felt cozy and sleepy, enjoying the closeness and warmth of their bodies pressed together, and the soothing burning in his chest and belly courtesy of that damn fine whiskey.
Since hosea had left with bessie, dutch had been quiet and more-so Arthur could tell that he was trying to stay strong and stoic - unaffected - and maybe that mask would have held up with someone else, but arthur has made a hobby these six years out of studying dutch. He was a confusing and challenging man to understand, prone to unpredictable mood swings and outbursts. One moment the man was vivid, enthusiastic and so awake and alive, the next withdrawn, melancholy, suspicious and weary.
Arthur didn’t necessarily mind these shifts, but he desperately wanted dutch to be happy, specifically happy with him, and ever since hosea left that approving warmth had been harder and harder to achieve.
He’s not sure dutch noticed this dimming himself.
Lost in thought, arthur didn’t register when dutch moved the arm behind him to soothingly run his hand up and down arthur’s torso, side and hip. And every once in a while dutch would stroke his belly, sending a startling shock through arthur’s veins, all the way to his toes, which he couldn’t help but curl.
Over the course of the evening, over the course of sharing more than half a bottle of whiskey, arthur had sunk lower into the bed - lower onto dutch- resting his drunk, weary head on the older man’s broad shoulder and soft neck, right where the two met. Dutch didn’t seem to mind, or at the very least he didn’t mention the shifting positions, just continued to run his hand up and down arthur’s side and belly, every so often giving his hip a squeeze. A gentle, mindless massage.
“That feels nice dutch..” arthur mumbled, a little too drunk and a little too comfortable, his head hot and empty, buzzing with contact and comfort comfort comfort. He felt dutch give a huff of strangely satisfied laughter, his chest and belly shifting.
“Yeah it does, don’t it? You sure do look content, son,” he paused, humor still evident in his voice “I think perhaps we’ve had enough for tonight, though. Why don’t we lay down, tuck in? It’s been a long day, and I don’t know about you, but I’m tuckered,” as he made this suggestion, dutch shimmied down the bed until he could lay his head on one of the pillows, arthur still clutched to his shoulder; shimmying down along with him to the best of his impaired abilities.
Though he was trying to maintain a sense of dignity and authority, the whiskey had gone to dutch’s head and heart as well. The feeling of arthur pressed up against his side, full plush lips tucked against his neck, their skin just barely touching, it was almost too much to bear. He was determined to absorb this moment, commit it to memory and move on. He would not betray the trust he had built with arthur.
On the other hand, Arthur was floating somewhere between sleep and cozy-warm intoxication, his body pressed tightly to dutch’s side, head still tucked into his dear mentor’s neck. Now that they were horizontal though, arthur felt a wave of dizziness sweep through his body, feeling uncomfortably tingly from behind his eyes, the back of his head and all the way down to his socked toes. He cringed, and clenched his eyes tightly shut, squeezing his arms tighter around dutch. He swung his leg over and between dutch’s under the blanket, and pressed his forehead more securely into dutch’s pulsing neck, emitting a quiet moan of discomfort.
“You okay, arthur?” dutch said, raising slightly up on his side, propping himself and arthur up trying to get a good look at his boy.
“Mmhm, yeah just got a little dizzy for a sec, still tryin to control my liquor, sorry dutch. I won’t get sick on ya this time,” he said with a self-deprecating chuckle. He would not get sick, “ but..i might do well with a drink of water if you can reach it,” he mumbled.
Dutch chuckled as well, and reached over the side of the bed to grab his waterskin, holding it to arthurs lips. “Take a drink arthur, and get some rest. I reckon we’ll be here all tomorrow at the very least with the way this snow is been fallin’,” he said, glancing back out the darkened window.
Arthur allowed himself a couple gulps of cool water, before collapsing back on dutch’s chest and neck, tugging his body closer to the natural warmth of his friend.
Dutch dropped his waterskin back on the ground and lowered himself down, after holding their trusty lantern to his face before blowing the candle out and placing it back on the bedside table, covering them both into the darkness of the cabin save for the moonlight shining through the windows.
He listened to arthur’s heavy breathing start to slow down and even out, his boy somehow managing to tuck himself impossibly closer, their legs tangled comfortably together. Hosea wasn’t here, and that was painful, but this closeness was the physical reminder dutch needed to know that he was truly not alone. A physical manifestation of the love he was the recipient of. His mother may not have cared much for him, and hosea eventually left just like dutch feared he would, but arthur was here.
