Written by permission in theRide a Cowboy 'verse by Kyrieane
The rodeo's over and the Seven Hills Ranch has done itself proud. Xander grins and shakes hands with the Mayor, then moves away as other ranchers come forward to claim their prizes. Every year Gillette holds a charity rodeo for the Boy's and Girl's Club. There's some real stuff - bronc riding and whatnot - but there's also a lot of exhibition stuff by the local 4-H and Future Farmers. There's even some kids from the reservation; doing a traditional dance, showing off skills of horsemanship and hunting. It's a great two days, and all the ranches around Gillette compete for the cheap ribbons the Mayor hands out. Every rider or roper or cutter is sponsored, and every win brings in more money for the Club. And Seven Hills Ranch, as always, is in the top five.
This year Wil had been riding broncs and showing off his fancy roping skills, and Xander had leaned on the fence and watched the lean, muscled form flex and turn, arch and hold. As pretty as a Shoshone dancer, as tough as the little buckskin horse he rides. It takes everything Xander's got not to go over to him and bend him over a hay-bale - take him right there because fuck, Will is sexy and two years together haven't dimmed Xander's lust one bit.
With the rodeo winding down Xander wanders off in search of his crew. Four of his hands are loading horses and equipment into a trailer, ready to go home and they direct Xander to the fair-ground barn and give him their good-nights, grinning. He wanders into the barn and finds Wil, patiently showing a lanky 4-H'er how to use the lasso. After three misses and two successful throws the kid grins and shakes hands and runs off, and Xander watches as Will patiently starts to unravel the snarl of knots the kid has made of a second rope. He glances up when Xander approaches and his grin is electric. Xander shivers.
"You're pretty good with that rope," he purrs, head down and mouth curling in a crooked smile and Wil's eyes go wide and then narrow, speculative and considering look that let's Xander know he's in for something good.
"Yeah, I am," Wil says, and his agile fingers make a twist and a loop and suddenly he's flinging the rope out, straight at Xander and around him, settling the lasso with a small jerk, pinning arms to ribs. The rope is soft with age, still a mess of knots and Wil grins and backs away, leading Xander along down the length of the deserted barn to the last stall. Gear is scattered there - more rope, a broken halter, soft cotton bandages that are used to wrap horse's legs on long trips. All of it scattered on fragrant, greenish bales of new hay and Xander can't help but grin as he takes the rope in his hands and tugs, pulling Wil close.
"Gonna show me a rope trick?" Xander husks, and Wil's tongue comes out to touch for a moment at his upper lip.
"Oh, yeah. Hands behind you, love," he whispers, and spins Xander around. Xander complies, his heart pounding, his cock already throbbing. The rope loops once, then twice around his wrists - just tight enough to hold him still, not so tight that he'll hurt himself. Wil's gotten good at this sort of thing. He presses up close and tight behind Xander, hands coming around in front to delicately, slowly, untuck the worn, green-grey work shirt Xander is wearing. The buttonholes are loose and Wil can pretty much pop the buttons out one by one, by tugging on the tails of the shirt, spreading it open from the bottom up. His hands grasp the collar and pull down, pinning Xander's arms even tighter to his sides. And then warm, callused fingers are rubbing ever-so-slowly over Xander's shoulders and neck - over his collarbones. Rope-hardened palms brush hypnotically back and forth, back and forth over his nipples until Xander is arching and breathing hard. Ass pushing back into Wil and Wil's mouth wet and sharp-edged on the taut curve of his neck. Slow slide down his ribs, hands warmer now from friction, fingertip dipping into his navel and tracing the edge. Then Wil undoes belt buckle and button, and slips two fingers into the waist of Xander's jeans.
Xander's hands are clenching and twisting, caught in rope and shirt and Wil just pushes forward with his hips a little more as his fingers dip down and find Xander's cock - pull it slowly out of restraining cotton and denim until it's resting, hot and damp, against Xander's belly. Wil's own shirt has come undone and Xander can feel the warm, hard planes of his chest, and the staccato pound of Wil's heart between his shoulder blades.
"Fuck but you're sexy, love," Wil whispers, and he pushes Xander's jaw a little, until they can kiss mouth to mouth. Wil's tongue pushes in and flutters against Xander's - fucks into his mouth and then Wil is turning him and pushing him back into a wall of sweetly yielding, springy hay. It prickles Xander's back but he doesn't care, because Wil is crouched in front of him, inching his jeans down; pull at one hip, pull at another and tasting each bit of revealed skin with his tongue and his lips, blue eyes flickering up to look at Xander, mouth curved in the devil's own smirk.
"Wil - Christ -" Xander has to catch his breath, has to concentrate on keeping his legs under him. Wil gets his jeans down to his knees and then the rope end is being snagged and pulled forward - pulled up. And Wil's hand rubs Xander's ass - kneads the muscle and pulls him open and the rope settles, stiffish and knotted, in the crease there. Wil grins, looking up at him - leans up and reaches out with his tongue to just catch the drop of pre-come that's trembling on the tip of Xander's cock. Xander's breath explodes out of him, half a laugh, half a groan, and Wil suddenly sucks the entire head of Xander's cock into his mouth and tugs the rope at the same moment and there's a knot, pressing into Xander - one just there against the sensitive skin of his opening and one just below and Xander can't stop his hips bucking forward and his head driving back into the hay behind him.
