sweet sinner like you @peachystenbrough - Tumblr Blog

comin' home baby | rhett abbott x miles miller

description: in which a cowboy returns home after some time away, with a delightful surprise

w/c: 15,540 (i am so sorry. it's basically half plot half porn)

warnings: 18+ only, m/m relationship, references to miles being held hostage at the el royale, non descriptive mention of blood and injuries, brief reference to internalized homophobia, smut, dom/sub themes, miles has a beard kink, face riding, nipple play, anal sex, hyperspermia, sir kink, subspace

notes: i started writing this before lewis committed the ultimate sin of shaving his beard. think of this fic as a beard eulogy. but not to worry, it lives on in the rodeo royale universe. as long as miles can help it, that beard isn't going anywhere.

His love was coming home today.

The anticipation was nearly too much for Miles to bear. He had been busying himself all morning, attempting to distract himself with chores and various projects. There was an entire quilt that needed finishing, just waiting for him in his craft room.

Except, whenever he attempted to take a needle and thread to it, his hands shook. Not like they used to, when the tremors would wrack his body, before he met Rhett. No, this was a good kind of shake. Eagerness, excitement. He was antsy with joy that threatened to bubble out of him like water from a spring.

He felt like a kid on Christmas morning, giddy at the thought of opening presents. His present came wrapped up in a cowboy hat and flannel shirt. And oh, how he couldn’t wait to bury his face in that flannel and breathe in deep. The scent of Rhett. The scent of home.

After several long weeks, Miles would be able to hold Rhett in his arms again. All would be right with the world once again.

Rhett had taken a temporary job with a local cattle ranch, and he had been offered a generous sum of money to travel to their second operation over in Montana and fill in during a cattle drive, because the ranch was short-handed.

It had taken him away for nearly a month, leaving Miles to hold down the fort at home. He had his own responsibilities to tend to. His quilting business kept him busy, and he’d been selling baked goods at the farmer’s market on the weekends. There were many things to occupy his time, but even as he stayed busy, he continued to think about how much he missed his Rhett.

Usually, on market days, Rhett would be there with Miles, selling small, intricate figurines he had whittled out of wood. The Abbott-Miller booth was a popular one. Miles’ baked goods always sold out, Rhett’s wooden figures were always in high demand. And people loved the men responsible for creating the goods. The sweet, mild-mannered young man with the mysterious scars that decorated the left side of his face. The stoic cowboy who looked at that young man as if he’d hung the stars in the sky.

The elderly ladies that frequented the booth were the sweetest. And when Rhett suddenly stopped showing up to run the booth alongside Miles, they grew concerned.

“Where is that handsome husband of yours?” Asked Melinda, the kind old woman who was no bigger than five foot one, who always showed up early to snag Miles’ sourdough loaves before they sold out. Cranberry orange and jalapeño cheddar were her favorite.

“Oh, Rhett had to go out of town for work. He’ll be back soon!” Miles explained, as he handed her the individually wrapped loaves, branded with a sticker that read Rodeo Royale Baked Goods.

“Well you tell him I missed him! He needs to hurry on home, you look lost without him, you poor dear.”

Miles couldn’t help but smile softly at her, the apples of his cheeks dusting pink. “I’ll tell him. It’s definitely not the same without him here,” came his honest reply.

Their banter continued for a moment more, before Melinda soon moved on to another booth and the next customer stepped up to browse. Miles couldn’t hide his joy. How far he’d come, in the years since he’d first met his husband. From having spent so long keeping his attraction to men a secret, for fear of judgment from both God and man, to now living without fear, proud to show off his relationship.

Rhett had changed his life for the better. Miles would sing that from the rooftops to anyone who would listen.

Now that he was gone, albeit just for a few weeks, Miles felt like a limb was missing. He and Rhett worked together in all things. It was just how they operated best. Around the homestead, they usually weren’t far from one another. Rhett in the stable, feeding the horses. Miles at the adjacent chicken coop, feeding the chickens. Miles tending the garden, Rhett mending the corral fence a few feet away.

Always in each other’s orbit, gravitating toward one another, both intentionally and unintentionally.

Of course, Miles still functioned just fine without him. He could take care of their homestead and keep up with everything that needed done, but it still wasn’t the same without his cowboy. His company as of late had been their farm animals, and his elderly cat Matilda, who followed him around meowing up a storm, as if she knew he needed some company.

Some days, Miles would drive over to the Abbott ranch, where he would enjoy a morning cup of coffee, along with a slice of homemade bread and fresh jam, on the porch with Cecilia. He had developed a sweet bond with his mother-in-law, something he’d never had with his own mother. It was incredibly healing for him.

But even as he filled his days with activity and family visits, there was always that ache in his heart, that longing for Rhett’s return. And now, finally, he was coming home.

Miles had been bustling around all day. Baking Rhett’s favorite apple pie, preparing a slow simmering stew, ensuring the chores were done so he wouldn’t have to worry about them when he came home. Cleaning the house from top to bottom, fluffing the pillows on the bed, anything and everything to keep his mind occupied.

There was only so much he could do. With the pie cooling on the window sill, the floors swept, the house in tip-top shape, he was left with nothing else to distract himself with. So he curled up on the couch with a book. Matilda climbed into his lap, letting out one of her raspy little meows.

“Hey, old bird,” Miles cooed, reaching up to scratch her head. She chirped at him, curling up on his lap, where she proceeded to begin making biscuits against his thigh. His heart warmed at the sight, book set to the side in favor of showering the kitty in attention.

“You just as excited for Daddy to come home as I am?” He asked. She pushed her head more insistently into his hand as if to say yes.

Matilda loved Rhett, her favorite pastime being flopping down at his feet every time he walked, nearly causing him to trip. Miles couldn’t blame the old gal, he too would drop to Rhett’s feet constantly if he could.

Matilda had been in their lives for three years. Surrendered to Wabang’s only animal shelter because her aging owner could no longer care for her, Miles met her when he volunteered at the shelter for a special adoption event. No one wanted the scraggly looking elderly cat with health issues and missing teeth.

The poor thing was curled into the corner of her kennel, frightened and confused. It was only natural that Miles would be drawn to her. In a way, he saw himself in her. Scared, alone, traumatized. After all, that was how Rhett found him at the El Royale, what seemed like a lifetime ago.

Miles believed himself to be a lost cause. But Rhett saw something in him. Something worth saving. And that was what Miles saw when he looked upon that scared little cat.

He adopted her that day. It didn’t take much convincing. All he had to do was turn to Rhett and look at him with his big, wet eyes, and the cowboy was giving in with a soft sigh.

“You and your bleedin’ heart,” he fondly murmured.

Since then, Matilda had become a source of joy for both men. She was Miles’ partner in crime, and she had quite the affinity for Rhett. When she wasn’t flopping down at his feet, she was curling up on his shoulder when he sat on the couch.

She had felt his absence just as much as Miles had. The household just wasn’t the same without Rhett.

Meanwhile, not far from home, Rhett was feeling that same loneliness, and sense of anticipation. He’d just crossed the Wyoming state line, and in just sixty minutes, he would be reunited with his love. He hadn’t expected to be gone for an entire month, but that was how things unfolded.

He’d never been apart from Miles for that long, and it was torturous. He felt like one half of a whole, a missing puzzle piece. And sleeping had been hell, because he was so used to sleeping with Miles’ head resting upon his chest. To sleep in an uncomfortable bunk, in a bunkhouse full of crude cowboys, for an entire month had been miserable.

The guys were nice enough, and he’d made friends with most of them. But after living with a group of men, Rhett had come to deeply appreciate his Miles, even more so than he already did. Rhett wasn’t necessarily intuitive when it came to cleaning and neatness. But he had gotten much better about it since Miles had come into his life.

Miles was extremely neat and regimented. He did all the laundry, folded the clothes a specific way, made the bed exactly the way he’d been expected to make his bunk in the military. He preferred all his products to be lined up a specific way in the bathroom. That was partly a compulsive tendency, and partly military training. Everything was clean and neat and in its place.

Of course, Miles didn’t expect Rhett to be exactly like that. But he had shown him how he preferred to keep things, how to be neat and organized. It wasn’t that Rhett was careless, it was simply that he wasn’t taught. His mother hadn’t spent as much time emphasizing those things. He was clean, but he wasn’t organized.

Miles had certainly rubbed off on him in the time that they had been together. He’d gotten so used to the neatness, the order, that living in a bunkhouse full of men who generally weren’t neat and orderly was a bit of a rude awakening.

Oh, how eager he was to go home, and sleep in a bed of crisp linen sheets, freshly laundered, smelling of the pine scented gentle detergent that Miles used. The cottage, a cozy little fixer-upper that Rhett and Miles had worked hard to remodel, would smell earthy and sweet, thanks to the essential oil diffusers (filled with cat-safe oils, of course) that Miles kept running throughout the house.

It was comforting. It was home. It was everything he could ever dream of having.

And the closer he got, with each passing road sign that pointed toward Wabang, the more giddy he felt. Because he had a surprise for Miles. In his time away, Rhett had decided to let his beard grow out. Partly because he’d forgotten to pack razors, and because he just couldn’t be bothered to care. He kept it neat with an electric razor lent to him by one of the guys he worked with, but otherwise let it continue to grow.