“I’m glad you’re with me, son,” he mumbled quietly, stroking his hand up and down arthur’s spine, rubbing circles at the base. He felt his eyes close, and tightened his hold on his companion, grasping and gently kneading his hip.
Arthur was barely awake, but he heard dutch’s confession and couldn’t help but smile into his neck sleepily. Mind addled with exhaustion and whiskey, he unthinkingly pressed a light, delicate kiss right to his pulse point. Just a gentle press of his lips, and a nuzzle of his forehead.
“Me too..” was the last thing he remembered saying, before drifting off to a cozy, comfortable sleep.
Dutch, though so close to sleep before, was suddenly wide awake at the gentle pressure of those lips to his neck. He felt a buzzing warmth rush down his chest and navel, down to his groin where he filled with a heat of a different kind.
Despite his closed eyes, it was hours before dutch finally found sleep. Though restful, it was not.
-----
When arthur woke nearly eight blissful hours later, he was still pressed tight against dutch, head tucked under his neck, and legs woven together.
He could tell from the slow, rhythmic movement of dutch’s chest that he was still lost to sleep, though his grip on arthur was as tight and secure as it was the night before.
Although arthur genuinely wanted to bask in this comfortable bliss, his bladder was rather alarmingly full and needed immediate attending to. He reluctantly pulled himself from dutch’s sleepy embrace, and stumbled off of the bed and out the cabin door. He had to force the door open, as a fair couple of inches of snow fell while they slumbered.
After relieving himself and washing his hands with some snow, he checked on the horses and brushed them out, fed them whatever he could and tried to make sure they were as comfortable as possible. Luckily there was a small barn near the little cabin he and dutch were squatting in, so the horses had some protection against the elements.
After spending a couple of minutes tending to the horses, chatting with them and pampering them as much as he could with some good rubs and brushes, he heads back inside to find dutch awake and sitting on the end of the bed, scribbling in his journal.
“All good?” dutch asked, not looking up from what he was writing.
“Yeah, horses are fine. A little hungry, but they should be okay if we don’t linger longer than we gotta,” he said, fishing some crackers out of his bag and flopping down on the bed.
“How’s the weather out there?”
“We got a couple of inches of snow during the night, and my balls are still freezing, but the sun is out,” arthur said, turning his head to observe dutch, who had also turned to look at arthur. “What’s the plan, dutch?”
“The plan is that we stay here today, just to be sure this storm has passed. We may have to camp on the way down and we ain’t doing that in the middle of a squall. We got enough food and water to last us a couple of days, if just that, but once we’re down from here we’ll stop at a town and buy us a fine meal and some warm beds.”
Arthur nodded, his trust in dutch fully secure, and went back to munching on his crackers. Like so many things in his new life, he took note from dutch and leaned over the bed to grab his own journal. He didn’t have much to say, but he had seen a beautiful snowy-white rabbit while pissing, so he spent some time drawing that memory.
There were many things that arthur appreciated about dutch, the silence they could sit in together, comfortable and solid was among many. It was supportive, somehow. His daddy had not taken kindly to him “running his mouth,” but to arthur’s recollection his father just didn’t like seein’ his face or hearin’ his voice or being around him in general. He couldn’t count how many times he’d gotten a whuppin just for speaking up about being hungry. That scars a person, and even though hosea and dutch encouraged arthur to speak his heart and his mind, he still found himself most comfortable in silence.
He used to think that all dutch had was mouth, but as the years ran on and he got to know the man, he learned that dutch was also comfortable in the silence between his grand speeches. Sometimes what dutch needed was just silence and presence. Hosea used to act as that presence, arthur observed. He noticed the gentle but firm hands hosea would lay on dutch’s lower back and shoulders, once or twice on his hip. Hosea had caught him looking once, and later told him in hushed tones that dutch sometimes just got overwhelmed, and needed some grounding.
Arthur wasn’t quite sure what hosea meant exactly at the moment, but the longer it had just been the two of them, the more he understood. Dutch often seemed confident and sure of himself, head held high and chest puffed out, but every once in a while he had a look in his eye, or maybe it was in the shake of his voice...just the notion that something was wounding him from somewhere dark and deep.
It was rare that arthur could detect the source of the wound, but that didn’t surprise him. His daddy always told him that he was a shitbrained weakling, and in all his twenty years arthur has not found any evidence to the contrary.
“You alright there, son?” dutch said, bringing arthur back to the present. He had been so lost in thought he didn’t notice when dutch finally lifted his head to look at him.
“Yeah, sorry dutch. Was just lost in my head..you know how it goes,” arthur said, shaking his head to refocus and clear his vision, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. He made himself look away from dutch’s concerned face, back to his nearly complete drawing. Something to shift his attention to.