"Oh fuck! Wil -"
"Hmmmm?" Will hums, looking at him, one hand on Xander's hip and the other just twitching and pulling and worrying the rope and Xander groans again. Long minutes of this, of Wil's clever tongue and hot mouth and nipping teeth and the fucking rope, pushing just enough to make Xander groan and pant and beg for more. His thighs are shaking, his chest is heaving, he's saying please please please like a prayer to every god there is and Wil finally takes pity on him.
Stands up, slow as he can, smooth chest rubbing sweet friction from balls to tip and then leaning heavily into Xander, kissing him hard, with teeth and tongue that just push and take and want. And those clever hands still twitching on that rope, not giving Xander a second to catch his breath.
"Wil - god, please, Wil -"
"What'cha want, Xander? Want me to fuck you? Want me to bend you over and just pound into you? That what you want?" Wil's breath hot against his ear, Wil's voice like honey and sin and Xander does his best to grind against the denim and steel of Wil's jeans and belt, whimpering.
"Yeah - Christ yeah, please -" Wil kisses him again and turns him again and there's a jar of some sort of liniment on the rail, the kind that they buy to ease work-strained muscles. Its sharp, eucalyptus scent is suddenly in the air and Xander knows this is gonna feel so hurtfully good.
The rope is suddenly taut against his body, making him buck, and Wil's hand is at his mouth. "Hold this, love," he says, laughter in his voice and Xander takes the rope in his teeth with a snarl of frustration - and freezes, because it's tight and Jesus that feels good. Jingling of belt-buckle and slide of zip and a soft sound of flesh-on-flesh.
"Drop it now, there's a good boy," Wil croons, and Xander lets the rope fall - feels Wil move it aside and feels his fingers, gentle and slick soothing the over-stimulated skin between his legs. The eucalyptus doesn’t burn so much as cool and Xander arches back and pushes back and moans and Wil jerks him by his hips, getting him to lean over a little. The head of Wil's cock is just resting there, pushing lightly, maddeningly, just like the damn rope and Xander can't stand it anymore.
"Fuck, Wil! Please just fuck me - god - want to feel you open me up -"
"Anything for you, love," Wil says, right in his ear and then he eases forward and breaches the muscle and pushes in, one long, strong glide that doesn't give Xander any time for adjustment, and the burn and the stretch are god-damned good and Xander's just yells, voice a little rough and raw. Wil pushes up tight against him for a moment and then he starts a slow, steady fuck that hits the spot, every time. It sends little shock-waves of tingling pleasure all through Xander's body - sends gooseflesh over his arms and makes his nipples peak, so sensitive that that damn rope, brushing over them, makes him yelp. And Wil's got that rope around his cock, now, not tight just - stimulation, smooth and rough and the press of a knot at the tip and his hand over all, slippery and cool from the liniment. His lips are nibbling down the oh-so-sensitive strip of skin that goes from the back of Xander's ear to his shoulder and Xander doesn't know what to do, which sensation to push into more. He's panting and gasping and begging and Wil just keeps up that smooth, steady thrusting that's driving him crazy.
So Xander does his own tease - clenches down tight on Wil when he pulls out, holding the head of Wil's cock as hard as he can and then pushing back, opening, letting Wil slide in as deep and as hard as he wants and Wil is panting now, moaning - his mouth hot and biting on Xander's back and shoulders. He starts to just pound in, the rope looped around Xander's cock and tugging and twitching, his hand doing a pull-twist-glide that's sending lightning down the length of it and through Xander's balls. He throws his head back, crying out, pumping himself mindlessly back and forth between hand and cock and his orgasm is a shuddering, twisting snake of molten glass slithering through and through him.
As his body tightens down hard around Wil he can feel Wil's breath explode against his back, stuttering groan and then the rhythm breaks and staggers and Wil thrusts in hard three, four, five times and comes as well, forehead pressed to Xander's shoulder and belly heaving against Xander's bound hands.
"Jesus, Wil, oh fuck -" Xander's voice is a croak and he just leans into the hay for a moment and breathes - shivers all over when Wil slips slowly out. Then the rope is slithering away off of him, back between his legs and Xander can feel Wil's fingers are shaking a little as he pulls up the shirt and un-loops the knot - finally eases the lasso off of Xander's shoulders and turns him. Wil is flushed and oiled with sweat, heavy-eyed and smiling and Xander threads his fingers into Wil's hair and yanks him over for a hard, long kiss.
"You're so fuckin' good," Xander murmurs, chest to chest and cock to cock, and Wil smiles against his mouth.
"You inspire me," Wil murmurs back - kisses him back. "Love you,"
"Yeah. Love you, too. Wanna go home, show me how you ride that bronc so good?" Wil leans back, laughing, blue eyes wide and full of delight, and his hands slide down under Xander's jeans and cup his ass, pulling him close.
"Fuck yeah, love." Duck of the head and devilish smirk - flash of blue eyes from under long lashes and Xander has to catch his breath. "Gonna show you all night." Xander shivers in anticipation and wonders if there's a ribbon for that.