He’d never sported a beard before, so he wasn’t sure what Miles would think. His husband had always loved his stubble, said it gave him a more rugged look. Would he like a beard just as much? There was only one way to find out.

He’d purposely avoided video calling Miles, citing bad reception, which was actually true, as he had to drive to a spot all the way outside the ranch just to get enough bars of service for their nightly phone call. But it had worked out in his favor, because it allowed him to keep his newly grown facial hair a secret.

In his head, he’d gone over the different ways Miles might react. Either he would love it, or he would gently tell Rhett that he needed to shave it. Rhett wasn’t attached to the beard, so he would shave it with no problem, if that was what Miles wanted.

However, he didn’t anticipate just how much his husband would love it. To the point where he would forbid him from shaving at all.

The hour drive through Wyoming felt like days, a slow form of torture as he continued to glance at the clock on the truck dash, watching time drag on like sand in an hourglass. So close, yet so far.

Never again would he spend so long apart from his love. The only other time they had been forced to be apart was then. The night Rhett had nearly lost Miles. A whirlwind of terror, confusion, and chaos. Forced apart by strange and impossible circumstances. Rhett had to fight tooth and nail just to get back to Miles, to save him, to keep him alive.

This time, being apart had not been forced. They had not been taken from each other, their lives had not been threatened. Rhett willingly left to do what he felt was necessary to ensure their financial security. And Miles, though sad to see him go, had encouraged it.

“It’ll be a good experience for you,” he’d assured Rhett. “I think you should go.”

So he did. But oh, what a relief it was to return. And he knew in his heart that no matter how much money was involved, he wouldn’t leave, not unless Miles could come with him.

What a major step it had been for Rhett to admit that he needed someone. Not in the way of codependency, or in the way that he was incapable of being by himself. But in the way that his life wasn’t the same without Miles, that he didn’t want to imagine a world where his sweetheart with the soft blue eyes and the honey colored curls wasn’t there.

And in the way that Rhett had spent so many years on his own, thinking he was unlovable, undesirable. That no woman would ever want him, because what did he bring to the table? A couple of DUIs? A fucked up shoulder and an alcohol problem? A dangerous career that could end with him paralyzed, or worse?

He certainly couldn’t entertain the thought of being with a man, either. More so because of his own insecurity and fear than anything else. He didn’t think his family would shun him for it, but he did worry about what the townsfolk would say. What his mother’s church, who was so staunchly against homosexuality, might say.

And then, there was that fear of being treated differently by fellow bull riders. In a more “masculine” sport, he worried about being seen as less than a man. Now, he knew how foolish he had been. But back then, as a sheltered, small town ranch boy, he didn’t know anything different. Navigating his sexuality was a scary thing. In some ways it was easier not to acknowledge it. To pretend like his attraction to men simply didn’t exist.

And then he was thrown through a black hole that brought him tumbling headfirst into the lobby of Miles’ hotel, and everything changed. It was easy to deny his sexuality when there was no man to place his affections upon.

Meeting Miles changed everything. During that time at the El Royale, no matter how short-lived it was, it felt as if they were the only two men left on earth. And what followed was an intense love story, one that Rhett still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around.

Somehow, despite all the adversity they had endured together, they had been given a second chance. Since then, Rhett had promised himself he would never live ashamed of his sexuality again.

It had taken longer for Miles to come to terms with his own identity, rooted deeply in religious guilt and trauma, not to mention his upbringing, that took place during a time in history that was so much different from Rhett’s. But Miles had come a long way, in his journey of accepting himself. After coming within a hair’s width of death, his perspective had changed greatly.

Almost seven years after that harrowing night at the hotel, they had put all that pain behind them. They wore the proof of their love, of their commitment to one another, on their ring fingers. Rhett could hardly believe, after so many years of repressing his true self, that he was now married to another man. What a milestone he had crossed, the day he said “I do” in the middle of Wabang City Hall.

And thus, they had become Rhett and Miles Abbott-Miller.

Now, Rhett was pulling into the driveway of the very home he shared with his husband. Their forever home. And as he took in the familiar, comforting sight of their little slice of heaven, he couldn’t help but smile, warmth spreading through his chest.

He was where he was always meant to be. What a privilege to return to the homestead he had built with Miles. In the waning light of day, the chickens frolicked about near their coop. The horses grazed in their pasture. The goats played in their pen.

A domestic scene, one that stole Rhett’s breath away as he pulled the old GMC Sierra to a stop. This was where he belonged. Where the other half of his heart resided.

Inside the cozy cabin, Miles, who had managed to get into a chapter of his book, perked up at the sound of an approaching engine. With a soft gasp, his nimble fingers shoved the bookmark between the book’s yellowed pages, casting it aside on the oak coffee table beside him.

“Daddy’s home, Tils!” Came his exclamation to his cat.

“Mrow,” she said.

Quick as a flash, Miles jumped up from the couch, shoving his feet into his house slippers. The orthopedic kind, so his feet wouldn’t ache from walking on the cottage’s hardwood floors all day. Matilda was hot on his heels as he made his way to the front door.

Through the window, he could see Rhett’s truck coming to a stop, and a jolt of sheer and utter elation rippled through him. He’s home.

Without a second thought, Miles flung the door open, uncaring that he was wearing his inside shoes outside. That was a problem he would sort out later, solved by taking a few disinfectant wipes to the soles of the slippers.

From this angle, he couldn’t see Rhett’s face as he climbed out of the truck and went around the side to grab his duffel. Rhett kept his head down, almost as if purposely shielding it from Miles’ view. And, essentially, that was what he was doing.

Rhett could hardly contain his smile at the sound of Miles’ rushed footsteps, coming closer and closer. “You’re home!” A sweet exclamation that hit Rhett directly in the heart, warming him from the inside out.

Duffel slung over his shoulder, Rhett turned to face his husband, revealing what he had so sneakily been concealing for so long.

The new addition to his face went momentarily unnoticed as Miles launched himself forward, straight into Rhett’s arms, the force so sudden it knocked the baseball cap off Rhett’s head. “Oh, I missed you so much!”

Rhett caught him with ease, joy washing over him in waves, big arms wrapping around Miles’ smaller frame, holding him tight against his chest. He didn’t expect the wave of emotion that hit him, but it gripped him in an instant, eyes welling with tears. “Missed you too, bub,” came his whisper, fracturing around the edges.

Miles buried his face against Rhett’s chest and breathed in deep. Earth, the peppery edge of cologne, and that natural, addicting musk that could only be described as Rhett.

When Miles pulled back, searching for a kiss, he froze, eyes going wide as saucers as he gasped, “Oh! Oh my gosh, you grew a beard!”

Rhett couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face, crow’s feet deepening around his eyes. “Yeah! What d’ya think?” He stepped back slightly to give Miles a better look.

The look in Miles’ eyes, shimmery and full of wonder, reminded Rhett so much of the way he had looked up at him on the day they got married, as Rhett slid a ring onto Miles’ slender finger.

“Wow,” Miles breathed, hands lifting so he could tentatively run his fingers through the beard. It wasn’t too long, nor was it too short. It was just right. And oh, how it made him weak in the knees.

The addition of facial hair made Rhett look so much more rugged. Strong and masculine, as if he had been away in the wilderness for weeks, hunting for food to bring back to his sweet little wife. Who, in this case, was Miles.

“I’m guessing that means you like it?” Rhett asked, still smiling, though a bit uncertain.

“Like it?!” Miles’ blunt nails gently scratched at the beard. “I’m speechless! Honey, you look…just…wow!” He dove forward again, mouth connecting with Rhett’s. It only took the cowboy a moment to regain his composure, large hands coming to rest upon Miles’ narrow waist as he melted into the kiss.

Rhett’s mustache bit against Miles’ soft upper lip, not necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, but a reminder that it was there. Miles couldn’t help it. He whimpered softly against Rhett’s mouth, body pressed firmly against him, fingers clutching at the collar of his button down.

When they parted, they were both breathless. Miles’ gaze went a little unfocused. His cheeks warmed pink. “Uh, s-sorry. I kinda lost my composure there for a second,” he murmured.

A mischievous glint shone in Rhett’s eyes as he smiled again. “Shit, you really like it, huh darlin’?”

“Well, yeah. How could I not? I don’t see you for almost an entire month and then you show up looking like a mountain man? I mean, good grief! I have half a mind to just drop right here and ride you in the middle of the driveway.”

At that, Rhett sputtered out a laugh, the tips of his ears turning red. “Well damn, here I was thinkin’ I was coming home to my sweet little husband. Didn’t know I was actually coming home to a feral little beast instead.”

Miles shook his head, not at all sheepish. Why should he be ashamed of his attraction to his man? “I can’t help it, you make me feral. Especially with a beard.”

Regaining some of his composure, Rhett ducked forward, nuzzling against Miles’ cheek. At that, he giggled, shrugging away from the scratchiness. “Stop! Don’t you start terrorizing me!”

“Oh? But I thought you liked the beard?” He moved to rub his face against Miles again, but the other man slipped out of his arms.

“I do, but first we’re putting some conditioner on it so it’s not as rough! Then you can rub it against me all you want!”

“But I wanna rub it against you now.”

Miles dashed toward the house, quick on his feet, but Rhett was right behind him, duffel bag tossed aside as his long arms reached out to catch Miles by the waist. Laughing like school children, they stumbled over each other, landing in the grass in a heap.