There was another beat of silence before arthur felt the bed dip as dutch shifted closer to him, dipping his head to try and catch arthur’s eyes.
Arthur swallowed hard, feeling something other than the bed shift; more like… a feeling in the air. He adored dutch, trusted him implicitly, but there was something about being the center of his focus that threw arthur off center; made him feel something confusing and intangible.
“You know you can always talk to me, right?” he said with a dip of his head, still trying to catch arthur’s eyes.
“You know, I was thankin’ you last night for being here with me, but we’re here together. Me and you, arthur,” dutch cocked his head to the side, face open and sincere, brows furrowed with a slight frown gracing his face.
Arthur cleared his throat, “...Sure, I know dutch. Sorry,” he looked down at the sweet rabbit he’d been drawing,shut the journal, and looked back up into dutch’s soft brown eyes. “I guess...I guess I’ve just been tryin’ to figure out where we all fit together, now that hosea’s gone. All i known is the years i spent with my daddy, the years i spent on the street, and the sweeter years spent with you two.”
As he spoke, he noticed a slight change in dutch’s demeanor, the softness in his eyes hardening just slightly, his frown evolving into a grimace. Arthur watched him swallow hard, his adam's apple bobbing. A look of what arthur determined to be deep consideration graced his friends' statuesque features. Though he could not possibly imagine what, he knew dutch was mulling something over.
He was proven correct when he felt dutch grab the top of his hand tightly, and turned arthur’s hand over so that they could lace their chilled fingers together. Arthur couldn’t help but stare at their fingers, clasped together. The sight made his stomach turn, not unpleasantly.
“I understand how you feel, friend, but listen to me,” he paused, until arthur tore his eyes away from their intertwined fingers up to his eyes, “have faith that I will never leave you. We have something-something special. You, me... and even hosea, too. Now I know he’s off playing house with dear bessie, but that don’t mean we don’t have something to hold. And just because hosea’s gone -for now- don’t mean you and me don’t got something to cherish. You and me.”
Dutch paused. He seemed to be considering his next words, mulling them over. He turned his body, bringing his leg up onto their shared bed, angling his body to face arthur. After a brief moment of consideration, he placed his other hand on top of their clasped ones and squeezed.
“I have you, arthur. Never doubt that,” and with that, he removed his hands completely and went back to writing in his journal, as if nothing had happened. As if arthur’s whole world hadn’t shifted -just slightly-, the light of the afternoon drained from his vision as he singled in on dutch’s handsome profile. He felt goosebumps break out all over his body, traveling down his neck, chest...down his stomach to his groin, past his knees and to the tips of his toes. He couldn’t help the shiver that chased down his spine shortly after.
He had to swallow multiple times before just squeaking out, “...of course, dutch. I could never doubt you.”
His loyalty was rewarded by the shining grin dutch shot him. He didn’t want to think about the butterflies that ruled his stomach for long minutes afterwards.
--------
The rest of their day passed, completely uneventful. They took turns tending to the horses, and by the time the sun had finally set arthur felt certain that they’d be able to safely leave the next day. He silently felt like they probably could have been on their way today, but trusted dutch’s instinct to stay put. He also couldn’t deny that he had enjoyed the extension of their close solitude.
After their conversation that afternoon, they mostly tended to themselves in silence. Between their treks outside to tend to the horses, stretch their legs and relieve themselves, arthur sketched in his journal and dutch read.
Dutch also paced, back and forth- back and forth- back and forth. His mind seemed fervent with some thought, but he did not deign to tell arthur what that might be, so arthur did his best to ignore the loudness of dutch’s thinking, jumbled and uncertain though they seemed to be.
As night began to fall, dutch dug through their bags to pull out some dried meats, more whiskey, cheese to accompany their crackers, and finally some canned peaches for dessert. They enjoyed their meal in relative silence, arthur still contemplating their conversation earlier and dutch still lost in thoughts of his own.
As the night darkened they continued to share the whiskey after finishing their meal, warming their chilled bodies and their spirits once again. They played a couple rounds of cards, the silence finally breaking as they chatted about some philosophical nonsense that they were a bit too drunk to really make any sense of, eventually sprawled out together on the narrow bed with their shoulders and knees pressed together, legs hanging off the side. Their cards had been pushed off the bed just moments before, giggling too much to care about the game.
Arthur felt so full of warmth, not just where their bodies were pressed together, but in his heart and stomach as well..a furnace truly broiling. He tried to ignore the sensation even though he had turned his head to gaze at dutch minutes ago, eyes not leaving dutch’s rapidly moving mouth and slightly sweaty neck. When arthur could, he caught dutch’s chocolate brown eyes with his own blue ones, squirming a little.
