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Literal walls of rain poured down from the sky.
Storm clouds have been gathering for several hours now, leaving no one doubtful about the eventual downpour.
Thunder roared in the sky, lightening the way for just a second. Poor Boaz got spooked, started to angrily kick his legs in an attempt to buck Javier off. Javier shushed him and muttered a few words of comfort. One look over his shoulder told him that John and Old Boy weren't faring much better.
They continued onwards, instinctively moving towards the lights in the distance, suggesting they were nearing a town.
The dirt road turned into cobblestone pavement, hooves not splashing the mud anymore, instead clicking against the stone. Javier searched the buildings for a sign that would say anything about rooming, but the rain was so thick he could barely even see Boaz's ears.
John stopped at the side of the road, hitching Old Boy and going inside a building. Javier took it as a sign to urge his horse to the back.
They've done it hundreds of times now. John would go book a room for a night for just one person, and Javier would climb up the window to join him.
He hitched Boaz in front of a saloon and searched the windows for a sign of John, wondering out of which one he would emerge.
He stood in the empty road, the dirt and mud already washed off from his clothes along with the rain, leaving him soaked instead. He mulled over their words. They fought earlier. John's words still stung deep inside his chest, and his own still felt wrong on his tongue. It started raining as they were grabbing at each other's clothes, waiting for the other to throw a punch, only seeing each other when a thunder rolled in the sky, and soon the downpour was so loud that they couldn't even hear themselves screaming at each other.
He was beginning to wonder if John had any plan of letting him in. He wouldn't put it past him to be this petty, letting Javier soak on the street.
A window opened, John's head leaned out of it, searching Javier, and it was all he needed. He stood on the railing, and grabbed onto the rain chute, testing if it was strong enough to hold his weight first. He climbed up and John's hands reached out for him, one grabbing his hand, the other tugging at his shirt.
He leaned down to enter through the window, boots leaving a wet squelch where they hit the ground. The rainwater immediately began dripping down to the wooden floor, but he could see it didn't matter much, as John himself had left a trail of wet bootprints leading from the entrance to the window.
John closed the window behind him and moved to search for something in his satchel. Javier had a feeling this was more of a nervous toying, not knowing what to do with himself, than actually needing something from it.
Usually they would be at each other's mouths by now, kissing like nothing else existed. It wasn't often when they got a real bed for their disposition, so they would use it as much as they could.
But they both were still wounded. And they both knew they wounded the other.
Aside from the main door, there was another one in the room. Javier walked over to it and swung it open. A small room with not much other than a bathtub. John knew Javier liked to feel clean, as opposed to the majority of men in camp. Whenever there was an option, he paid a little extra for a room with a bathroom, just for Javier.
Javier smiled despite himself.
He entered the bathroom, boots still uncomfortably squelching, spurs clicking. He didn't close the door all the way, just enough that it left an open invitation, just enough that it didn't have to mean anything.
He took off the boots and grimaced when water actually poured out of it. The vest and the shirt were next, both of them uncomfortably peeling from his body. He wrung them over the floor and frowned at the thought of having to put them on tomorrow morning still damp. He tried to hang them on the windowsill so they dried at least a little anyway. Pants and socks weren't any better, just as his union suit. Not a single dry stitch was left.
He stepped into the warm water and suddenly felt how cold the rain was. He let his body relax. A hand moved to his hair, untying the hair tie and letting it fall on his shoulders, sticking to the skin. He dipped his head down, letting the hum of water instead of thoughts fill his brain. He resurfaced only when he lost his breath, panting slightly. He moved to brush his hair as much as he could with his fingers, scraping against his scalp and undoing all the knots.
The door creaked and he didn't need to turn towards it. Another pair of boots stepped inside, before sounds of dropping wet clothes on the floor. John walked over to the bathtub, and Javier curled his legs to give him space. It was a tight squeeze, a bathtub definitely not made for two. Water splashed and spilled down to wet the already moldy wooden floor as John sat down. Javier extended his legs again, feeling the warmth radiating from John's body.
A hand grabbed his ankle. A simple touch he didn't expect but felt so good anyway. John stroked his thumb over the skin. They sat in this silence for a while, only broken by an occasional thunder still raging outside.
The hand left his ankle and Javier found himself pathetically missing the feeling. John leaned down towards him, reaching for his hair. A silent question. Javier leaned in too.
Dingy hotels didn't always have soap. If you didn't have your own, all you'd get was a bathtub of water. Unfortunately Javier didn't think this through and his only bar was left in Boaz's saddlebag. Just water will have to do.
John cupped some water in his hands and poured it down Javier's hair. He ran his fingers through it delicately, nails scraping against the scalp and massaging it gently. He moved to tuck the astray strands sticking to his cheeks behind his ears and repeated the process. Javier closed his eyes and let himself bask in the feeling of having someone brush his hair for him.
The hands slowly moved downwards, scrubbing at his arms, chest. They dipped under the water to scrub against his legs too.
Javier tugged at John's hair, urging him downwards. John was reluctant, the fear of being submerged still strong. Javier moved his hand to cup his face, a reassurance, and tried to tip him back and push down again. He went this time. John's eyes were squeezed shut, in fear or anticipation, but Javier didn't let his face submerge. He dipped him down just enough so that his hair got wet all the way to his hairline before dragging him back up. He moved his fingers through the thick strands of hair, trying to wash as much grease as possible with just water and untangling knots that have never seen a hairbrush.
He leaned down closer, John's breath hot on his cheek. Javier risked, placing his temple on John's shoulder, breathing in his scent. He wasn't pushed away. He moved to press his face where his neck met the shoulder and kissed it gently. He felt John's face on the side of his head, pressing his lips to the shell of Javier's ear. Not proper apologies, never with them, but as close as they would get to one.
