(i swear i used to be great at answering these on time)
"Angel, I reckon you'll regret those words when the sheriff inevitably comes around for my hide." Despite his warning, Dane finds himself laughing through the hysteria of it all. "But… but I'll be around. I'll be here to eat some of yer mama's food and help ya' around the farm… at least until I can get up and walk again." Speaking of which, Dane stares down at the floor of the hayloft and then at the ladder. Going up was one story, but going down is a whole different experience. Maybe he'll be able to figure something out that won't tear his stitches terrible. Or he could just take the chance and throw himself down the ladder, but that'll result in far too many injuries and Dane really won't be getting out of there any time soon.
Dane, besides himself, manages to laugh even harder until he's clutching at his side because of a stitch. "Oh God, angel, I don't know what I'm gonna do." He already knows that his plan is a lofty one. Hell, he's gonna need a miracle to actually find himself a quiet life worth living. "I gotta run away first… Gotta find somewhere where nobody knows me, but that's just gettin' tougher and tougher–" Dane sniffs and wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. "God, I just wanna live a quiet life y'know… maybe somewhere where there's big trees and big mountain air–" He gestures vaguely with his hand, almost as if he could just materialize the dream outta thin air. "A big ol' roadtrip, right?" He huffs a piece of strawberry blond hair from his eyes.
(same honestly)
Kit didn't really know what to think of the whole situation anymore. Half of him was already entrapped and interested in the cowboy at his side. He wanted to hear more about his past, about the places he had seen on his travels, even if he had been running from the law his whole life. Kit was sure that Dane had seen places beyond even he could think or imagine, met interesting people and had stories to tell, but he would never get to hear them if the man left so soon. Regardless, he was injured, and there would be no running or leaving when he was nursing a bullet wound in his side, and one where the man had already broken his stitches once. If the law came knocking on his door trying to find Dane they would have to go through him and his mother first. Clara was a nightmare when she was angry and ready to defend someone, and Kit? Well, he wasn't much of a fighter but he had his build and strength to help him out if he needed it.
"How about we focus on getting you down the ladder first, hm?" Because everything else could wait. Thinking about what Dane was going to do when he eventually left Kit's little farm and his barn hideaway could wait. Whatever happened to Dane when he left was his own choice and decision, but right then and now, he was Kit's responsibility. Kit had been the one to patch him up, and make sure he was stitched up correctly and dressed in something clean. Later, the man could have a bath and wash up so he didn't smell, just like they would both need after working on the farm for the rest of the afternoon. And Kit didn't want to think about Dane leaving. The thought already had his heart aching and he had only known the man for a day, not even.
(ARGH HEY BESTIE I HAVE NOT ABANDONED THIS I PROMISE MY BRAIN IS JUST PING PONGING OFF OF FORTY-EIGHT DIFFERENT WALLS AND NONE OF THEM HAVE BEEN RP RELATED ARGH my new years resolution is to keep up with these aldksjf hopefully i'll make it happen lol)
Dane kicks his feet gently, watching the hay-covered floor over the steel toes of his boots. "I mean," he sighs and runs his hands through his hair once more. "It is a little bit of a drop, innit?" He cocks an uneasy smile and looks over to Kit. "I'm sure I can figure out some way to get down." Slowly, probably, so incredibly slowly that it'll be nightfall before the soles of his boots hit the dirt. He runs his tongue over his chapped lips, a small reminder to drink some more water. "Any recommendations? This is yer barn after all." Dane means to look at Kit's face, but instead his eyes manage to somehow drift to his biceps–which Dane quickly looks away from before his wandering mind can paint too many pictures. He cracks a smile as a ridiculous idea comes to mind instead of any rational one. "Say, what if you went down and I just threw myself off this here hayloft. Think you could catch me, angel?"
And even as he says it, Dane finds his tongue growing in his mouth and his face heating. There's absolutely no doubt in Dane's mind that Kit could carry him. After all, the farmboy's done it before, what's stopping him from doing it again? Well… probably the fact that Dane's conscious but… well, he would be lying if he said that there isn't something going on between them… If their interaction back in Kit's bedroom was meant to prove anything–quiet confessions to the ceiling and close contact with their noses brushing and lips just breaths away–
Wow. Now Dane knows that he's been dreaming of too much romance. Those book he stole from the last town must be getting to him. (In the end, the guy always got the girl, but there was no mention of what happened to his best friend.) However, Dane knows that he made a promise to himself that he could hardly keep a full day of hours. He promised he wouldn't kiss Kit until Kit knew who he was, until he know what he could be getting himself into.