“Stop! You monster! Let me go!” Miles squealed, shoving at Rhett’s broad chest. Certainly strong enough to fully push him off if he wanted, but not trying in the slightest.

Rhett grabbed onto Miles’ wrists, pinning them to the ground above his head. “What’re you gonna do now, huh li’l mouse? Can’t stop me from rubbin’ my beard all over that cute face of yours, now, can you?”

“No! Rhett!” Miles cried, despite the giggles flowing out of him.

Rhett shoved his face against Miles’, rubbing that scratchy beard all over his blushing cheeks. That drew the sound of the beautiful belly laugh that Rhett adored so much, the kind that shook through Miles’ entire body and bubbled out of him in a way that seemed almost painful, though it was the furthest thing from it.

“Okay! Okay! You’ve made your point!”

At that, Rhett lifted his head so his face was hovering inches away from Miles’, and they both melted into another fit of laughter, bodies pressed to one another, against the warm earth of their homestead.

As their laughter quieted, a comfortable blanket of silence settled upon them, interrupted only by the steady breeze and the sound of farm life around them. Rhett nuzzled his nose against Miles’, humming lowly. “S’good to be home.”

Miles’ hands lifted to hold Rhett’s face, palms pressed gently against the beard. “It’s good to have you home.”

When Rhett kissed him, it was deep, loving, filled with all the minutes, hours, and days of yearning he’d experienced while he was away from his beloved. When they parted, both were breathless, warmth rushing through them like champagne fizz.

Hands resting upon the back of Rhett’s neck, Miles opened his mouth to speak. “Honey, I—”

“Meow.”

The raspy note of Matilda’s voice, which Rhett liked to joke made her sound like she smoked ten packs of cigarettes a day, interrupted whatever Miles had been about to say.

Rhett looked over to find the cat approaching, fluffy tail vibrating in excitement as she greeted her second dad. With the shake of his head, he reached over, scratching between her ears. “Hey, old bird. Did ya miss me?”

“She sure did. Slept on one of your flannels every night ‘cause it smelled like you.”

“Surprised you didn’t sleep on one of my flannels too,” Rhett teased.

“I did actually sleep on your pillow because it smelled like you. Even sprayed your cologne on it after I did the laundry, hopin’ to make it smell like you again.”

“Did it work?”

“Wasn’t the same. But it’s alright, you’re back now so I can just lay my head on your chest and smell you all night long.”

Another bout of laughter followed, while Rhett absently scratched at Matilda’s head. Here, surrounded by his little family, he was exactly where he was always meant to be. “Guess we should get off the ground, huh?”

“I dunno, I’m kinda just content to lay here and pet this gorgeous beard.”

At that, Rhett shook his head, scoffing. “Gorgeous? I wouldn’t go that far.”

Miles leaned up to kiss the tip of Rhett’s nose. “I would. Beard’s gorgeous, I said what I said, no take-backs.”

With a roll of his eyes, Rhett playfully nipped at Miles’ bottom lip before he finally scrambled to his feet, reaching out to pull Miles upright. “Alright, beard monster. Let’s get inside.”

Miles giggled, watching as Rhett stooped to grab his duffel, and together, the two ambled toward the house, hips bumping as they walked, Rhett’s arm around Miles’ shoulders, Miles’ arm around his waist.

Matilda followed eagerly after them, darting around their feet.

“Old gal’s tryin’ to trip us,” Rhett muttered.

“I think she’s herding us into the house,” came Miles’ reply, laced with laughter.

By some miracle, they managed to get inside without falling over top of the cat. As Miles closed the door behind them, Rhett stood in the entryway, breathing in deeply for a moment. The scent of home enveloped him like a comforting hug.

Cedar and oak from the hand cut woodwork that accented the cottage, chamomile and frankincense from the diffuser Miles kept on the entryway credenza. And then, of course, there was the scent of a slow simmering stew, onion and garlic and seared meat.

Rhett’s stomach growled. Miles’ cooking was his favorite. After going weeks without it, he couldn’t wait to eat whatever it was that his husband had cooked up. “Smells s’damn good in here,” he murmured as he toed his boots off, careful to put them on the boot rack near the door. Miles hated when he left his shoes in the middle of the floor.

“I’m makin’ stew!” Miles happily replied. “I also made you an apple pie.”

At that, hearts might as well have appeared in Rhett’s eyes, like a silly cartoon. His arm found its way to Miles’ waist again, pulling him into the warmth of his body. “What’d I ever do to get blessed with such a good husband? You spoil me, bub.”

Lashes fluttering, Miles shook his head. “You know me, always gotta make sure my man is fed well.”

Rhett ducked his head, kissing Miles once more. They melted into one another, in the cozy confines of their cottage, finally at ease, at peace, two halves of a whole joined together again. When Rhett’s tongue swiped at the bottom of Miles’ lip, he eagerly opened his mouth, letting Rhett inside. Tasting each other, memorizing the feel of one another’s tongues, the slick warmth of their mouths.

It was dizzying. Intoxicating. Within his chest, Miles felt his heart rate spike, fluttering like a hummingbird. Rhett’s was the same, a caged bird trying to escape. His Miles was so soft against him, cheeks rounded and a little squishy, blushing with the glow of good health.

What a testament to how well he was doing. Rhett remembered how, not so long ago, Miles was all gaunt cheeks and sharp angles. Now here he stood, healthy and robust. And he was whimpering into Rhett’s mouth, losing himself to the kiss. Fuck. What a pretty sound.

Miles’ hands lifted to take hold of Rhett’s collar, then, as if remembering the beard existed, his fingers began to run through it, petting the slightly coarse hair. Rhett’s hand rested upon Miles’ lower back, pulling him closer, pelvis tilting into his own.

Rhett felt it then. The telltale hardness that was beginning to grow in Miles’ sweatpants. At that, they parted, both out of breath, eyes a little unfocused, swaying in one another’s arms.

“Oh, um, I…got a little carried away,” came Miles’ reply, voice cracking. He glanced down, cheeks warming as he realized he was hard.

With the shake of his head, Rhett grinned. “We’ve been apart for a whole damn month. No such thing as gettin’ carried away, not after we’ve been missin’ each other so much.”

“Uh-huh,” Miles agreed as Rhett kissed at his jaw, distracted by the scrape of his mustache. “But I wanna feed you first. Know you’re probably starvin’.”

“I am starvin’,” Rhett agreed, “but it ain’t for stew or apple pie. Got somethin’ even tastier right in front of me.”

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to let the stew simmer for a little longer…”

The smile that spread across Rhett’s face was wolfish. “Now we’re talkin’.”

“But you have to let me soften this thing up a bit first, ‘cause I just know it’s gonna give me a rash if you don’t,” Miles mused, stroking Rhett’s beard again.

“Alright, how ‘bout we go hop in the shower? Gotta rinse off anyway, A/C is busted in the truck and the ride home was sweaty. I probably stink to high heaven.”

Miles shook his head, eyes glimmering. “No, you smell like you, and I love it. But it wouldn’t hurt to take a shower anyway.”

“Alrighty then, let’s get to it, loverboy.”

Together, they headed toward the staircase that led to the upper level, where their bedroom, and the bathroom resided. Giggling, stumbling slightly, hands all over each other, they managed to ascend the steps, Rhett dragging his duffel bag along with him. Once they reached the bedroom, the bag hit the floor with a thud.

The cozy oasis instantly made Rhett feel at ease. The floor was dark wood, a large rug with shades of green covering part of it. The bed frame was fashioned out of rustic wood, built by Rhett’s own hands. Bedding in shades of green complimented the rug, bringing the room together.

The room smelled of lavender, soothing in nature.

This haven was their safe space. A place of solitude and comfort, surrounding the bed in which they held one another as they slept, spent hours engaging in pillow talk, and made sweet love to each other.

Rhett no longer had to sleep on an uneven vinyl mattress in a bunkhouse full of guys. There was no doubt that he would sleep like a baby tonight, in the comfort of his own bed. But first, there were some things to attend to. Which were made clear by the insistent press of Miles against his back, cheek resting between his shoulder blades as his arms encircled Rhett’s waist from behind.

“If you grab the towels, I’ll start the shower.”

Rhett hummed. “Sure thing, darlin’.”

And so they parted, Rhett with his job, and Miles with his own.

Steam began to rise in the bathroom, fogging up the mirror and creating a hazy atmosphere as Miles brought the water to the perfect temperature. Rhett joined him moments later, holding two neatly folded towels in one hand, and a bottle of something in his other.

“I, uh, have this beard oil here. One of the guys I was workin’ with gave it to me, but I haven’t tried it out yet. Thought now might be the perfect time.”

Miles nodded eagerly. “Yes! That’s good, we can use it when we’re done.” He took the items from Rhett, setting them down upon the bathroom counter. “Now, go ‘head and get naked, cowboy. Water’s nice and hot.”

“You just want me to strip for ya, s’that it?” Came Rhett’s teasing.

“I mean, unless you want to take a shower fully clothed…”

With the roll of his eyes, Rhett shook his head, already moving to begin unbuttoning his shirt. But a glint of mischief flashed in Miles’ eyes, and he moved toward Rhett like a honey badger in search of sticky sweet honey. “Wait! Let me do it.”