Javier moved his lips lower, leaving a trail of soft, closed-mouthed kisses over collarbones and pecs, feeling his chin submerge in the bathwater. He rose and finally met John's gaze, the eyes mirroring the same apologetic guilt that Javier felt deep down in his gut.
They kissed, slowly, gently. Javier let his hands wander over John's body, the same way John did to him earlier. He felt his broad shoulders and small waist. He counted the vertebrae in his spine, fingers trailed each rib. He broke the kiss, a puff of air left John's lips in protest. His lips wandered down again, kissing at the stubble forming in John's jawline, at Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, the hollow of his collarbones. He moved his hands down, to grab at John's thighs, spreading them open. A hand brushed over his cock and John jerked in his place, letting out a soft gasp. The kisses he started leaving became faster, more heated. Still not bruising, still not leaving marks, still a silent apology.
His chin reached the water surface again and Javier took a deep breath before diving his head down. The low hum of the water filled his ears again. He let his eyes adjust for a second before opening them and dipping down again, his back stretched in an uncomfortable position. He grabbed John's half hard cock and swallowed it with ease. He heard a muffled yelp somewhere above him and there was a hand in his hair again, tugging him up. He went with it, blinking the water off from his eyes and taking a breath.
John moved the hand from the hair to cup his cheek and held his gaze. His eyebrows were pinched and eyes filled with concern. Are you sure? they said.
Javier grabbed the hand and kissed the heel of his palm. I know what I'm doing.
He moved his legs to sit at his heels instead and with another deep breath he dived down again. He found his way between John's thighs, opening his mouth, tasting the water. He took the tip inside, licking on it and sucking as much as he could with a mouthful of water.
The hand was again in his hair. It didn't pull him off this time. Didn't push him further or kept him under the water either. Just brushed the fingers against the locks and petted him. More to ground himself than anything else.
Javier sunk down further, suddenly regretting the fact all sounds were muffled by the water. He traced his tongue along the length, feeling veins under it, and started bobbing his head, delighting with the way the grip on his hair tightened. He let out a low hum, feeling the last of the air escape along with it and retraced his head to resurface. The hand in his hair left, as if afraid of drowning him.
He met John's gaze again, the same concern still painted, except now mixed with lust. John swallowed and Javier dipped down.
The hand didn't rest on his head anymore. Javier felt disappointed at that. It moved to his back instead, working slow circles.
Javier found his cock again, now fully hard and continued his work. He ground himself by gripping John's hips and tried taking him all the way, repressing a gag. His nose hit the soft skin of John's stomach and he continued sucking, hollowing his cheeks and trying to swallow around him to get rid of the bath water. John's hips jerked, the cock hitting the back of Javier's throat, making him gag and instinctively resurfacing. He coughed in his fist, hearing John whispering apologies and shook his head, tracing his fingers along John's sides in reassurance.
He regained his breath and dived down under the water. He didn't take the cock as deep anymore, stayed at a safe distance, bobbing his head slightly and moving his hand to stroke him where his mouth didn't reach. The hand at his back tightened its grip and scratched against his back, leaving the feeling of burning.
Javier closed his eyes, shutting off everything else and focusing on the feeling of having a cock in his mouth. The droning of water was making his brain feel fuzzy, like nothing else other than the man underneath him existed.
He resurfaced to take a breath another few times, growing more desperate and feeling John the same with each time, taking a deep breath and diving down again. He got used to the water obstructing the way by now, able to work John despite it. The low tremble of thighs between his head was telling him that John was close. He tried to sink down a little further, take him a little deeper, grip on his hip growing tighter. He started bobbing his head again, moving his tongue along with the movement and was rewarded with another flurry of muffled sounds. He was beginning to feel slightly lightheaded from the lack of air but he was nothing if not determined and he didn't want to stop when John was so close. The hands at his back have now gripped his shoulders, leaving painful bruises under them. John came with another moan, his come hitting Javier's throat and he felt he couldn't take it anymore so he retraced his head, swallowing the bathwater mixed with what John had shot into his mouth before he backtracked, hand immediately going to stroke him through it as he caught his breath over the surface.
John's cock softened in his grip and Javier let it fall in the water. They panted for a while, eyes closed, faces close yet not touching. It was John who regained consciousness first, moving his hand down to stroke Javier's neglected cock. He whimpered and hid his face in John's neck, hands tucked under his arms and gripping on his shoulders.
John sped up the movement, water slicking the movement and preventing him from going faster. It splashed with every movement of his arm, droplets falling on both of them, and pooling at the floor. Javier let his eyes close, breathing in John's smell, letting out soft sounds every now and then.
He came soon after, burying his head in John's neck, fingers tightening on his shoulders. John stroked him through it and when Javier hissed in protest, he let go of his cock and moved his hand back to his spine, petting it slowly.
The silence was no longer disrupted by thunderstorms. The tapping of rain against the window has weakened also.
Javier cringed as he realised that they were basically sitting in their own spend and untangled himself from John to get out. He grabbed the only towel in the bathroom and dried himself haphazardly, waiting for John to leave the bathtub. He moved to dry John off, scrubbing at his hair to try and remove the excess water, before moving down, over his torso and to his legs. He dropped the now soaked towel on the ground and walked out of the bathroom, hearing John's footsteps behind him.
The bedsheets were far from new but they were clean enough and Javier was really tired. He climbed into the small bed, a tight squeeze for two grown men, but they always managed. John hovered over him, looking down, as if waiting for permission. Javier just spread his arms and waited for him to crawl into them. He threw the covers over the two of them, letting their legs tangle together.
John's face found its way to hide in his shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck. Javier pressed one to the crown of his head.
Not a proper apology, but as close as they could get to one.