Well. Dane feels they're certainly at that point now, albeit just far sooner than he had expected.
"So?" Dane says aloud to pull himself out of his thoughts. "Any idea on how to do this?"
(lol youre good bestie dw i get it completely asdllaknfl)
Kit looked down to the barn below them, with the straw covering the dirty floor from haybales strewn across them and the odd piece of fruit that hadn't been stacked away properly. Regardless, climbing up the ladder had been the easy part of the injured cowboy at his side, getting down was going to be a struggle.
The farmboy hummed as he contemplated their options, "I'll go first and then you can follow me down," He started with a small shrug, "Then if ya fall I'll be there to catch you. No flingin' yourself off though," He cautioned, giving Dane a look that conveyed he was being dead serious about the ordeal, "Can't 'ave ya flyin' too far outta reach and bein' unable to catch you again." Because their first meeting Kit had been too slow to catch the falling man when he had toppled off his horse. The fact that Dane hadn't been more seriously injured considering the bullet wound that he had sported when he had done was a miracle. He had already torn his stitches once, too. Kit didn't need to be dealing with stitching him back up again for the third time in too days. The skin would already be aggravated from the first time, let alone the second or third. There was no need to make matters worse for the man sitting next to him. Besides, if he was going to be on his way again soon he needed to be as fit as possible. Then again, if he tore his stitches for the third time he would have to stay longer until they were completely healed.
God, what was he thinking? Making Dane hurt himself so he could stay around for longer? Who was he? Kit could have slapped himself at the thought. If Dane wanted to leave then he could leave. He was an adult and could make his own decisions about his life and how he wanted to live it. Even if the farmboy wanted him to stay for longer there wasn't anything he seemed to be able to do or say that would make him do so.
Disregarding those thoughts, because Kit didn't want to be dwelling on them for longer than he needed to be, he started down the ladder with ease, making it to the ground in no time at all. He gave the wooden tool a little shake to make sure it was secure as if it hadn't just held his weight the whole way down before he looked back up, "Aight, come on down."
Dane watches the curly top of Kit's head as the farmboy makes his way down the wooden ladder. He takes his time marveling at the solid muscle corded beneath the bicep of his sun-tanned skin. Hell, he's been in those arms. Unconscious, sure, but still. Dane wonders if he even weighs anything to Kit. He lugs around those massive bales of hay day in and day out and Dane is, what, hundred thirty pounds? Maybe? Hell, it's been months since he's seen a scale and years since he's even eaten good. Dane supposes that's why God or whoever brought him right here to Kit. Kit and his lovely mama and her fabulous cooking. He just wishes that he'll be able to eat more for lunch and dinner. It was nothin' short of embarrassing when he couldn't handle anything more than half of a peach and a slice of waffle. This life on the run has ruined him, truly. S'why he can't wait to stop.
When Kit's feet firmly hit the ground, Dane knocks himself out of his daze and takes it as his turn to get down the ladder. It looks sturdy enough, but Dane of all people know that looks can be mighty deceiving. Blowing a piece of hair from his forehead, Dane carefully scoots his way to the edge, careful not to agitate his side as he turns his body and takes the first step down. The heel of his boot luckily notches nicely against the rung, giving him just an extra moment of needed support. He goes down another step, heavily favoring his right side as he moves. The hayloft certainly feels higher than it actually is, and Dane is sure that his pace is frustratingly slow for someone as fit as the farmboy. But he makes it. He hits the ground with a little too much force and ends up falling back, right against the firm chest of his angel.
"Oof," he breathes out as the momentary shock from his stumble leaves him. "I'm alright," he reassures as he dusts the front of his jeans off. "Mighty fine hayloft you got there, angel." He turns, carefully, just to find himself nose to nose with the other man. "Take anybody else up there recently?" He knows he's probably asking for it with a sly grin and a tilt of his head, but really, Dane can't even blame himself.
Kit wouldn't lie to himself, he was more than a little nervous for Dane making his way down the ladder. If he lost his footing and fell it wouldn't be good, but he could only pray that that wasn't going to happen and that he would be okay. If the cowboy took it easy enough then he would be fine, but somehow Kit got the impression that Dane wasn't exactly one to take things easy, not with his past and track record. Honestly, if he flung himself off the hayloft he wouldn't be surprised in the slightest, he just had to make sure he caught the man before anything terrible happened- like a broken bone or tearing of those God damned stitches that were giving them both a shit tonne of trouble. Luckily, though, it seemed Dane was airing on the side of caution. Good, that eased his worries enough as he watched the man slowly climb down the wooden ladder they had gone up not moments before.