In amusement, Rhett watched as Miles’ nimble fingers began to undo each button. Once he got to the waistline of his jeans, he gripped the belt, unbuckling it with practiced ease. Something about that act made Rhett’s breath hitch in his throat, his mind flashing back to so many times like this one, in which Miles had eagerly unbuckled his belt to take his cock in his mouth.

Rhett’s blood rushed south.

“Honey.”

“Huh?”

“I said, could you step out of your jeans, please?”

Rhett glanced down, realizing Miles was waiting for him to lift each foot from the pant legs of his jeans. “Oh. Got distracted, sorry.”

Miles giggled as he tossed the now discarded jeans to the side. “Soon as I get on my knees you go all caveman brained,” he teased, pressing a kiss to Rhett’s bare thigh.

“Can ya blame me? Got a little nymph kneelin’ at my feet, can’t help but lose my composure a bit.”

A blush darkened Miles’ cheeks. “I’m a nymph now, huh?” He asked with the raise of his brow.

“Yep. Real cute one too.”

“What kind? Dryad? Naiad? Aurae?”

It was Rhett’s turn to blush, though his was because Miles had such extensive knowledge of Greek mythology, and Rhett was totally out of his element. “I, uh…I dunno, which one do you want to be?”

Miles giggled as he rose to stand. “I’ll go with dryad. They’re tree nymphs.”

That gave Rhett the opportunity to roll with it and return a humorous quip. “Why? ‘Cause you wanna climb me like a tree?”

They both melted into laughter, Miles shoving at Rhett’s chest. “You’re lame.”

“Ain’t that why you love me?”

“I love you in spite of your lameness.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Rhett pulled him in for another kiss, before he shrugged his shirt off, letting it fall to the floor with a barely audible whisper of fabric.

That left him in just his underwear, and Miles still fully clothed. Something that needed to be remedied. Rhett eased Miles’ waffle knit shirt over his head, exposing his upper body. Dusky pink nipples that had hardened to stiff little peaks. Milky skin dotted with freckles. A soft tummy, with a scar directly in the middle, just above his bellybutton.

Slightly jagged, pale around the edges. The scar that had nearly taken him from Rhett. The scar that reminded them both of everything they had overcome just to be able to live this sweet, slow life on their little homestead.

Rhett was struck with a wave of awe as he watched Miles undress. He so vividly remembered the first time he had slept with Miles, back at the El Royale. Though Rhett had never had sex with another man before, he wasn’t half as nervous as Miles had been. Trembling hands, blushing cheeks, eyes that couldn’t meet the cowboy’s gaze.

Miles admitted that he had been with men before, but the reason he was so nervous was because he’d never connected with any of them like this. It wasn’t a quick, hurried fuck in the dark that left Miles feeling like damaged goods, dirty and used. This was intimate. And true intimacy was a very foreign thing to Miles.

He had been shy. Uncertain. But that was okay, because Rhett was patient. He, too, was navigating something foreign and new.

Then, Miles had been self-conscious about undressing in front of Rhett. Now, he shrugged out of his clothes without hesitancy or complaint, comfortable in his own skin, accustomed to being naked in front of his husband.

The cherry on top? Rhett caught a glimpse of something glimmering, nestled between the soft swell of Miles’ ass, as he stepped out of his underwear.

“You’re wearin’ a plug?” He didn’t mean for his voice to crack, but it did anyway.

Miles paused, lashes fluttering as he smiled, not shyly, but mischievously. “Well I wanted to be ready for you, had to keep myself stretched.” He said it so matter-of-fact, and it sent a jolt of arousal through Rhett.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Such a good boy.”

At that, Miles couldn’t help but beam with pride. Rhett’s praise always made his heart sing. He knew wearing a plug would elicit such a reaction. His husband couldn’t get enough of the sight of that pretty, purple, heart shaped jewel contrasted against Miles’ skin.

It was clear that Miles had been banking on the fact that he was going to get fucked tonight. And Rhett would gladly oblige him. But first, there were other things to attend to.

“C’mon, get outta those underwear and hop in, so we don’t waste any more water,” Miles said, motioning toward the shower.

Nodding dumbly, Rhett was already moving to tug his boxers down his legs, half hard beneath them. The sight of him, naked as day, stole Miles’ breath away. It had only been a month, and yet, seeing him now, it felt as if they had spent a lifetime apart.

He nearly dropped to his knees to take that gorgeous, thick cock into his mouth. But somehow, Miles mustered enough restraint not to do that, but to instead grab Rhett’s hand and guide him into the steam of the shower.

Rhett followed like a lovesick puppy, which was essentially what he was. As the warm water enveloped him, his hands took hold of Miles’ hips, drawing him closer. The press of bare skin against bare skin was overwhelmingly intimate. It stole Rhett’s breath away.

He realized how touch starved he was, as he wrapped his arms around Miles, allowing the water to cascade over them both. Going without his lover’s sweet embrace had been more torturous than he even realized.

Funny, Rhett had always believed himself to have an aversion to touch. In reality, he had merely been so deprived of affection, that he had allowed himself to believe he had no desire for it.

First, he had needed to come to the conclusion that he could seek out affection, that it was okay, that he wouldn’t be dismissed, turned away, scoffed at. It had helped, early on in their relationship, that Miles needed him. When Rhett first brought him home after his hospital stay following the events of the El Royale, there was a lot of physical contact involved.

Miles needed to be held when the nightmares woke him in the night. Needed Rhett’s help to take care of himself, to bathe, to do basic tasks that required Rhett to get up close and personal with him. And through that, they had developed a very deep bond. Physical touch provided them both so much comfort during that time, and it still provided comfort now.

“Missed holdin’ you,” Rhett murmured, voice low. “Hell, I missed everythin’ about you. Already knew I was lucky to have you, but living in a bunkhouse full of dudes reminded me just how lucky.”

At that, Miles grinned. “Oh, he finally admits it.”

That earned an eye roll from Rhett, who playfully swatted Miles’ pert ass. “Hush up, ‘ve always told you how lucky I am to have ya. Just had a good reminder this past month after bein’ away from you.”

“You just missed me for my cooking,” came Miles’ teasing reply.

Eyes glimmering, Rhett shrugged. “That, and maybe I missed the really good head you give.”

It was Miles’ turn to shake his head in disbelief, pushing at Rhett’s chest. “Oh, unhand me, you perv. Let me condition that beard of yours.”

In reply, Rhett snickered, releasing Miles so he could grab what he needed. But Rhett couldn’t be expected to keep his hands to himself for long, not after being so deprived.

When Miles turned back around, shampoo in hand, Rhett guided him close once again, tilting his chin back to kiss him languidly.

“Let me take care of you for a minute,” Miles spoke against Rhett’s mouth, “wanna make you feel pampered.”

An amused hum left Rhett’s mouth. “Yeah?”

“Uh-huh, ‘cause I know you haven’t had much pamperin’ these last few weeks. Taking rushed showers doesn’t count. You need someone to actually take care of you.”

Something about that took Rhett’s breath away, and he couldn’t conjure up a coherent reply. Certainly not when Miles coaxed him to kneel upon the shower floor so he could properly wash Rhett’s hair. There was a tenderness that Miles brought to everything he did. Care and attention to detail.

Rhett let himself be looked after. Miles so carefully detached the shower head and used it to dampen Rhett’s hair, allowing some water to cascade down to his beard. The shower head was returned to its cradle in favor of pouring shampoo into his palm, which he first lathered in his hands before so gently working it through Rhett’s hair.

“Your hair got longer too,” Miles observed, “I like it.”

Rhett was too busy enjoying the sensation of Miles’ fingers massaging his scalp to reply. Eyes fluttering shut, he allowed himself to fully relax. Above him, Miles couldn’t help but admire how at peace his husband looked. The crease in his brow had smoothed out, stress melting away. Miles could only imagine the physical toll the last few weeks had taken.

Rhett was tired. But now, he could rest.

“Alright, I’m gonna wash your beard now.”

At that, Rhett opened his eyes, watching Miles’ focused expression as he lathered shampoo into the beard. His lashes fluttered, eyes glimmering, mouth parting. The expression made Rhett’s heart stutter in his chest. He had never felt more beautiful than he did under his husband’s gaze.

Rhett had never had a high opinion of himself or his own looks, but with the way Miles looked at him, he may as well have been the most handsome man in the entire world. And he was, to Miles. All others paled in comparison.

Rhett might’ve offered another teasing quip about how far gone Miles was for this beard, but he couldn’t find it in himself to muster a coherent word. Not when his face was so gently cradled in Miles’ hands, handled with the utmost care.

When it came time to rinse the soap out, Miles was cautious not to get any in Rhett’s mouth, or his eyes. And once he was finished, he spoke, voice slightly wrecked. “You can stand now. Don’t want your knees to hurt from kneeling for too long.”

When Rhett rose to his feet, he watched Miles turn to grab the conditioner bottle, muscle rippling beneath his skin with the movement. Quiet strength, rebuilt after a long period of weakness. A time when Miles could barely walk, because of the pain he was in. Now he hauled bales of hay, carried feed sacks over one shoulder, endured more strenuous forms of labor. He still dealt with lingering aches and pains from his old injuries, at times, but it wasn’t debilitating any longer.

“You’re staring.”

Rhett’s eyes snapped up to Miles’, and a smile tugged at his mouth. Not sheepish, but loving. “I was just admirin’ your muscles.”

