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Farm-work this, mining trip that, Alex has heard it all, and he’s tired of it. Listen- he understands the stress the Farmer is under, winter being right around the corner, but he wishes he’d just take a break. Alex tries to help him out too, but everytime the Farmer just holds up a hand and tells him to ‘not worry his pretty little head’ about it, and hauls fire wood, feed bags, and the mountains of fresh crops all by himself.
It’s now been roughly a week, give or take, since the two have had the time to get intimate. The leading cause being that instead of just letting Alex help out here and there, his boyfriend over works himself and then passes out on their couch at an ungodly hour most nights.
Tonight however, It’s different.
“I'm home!” A voice calls from the doorway, the tapping of shoes shaking away stuck dirt and mud muffled over the sound of roaring winds outside. Alex perks up and sets down the knife he was using to prepare dinner, and turns to face a figure a few inches shorter than himself.
“You’re back early, how’d your day go?” He hums, the surprise on his face lingering.
The man previously still stood in their doorway, taking his thick coat off, is now plopping down on the green plush couch complimenting the darker browns and greens their living room is harbouring, head back, eyes closed and a sour look on his face.
“It was ok, tiring, but ok. The water trough in the chicken coop has a leak, normally I’d have it fixed immediately but Robin’s taking a couple days off so now I gotta wait and hope it doesn’t damage anything too bad.” He eventually responds, running a still dirty hand down his face.
Alex resumes cooking, adding freshly chopped vegetables into a pot.Even if he wanted to stop himself, he wouldn’t be able to, the words he’s been holding in come stumbling out, his face flushed pink. “Maybe I could help you.. decompress.”
The Farmer shoots a wide eyed look his way, his face also flushed and mouth agape. Throughout their relationship, as surprising as it sounds, Alex has initiated moments that leave them both out of breath and and spent maybe a handful of times. The Farmer often picking up on the signs and leading them into their shared bedroom first.
So to say he was shocked was an understatement. His perplexed expression fades and is instead replaced by something else, something hungrier as he speaks in a low and hushed tone, “I’d like that very much.”
The next hour of their lives is agony. It’s like they’ve just started dating again despite being married.
They steal glances at each other and when one of them is caught staring, they flush pink and whip their heads in the other direction. Dinner is a whole other level of awkward, they sip at the soup Alex made, avoiding eye contact as much as possible, the only time they exchange words is when the Farmer asks if Alex is finished so he can clean up their dishes.
Time merges together, the sky outside is pitch black when The Farmer starts closing the curtains downstairs, Alex nowhere to be seen, probably waiting for him in bed by now. A warm and fluttery feeling builds in his lower abdomen at the thought. He should shower before him and Alex do anything though, his clothes stink of sweat and rain, and what little skin is showing is covered in dried dirt and grime.
Upstairs, Alex is five steps ahead, already showered, water dripping from his still damp hair, wearing only a pair of sweatpants and laid in bed scrolling on his phone, trying to distract himself, heart beating so loud he can both feel and hear the thump thump thump.
At some point his husband enters the room and grabs some clean clothes, probably says he’s going to be back soon, but Alex is too distracted to fully register his presence. What seems like seconds to him, must be minutes in reality as the man returns moments later, clean and wearing a towel around his waist, upper body bare and the neat thin scars across his muscled chest on show. “Figured it would be pointless to get dressed,” His husband sets the clean clothes back into his side of their closet. “Staring won’t magically make the towel drop, y'know."
Alex flushes red at that, body heating up at the sight. “Sorry.” Is all he can say, hesitating for a second before sitting up and offering a hand to the Farmer. He smirks and takes it, crawling onto the bed, then crawling a bit further until he’s straddling Alex’s thighs. He has nice thighs, the Farmer finds himself thinking, like he does every time he sees, or in this case, feels them.
Just barely hovering above them like this, he’s taller than Alex. He stares down into those deep emerald eyes, that familiar fluttery feeling building back up from earlier.
He reaches a hand up, feather light with his touch and uses his fingertips under Alex’s jaw to bring his head up higher. The first kiss is gentle and warm, but Alex can’t shake the feeling of underlying danger behind it. The once loose sweatpants start to feel tighter with every second they don’t break the kiss.
