#temp ranch srs tag

[strongofheart]

Your muscles are in knots. Better let me rub you down.” (ranch!srs???)

     kink memes.  accepting.  @ineveryvein

IT SHOULDN’T BE SO EASY to let reynold slide in behind him like that, to let those strong hands   d i g   into where his shoulders ache the worst, but   —   it is.  makes his heart pound and his stomach flutter, but it’s easy.  natural.  inevitable, perhaps, that this is what weeks of watching under the hot summer sun would come to: the insides of reyn’s thighs pressed to the outside of his, four long legs dangling off the end of his flatbed.  sweat dripping down the back of his neck until it meets reynold’s skin, the   p a u s e   before a thumb sweeps over it, and presses in.

time loses its meaning there.  could have spent seconds or hours with reynold’s hands on his back, slow and careful, working each knot out one by one until sam’s   ---   like hot butter in his arms, spine sunk into reynold’s chest, neck tilted back onto reynold’s shoulder.  could have spent seconds or hours just like that, breathing in sync, floating in the   ---   quiet acceptance of what this is   g o i n g   to be. 

could have been seconds or hours, but when their eyes finally meet, it’s   ---   only a matter of time before sam’s rising up, twisting, to press his mouth to reynold’s.  he tastes like COFFEE and the oranges from the sunday market, and he cups sam’s face in those endlessly talented hands, and   ---   forget seconds and hours, sam could do this for DAYS without stopping. 

in that delirious first kiss high, he half intends to, but a not-nearly-distant-enough “ REYNOLD? ” has them   t e a r i n g   apart. sam jerks back so hard he tumbles off the truck, lands on the grass with a thud and a pained groan, and the crunch of shoes on gravel speeds up until   --- 

    “ JESUS, sam, are you okay?  why are you .... ”

---   beautiful, impossible spencer makes her way around the vehicle and into view.  he can see the cogs falling into place as her voice drops off:  sam on his ass on the ground, their lips as kissed-pink as their flushed cheeks, both doing an   e q u a l l y   terrible job at covering their laps.  ( and there’d be a thrill there, that he has the same effect on reynold that reynold has on him, but   ---   SPENCER. )

reynold recovers first.  slides off the flatbed like the fucking sex god he is, says   “ did you need me for something, ma’am? ”   like her own cheeks aren’t darkening with the realisation of what she just interrupted, like it’s just any other day and they aren’t this   ---   this confusing, tangled web of  watching  and   w a n t i n g   and   d e n y i n g .  

how foolish of sam to think, even for a moment, that this was easy.  to think he could just   ...   HAVE reynold and the rest of it, the desire, the tension, would just   ...   disappear.  but god, the two of them standing together above him, they’re   ---   like his own personal, dangerously beautiful ticket to hell.

               how goddamn foolish.