A flush creeped onto Miles’ cheeks. “Oh. They ain’t anything to write home about.”

“Are you kiddin’ me? Look how strong you’ve gotten after all this time. I mean, you could barely walk when I first brought ya back to Wabang. Now look at all you can do.” Instinctively, he pulled Miles toward him, arms winding around his waist, bodies slick from the water, warm from the heat. Skin to skin, chest to chest, desire thrumming between them, where their hips met.

“Guess I have come pretty far. But it’s because you believed in me. Couldn’t have done any of it without you.”

Rhett hummed, nuzzling his nose against Miles’. “We’re a team. We work together.” One large hand came up to rest against the scarred side of Miles’ face, thumb rubbing loving circles against his cheek. The feeling of raised skin beneath his touch always reminded Rhett that Miles was very much alive and well.

Here, in the cozy warmth of their shower, the sweet scent of coconut shampoo hanging in the damp air. A place of softness, goodness, love.

“Love you so much.” Miles murmured, slow and relaxed. Then his mouth curved into a smile. “But you gotta let me condition the beard now. You keep distracting me.”

“Sorry, sorry, can’t help myself. Wanna hold ‘n squeeze you all the time, twenty-four-seven.” For emphasis, his hands skimmed down the expanse of Miles’ back, gripping the plushness of his ass.

By some miracle, Miles managed to smooth conditioner into Rhett’s beard, without dropping the bottle, even with the other man grabbing at him. He even managed to ease out of Rhett’s grip and grab soap and a wash cloth.

As he let the conditioner sit, Miles began to attentively wash Rhett’s body. Careful passes of the cloth, starting at the neck and working his way down. Over Rhett’s chest, over that ridiculous faded bull and rider tattoo that he’d gotten at a sketchy tattoo shop when he was eighteen. Over the scar on his shoulder, where he’d taken a bullhorn when he was twenty-one.

Down, down, down his torso Miles went. Washing away sweat, leaving Rhett’s skin clean and slightly pink. Then, Miles found himself kneeling, and something shifted in his expression. With reverence and tenderness, he ran the cloth between Rhett’s strong thighs, over the ever-growing hardness there.

On instinct, Miles leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the base of it, and Rhett gasped softly above him. There was an innocence to that action, a sweetness, and it increased Rhett’s desire so intensely that he had to reach a hand back against the shower wall to steady himself.

Miles was so tempted to suck him off then and there, but he had an end goal in mind, and that involved being in the soft comfort of their bed. So he forced himself to continue cleansing Rhett’s skin, moving further down his legs, until, finally, Miles rose to stand once again.

“Gotta, um, rinse out that conditioner now.”

“Bub.”

“Yeah?”

“Y’can have me in your mouth, if you want.”

At that, Miles shook his head. “I know, but I don’t wanna do it in the shower. I’d rather be in bed.”

Rhett couldn’t help but grin. “Anythin’ for you, princess.”

“Hush up,” Miles responded, though he couldn’t hide his own smile. He set the wash cloth aside and grabbed the shower head again, using it to quickly rinse the conditioner out of Rhett’s beard. Then, once he was satisfied, he shut the water off.

Quick and methodical, he gave Rhett a towel to dry off with, before grabbing one for himself. Miles would take his own full shower later, because he knew he would need one after whatever mischief he and Rhett got up to in bed.

Until then, Miles ushered Rhett to sit upon the closed toilet seat. He’d wrapped his towel around his waist, and it did little to conceal his arousal. Miles tried his best not to get distracted by it as he retrieved a clean, dry face towel from the cabinet.

Rhett let himself once again enjoy the relaxing sensation of his husband’s hands on him. With precision, Miles towel dried the beard, and then retrieved the bottle of oil from the vanity, pausing to read the directions before he began to apply it.

Once satisfied, he took a fine tooth comb, and ran it through the beard, ensuring it looked neat and well-kept. “There. All finished.” He was beaming. Eyes shimmering. Admiring his man.

Rhett turned, glancing over his shoulder to get a glimpse of himself in the mirror over the bathroom sink. “Not half bad,” he said with a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Maybe you should open a barber shop.”

“Maybe I should,” Miles jokingly agreed.

After he put the beard oil away, Rhett guided Miles toward him, hands on his hips, over the towel he’d wrapped around his waist. Eyes hungry, Rhett gazed up at him, and admired the way his honeyed curls, damp from the shower, fell across his forehead. He looked angelic, in a way.

“Y’know…” Rhett began, “I was thinkin’. You like my beard so much, maybe you’d like to go for a little ride on it.”

“Oh, uh, we don’t have to, if–”

“I wouldn’t offer, if I didn’t want to do it.” He lovingly squeezed the backs of Miles’ thighs through the terrycloth. “You spent all this time gettin’ it nice and soft. Should be allowed to enjoy your hard work, don’t ya think?”

“I-I guess so.” Cheeks blushing pink. Lashes fluttering.

Rhett squared his shoulders, eyes narrowing, a cat eager to play with its little mouse. “C’mon now, pretty baby. Let’s go get in bed so you can sit your cute li’l ass on my face.”

Miles lost his ability to form a coherent sentence as Rhett stood, a full head taller than him. Towering. Broad. Oh, he’d definitely missed this. How small Rhett made him feel. Not a feeling of powerlessness, but of safety, of sanctuary, of peace.

Allowing himself to be led by the wrist, Miles followed Rhett out of the steam-dampened bathroom, the cool air of the hallway leaving goosebumps in its wake as the two made their way into the bedroom.

Once in the tranquil confines, door shut so Matilda the cat wouldn’t try to sneak in, a blanket of comfort and ease fell upon the two men. There was no performance, no expectation. They could just…be.

Rhett turned toward Miles, his eyes shimmering with something he could not name. In this haven, they were both exactly where they were meant to be.

Strong, weathered hands skimmed down Miles’ abdomen, deft fingers unwrapping the towel and sending it to the floor. Rhett’s towel followed suit, leaving them bare to one another again.

The mattress was soft beneath Miles as he e was guided onto it. Rhett held eye contact as he joined him, straddling Miles’ waist, skin warm against skin. Anticipation hung between them, thrumming through their veins.

In his lungs, Miles’ breath hitched, stalling as Rhett ducked forward, eyes narrow, mouth curved into a knowing smile. And Miles melted beneath him, contentment softening his face. Rhett couldn’t help but admire how at ease the other man appeared. Hair curling in tendrils against his forehead, softening his features and giving him a boyish glow that made Rhett’s heart flip.

He couldn’t resist tracing Miles’ features with his fingertips. The slope of his nose, the fullness of his blushing cheeks, the thin, pink line of his lips. Instinctively, Miles parted his mouth as Rhett’s thumb brushed over it. Wordlessly, he pressed that thumb forward, allowing Miles to suckle at it.

Rhett watched in awe as Miles’ lashes fluttered, eyes hooded, unfocused. His hands came up to loosely grip Rhett’s wrist.

“Oh. You need it bad, don’t you baby?” Rhett breathed.

“Uh-huh.” came Miles’ response, mouth still full of Rhett’s thumb.

Warmth spread through Rhett’s chest, that familiar, protective instinct swelling within him. Assuming a role of dominance. Not overbearing, not loud. Quiet, controlled, driven by the need to care for his husband.

“Waited so long, huh?” He cooed.

At that, Miles pulled back from Rhett’s thumb to speak. “I…I didn’t touch myself the whole time you were gone.”

The admission didn’t shock Rhett. Miles didn’t prefer masturbation, at least not when he was alone. He needed physical contact, needed his partner there with him so he could stay grounded. Getting off by himself usually left him feeling unfulfilled and lonely in the comedown, yearning to be held, so his mind wouldn’t spiral too much.

With a low hum, Rhett nuzzled Miles’ nose. “Can I tell ya, I didn’t touch myself, either? I barely had two seconds of privacy some days. Not so easy to get in the mood when you got people breathin’ down your neck.”

A smile crossed Miles’ face. “So we’re both super pent-up then?”

“Guess so. Gonna have to pace ourselves so we don’t finish too fast.”

Miles reached up to run his fingers through Rhett’s beard. “With this thing on your face, I know I won’t last long.”

“We should put that to the test.” Rhett ducked forward to capture Miles’ sweet, mocking mouth in a kiss.

It was then that Miles seemed to truly register just how bare they both were. As Rhett kissed him, tongue delving into his mouth, Miles canted his hips forward, cock dragging against Rhett’s, hard and insistent between them.

This was what Miles had been stretching himself for all day, with that jeweled plug. He couldn’t wait to be filled, connected in the most intimate of ways. But first, there was a beard to sit on.

Rhett knew how much Miles enjoyed foreplay. Not just leading up to the act itself, but in the hours before. A slow, steady buildup. Stolen touches throughout the day, charges glances, and various acts of service that made Miles swoon.

Of course, Rhett had only been home for about an hour, so a long, drawn out day of foreplay wasn’t on the table. However, he could still worship his husband in this moment, bringing his mouth down his jaw, his neck. Beard brushing over sensitive flesh as he went.

He sucked on Miles’ pulse point, which drew the most delicious little whimper, cock growing even harder from the sensation.

Then, Rhett went lower. Over Miles’ clavicle. Between the valley of his chest. Then, ever so slightly, Rhett ran his bearded cheek over each of Miles’ nipples. That drew a choked gasp from him as he jolted beneath Rhett.

