Chapter Text
Raylan was real careful about driving up to the outcrop. He’d only been there a few times, and tonight his head was pounding and his jaw was aching and his tummy was rumbling. He should have felt like complete and utter shit, but really he felt fine, he felt like… really good. He smiled through his careful concentration, thinking how upset Boyd would be if he wrapped his pickup ‘round a tree on his way up there.
The fireworks had just started as he got the pick-up backed up as close to the rocks as he could. He pulled the emergency blanket out of the cab and laid it out on the bed. Raylan then laid himself down and took in the show.
The Crowders always did put on some nice fireworks, not anything like the county or the town could afford, but it was small and pretty, real artistic like. Flashes of red and blue and green appeared in the sky with that loud crack and the boom following. And those white ones that shot up like rockets, stringing stars behind them like a comet, those were Raylan’s favorite.
The finale was short, but intrepid in its use of a shit ton of fireworks in about a thirty second period and Raylan could hear Boyd’s whoop all the way up where he was. Boy, did that maniac love to blow shit up.
Raylan thought about the other day when the powderman had showed them both how to set charges. It was a skill every miner should have at least a basic knowledge of, but most hardly used it. Boyd though, could not get enough information about how it worked; he asked incessant questions, to the point of annoyance. Raylan had to kick him, sharp in the shin, to get him to lay off.
When the man asked them which one wanted to blow the charges they’d set, Raylan had deferred the honor to Boyd, who grabbed it up like a kid on Christmas. He’d shouted “fire in the hole,” like he’d been waiting his whole life to say those particular words and a shit-eating grin did not leave his face for the rest of the day and into the evening, which they’d spent celebrating at Audrey’s.
They hadn’t picked up any girls that night, hadn’t really wanted to, bowing to some unspoken agreement that it wasn’t necessary. Raylan thought about how they’d left the place, arms over shoulders, laughing like idiots. Boyd had looked at him for a long time in the dark of the new moon. Raylan remembered it distinctly, because he hadn’t been able to see Boyd’s expression.
He wondered now, what he’d missed and he ached for Boyd’s touch again.
Raylan must have dozed off after the fireworks ended, because he was roused by the closing of a car door behind his pick up. He stirred, trying to wake himself, and saw Boyd coming around to the tailgate that Raylan had left down.
He stood for a moment, his face and body shadowed from the trees overhead. His hand came up to grip the side of the bed, fingers curling in anticipation. But Boyd didn’t move and Raylan knew why. Here and now they didn’t have to rush, they didn’t have to worry about being caught. They had all the time in the world. Raylan knew Boyd had the patience of the fucking devil himself.
“Raylan,” Boyd said quietly.
Raylan blinked sleepily. “Boyd.”
The corner of Boyd’s mouth quirked in a kind of half-smile, as if he liked what he was seeing too much to keep a straight face, when he said, “I hope I didn’t keep you too long, my friend.”
“Is that what we are, Boyd? Friends?” Raylan raised his eyebrows playfully.
Boyd turned that little quirk into a big flash of teeth. “That, and more, Raylan. If you want.”
“Oh, I think you know what I want,” Raylan replied, his heart starting to pound. He hadn’t wanted it before that night, but now the idea of going without was unthinkable. "Now why don't you come up here and give it to me?"
The look in Boyd's eyes was one of rising to a challenge, but there was a hint of something else, something that made Raylan's skin grow hot. He sat up a little, propping himself on his elbows.
Boyd climbed up on the tailgate, ending up on his hands and knees at the foot of the truck bed. He crawled, on all fours real slow, like some kind of predator, up the length of the bed and planted his hands on either side of Raylan’s waist. Boyd looked into his eyes and an intense sensation of tension, desire, permeated the air between them, making things feel thick and heavy.
Even Boyd's words sounded as though they had weight. "This what you had in mind?"
"Boyd, quit bein' an asshole and just kiss me," Raylan breathed, running out of patience.
Boyd's kiss was a searing hot mess of lips and teeth, rough and wet and everything Raylan had been waiting for. Boyd sucked Raylan’s lower lip between his teeth; it was an insistent pull, but somehow gentle and Raylan felt his cock jerk in his jeans.
Their hands tangled in each other’s hair, Boyd’s going wild and messy, sticking out in all directions. Raylan wanted to press every inch of his burning skin against Boyd, and he seemed to be thinking the same thing, because Raylan’s shirt was over his head and tossed to the corner of the bed before any words could be spoken on the matter. Boyd’s followed suit right after.
It was only when Boyd’s hands found his waistband that Raylan stopped to think. “Boyd,” he spoke into his lips. “You know what the hell you’re doin’? ‘Cuz I sure as shit don’t.”