The second Dane's back hit his chest Kit was wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him. Easy to do when he was twice the size of the cowboy now in his arms, again. It seemed that this was a habit the two of them were picking up on, and Kit didn't mind in the slightest, not when he wanted the other to stay with him for longer. Romance wasn't exactly his area of expertise. When he had lived his whole life out on the farm, been ostracised due to his father's actions, there was no room for romance. Could what he was doing even be counted as romance? All he was doing was holding the man, after all. They had shared that moment back in his room, too, but it didn't mean anything. It couldn't mean anything when Dane was so set on leaving as soon as he was given the opportunity.
Either way, the man turned in his arms, and Kit didn't let go of him. He tried to reason with himself that it was for the other's safety, to make sure he didn't fall over and regain his composure now that he was on the ground after a small, harder landing than what he had been expecting. Of course, deep down, he knew it wasn't just that, it was more than that, but he couldn't let it be more than that. But oh, the way Dane looked at him with that sly grin… it was as if the man was begging for it, for the teasing and more and- what was he thinking? He couldn't, right? He shouldn't was the better word. Yet Kit couldn't help but let his eyes wander down to those enticing lips, back to those alluring eyes and down again, "Ya know you're the only one, darlin'."
Dane absolutely cannot complain with Kit's hands situated so nicely on his hips–the feeling practically natural as he leans ever so forward to lazily drape his arms over Kit's shoulders. With this position, their noses are hardly an inch apart, the both of them breathing in the same air, and Dane knows that this feeling is all to similar to being drunk. That is, without the nasty hangover. His mind still buzzes and his chest leaps and he knows that he could just lean forward and connect the two of them–
But, god, Dane can't help but wonder if it's far too soon. Hell, when has he ever been one to take things slow? He's on the move, constantly running and shifting and squirming so he won't ever be able to be caught–but has the farmboy already caught him? Eugh, he's going to make himself sick with all this sappy thinking.
You know what? To hell with thinking. It's gotten him this far and Dane believes that his mind has done enough thinking for a little while. It's time to listen to his damn heart.
So Dane leans forward with a small smile, going slowly and carefully to give his angel time to back away if he needs it. He prays that he read this all correctly, that he isn't going to screw this all up by being too forward, but Dane doesn't want to think about that now. He doesn't want to think about anything other than the way their lips slowly connect in a lazy kiss beneath the hayloft in this fine abandoned barn.
(it's on the shorter side but they gay! good for these bitches)
(fucking FINALLY- the edging is over)
Was the lack of air in the barn because of the humidity dragging it out of there? Or was it because Dane was so incredibly close to him that he couldn't breathe? The latter. Definitely the fucking latter, especially when the other man wrapped his arms around his neck and they were only inches apart. So close again, just like they had been in his room. So, so close. It would be easy to lean in and connect their lips but Kit held off, even though his eyes followed the line between Dane's nose and enticing lips. How could anyone not be enraptured by the charming man? It was so easy to get lost in those bright blue eyes, eyes that he imagined the ocean would have looked like, eyes as blue as the ponds and lakes over the horizon.
His other hand finally made its way to Dane's hip, and then lower still, resting and hooking his fingers through the belt buckle that had Kit drawing Dane right flush against him till the only space was the mere inch between their lips. Kit wanted his hand to drift lower, to feel Dane up under the hayloft because the man was alluring and dangerous and everything Kit could have ever wanted, more so than he realised. If he hadn't met the man in his arms now it would have been likely the farm boy would be in his room pining over someone from one of those movies he loves so much, or neglecting how he felt about men. It was almost impossible not to be enticed and want to connect their lips. But he didn't. Kit held off just in case.
Yet Dane leaned in, and Kit didn't back away. Not when he wanted this. He wanted, needed a taste of those lips even if it was just once. Once under the hayloft and if the two hated it, or Dane realised it was a mistake, they could forget about the incident. The moment their lips connected, however, it melted away and a fire burned within him. The kiss was lazy, slow, but it had Kit pressing into the kiss more, the hand on Dane's hip squeezed, the one around his belt drifted down and squeezed, too.
(about damn time!!!!)
Dane smiles as Kit presses into him, making the kiss a little less intimate than he would like. He perseveres and returns in earnest, trying not to laugh with glee as Kit slides his hand down Dane's back, and then a little further than that. "Handsy, aren't ya?" he pulls away to mutter before leaning right back in. Even with his eyes closed, Dane still sees fireworks of color as they move against each other, the lazy kiss quickly turning into something far more heated. To hell with butterflies, Dane has a tornado of giddy emotions swirling in his gut. Maybe he's just repressed–but when the angle makes a small noise in their fever, Dane knows that this attraction is something far more than merely superficial.