“O-oh! That…that feels good.” A soft, breathless admission.

A grin spread across Rhett’s face. “Yeah?” He did it again, facial hair brushing over each pebbled little nipple, enjoying the way his husband squirmed beneath him.

Then, he continued his descent, kissing over Miles’ belly, gentle as he kissed his scar. There had been a time when Miles couldn’t stand to be touched there, but now, he welcomed it, melting into the affection Rhett left against the mark.

When Miles lifted his head to gaze down at Rhett, he found him already looking up at him, now hovering just over the dusting of hair that led down his lower abdomen, giving way to a thatch of thicker, blondish hair that framed his cock.

“Look at that. So hard f’me already.” Rhett’s hand wrapped around Miles’ shaft, tugging once, twice, relishing in the hiss Miles let out. “You ready to sit on my face?”

“Uh-huh.” Mouth loose around the syllables, ability to speak leaving him momentarily.

Rhett’s brow lifted. “Words, bubba.”

“Y-yes sir.”

“Good boy.” Then Rhett shifted, first grabbing a bottle of lube from the nightstand, and then moving to slide the pillows aside so he could lay flat. Once he was settled, he waved Miles over. “Now c’mon, get on up here.”

Butterflies fluttered in Miles’ tummy as he moved to join Rhett, hands resting upon the headboard to steady himself as he swung his leg over to straddle his face. From this position, Miles found himself feeling just a little vulnerable. It wasn’t often that they did this.

“Don’t you get lost in that pretty head of yours.” Rhett’s hands came up to gently grip Miles’ thighs, squeezing the muscle. “I’m gonna take your plug out now, alright?”

“Okay.”

Rhett slid his hand back, fingers locating the jewel, before he cautiously eased it out of Miles, who sighed softly at the feeling. He’d been wearing it all day, and was struck by the sudden emptiness. An emptiness that would soon be filled.

After the plug was set aside, Rhett slowly guided Miles forward, until he was hovering over his face. From Rhett’s vantage point, he was admiring everything in his line of sight. Miles’ cock bobbing between his thighs as he shifted, his full balls, the sensitive, pink skin that led to that cute little hole settled between the plushness of his ass.

“Mm, so pretty,” Rhett cooed, pressing a kiss to the inside of Miles’ thigh, certain to rub his beard into the sensitive skin.

That earned him a surprised “oh!”

Rhett couldn’t help but grin. This was going to be so much fun.

Hands against Miles’ thighs, Rhett kept him steady, guiding him lower until he could mouth lovingly against the underside of his cock. Miles had to grip the headboard again to keep himself upright. The sensation of that beard was indescribable.

As Rhett licked and sucked and nuzzled, Miles found himself falling deeper and deeper into that state that could only be described as champagne fizz, or maybe fireworks, popping through his brain, through his neural receptors, through every nerve ending in his body.

If this had been his first time experiencing such intense sensations, he might’ve asked to stop. But he knew this feeling well. It was something he had begun to experience after he retired the drugs. After he regained his senses, and they weren’t dulled by another form of stimulus.

He felt everything.

And then Rhett guided him forward a little more, so he could swirl his tongue around Miles’ entrance, and that heightened it all. Pathetically, brokenly, Miles moaned, eyes rolling back. Fuck, they’d only just started and he was already this far gone.

He didn’t have to hold back. Didn’t have to hide his pleasure for fear of Rhett’s judgment. Because Rhett loved how sensitive his husband was. How it was so easy to send him over the edge, how Miles was comfortable enough to allow himself to be in his most vulnerable state, because he knew that Rhett would take care of him.

No matter how fast he fell, Rhett was always there to catch him.

And now, Rhett held him, guided him, encouraged him to take what he needed as Miles’ hips canted against that bearded face.

When Miles looked down, his breath caught in his chest. What a salacious sight. Rhett, between his thighs, Miles’ dick resting across his face. It earned a whimpered “oh my stars,” from Miles.

That drew a deep groan out of Rhett. Didn’t matter how down and dirty they got. Miles rarely uttered swear words. He just wasn’t in the habit of doing so. Instead, he would say his usual clean phrases. Oh goodness. Oh my stars. Oh my gosh.

Rhett found it both adorable and incredibly hot. Perhaps it was his innocence kink running rampant.

As if anything about what they were doing was innocent whatsoever.

Wanting to draw more sounds out of his man, Rhett decided to offer double the stimulation. He eased Miles back just a little so he could speak. “Can ya hand me the lube, darlin’?”

Dumbly, Miles nodded, eyes blinking rapidly as he registered what Rhett was asking. Slowly, he reached over to grab the bottle, and Rhett held up his palm. Miles wasn’t sure how he was able to muster the wherewithal to pour some into Rhett’s hand, but he succeeded somehow.

Then Rhett pulled Miles back over his face, and wrapped that lubed up hand around his cock. The moment he applied pressure, fingers wrapped firmly around the shaft, Miles jolted, gasping raggedly.

That spurred Rhett on, and he found his rhythm. Just knowing how much enjoyment Miles was getting out of this was turning Rhett on immensely. The sounds his husband made were so sweet, so vulnerable. Whimpers, squeaks, sighs.

The most gorgeous music he’d ever had the pleasure of listening to. Far surpassing even the melodious birdsong Rhett always enjoyed when he was out in the pastures. Miles’ song was even sweeter than a meadowlark’s.

Rhett drew more sounds of pleasure from him as he continued his onslaught, laving at the delicate skin, delving his tongue inside, nuzzling his beard against Miles just to draw even more whimpers forth, like a babbling brook.

That, paired with Rhett’s hand steadily stroking him, was almost too much for Miles. He lost himself to the bliss, eyes fluttering shut, head lolling back. Yes, yes, yes, right there, don’t stop.

Warmth spread through him, from head to toe. His muscles trembled, his heart flip-flopped, his entire being knew only Rhett, Rhett, Rhett.

Having gone so long without stimulation, experiencing it again was a welcome assault to his senses. He couldn’t help but grind down against his husband’s handsome face, unable to keep still as one hand held the headboard, and the other tangled in the mop of brunette hair beneath him.

Rhett grunted at the feeling of Miles tugging at the roots, and it only spurred him on, encouraging him to work with more fervor to provide the man above him with as much pleasure as possible.

As the intensity mounted, Miles found himself instinctively reaching for Rhett’s hand to hold on to, needing the physical contact, an anchor to ground himself so he didn’t float away, up into the sky like a hot air balloon.

With their fingers intertwined, he tried to focus, tried to be present in the moment, to enjoy being reunited with his love in such a salacious yet intimate way, after being apart for so many days. But his mind kept fixating on various discomforts. The way his thighs were beginning to burn, the way his spine was too tense because he was subconsciously afraid of resting his weight entirely on Rhett.

And then there was the lack of physical contact. Miles needed more. Needed Rhett’s arms around him, his voice in his ear, his body pressed against him.

Miles opened his mouth to speak, to ask to change positions, but he was suddenly overcome with a wave of pleasure so electric, he realized almost too late that he was already close to falling apart.

“Ah! W-wait, wait, wait,” he babbled, reaching down to grab Rhett’s wrist.

Rhett stopped immediately, hand falling away as Miles pulled back, hovering just over Rhett’s chest now.

“Y’alright, bub?”

Miles took a steadying breath, lashes fluttering. His face was flushed, cheeks pink, eyes unfocused. “Yeah, I…I don’t wanna cum yet. Got there a little faster than I wanted.”

Rhett’s palm came to rest upon the softness of Miles’ thigh. “Do you wanna take a break?”

In the past, Miles might have let himself spiral over that, worrying that he was upsetting his partner for needing to put things on pause. But now, he found the confidence to say, “yes. I think that would help. Just…need to be close to you for a bit. Can’t get enough contact from in this position.”

A soft, pleased smile passed over Rhett’s face. If his bub wanted to be close to him, he’d give him exactly what he asked for. “Alright, get over here then.”

Miles was then guided down onto the bed, where he eagerly snuggled into the cowboy’s side, warm and safe, no pressure to continue sex until he was ready.

An apology was on the tip of his tongue. And he would’ve uttered it, if he hadn’t spent the last few years being assured by Rhett time and time again that he didn’t need to be sorry for needing a break. Now, he believed it. He had nothing to apologize for.

Besides, it was nice to have a moment to just…be. Here, he could exist in the arms of his spouse, in his most vulnerable state. Protected, loved, cherished. The physical contact was welcome, especially after going without for a while.

“Mm, missed layin’ on you like this,” Miles spoke, nuzzling his face against Rhett’s chest, sparsely dusted with hair. He breathed in deep, inhaling the clean scent, settling even further into the heat of his body.

Rhett’s arm wrapped around Miles, holding him closer still. The air between them was still charged, thrumming with anticipation of what was to come. But they were in no rush to get there. Rhett was content to hold his sweetheart for a little while longer, and enjoy the closeness. If there was one thing Miles had taught him over the years, it was to be present and enjoy the moment.

If he’d rushed things along, he wouldn’t get to experience this. The soft press of Miles’ mouth as he lifted his head to kiss Rhett’s chest. Again and again, he kissed the skin there, and the slight swell of his pectoral. Lovingly, adoringly, Rhett watched, admiring the way Miles’ lashes fluttered, the way he seemed so at peace.