Boyd pulled back and looked steadily into Raylan’s eyes. His hands rose from Raylan’s hips to his face, his fingers brushing back into Raylan’s hair, his thumb lingering softly at Raylan’s purpling jawline.
“We’re gonna do whatever feels good, Raylan,” he replied in a quiet, reassuring voice. Raylan didn’t even know that he’d needed reassuring, but he closed his eyes and accepted it. “It don’t matter if we know what to do. We’ll do what’s good for us,” Boyd finished with a kiss against Raylan’s temple.
“And what’s good for us?” Raylan found himself asking.
Boyd spread Raylan’s legs, keeping them apart with his bony knees, a wicked smile forming on his lips. “Your choice, Raylan. Do you want to fuck my hands, my mouth, or my ass?”
“Jesus, Boyd,” Raylan almost laughed. “I hadn’t really thought about it.”
Boyd shook his head as if Raylan was somehow missing an important point. “I don’t want you to think, Raylan. I want you to fuck me.” He bent low and pressed his lips to Raylan’s chest, working his way down in kisses even as he pulled at the button and zipper at Raylan’s fly.
His pants were down around his knees and Boyd stripped them off efficiently before Raylan realized he could not answer Boyd's question. "What do you want, Boyd? Tell me what else you want."
"I want to see you," Boyd whispered looking up at him, as their hands pulled his jeans and underwear over his tight little ass. "I want to see your face when I make you come."
Raylan shivered, kissing the side of Boyd's mouth as he spoke. "What else?"
"I want..." He paused when Raylan's hand found his hip, then his cock. "I want you to come inside me. I want little pieces of you all up in me, Raylan."
Raylan pumped his hand up Boyd's dick and rubbed himself against the narrow space between his arm and the inside of Boyd's thigh. It was all too fast, too ready. He was already wound up from before and he'd been thinking about it for so long. "I don't think we've got time to open you up right, Boyd. What if I just come all over you?"
Boyd moaned agreement into Raylan's shoulder, pressing the flat of his teeth to skin. His hands found Raylan's cock and their bodies and hands fumbled into some semblance of a rhythm, arching towards each other and straining for purchase.
"You a biter, Boyd?" Raylan said to the sky, feeling it coming, like a storm rolling in.
Boyd's heavy laugh turned into a pant and he grunted in Raylan's ear, "Only when provoked." As Raylan huffed a laugh into the crook of Boyd's neck, he suddenly stiffened and groaned Raylan's name, sinking his nails into Raylan's back and tightening his fingers as they slipped through his come, up Raylan's cock and down and up again.
It was enough to push him over. Later, Raylan wouldn't remember exactly what sound he made, but it was loud and harsh and it echoed across the valley. He punctuated it with a "Fuck," and fell across Boyd, who had just collapsed back onto the blanket.
"Lord, have mercy," Boyd said softly, in an awed tone of voice. His hands rose to play languidly with Raylan's hair and his smile looked like it was ready to split his face open.
It made Raylan feel real good, that Boyd had been so pleased, made so happy by what they just did. He hadn't ever felt so good about doing something before, even when he was with girls, or when his mama said she was proud of him. He felt a strong desire to hear what else Boyd wanted from him, because up ‘til then everything he’d named all seemed like things Raylan could find himself doing, find himself wanting badly to do.
Raylan pulled himself off Boyd and his lips quirked when he heard the boy's sad little whine as Raylan moved away. He laid back down just a second later and sidled himself over, stretching his limbs next to Boyd's and he was rewarded with a happy sigh.
"Anything else I can do for you, Crowder?"
Boyd turned on his side, eyes closed, big smile still stuck on his face. "I want you to live inside me," Boyd whispered into Raylan's shoulder.
Raylan looked down at the top of Boyd's head, only glimpsing a quarter profile of his expression. It seemed a little too loose, even for an afterglow like this one. "Boyd, are you still drunk?"
Boyd grunted and Raylan laughed, shaking them both with it. "You sure hold onto a buzz a long time."
"My daddy had us take a celebratory shot. I think it was bourbon," Boyd mumbled, pressing himself closer.
Raylan let him, pulling his arm underneath, to wrap around Boyd. "And you drove yourself all the way up here?"
"I've driven drunker," he replied low and grumpy. "Shut up. I want to sleep."
"All right," Raylan replied, going soft. "If that's what you want."
Raylan, thankfully, had set the alarm on his cheap digital watch and was awoken at five the next morning by an insistent, high-pitched beeping and Boyd’s loud groan.