He hadn’t realized just how intensely he’d been staring until dutch turned his head to look right back into arthur’s eyes, finally actually shutting up for once in his fuckin’ life, though arthur would never voice that particular sentiment outloud. The reality was, he liked dutch’s voice far too much to even consider trying to silence it...but sometimes, he wouldn’t mind just the quiet of his company.
Which, his drunk mind was finally processing, he had right then. While arthur had been lost in thought, dutch had turned not only his head, but his whole body to face him. He lay comfortably on his side, his knee pushing harder against arthurs thigh. The hand he wasn’t resting on lay gently on arthur’s beating chest, mindlessly picking at the fabric of his shirt.
Whatever arthur was thinking of saying burnt to ash one his tongue, long forgotten; all thought shut down in his busy head but his body felt electrified. He felt the hairs on his arm and the back of his neck stand at attention, just like his twitching groin. He was a bit too drunk to feel any real sense of shame, he just wanted dutch’s hands on him and an image of rough hands gripping his bare hips flashed before his eyes.
“I’m...I know I said it earlier son, but I’m real happy you’re here with me..that we’re here together,” came dutch’s voice unexpectedly, his hot breath brushing against arthur’s jaw and neck. The bed shifted as dutch moved, holding himself up on this elbow and hovering just slightly over arthur. The hand that had been resting gently on arthur’s chest pressed down a bit firmer, and moved up to cradle arthur’s neck and shoulder, lightly stroking a thumb up and down his throat.
Arthur shot his hand up to grasp dutch’s, and had to shift his hips and the gentle stroking of dutch’s thumb and at the feeling of his hot breath huffing against the side of his face. Arthur spread his thighs slightly, feeling his pants tighten just a bit.
Arthur swallowed hard, his heart beating hard against his chest; so hard that he feared dutch could actually hear it.
“Hah..dutch?” was all he could manage, now panting slightly, vision blurred just around the edges even as he grasped dutch’s forearm that was now resting on his chest.
“Yes, arthur?” was the whispered response, dutch’s lips moving closer to arthur’s than before, and despite the voice of warning in his head that, somewhat ironically, sounded like hosea, arthur found he could not help himself and used his other thand that was laying immobile at his side to reach up and tangle in dutch’s dark hair, bringing those fucking lips down onto his in a desperate kiss.
For just a moment after their lips met, dutch was eerily still and arthur feared that he had greatly miscalculated, that he had acted rashly. He feared that dutch would grab him by his hair to slam him to the ground and put a bullet through his skull. He was just about to push away and beg for forgiveness when he felt the vibration of dutch’s moan as he melted into the kiss, swinging his leg over arthur’s hips to straddle his waist, though he did not allow their lower bodies to meet.
He framed arthur’s head with his elbows, deepened their kiss, opening his mouth to arthur’s timid exploration, and rather enthusiastically exploring arthur’s mouth in return.
The silence in the small room was broken by the sound of wet kisses, panting breaths and gentle moans.
Dutch then lowered his chest to press against arthur, and brought his face back just enough to nibble on arthur’s lower lip, sucking on it lightly before forcing arthur’s head back with a hand tangled in his downy hair, moving down and nibble his chin, up his jawline and to his earlobe, where he started suckling gently.
Arthur couldn’t help throwing his head back and closing his eyes at the unusual but ultimately erotic sensation, rolling his hips up into nothing but the heat rolling off dutch’s body as his cock continued to harden. He desperately wanted some pressure to rub against, some relief. Relief that dutch was not openingly granting arthur, on his knees with his hips still lifted.
Finally coming to some of his senses and realizing he actually had control over his limbs, arthur’s brain connected to his hands and shot up to grasp onto dutch’s hovering, teasing hips, forcefully pulling him down to sit straddled snuggly on Arthur's lap. The relief of their bodies meeting, their hard cocks finally pressed against each other -even though a layer of clothes- was enough to punch the air out of both their lungs, their lips parting to pant into each other’s open mouth, between heated kisses and sharp nibbles.
For a while they stayed like that, bodies glued together, hips grinding just enough for some relief, though nothing committed enough to push them over the edge.
Dutch kept his elbows where they were, boxing arthur’s head between them. Arthur on the other hand allowed his hands to roam from dutch’s hips and around to his ass, squeezing it and trying to get dutch to roll his hips against him.