“Love you so much,” he continued, words muffled as he mouthed at Rhett’s chest, so they sounded more like “luh ya s’much.”

Rhett was overcome with something he could not name. An all-consuming need to protect, to provide, to hold and cherish. His free hand lifted, thumb gently brushing over the roundness of Miles’ cheek.

“Love you too, bub.” There was a rawness in his voice. Sincerity burned through him.

“I…” Miles opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat. He couldn’t voice them. Couldn’t muster the wherewithal to form a single coherent sentence. But Rhett didn’t expect him to speak.

What Miles needed was for his mouth to be occupied. So Rhett gave that to him, guiding him forth until Miles wrapped his lips around one of Rhett’s peaked nipples.

That did exactly what Miles needed it to. He moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut as he suckled. It drew a broken gasp from the cowboy, who soon cooed and reached up to brush Miles’ curls away from his forehead.

“There ya go. That what you needed, baby boy?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah. Just had to have your mouth full for a bit. Bet you missed havin’ something to suck on, huh?”

Another whimpered “mhm!”

Rhett knew his partner well. Miles had always had an oral fixation, and together they had found that he loved sucking on Rhett’s fingers, or, in this case, his nipples. Something that Miles had originally been embarrassed about, but Rhett had assured him that he found it to be a major turn on. And not only that, but it had become very soothing for both of them. A way to connect with each other, to experience another form of intimacy.

Here, in the sacred confines of their bed, they melted into one another. A sense of peace blanketed Miles, his overwhelm fading away as he nuzzled further into Rhett. This was what Miles had needed all along. The close contact. Nights spent in this bed had been so lonely without his cowboy. The emptiness of the house would press into him, too quiet, too vast. He would play soft classical music to fall asleep to, just to fill the silence.

Now, he could listen to Rhett’s heartbeat, and the soft, rhythmic sound of his breath. Oh, how sweet it was to be reunited.

If only for a moment, everything disappeared. All of Miles’ worries, all his uncertainty. It left his mind, and in its place, a flood of endorphins rose to the occasion.

Rhett allowed Miles to have his fill, to remain against his chest for as long as he wanted. Because it was just as soothing for Rhett, and he adored watching how peaceful his husband looked.

And then, instinctively, Miles’ hand came up, fingers absently running through Rhett’s beard, and that quite nearly sent Rhett’s heart soaring up into the heavens. He was a source of comfort. And that privilege meant everything to him.

He held Miles a little tighter, relishing in the closeness, and in the sound of his soft hums of contentment.

After a few moments, Miles pulled back, lips wet and shimmering, cheeks flushed, eyes a little glassy. And he seemed to fully register the fact that Rhett was hard and aching, cock resting heavy and flushed against his abdomen.

Switching gears, his hand skimmed down Rhett’s chest, over his stomach, and stopped right against his cock. Miles’ fingers wrapped around the shaft, thumb swiping over the blushed tip, which leaked a steady stream of molten arousal.

Rhett’s breath hitched, a shock of pleasure rushing through him.

“You’re so wet,” Miles murmured, an observation more than anything. But the way he said it, with this unintentional air of innocence, made Rhett’s heart rate pick up speed.

“Can’t help it,” he grunted, “s’just what you do to me.”

In wonder, Miles lifted his hand to admire the way the sticky substance glistened on his fingers. And then, he brought his hand to his mouth and sucked those fingers clean.

Rhett groaned deep in his chest, unable to hold back any longer. With ease, not force, he shifted, until his body was hovering over Miles, not pinning him down, but blanketing him.

Miles blinked up at him, lashes fluttering, curls mussed atop his head, appearing more like a halo.

“God, I could just eat ya right up,” came Rhett’s rasped admission. “You got no idea how much you turn me on.”

“If it’s anything like the way you turn me on, I think I have some sort of idea,” Miles managed to tease back, even as his eyes drifted down between their bodies, where Rhett’s cock brushed lightly over his.

A smile warmed Rhett’s face. “Guess we’re even, huh?” He playfully nipped at Miles’ bottom lip, and when it parted, he kissed him deeply.

Miles’ brain went haywire once again at the feeling of that facial hair against his skin. The overwhelm he had felt earlier had melted into something much more manageable, and now, he found himself wrapping his arms around Rhett’s shoulders, pulling him closer, eager for more.

“Whatcha want, bubba? Want my face between your legs again? Or you want me inside you?”

“I’m ready for you to be inside me.” There was no hesitancy. Miles knew what he wanted.

With another kiss, Rhett said, “alright. Lemme just grab the lube.” The bottle had rolled toward the edge of the bed, and he rescued it from falling to its death over the edge, before moving to kneel against the bed so he could ready both himself and Miles.

Rhett took extra care to warm the lube between his fingers before he brought them down to prep Miles. His work roughened palms were gentle as he parted Miles’ legs, hunger in his eyes as he admired that pink little hole.

Carefully, deliberately, Rhett smoothed his slick fingers where Miles needed him most, touch teasing and light as he circled his entrance. Any other time, Rhett might have drawn things out and made Miles beg for it. But after going without for so long, that just seemed downright cruel. Especially when Miles batted his pretty lashes at Rhett, bottom lip quivering from the force of his neediness.

Rhett ducked forward, capturing those sweet lips in a kiss as he eased two fingers inside Miles, drinking down his broken whimper like it was some sort of heavenly nectar.

He was so pretty like this. Already fucked out. In this lust-addled state, Miles’ inhibitions essentially went out the window. He was more vocal. Unashamed of his own desperation.

As Rhett’s fingers stretched him, Miles sank deeper and deeper into that blissful state, eyes going unfocused, mouth open to let out those precious squeaks that Rhett adored so much.

Miles trembled against the plushness of the mattress, blindly searching for one of Rhett’s hands to hold. In the haze of his own pleasure, Miles thought briefly that it was slightly pathetic just how needy and responsive he was. But he couldn’t help it, could he? His body was reacting of its own violation. His brain was just along for the ride.

Through the haze, he heard Rhett’s voice. A low rumble in his chest. Murmured words of praise. “Look at that. Pretty li’l ass opened right up for my fingers. Like you were made to take me, huh?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah. Was made f’you,” Miles managed to slur, mouth loose around the syllables. Intoxicated, not off of any sort of substance, but off of pure, unbridled arousal.

Rhett spent a little more time readying the man beneath him, guiding his fingers deeper. He splayed his hand against Miles’ lower abdomen, touch warm and grounding. Wordlessly encouraging him to relax.

And relax, he did. His legs parted further, his body sank into the comfort of the quilt beneath him. The very quilt he had sewn together with his own hands, made from various patches of fabric, many of which held sentimental value. Including pieces of Rhett’s favorite childhood blanket.

The quilt was a wedding gift Miles had presented to Rhett the night they got married. And now, it provided a source of grounding comfort as Miles melted into it.

Safe. Protected. Enveloped in his husband’s warmth.

“I’m ready.” Miles surprised even himself with how quickly and decisively he said it. He needed Rhett inside him. The thought of waiting another minute was unbearable. “Please, sir. Can’t wait any longer.”

That did it. Rhett’s lashes fluttered, mouth parting as his cheeks went ruddy with warmth. “Yeah? Poor baby. Gonna give you what you need.” He brought his hand up to cup Miles’ scarred cheek, thumb swiping over his lips. Miles took the digit greedily, mouth wrapping around it, relishing in its weight against his tongue.

When his gaze flickered up to meet Rhett’s, the cowboy’s breath caught in his throat, dick twitching between his thighs. At that point it was just cruel to make Miles wait any longer.

Rhett eased his fingers out of the man beneath him, swallowing his soft whimper with a kiss, before he reached over to take hold of the bottle of lube once again.

He used a generous amount, not wanting to take any chance of possibly hurting Miles. Once Rhett was certain he’d used enough lube, he finally situated himself between Miles’ parted thighs, taking a moment to admire how pretty he was like this. Pliant and needy, eager for whatever Rhett was going to give him.

Next came what was one of Rhett’s favorite moments whenever he made love to his husband. It was the sight of that sweet, handsome face crumpling into a mask of utter bliss as he eased his hips forward.

The head of his cock only just breached Miles’ entrance, and already, his eyes were rolling back, mouth falling open, chest heaving as he took in a trembling breath.

Rhett carefully pushed Miles’ thighs further apart, knees up near his chest. Holding him like that, he continued to ease forward, inch by inch, gauging Miles’ face for any signs of discomfort. But there were none.

In fact, Miles began to softly plead, “more, more, more.”

So Rhett gave it to him. He pressed his hips down until Miles had taken all that he could. And then, in a breathless whimper, he sighed out, “thank youuu.”

Rhett’s head was spinning as he stared down in awe at the man he loved. So perfect and pliant, so utterly devoted. In this moment, trembling with desire, Rhett knew Miles would do anything he asked. Anything at all.

But Rhett had never, and would never, abuse that sacred trust. In his most vulnerable state, Miles could give himself over to his husband, and know that he would take care of him in every way he needed.

“There ya go. That’s what you needed, huh darlin’?”

Miles’ bottom lip quivered as he nodded. “Yes, yes, it’s everythin’ I needed!”

Rhett surged forth, elbows resting on the mattress, at either side of Miles’ head, caging him in. Instinctively, Miles wrapped his legs around the narrow plane of Rhett’s waist, pulling him even closer. Chest to chest, hearts beating as one.