That underlying danger shows itself right away with another hand creeping up and towards his neck, he can feel his hair stand up straight, and the hand teasing the short, barely there hairs sticking up at the back of his neck feels electric in the best way possible.
Where most kisses would continue and deepen, this one ends with a wet tongue licking across his lips. The two men are gasping and breathing heavily, the arousal no doubt hitting them like a train by this point. With Alex It’s obvious if the tent in his pants is anything to go by.
The Farmer catches his breath first, leaning down and giving Alex’s jaw a rough kiss, licking over the spot, and moving lower down, down, down.
Through the foggy feeling of his brain after such an intoxicating kiss, he does get the hint and tilt his head to the side, giving the Farmer more room to work with.
He doesn’t get much time to recover though, the sharp canines of his lover adding pressure to red, spit soaked skin. Alex, honest to god, whimpers at the feeling, shivering at the sparks of arousal that continue to shoot through him. He can feel his husband's lips turn upwards in a smirk, hears him huff out a laugh. Fucker is enjoying this, isn’t he?
He doesn’t realise his own hands wandered over to perch on, and grip tightly at his hips at every suck, kiss, lick, and bite the Farmer gives him until he feels them being moved down to rest on the old, slightly scratchy, towel that covers his ass.
He receives a harsh suck at the most sensitive part of his neck, right above his collarbone, a warm wet mouth nibbling at the spot, tongue darting out to softly ease away any pain, and then bites down. Alex can’t, and doesn’t, stop himself from groping his lover hard, a broken, choked out moan escaping him at the overwhelming feeling. The Farmer lets out some sounds of his own, groaning around the skin of his partner's neck and sloppily kissing at it, being much more gentle, giving one last light suck and stopping.
He must look feral like this, spit dripping down the sides of his mouth, upper body flushed, nipples hardened, eyes blown wide. Alex looks pretty much the same, though without the spit and while the Farmers skin has small bruises from doing whatever he has been this past week, Alex looks like he got into a fight with a vacuum and lost.
He feels a lot more confident now, wanting to please his lover too rather than focus on his own pleasure. He leaves a hand on ass, and takes the other to the Farmers nape. Time to remind him who’s stronger. Alex pulls his head up and takes his lips into an aggressive, open mouthed kiss, pulls him in closer with the hand still gripped into the towel so that he’s hovering just above his clothed cock, feeling pre-cum build up at the tip.
The Farmer takes this as a challenge, and also pulls Alex into the kiss, his own hand moving up from his neck and resting in his hair, tugging on it. The one that was once resting on his jaw is tracing over the red-purple hickeys littered just above his collarbone and sneaks down to his pecs, grazing over a perked nipple.
The reaction is instant, a jump of his hips, trying to rut against him and get some kind of friction on his achingly hard, leaking cock, a stuttered moan swallowed down by a particularly rough kiss, then a bite on his bottom lip. It takes a moment for Alex to get his composure and get back at his lover, pushing him down to sit fully on his thighs and the desperate bulge strained against his sweatpants.
There’s something animalistic and deadly with how they’re making out. Teeth clash, saliva dribbles down the sides of their mouths, tongues go as deep as they can, then intertwine and fight for the upper hand. They don’t stop. Breathing in through their noses and exhaling when they sigh or moan.
A couple minutes must go by and the Farmer pulls back panting. His lips are swollen, Alex’s can’t look much better.
The Farmer is shaking above him, and for a moment Alex thinks he’s done something wrong, but his eyes catch the problem. The Farmer, throughout all this, has discreetly been grinding his soaked cunt against the towel tied around his waist (how it’s stayed on this long is truly a mystery), and looks close to reaching his high. The towel must’ve been too thick for Alex to feel or notice sooner.
This time it's Alex’s time to smirk, and smirk he does. His voice momentarily shocks him, raspier and breathier than he expected. “Couldn’t wait for it?” He coos.
When he gets no real answer other than another rock of the hips, shudder, and delicious pleading look in his lover’s eyes, Alex starts untucking the towel, making a show of peeling it away. It’s clear the Farmer is embarrassed he got caught, but who could blame him? It’s been a week! He thinks to himself, a week too long.