Dane eventually moves his hands from around the angel's neck to the collar of his shirt, pulling them just that much closer together. Their noses are practically squished against each other's faces. When they actually have the mind to breathe, it's hot and humid from their shared environment. Part of Dane wonders what would happen if they were caught, the thought both thrilling and terrifying, but the only other soul on this farm that would actually mind is all the way back in the little ranch house. Dane prays to God that Kit's mama is a kind one who don't care what shenanigans her son gets involved with as long as he's safe and sane. Dane isn't exactly the best role model or crowd to get stuck with, but with the farmboy pressed right up against him, Dane can't even care.
Finally pulling away and panting, Dane knocks their foreheads together and smiles. "Well, exactly how far did you wanna go with this? I'm comfortable with whatever you are, angel." He can't help but notice how breathless his voice is as he speaks, how red and swollen Kit's lips are, how the flush on his face looks so nice compared to the dark curls of his hair–
Maybe it was because it had been far too long since Kit had shared a kiss with someone. Maybe it was because it was Dane that he was kissing– the far too skinny cowboy that had caused his heart to flip its lid by simply looking in his direction, but the kiss sent lightning coursing through his body faster than it had ever done before in his life. It was lazy for a few moments but grew into something more passionate within seconds, maybe that was because Kit didn't know how to keep his hands to himself. Well, he did, but he didn't want to, not when Dane was inviting and addictive in ways no one had ever been before.
The farm boy, who had never met anyone outside of the two towns that he had visited, was wrapped up with the smaller man in his arms and barely even knew him. Maybe that was a part of it. He didn't know the man, and wouldn't be given much of an opportunity to do so when Dane was insistent on leaving the second he was better. The mystery of not knowing who the man before him was made the kiss all the more electric. It helped, too, when in the moments that their lips pulled apart he could feel Dane's breath on his lips, skating over his features before they were together again in a dance that tasted like peaches and honey, warm and begging him to stay for longer. Begging him to come back in for more, more more. How could anyone not want to stay in the barn kissing the man when each touch sent shivers down his spine? When every time their lips moved against one another he tensed in the best way possible, his hands only tightening their hold on the cowboy when it did.
Dane pulled away a little, and Kit's eyes opened, hooded and alight despite the shadows of their faces cast upon each other. One step, he used his body to push Dane's back with the movement. Another step, then another, until Dane's back gently hit one of the posts holding up the hayloft, "Jus' shut up an' kiss me." He mumbled, before he was pressing his lips against Dane's far harder than he had been a second ago.
Dane can't stop his smile as he practically laughs into the kiss, momentarily having to pull away to recollect himself. It feels… so very natural with Kit, both of them moving in tandem and reacting accordingly. Perfectly. He smells like alfalfa and hard work, and Dane supposes he should at least be slightly appalled, but he can't even bring himself to care. Not when everything feels so right. Not when he's been so patiently waiting for this.
Kissing hasn't ever been anything new to Dane. He's been in the beds of a handful of men who ask him to keep discrete. He's had to play a beard for a few fine women before, but of course, none of those kisses had any real meaning. They were staged for the media, for the town, for their fathers and the fathers of their lovely unlawful wives. But here. Right now, with no audience nor people to please, Dane's allowed to relax, allowed to tense and move just along with Kit–and Dane would be lying if he said that he wasn't more than pleased with Kit's strong body backing him against the pillar. His back hits the wood with a small thud, having to pull away and giggle just slightly at their new position.
"Yessir," Dane mutters after Kit's quiet instruction, reaching for the back of the brunet's head to pull him in close, heated. Perfect. Dane can't stop the small noise that escapes him, wedged between a wall and a handsome man twice his size.
That damned noise had Kit's stomach turning sideways and upside down all at once. The farmboy had never done drugs in his life but he could have sworn that Dane was a drug in himself. From the way his lips moved so effortlessly against his own, their own form of dance as they worked against one another in the near quiet of the barn. How his body was fit so easily against his own as if made to be there, how the man had his hands tangled in the mess of his brown locks pulling him close as if they weren't already pressed against each other with no space between them. It was almost impossible to get any closer.
