#choices actions consequences two cowboy boogaloo. i guess.

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

Something like in Brokeback Mountain, when one of the cowboys tells the other to join them in the tent to escape the cold,

Cowboy au :)

<3

Maitland ranch. A week in heaven.

He's having a cigarette on the porch, since the last time he struck a match and lit up inside, Barbara had chased him out with a broom. He'd found it more funny than anything, but he wasn't about to risk the little lady's rath again, and so his smoke curls out from under the brim of his hat and dissipates in the cool night air. He can hear the gentle sound of sheep, the hill over, and the night is becoming darker and deeper. Colder. He takes another drag and blows smoke, and stares down at his gloved hands, considering. After a moment, he puts the finger tip of his left glove in his mouth, and uses it to pull off his glove.

The bare skin of his hand is the same flush of corpse tone as the rest of him. The familiar callouses on his hand stare up at him, evidence of a life of hard work. Apparently his death will be full of it, too. "Lawrence?" Barbara catches his attention. He blinks, and looks over at her, surprised she managed to get the drop on him. Just a few days here and he's already off his game. "Howdy, Mrs. Maitland," he smiles, flicking up his hat in a casual greeting. She smiles warmly, and comes to rest next to him, her back pressed to the porch railing, her shoulder touching his. He's not much taller than her. Maybe an inch or so. Maybe less, if he lost his boots. But he's tall enough he feels a little manly standing there. She wraps her shawl tighter around her shoulders, and she watches him. "You've been working so hard," she praises. "Are you tired?" "I don't tire easily," he can't help but infuse a little flirtation into his tone. She matches his smoldering gaze, bats her eyelashes at him in a distinctly feminine way. It makes his gut twist. "Good to know, cowboy."

Her hand finds his, the one missing its glove, and she starts. "Goodness, Lawrence. You're freezing. Come inside," she says. "And I'll warm you up."

He's seated in front of the fire in a moment. She drops the shawl from her shoulders to his, and he lets out a comfortable groan as he sinks down into the wicker backed chair. And to his shock, she settles in his lap. "Barbara?" he asks, unsure, and she wiggles in his lap to get comfortable, which has the added effect of stirring a flash of interest deep in his gut, and less poetically, in his jeans. He shifts slightly under her, embarrassed, but if she notices, she doesn't seem to care. She holds his cold hand in his, and dusts a few gentle kisses across his knuckles. "What do you think, cowboy?" she asks. "I think.. Your husband might not appreciate this whole set up," Beej says, voice tight. "Don't mind me," Adam says, coming into the living room, a book in his hand. He pauses besides them, bends down and kisses Barbara, and straightens up, to play affectionately with BJ's hair. "Barbara's a big girl. She knows what she wants. Do you?" And with a gentle kiss to BJ's cheek, Adam settles into a rocking chair by the fire, and cracks open his book. BJ looks down at Barbara. The dim glow of the fire in the hearth casts light and dark across her soft features, the flickering effect dancing on her long, golden hair. She looks unsure, for a moment, like maybe she thinks she's crossed a boundary with him. He leans down and kisses her. She gives a soft gasp of surprise, but pulls on his collared shirt, inviting him to deepen their kiss, and he does, hungry for her and her attention. His bare hand braces her, resting on her leg, and then he lifts it, going under her long skirts. The sensation of his cold skin on her's makes her yelp, and she laughs as he trails his fingers up her thighs. "Lawrence! You're cold!" she laughs, pushing slightly at him. His hand grips her inner thigh. "Thought you said you was gonna warm me up?" he asks, ducking low to kiss at her neck, his hat knocked to the ground by the action. She bites her lip and spreads her legs, just a little, just enough for his digits to tease her. The temperature of his finger tips sends a shock down her spine. "Oh," she huffs, gripping his shirt collar again. "That feels.." "How's he treating you, honey?" Adam asks, glancing up from his book. Barbara looks back at her husband. "He's good with his hands, Adam." He plays with her a while, her twisting slightly in his lap, the heat from her body warming his hand as he continues his teasing. The moment he feels slick enough, he slips a fat finger in, and then another. She reacts beautifully, making the prettiest little noise of pleasure as his deft hands work her further. The callouses he'd earned through hard work now seem to add an extra edge to the sensation for her. He explores her, and she clenches tight around him, and kisses at his face. He keeps her there for ages, and if his hand cramps from the work, he can't feel it, and she comes undone in his arms twice before he pulls those digits from her, and licks them clean. Her chest is heaving. Adam has been watching, enraptured. "Well," Barbara says, after her breathing evens out. "You really are a hard worker, Lawrence."