“Dutch please, come’on,” arthur begged, knowing he sounded pathetic but he’d never been so warm before, never been so hard. He continued to roll his hips up into dutch, tossing his head back and closing his eyes, chest heaving.
“Ah, fuck dutch..oh, I never thought…” he trailed off, biting his lower lip and closing his eyes, trying to absorb as much of the sensation as he could, getting lost if the teasing sensation of their bodies colliding.
“Oh, oh arthur...i...i-i think maybe we should- i think maybe we-” whatever dutch was going to say next was lost to the dizzying sensation of being flipped, dutch now on his back, arthur pressed tight between his spread thighs.
Dutch liked to think of himself as a man who liked to be in control, but despite that he couldn’t help the arching of his back, couldn’t help how his mouth dropped open in some wordless moan, eyes rolling back into his head while arthur continued to roll his hips, rubbing their hard, leaking cocks together. Dutch could feel himself dripping in his trousers, making an unholy mess but he couldn’t be bothered to give a damn, so turned on by his boy's strength and passion that he had no control over the low whimpers leaving his throat.
Arthur dropped his forehead to dutch’s neck, his turn to nibble and suck at the exposed skin of dutch’s collar bone and moaning, the rolling of his hips never slowing.
“Ah..dutch..you was sayin’ something, hm?” he couldn’t help but tease, looking down at dutch’s flushed, panting face and half-lidded, rolled back eyes, feeling dutch’s hips lifting to meet his own, seemingly unconsciously.
“Oh shut up arthur,” dutch finally managed to pant back, bringing his hands between their bodies to frantically undo his own heavy over- coat, then arthurs. “Fuck, sit up for a second,” he said, pushing slightly on arthur’s shoulders.
Despite the undeniable rush of power and control he felt hovering over dutch, watching him squirm and moan knowing that it was him that was making it happen, arthur did as he was told. He then continued to do as he was told enthusiastically when he saw that dutch was actively trying to remove more layers, trying to get their skin pressed together as much as they could risk in the current cold, though they had shut the windows to their small refuge before eating their meager meal earlier.
Once their coats and belts were thrown to the floor, shoes pushed off, pants undone and shirts mostly unbuttoned, they were back at each others’ mouths. Their chests pressed together again, dutch’s surprisingly slim and strong legs wrapped around arthur’s rolling hips.
“Oh oh, arthur..arthur, please hold up oh,” dutch moaned, unwrapping his legs from around arthur’s waist and pushing his hips back down on the bed to try and give his aching cock some space from arthur as he felt his climax approaching more rapidly then he wanted. Their bodies felt so good together, so perfect. It had been so long since dutch felt such synchronicity and sense of belonging with a partner. Not since hosea…
But that didn’t matter anymore, what mattered was that dutch wanted this to last. He wanted to prolong the pleasure, yes, but more importantly he wanted to prolong this sense of connection.
He loved arthur, saving arthur was the best decision he ever made and if this is what arthur wanted dutch wasn’t going to complain. He had been looking at the younger man for a few months now, hosea and he had fought about it quietly but dutch would never have made a move on his own. Not really, not in any significant way, but now that he knew just how badly arthur ached for him dutch couldn’t help but consider the advantages.
And sweet arthur, dear sweet arthur heard dutch and reluctantly moved his hips away from the man under him, though he was so so close himself, so desperate to finish pressed tight against dutch.
“ Something‘ wrong?” he asked, swallowing hard.
“Nothin’ wrong, this was just gonna end quicker then i wanted,” he paused to lick his lips, “I wanna try something, mind getting off?” dutch continued, reaching an arm around arthur to run down his back and give his firm ass a playful swat. “Lay down against the pillows while you’re at it,” he said, pleased that arthur had started to comply with very little convincing.
They flipped, still facing each other but now with arthur on his back, and dutch hovering over. Dutch swallowed, and couldn't help but note the surprisingly nervous look on his boy's handsome face. It was strange to dutch, how arthur could be so confident one moment, so in control and strong, yet so obviously craving being controlled the next moment. He ignored the quiet voice in his head telling him to look in a mirror.
dutch instead shot his boy a warm smile and leaned over him to plant a delicate, closed mouth kiss on arthur’s bottom lip. He then ran his hands up and down arthur’s quivering thighs a couple of times, before giving them a pat, wordlessly asking him to spread them.
Arthur did, of course. Enthusiastically dutch noted the small upward thrust of arthur’s hips as he did so.