The Farmer runs his hands down Alex’s sides, teasing the waistband of the sweatpants he’s wearing. His fingers slip inside, thumbs resting on the outside, helping him tug the pants down. He’s pleasantly surprised when he finds that Alex isn’t wearing anything underneath them, dick springing free from the confines of the sweatpants.
The Farmer notices at that moment as he’s looking down that he’s also bare. The towel he was wearing now thrown somewhere across the room, his perked prick peeking out from slick folds. The temperature change makes the both of them shiver, mildly cold air making their cocks twitch.
His lover’s embarrassed expression changes when he looks up at Alex, a mischievous glint in his wide eyes, and grinds the sensitive nub down onto the leaking, hard length of Alex’s cock, catching the tip of it and rolling his hips in desperate little circles. They let out a groan, the pleasure explosive, especially for Alex, having no direct contact like this yet.
Squelch, squelch, squelch, the sound echoes around them, only making the need for release stronger.
The Farmer, having been working himself up the entire time, comes first with the help of Alex’s skilled fingertips nudging against his cock as he stroked his own between them, thrusting up every so often to coat himself in the Farmers warm slick.
He comes not too long after, shuddering with every stroke, his husband bringing a hand down to spread himself out and press his pulsing hole down to his tip.
The Farmer moves first, climbing off of his partner and laying beside him, tugging on Alex’s sweatpants, waiting til he raises his hips up so he can get them off the rest of the way and drop them somewhere on the floor.
He thinks for a moment, brows furrowed, and sees that despite cumming, Alex is still hard. His own cock twitches in interest. Alex must sense this, and looks over just in time to see him sit back up. “Get my strap?” He asks innocently, voice honey sweet, eyelashes fluttering.
Suddenly, Alex leaps off of the bed, a rushed “Yessir” leaving his mouth, looking for the small box they keep hidden in the back of their closet. The Farmer silently giggles at this and crawls toward his side of the bed, rummaging around the bedside-table drawer for the small bottle of lube they keep.
The shift of their attitudes are immediate, Alex holds out the box in his hands, face gleaming, and the Farmer finds himself smiling at how eager his partner looks. Now, him topping isn’t something new, or rare even, oh no, but Alex always acts like It’ll be the first and last time everytime. The Farmer doesn’t blame him for that, or make him feel bad for thinking so, since he recalls the conversation they had when the topic of Alex being the one receiving came up, and Alex explained that he thought it was expected, and wanted of him, to always be the one in control.
Obviously he then told Alex that if that’s what he wanted, he was fine with it, but if he ever wanted to experiment during sex he wouldn’t make him feel bad about it.
He smiles fondly when he’s then reminded of the first time he fucked Alex, but gets dragged out of those memories when he’s met with those deep viridian eyes waiting patiently.
He takes the box from his partner, opens it and gets off the bed so he can put the harness of the strap on, the fake dick that matches his skin perfectly still sitting in the box. The harness fits comfortably around his inner thighs and under the plush of his ass, wrapping around, there's another strap of fabric that goes over his lower,
lower stomach, and a ring in the middle of the harness right where the mound of his pussy is, his red hot prick peeking out near the top, also where the ring is.
It's not the most attractive thing, but gets the job done and admittedly he does feel good in it, whether that be when he has his husband bent over, or when he’s wearing it just because, he undeniably feels much more confident and comfortable with himself.
When he turns to where Alex sits he has this look of awe and want, hungry but loving. He won’t have him wait any longer. “Prep yourself for me.” He says, tone authoritative and low as he climbs back onto the bed, legs spread, attaching the fake cock onto the harness. The small box sat down on one of their bedside tables.
Alex wastes no time, he grabs the lube and squirts some onto his fingers, leaning slightly forward and teasing himself, circling his slicked up fingers around the rim. The Farmer tuts at this, “Face the headboard.” Alex obediently does so, and gasps when he feels himself get pushed forwards, face in their pillows, laying on his belly.
He looks back, face getting hot at the sight. His husband is sitting behind him, his fake dick just inches away from his ass. His lover sees his confusion and raises an eyebrow, head cocked to the side, “What? Can’t watch you enjoy yourself?”
He murmurs something into the pillow next to him. “What was that?” Alex presses his face further into the pillows, murmurs the same words again. The tips of his ears are burning, but the Farmer doesn’t take that as an answer, he leans over Alex and runs a hand through his hair, then tugs on it so his face isn’t buried anymore.