“Get that thing outta my ear,” Boyd complained, burying his face in Raylan’s side. “It’s still fucking dark.”
Raylan rolled away from him, pulling his arm out from under Boyd’s heavy body. “It’s time for work, Boyd. That’s what the alarm means. Get up.”
They’d slept naked under a cloudless sky and the morning was chilly for summer. “Shit,” Raylan muttered and rubbed his hands together.
“You surely said it,” Boyd muttered, reaching for his shirt. He came up with Raylan’s and tossed it to him. Raylan’s jeans were hanging off the end of the tailgate and Boyd’s had been thrown clear near the edge of the outcrop.
Boyd laughed as he walked over to retrieve them. “Woulda been bad to have these go over the edge, huh? You gotta be more careful next time, Raylan.”
Raylan watched Boyd as he put on those jeans still shirtless, thinking the underwear probably did go over the edge, seeing as they were nowhere in sight. He didn’t say anything about it and neither did Boyd. “I’m pretty sure it was you tossed those pants away, Boyd. Careful nothing, next time I’ll just do it myself.”
Boyd’s gaze sharpened at Raylan’s agreeing there would be a next time, making Raylan shake his head.
Boyd let his hands fall loose to his side and tilted his head, like he couldn’t quite figure Raylan out. The sun was rising behind him, as if it was coming out of the mountain just to illuminate Boyd Crowder in a glowing backlight of hazy orange and yellow. “I never thought,” he murmured, “that this would ever happen. I thought it was just me.”
Raylan smiled softly and slid off the edge of the tailgate, Boyd’s t-shirt in hand. He walked towards Boyd, but not so close he could touch him. “You thought wrong,” he replied and looked Boyd up and down. He’d put on some muscle since starting at the mine, so had Raylan, but Boyd had been so skinny before, it really showed. He looked more like a man than ever before, and Raylan felt his cock stiffen a little just at the thought. Jesus. “Maybe I didn’t know what it was, but it was there.”
“I thought I was imagining it,” Boyd said. “My mind playing tricks. I wanted—“
Raylan stopped him. They didn’t need to talk about it. “You told me what you wanted, Boyd. You can tell me again next time. I think you heard how much I liked it.” Raylan smirked and put his free hand to the back of his head. He took one more step and handed Boyd his shirt.
Boyd took it and pulled it over his head, then opened his mouth once, hesitating before finally speaking, “You sure you don’t mind?”
“Don’t mind what?”
Boyd looked down, scuffing his foot on the gravel. “I mean, you always look like you mean it in church.”
Raylan smiled, finding it utterly ridiculous that his mama’s prompting had actually convinced Boyd to come to church regularly again. And of course he looked like he meant it. If he didn’t, he’d get a smack from both his parents, his mama for not taking the Lord seriously and Arlo for upsetting his mama. Raylan had learned long ago to pick his battles with both of them.
He didn’t say any of this to Boyd. He just kept on smiling and asked, “You been watchin’ me?”
Boyd looked up, his eyes somehow shy, but steady too. “I always watch you, Raylan. Always.”
Raylan didn’t break Boyd’s stare, but he wanted to, feeling his good humor drop. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He didn’t like talking about stuff like this in the first place. They were already doing it, weren’t they? Had already done it and had established they were gonna do it again. If he didn’t want to, if he didn’t think it was right, why would he have done it in the first place?
But the look on Boyd’s face said he wanted an answer, so Raylan shrugged. “If I’m going to spend my life digging coal, Boyd, I might as well do something that makes me happy too. You—“ He faltered, failing to pull up his wry smile. “Having you, like this, made me happy. Will do again too, I think.”
“Well, I thank you for that, Raylan,” Boyd replied. He didn’t need to say the same back and Raylan didn’t ask him to; the look on his face said it all. They talked no more about it after that.
They took Boyd’s truck to the mine, as Raylan’s was parked in and had a come-covered blanket laid out in the bed. They didn’t say much on the way over, too hung-over to talk any more, Raylan too busy eating the chicken Boyd had neglected to mention he’d taken from the leftovers of the party.
They were careful not to smile too much at each other while on the job.
Not that anyone would have noticed. All the men were too busy nursing headaches and complaining about the holiday falling on a Tuesday to pay attention to two greenhorns who just happen to have fucked the night before. But Raylan knew, and so did Boyd, that it was best to keep up appearances.
Neither of them would soon forget they had just stumbled, half-blind, into something tremendously, precariously dangerous. Both of them had a feeling that if they were ever caught, it would probably be better if the mountain came down on their heads rather than anything else in Harlan.
And they both knew they were gonna risk it anyway. It was too good to let it slip away.