Almost, because Kit moved one of his hands until it was sat on Dane's thigh. His strong hand squeezed harshly before he hiked it up, allowing himself to slot between the man's leg as the leg now off the ground was wrapped around his waist, keeping him there in a proper trap. Kit's hand moved back to that delectable ass not moments later now that he was where he wanted to be- completely pressed up against him. Hips pressed against one another, chests flush as their lips moved over and over with only the smallest break to allow the two men to breathe. Oh, how he wished he didn't have to breathe. He didn't want his lips to ever separate from Dane's. Each time they did he knew that their lips were growing swollen from the hash passion from the heated kiss and Kit loved every moment of it. Perfect. Utterly perfect.
The hand on Dane's waist moved until his fingers danced at the edges of the cowboy's jeans as Kit gently bit down on the other's lip. He tasted so wonderful, and Kit wanted nothing more than to draw more of those sounds out of the man. He wanted the whole barn to be filled with them. Being with a man was not something he had done before, but the rhythm was easy, and Dane was delicious and it was natural with him. Even though he didn't know what he was doing, his body seemed to have a mind of its own as his tongue danced on the other's lips and slightly begged for entrance.
In tune and entirely sensing what he wants, Dane allows Kit access to his mouth, relishing in the searing emotion of it all. God, god, god, he hopes that this isn't all a mistake. That it isn't some spur of the moment impulse that they'll both regret the next morning. They're moving in sync, in such a fashion that is brand new to even Dane. Of all his partners in the past, he can't think of anyone nearly as naive and driven as the farmboy pushing right into him. The next thing he knows, Dane has his long legs wrapped tightly around Kit's waist, entirely held up by just the angel's strength and if that isn't a total turn-on, Dane doesn't know what could be. Dane can feel it escalating, can feel it building and building to only one sort of logical option–which, against his will, causes Dane's brain cells to actually kick in.
Dane has to pull back one more time just to hold Kit's face and look deeply into his beautiful eyes. Both of their lips are swollen, faces flushed with some kiss-drunk stupor. His back is against the wall, the angel's fingers are toying at the hem of his jeans. "Angel, I gotta ask if this is something ya' really want," he mutters, voice husk. His heart (and libido) pain to admit it, but Dane knows his limits. At least when it comes to this sort of thing."I can't… I can't go with you to the next step when I'm in this state." After all, his stitches popping open during sex would clearly be a mood-killer. Unless–no. No way. Dane highly doubts the farmboy who talks to cows in his free time would be one into that sort of thing. "We can later, but not now, alright?" He kisses the corner of Kit's mouth, then moves to kiss him fully. As much as he would love for Kit to absolutely pound him into the hayloft (or the other way around, Dane's flexible), Dane also does not want to bleed out up there.
He moves his hands from the back of Kit's neck to hold his biceps, trying to stop his mind from wandering to such filthy places, but it's quite hard to granted their current predicament. The tension is so tight that it's almost painful and Dane… well, he would hate to disappoint. "Or…" he mumbles, pressing his lips against Kit's ear. He speaks quietly, barely able to be heard over his own thundering heart. "If ya' really want to, we can always be real gentle."
The kiss caused Kit's heart to face faster than it had ever done in his entire life. Father than a rodeo. Faster than chasing a herd of stray sheep into their pens in the middle of the night to prevent them being eaten by foxes or hounds and ruining his hard work. Dane caused his heart to beat far quicker above it all. Ever since the man had fallen into his life by some sheer miracle of God the other night he had been functioning at a million miles an hour and there was hardly anything to slow him down apart from Dane himself. It was entirely contradictory and stupid and Lord knows what Kit was doing.
For fucks sake, he was a farm boy. A man who had spent his entire life growing up with hay in his hair and dirt under his nails barely getting into fights or problems that weren't caused by his father. He had had barely one relationship in his life and had no idea what he was doing with a man who had spent the best part of his life running from the law. What was he thinking? Had he gone crazy? Kit had always longed for an adventure or for something interesting to appear in his life and one had finally turned up on his doorstep in the form of a man with an addictive taste and someone who had more stories than Kit would ever have in his entire life. He would never got off this farm, Kit had given up that hope long ago, and yet here was a man who had travelled more of the land then he would get to see, a man who he was holding up against a post in his barn, a man who he was kissing and ready to take there even though it was a bad idea.
Thank God Dane pulled away in that moment. As much as he pained to admit it, the cowboy was right. Kit wasn't about to risk him popping a stitch when he had already had to do so twice. Explaining to his mother why they were back at the house doing so again was not something he wanted on his to do list. Certainly not. Clara would have a field day if she found out what her son had done with a man he had just met, and a man of all people. Sighing, Kit rested his forehead against Dane's, "Ya right, we shouldn't," He replied, "No 'ere, and I ain't riskin' you poppin' a stitch 'cus-a me."