A mix of a pained and pleasured moan leaves Alex. “You were being so good just now,” he leans further down so that his dick brushes Alex’s ass, “be a good boy and repeat yourself. Clearly.”
He doesn’t let up pulling his husbands hair, and ruts his dick against Alex, the phantom sensation heavenly.
“It’s embarrasing..” He finally spits out, neck a million shades darker than when they first started, the love bites getting darker too.
The Farmer gently releases his hair, letting his head melt into the pillows again. He rubs at his scalp and twirls his hair around his finger. “You can go as slow as you like. Remember the word? You can say it at any time and we can stop. Just like that.”
They stay like that for a while, the Farmer praising Alex, playing with his hair, holding him close. Soon enough, Alex raises his head up and asks for the lube.
The Farmer helps him squirt it on his fingers and sits back up to watch the show.
Alex puts on a performance of circling a slick finger around the rim, pushing a fingertip in and out, in and out. He manages to push his finger to the first knuckle, whining at the feeling. It doesn’t take long before he fits his middle and ring fingers in him, still at the first knuckle, but it’s an improvement. He can hear his lover’s breathing grow heavier the longer he teases himself like this, his body buzzing in anticipation.
Lightly thrusting his fingers in and out again, he works on getting them deeper than before, feeling slick lube getting poured directly on his hole. He shivers at the cold feeling and tackiness but can’t deny it helps.
Meanwhile, the Farmer is watching him with dark eyes, zeroed in on his tight pucker, only growing wetter at the sight and occasional moan or whine Alex lets slip.
Alex starts to scissor his fingers when he reaches the second knuckle, the stream of moans that get punched out of him fuel the Farmer more, and he can’t help but start stroking the silicone dick, loving the way it almost feels real, his brain not comprehending its not connected to his body. He lets out quiet yet audible grunts.
He’s bought back to earth when he hears Alex moaning high pitched and needy, eyes locking back to his ass and finding that he can fully fit two fingers inside, Alex is thrusting them into himself fast, stretching himself out when hes about halfway in, sometimes between the thrusts he completely takes his fingers out and teases his sensitive rim again, letting his hole clench and gape over nothing.
It takes everything in the Farmer to not come on the spot at that. His tongue darts out to lick at his dry lips, eyes dark, holding back the impulse to completely ravage Alex. He instead opts for running a hand up his back and playing with his hair again, then running it back down and finally letting it rest on Alex’s hip, rubbing circles into it. The gesture has Alex singing out a mewling moan and adding a third finger, the burn not as painful anymore, more pleasurable than anything.
It slips in with ease, his lover notices, and uses his free hand to circle his rim for him. That has Alex arching from the bed, body not knowing if it should lean into the touch or run away. It settles on leaning into the touch in the end, Alex turning into a moany, whiney mess. His lover's fingertip catches on his gaping hole when he thrusts in just deep enough to feel him brush against his prostate, his body jolts and his throat lets out the loudest moan of the night yet. “-Aah!”
“Does it feel good baby? Tell me how it feels, tell me everything.” He’s back to leaning over his partner, whispering in his ear.
“-Feels, hah, so good! You make me feel so good. I love you, mph! Need you, need you right now.” The words spill forth, utterly lost in the sweet way his Farmer speaks to him, melting into his touch, giving himself entirely. He thinks he feels himself tearing up, but his mind is too focused on the feather light touches on his hole.
“Shit,” He hears his Farmer swear over the roar of blood in his ears, “Need you too, so bad.” There's warm lips speaking just above his nape, breath tickling the little hairs that stand there.
Next thing he knows, his fingers are getting eased out of him by a strong calloused hand, replaced with the dull slick head of his lover’s cock resting on his hole.
“You ready?” It's said so lovingly, so raw, it makes Alex burst into tears.
“Yes,” He chokes out, voice cracking. The next thing he feels is the dull stretch and burn of his husband's cock entering him with snail like speed, letting him get used to each inch. After all these years, his Farmer still keeps his promise. “I will go as slow as you need,” he recalls, “If we’re going to be spending a lifetime together, I want you to feel loved every second of every day, no matter what we’re doing.”