Dutch licked his lips and leaned forward to brush another soft kiss against arthurs’ parted lips, this time using his tongue to trace the others lower lip. He began to lay gentle, light kisses up arthur’s jaw and down his neck. He returned arthur’s favor from earlier and nibbled at his defined collarbones. He couldn’t resist sucking gently on the protruding bone, happy to note the dark bruise left in his wake.
Instead of lingering on that too long, knowing that he could get lost in arthur’s beautiful pulsing neck, he started kissing and softly biting down arthur’s panting chest.
He placed some gentle kisses down the center of arthur’s chest, spreading his shirt further to expose his peaked, pink nipples. Dutch couldn’t help chuckling quietly at the sight, thinking it quite a debauched sight, but lovely nonetheless.
He glanced back up into arthur’s wet, half-lidded eyes, shooting him a grin and leaning over to plant another gentle kiss on his boys parted lips. “You okay, arthur?.. We can stop whenever you want,” he whispered, their lips still brushing together.
Arthur swallowed hard, releasing a long breath he hadn’t really realized he’d been holding. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around dutch’s shoulders, pulling his dearest companion to lay fully on top of him, enjoying the feeling of dutch tucking his heated forehead into his neck...the pressure of dutch’s weight felt so good, so centering. He felt his nerves settle, sighing deeply again.
“It’s all, uh..a little overwhelmin’, you know?.. Feels kinda sudden, i guess. I don’t, well, I don’t think I could handle being one of your flings dutch,” he dared to rear his head back, trying to look into dutch’s deep brown eyes.
“These feelin’s ain’t sudden to me, arthur. I promise you that. You ain’t no damn fling . You’re special to me...always have been,” dutch whispered, starting to kiss away from arthur’s lips, back down his jaw, his neck and back to his collarbone. He kissed gently over the spot he knew would turn into a blooming bruise soon enough.
“This okay, arthur?” he whispered between descending kisses, soft and wet, leaving sucking bruises in his lips’ wake, arriving at arthur’s hard, perked nipples. He hovered his mouth over the sensitive tip of one, glancing up at arthur.
Arthur couldn’t prevent the small, cut off whimpers that escaped his throat. He spread his thighs further, giving dutch even more room to rest his heavier, solid body. He tried not to buck his hips too wildly when he felt dutch lower his body, mirroring their previous position and wrapping his legs around dutch’s sides.
“Sure dutch,” he managed to squeak out, panting starting up again when he felt the other man start to kiss and bite and suck at his sensitive chest, with intention. Arthur felt anticipation shooting through his veins, waiting for dutch to do something else. To make a damn move. As far as arthur was concerned, his chest was the least important part of his anatomy at the moment.
Just as he was about to voice that opinion, dutch took the tip of arthur’s nipple into his mouth and bit down, rolling it with his tongue, alternating between sucking at just the tip and increasingly harder nibbles. Dutch felt gratified when arthur pushed his chest harder into mouth and moaned, his hand worming its way into dutch’s curled locks.
“Oh fuck, dutch,” was all arthur could get out before descending into breathless whimpers. He wrapped his legs tighter around dutch’s hips and tugged on his ink-black hair. This wasn’t his first time rollin’ in the sack, but something about dutch made everything feel intense and electrified, like his skin had never been touched before. He could lose himself in the sensation, and might have if he hadn’t felt the rumble of dutch’s chest against his abdomen.
“That feel good?” dutch asked, pulling back slightly to look down into arthur’s glassy eyes, noting his boys heaving chest and flushed face, mouth hanging open. Though he tried to resist, dutch couldn’t help the self-satisfied smile that spread across his features. “Arthur?” he repeated.
The man in question shook his head a bit, willing himself back from the edge that dutch nearly pushed him over with just his mouth on arthur’s nipples, cock untouched except for their bodies pressed together, “Uh, what was that?”
“Hah-ah, I asked if that felt good?” dutch purred, not waiting for an answer as he left arthur’s nipples, though not without using his hand to give the untouched one a playful pinch with his fingers, chuckling when he heard arthur yelp.
This had been fun, but dutch could feel arthur’s cock straining against his abdomen and was dying to take his boy down his throat, so much so that he couldn’t help but thrust his own hard cock against the bed below him. Never had he been more thankful for his relative lack of a gag-reflex; he was about to blow arthur’s fuckin’ mind.
Dutch lifted his body up just enough to unbutton arthur’s jeans and tug them down, letting out a huff of laughter when arthur’s ruddy cock sprang forward, tapping him slightly on his lower lip.
“You excited, boy? What, never had your dick sucked before?” dutch asked, using one of his hands to gently grasp the base of arthur’s twitching, leaking cock, using his thumb and pointer to stroke the base.