I could not feel more loved right now. He thinks, and as he turns back to see his lover’s, his soulmates, face his heart aches at how careful he’s being. His Farmer trails his hands up and down, kisses over his moles, and trails them back up his back. He moans out when he’s flush with his ass, getting used to having the full length inside him, not daring to look away from his Farmer’s face. The burn gradually subsides and Alex finds himself feeling desperate as ever.
They make eye contact, a silent ‘I love you’ felt between the two of them. Alex nods once, face crumbling into something sinful when his Farmer’s cock jerks right into his prostate. He continues to ram into that bundle of nerves, thrusting his hips forward, backward, forward. Alex moans out everytime, his voice singing out little “Ah! Ah! Aah!”s, only getting louder when a hand shoves his face into the pillows.
“The whole town will hear you at this point, Mmh-, keep it down for me baby, ‘kay?”
Alex responds with a needy, drawnout “Mmm!” muffled by the pillows below. God he loves this kind of play, being tunnelled out by his husband’s cock and being forced to keep quiet, he wouldn’t trade the world for it. His husband clearly got off on it too, if the slick sheen of his inner thighs is anything to go by.
Though their shared kink does play a part, and just being close to Alex in general gets him hot and bothered most of the time, the way his fake dick rubs and bumps against his perked cock also plays a massive part as to why he’s as wet as he is.
With every hard thrust aimed at his partners, his lifelines, prostate he receives as much pleasure as he gives. And it’s starting to affect him too, his thrusts are more frantic, not as much thought put behind them as he tries to reach his high.
Alex is in the same boat, he’s starting to get overwhelmed, the ache of not cumming yet and needing that extra push turning his brain to mush.
He reaches a hand down to jerk himself off, get some kind of release, but gets stopped by the Farmer grabbing his wrist, then collecting his other, supporting himself with just the hand that still grips Alex’s hip, the red imprint of it marking him up more.
“Let me make you feel good.” His soulmate slurs, drunk on lust.
He raises Alex’s ass higher, the wrists in his hand pulling them behind his own back, trapping them in a deadly grip. He sighs in between a moan when a hand starts to jerk him off, the man above him leaning down on him, groaning and grunting in his ear with every short and fast thrust he gives, both of his hips and wrist.
His lifeline cums first, choppy moans muffled by pillows and thrusting into his wrist as he’s coming down from his climax. Then the Farmer cums, he isn’t as vocal, but his body makes up for it with his pulsing cunt squeezing out more slick arousal, cock rubbing the fake dick just right, thighs shaking like he’s just ridden at a rodeo, boneless and worn out, then finally his entire body feeling the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm, electric buzzing under his skin and deep in his bones.
They collapse, the Farmer still inside Alex as they spoon. After such an intense session of love making, they would normally just pass out and deal with the mess later, however the sheets are beyond saving. Dried and still wet patches of pre-cum, cum, lube and slick stain the dark covers.
“Next time I’ll just eat you out, won’t be as messy.” The Farmer tiredly mumbles, tracing over the moles and freckles on Alex’s nape. For what feels like the hundredth time this night, his ears burn bright red, a hushed “You can't just say that!” leaving his mouth.
An eternity passes in what is really ten minutes, Alex, the more physically capable of the two right now, stumbles off the bed and drags his lover into his arms, helping him stand (letting him lean fully on him) and guiding him to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Alex leaves him sitting on the toilet seat while he limps down to the kitchen, filling up a water bottle and carrying some chocolates for them to share before passing out for what will be hours to come.
He sets the bottle and chocolates down on his night stand, making quick work of stripping their bed and throwing the dirty sheets into a laundry basket they keep right outside the bathroom door. He takes the chance to glance inside, seeing his husband discard his strap and harness, setting them on the side of the bathroom sink to be dealt with later.
Alex figures he’ll need a while to process what they had done, and leaves him for a while longer, fighting with the hell that was the king sized fitted sheet. A stuttered voice calls for him once he’s done changing their sheet, and he helps his husband back into their bedroom, getting him comfortable under the covers, leaving again for a few minutes to clean himself up too, then finally, finally, crawling into bed and holding his lover close.
Their legs intertwine, arms wrap around each other in a final embrace as the clock strikes two in the morning.