Arthur gritted his teeth, pushing his head down against the pillow and pushing up on his heels to try and get some real friction from the fingers wrapped around his base. “C’mon dutch…” he whimpered, brain feeling disconnected from his body.
“I asked you a question, arthur,” was the response he got, hot breath ghosting over the head of his cock. He could nearly feel dutch’s lips brush against his slit with every teasing word.
“God, fuck..dutch, of-of course I have, please just…” arthur moaned, unable to control the squirming of his body, the rolling of his hips. He was so close, again, and dutch had barely touched his cock.
“Of course you have, darlin’,” was the last thing out of dutch’s mouth before he delicately wrapped his lips around the head of arthur’s cock, wicked tongue swirling around the glan before flicking across the leaking slit.
“Oh oh, dutch, fuck oh,” arthur couldn’t stop from spilling out of his mouth, as he reached down to once again dig his fingers into dutch’s thick, black hair, curling but not pulling, thighs quivering around the other man’s broad shoulders, trying to hard not to thrust up, trying so hard to be good.
Dutch smiled the best he could with his lips wrapped around arthur’s dick, privately thinking to himself that this wouldn’t last much longer if that’s how arthur reacted with a pair of lips barely around his tip. Deciding not to prolong this much longer, eager to show some of his skill, dutch reared his head back to remove his lips from arthur’s cock, swooping his body forward to capture arthurs’ panting lips in a heated kiss, his tongue licking into the other’s mouth. Before arthur could reciprocate much, dutch ended the kiss and crawled his way back down arthur’s flushed and quivering body.
Without another word, dutch tightened his grip around the base of arthur’s cock before leaning down to take his boy to the base, only removing his fingers so that his lips could brush against the soft tufts of arthurs pubic hair, throat swallowing around the head of arthur’s cock.
Dutch couldn’t help the muffled moan that vibrated in his throat, rolling his hips against the mattress beneath him, bringing his hand to grasp arthur’s stuttering hips. He swallowed around the head of arthur’s cock again, tightening his lips to suck around the base of arthur’s cock as he lifted his head back up, sucking at the tip and glancing up at arthur, before bobbing his head back down to take arthur into his throat once again.
Arthur had indeed had his cocked sucked before, but never quite like this, with so much..enthusiasm. As he slung his arms across his closed eyes, moaning and panting hard, he couldn’t help but wonder where dutch had learned to do this, and against his will an image of hosea flashed across his mind. Before he could contemplate that too greatly, he was once again overcome by the tingly pleasure of dutch’s tight, wet throat swallowing around his cock.
With the hand not flung across his eyes, arthur tangled his fingers into dutch’s hair and thrust his upward, unable to contain the “Oh oh oh, oh my god dutch please, please please-” spilling from his panting mouth, his stomach tensing and releasing, thighs quivering and tensing, toes curling.
“So close, so close please don’t stop, please,” arthur continued to spill, his balls tightening close to his body, release so so close.
Dutch couldn’t help but feel smug, listening to arthur lose his mind with just his mouth. It was not like he couldn’t relate, continuing to rub his aching, clothed cock against the bed, thrusting in rhythm with his swallows around arthur’s pulsing cock, breathing heavily through his nose completely oblivious to the tears streaming down his cheeks.
Just as dutch was about to pull off for a gasp of air, arthur’s other hand flung down from across his eyes to bury his other hand in dutch’s hair, using his heels to thrust his hips up and spill down dutch’s throat.
“Oh dutch, oh fuck fuck, oh my god…” arthur whimpered, turning to nuzzle his head into the pillow it was resting upon, hips still thrusting and rolling unconsciously. He felt hot fire rush through his nerves, coming harder than he ever had in his life.
Dutch, though taken a bit off guard, continued to swallow around arthur’s spilling cock, taking his seed down into his burning belly. As he massaged the last bit of Arthur’s seed from his cock, he brought his hands to rub soothingly up and down arthur’s sides and hips as he felt arthur continue to weakly thrust his hips with each pulse, whimpers spilling from his open mouth, eyes clenched tightly shut. Dutch only lifted his head when he felt arthur start to soften, hips twitch now in overstimulation as dutch slowly removed his suctioned lips, tongue flicking against arthur’s slit before finally pulling off fully.
Dutch swallowed all that arthur spilled, except for a single drop that slipped from the corner of his mouth as he lifted his head up, before he swept his tongue out to collect it, swallowing it down too.
Arthur saw this with hooded eyes, and actually felt his cock twitch again, though there was no way he was getting hard again this soon. Instead, he dropped his head back and moaned, heated and overwhelmed by the sight.
Dutch shimmied his way up arthur’s body so that they were almost in their original positions, with dutch straddled in arthur’s lap, his hips lifted just enough so as to not rest directly on arthur’s overstimulated member, instead resting on arthur’s still twitching thighs.
Unable to resist any longer, dutch used his trembling hands to unbutton his pants, shrugging his shirt off his shoulders, thankful for arthur’s lagging hands to come up to unbutton his sweated through union suit, a button or two breaking off, but give them enough room to push it down around his waist enough so that his cock could spring forth.
Dutch was about to pull himself off, when arthur swatted his hands away and sat up, young enough to recover relatively quickly and pulling dutch forward so that they were slotted closer together, dutch’s red leaking cock trapped between their exposed stomachs.
Unable to control his hips, too pent up to try and maintain any illusion of control, dutch started to ride arthur’s lap, grinding his cock against arthur’s hard stomach. He wrapped his arms around arthur’s shoulder, and tucked his sweating, fevered forehead against the other’s neck, mouth hanging open in an audible pant.
“Arthur, fuck..fuck don’t move, don’t move please, fuck..oh shit,” was all he could say before spilling himself all over arthur’s stomach, embarrassingly quick. He couldn’t help falling into the pleasure-pain of overstimulation as he continued to rub his softening cock against arthur’s rippling stomach, wrapping his arms tightly around him.
Arthur’s arms wrapped around dutch’s body, clutching his back desperately, returning the solid embrace, relishing in the feeling of the perfect fit of their bodies slotted together, the only movement being dutch as he settled deeper into arthur’s lap, seemingly trying to burry between a his ribcage right into his still-pounding heart.
Their tiny cabin refuge was silent, except for panting breaths and deep sighs. Arthur had fooled around plenty, and he knows dutch is a bit of a harlot himself -another thing he would keep to himself- but this was more than foolin’ around..this was intimate in a way arthur had never truly experienced before and he wanted to prolong it as much a possible, even if his legs were starting to tingle from dutch’s weight.
Speaking of, dutch was, of course, the first of them to recover. He cleared his throat and pulled himself back so that he could look into arthur’s eyes, unwrapping his arms from around his companion to cup arthur’s face with his palms, thumbs rubbing gently under arthur’s eyes.
He leaned in, kissing arthur’s forehead gently before, rather ungracefully, flopping off of him to lay back down against the pillow. He couldn’t help a low, discomforted groan that escaped his lips as he straightened out his legs, wiggling them slightly to try and regain some feeling.
Clearing his throat again, he turned his head to look at arthur, slightly taken off guard to see that arthur had been staring intently at him. He glanced down to tuck himself back into his pants, and do them up again, before turning on his side and doing the same for arthur...taking him gently into his hand and tucking him safely back in his jeans, giving the boys hip a gentle swat when he was done, turning his attention back to straightening out his own clothes.
He saw arthur follow suit, removing his shirt all together to wipe up dutch’s spend on his abdomen, leaning over the side of the bed to pull out one of his spares and tugging it on, turning back around on his side to face dutch, who he found was back on his side again too.
Dutch could sense that arthur was feeling some unease, some tension and he knew it was his responsibility to ease that tension, though he was not quite sure what to say. Instead, he rose onto his elbow and placed his other hand back on arthur’s side, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss on the lips.
“You okay, arthur?” he whispered, shimmying his body closer, wrapping the arm that was laying on arthur’s side around to stroke his back.
Arthur closed his eyes and pressed closer to dutch, tucking his head under his neck and wrapping his arms around the other’s firm body.
“I..well, to be honest dutch i’ve been trying to think of something to say but i think you might as well have sucked my brains right out of my cock, all that’s in my head is the ringin’ of church bells.”
More than anything arthur felt dutch’s response, a sharp huff of laughter and a kiss to the top of his head. He couldn’t help but shiver, and tuck himself closer to dutch, wrapping his arms tighter around him.
“Well, I’ll take that as a complement, son. How about...how about we don’t worry about what to say, and just get some rest? We have all day tomorrow, and years ever after to think of what to say,” dutch murmured into the top of arthur’s head, planting another gentle kiss right in the middle, pulling arthur as tight against his body as he could and settling in to sleep.
All arthur could manage, now that the events of the evening finally started to settle into his bones, was to spread his legs just a bit to allow dutch’s thigh to slip between them, and tuck in even closer, closing his eyes. Sleep was a welcome getaway. .
Though neither would remember it enough to claim it come morning, one of them had a dream of a shallow breathing, bleeding cliff bathed in morning sun.