“S’alright if I move, or do you need a minute?”

With a nod of his head, Miles replied, “you can move.”

He couldn’t describe it with mere words, but the feeling of being connected like this, in the most intimate way possible, brought a sense of all consuming peace upon Miles. It was more than just physical. The connection was emotional, he might even go as far as to say it was spiritual.

Sex wasn’t simply a means to an end. A way to get off, to let off some steam. It was special, sweet, intimate. Even when they were participating in kink scenes, there was always a level of tenderness and care just beneath the surface. A reminder that they had each other. That, together, they were safe and loved.

“Missed this so much,” Rhett gasped, voice strained as he eased his hips back, only to thrust forward once again. “Can’t believe I went a whole month without you.” Another thrust.

Too overcome to speak, Miles tilted his head, searching for Rhett’s lips. As they kissed, they swallowed one another’s sounds of pleasure, as if they could consume each other’s souls this way, two becoming one.

Chest to chest, hip to hip, there was no way to tell where one began and the other ended. And that was how they preferred it. Wrapped around each other wholly and completely.

Before Miles, Rhett’s relationship with sex was hurried, impersonal fucks that left him unfulfilled. He’d always said he wasn’t the type to settle down, but that was a bold faced lie that he told himself, because he truly believed he would never meet anyone who would want to spend the rest of their life with him.

How wrong he’d been. Now he had a sweet husband who went weak in the knees at the mere concept of him sporting a beard. Life was good.

Beneath him, Miles lost himself to the warm press of Rhett’s body against his own. The feeling of that gorgeous beard against his cheek, the side of his neck, the column of his throat. Rhett had essentially turned into an affectionate cat, rubbing his face all over the whining, moaning, quivering man beneath him.

Miles welcomed it, relishing in the contact, the closeness. The sensations rippling through him were increasing, the heat of pleasure growing tenfold. All he knew was the feeling of Rhett’s cock within him, thick and unrelenting. And then, with just the right angle of his hips, he nudged into that spot that sent Miles trembling against the bed like a live wire.

“Oh!” He yelped, one hand gripping at the sheets, the other thrown around Rhett’s shoulders as he searched for something to ground himself.

Rhett grunted, hips stuttering, though his pace didn’t slow. “Yeah, that’s your spot, ain’t it bubba?” He gave Miles a moment to adjust to the sensation, and he could feel the way his cock twitched between them, wet and shiny, leaking steadily with each thrust.

And it seemed to send forth even more slick as the head of Rhett’s cock bullied against that sensitive little button. If there was one thing that always turned Rhett on to no end, it was how wet Miles got.

Rhett couldn’t resist bringing his hand between their joined bodies, fist closing around that fevered cock that smeared against the skin of their lower abdomens. At the added stimulation, Miles wailed softly, drunk from the pleasure, already in a daze.

“Can ya talk to me, sweetie? Tell me what you’re feelin’?” Rhett cooed, strained as it was.

“I-I-I…” Miles’ mouth started working before his brain could catch up, a response at being given a gentle command from the man above him. It took him a moment to gather enough wits to speak. “Fuh–feels…oh! Feels in-incredible, sir! Not gonna last!”

Rhett was impressed Miles was even able to get a coherent word out. “Yeah? You close already?” For emphasis, he swirled his thumb around the blushing tip of Miles’ cock, drawing a broken gasp out of him at the contact.

“Yes! Yes!”

Offering another deep, deliberate thrust, Rhett ducked forward, mouth hovering over Miles’. “Hold it f’me, just a little bit longer, alright?”

A tearful nod was all the confirmation he needed. So Rhett slowed things way down, drawing his hips back and carefully, steadily driving them forward again. Not hurried, not rough. Just a deep, prolonged connection.

When Miles pawed at Rhett, gripping his shoulders for purchase, Rhett took the initiative to wrap his husband in his arms. With practiced ease, he guided Miles into his chest, maneuvering them both until Rhett was on his knees on the bed, and Miles was in his lap.

There, they moved in tandem. Instinctively, Miles rolled his hips against Rhett’s with each thrust he made beneath him. A rhythm was developed, a steady push and pull that had them gasping and moaning into one another’s mouths.

Their bodies were attuned to one another, a certain flow to their movements that spoke of their connection to one another. Miles might describe that connection as spiritual, in a way. Rhett, a man of fewer words, didn’t know how to describe it. All he knew was that he loved the man in his arms more than words could say.

He held Miles a little tighter, a little closer. Sharing in one another’s warmth. Sweat dampened their bodies, skin slick against skin as their desperation mounted, growing more overwhelming still.

Miles found himself seeking out Rhett’s mouth, but he could hardly find his faculties to initiate a kiss, his mind was too far gone, enveloped in a safe, warm blanket of bliss. Mouth hot and wet against Rhett’s, Miles whimpered, “love you, love you, love you.”

Bodies pressed tightly against one another, with each shift of his hips, Miles’ cock was pressed between the plane of his own abdomen, and Rhett’s. The combination of lube and sweat provided a deliciously wet friction. That, along with the steady push and pull of Rhett inside him was enough to send Miles’ brain into overdrive.

What followed wasn’t necessarily a black out, it was more so an all-encompassing rush of molten pleasure, sparking through his veins like firecrackers. The sounds that left his mouth were pathetic and unrestrained, loud whimpers and squeals with each thrust of Rhett’s cock. Miles had lost all sense of decorum, and he was too far gone to even care.

As he held his blissed out husband, Rhett basked in those pretty little sounds, and he knew, by the way Miles trembled, like a leaf in the wind, that he was close.

So he decided to help him along. He knew exactly what to say to send his sweetheart over the edge.

Grinding deep inside him, Rhett murmured lowly against the shell of Miles’ ear, “you’re gonna squirt for me, ain’t you, bubba?”

Miles whimpered, mouth open, eyes watering. He tried to answer, tried to say yes, yes, yes, but all that came out was an incoherent warble.

Rhett’s strong, but gentle, hand came up to cup Miles’ blushing cheek. He kissed him, open-mouthed, tongues sliding over each other. And then he pulled back to speak again, “let go, I’ve got ya.”

So Miles let himself fall, because he knew Rhett was there to catch him. It all came to its peak when that delicious, sizzling pleasure engulfed him, sparks igniting at the base of his spine, the constant nudge of Rhett’s cock against that sensitive spot within him sent Miles plummeting.

He cried out against Rhett’s mouth, jolting in his arms like a live wire as it overtook him. Everything that had been pent up in the time they had been apart was now released. A steady, viscous torrent that spilled from Miles, hot and pulsing, soaking himself and Rhett in the process.

He could hear the breathless murmur of Rhett’s voice, talking him through it, but the rush of blood pounding in his ears made it impossible to make out a single word.

“That’s it,” Rhett was saying, words strained as he fought against his own mounting pleasure. “Let it all out.” What a sight to behold, as Miles fell apart. He was gorgeous. Perfect. Ethereal. A heavenly being sent from above.

Rhett cradled him close, hips still rolling upward, even as that tight ring of muscle spasmed around him, sending him dangerously close to the edge. He would hold Miles through his first, and only then would Rhett let himself cum.

But for Miles, it seemingly had no end. Tears sprang to his eyes, spilling down the warmth of his flushed cheeks, meeting at the apex of his chin. And Rhett leaned back to lick those tears away, cooing at his beloved as he wept.

“Ca-can’t stop!” Miles squeaked, “th- ah! - there’s so much!”

“Shh, s’alright,” came Rhett’s groan. He allowed himself a glance between their joined bodies, eyes hazy and heavy-lidded as he took in the sight of the mess. “Good boy. Such a good boy.”

Finally, finally, Miles slumped forward, still shivering with the aftershocks as the intensity began to ebb. Whimpering, gasping, he babbled repeatedly, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“I’m right there, bub,” Rhett gritted, muscular thighs trembling beneath Miles. “Can ya take a little more?”

Barely able to form a reply, Miles managed a “mhm!”

So Rhett’s large, warm hands came down to grip Miles’ hips, holding him in place as he rocked his own upward. Several deliberate strokes soon brought Rhett to his own end, and he all but crushed Miles to his chest as he let go.

Nose buried into the softness of Miles’ hair, Rhett breathed in as his orgasm washed over him. Deep inside his husband, his release spilled forth, marking him, claiming him. A primal act that only heightened Rhett’s pleasure, and reignited Miles’.

Miles couldn’t help the broken moan that tore itself from the depths of his throat as that sinful, slick warmth filled him to the brim. There was something so primal about it. His heart skipped a beat at the feeling.

Chest heaving, pulse thundering, Rhett slowly came down, still twitching inside Miles. A blanket of calming quiet settled over the two, save for their labored breathing. They needed a moment to gather themselves, to enjoy the closeness before it was time to part.

Rhett tightened his arms around Miles, nuzzling the side of his neck. It was then that Miles began to giggle, a soft, musical sound that made Rhett laugh.

“Whatcha laughin’ at?”

“Your beard tickles.”

That brought a grin to Rhett’s face. “Yeah?”

Too late, Miles realized his error. “Wait!”

But Rhett had already buried his face into Miles’ neck again, purposely rubbing his beard into the sensitive skin until Miles was laughing openly, shoving at Rhett’s chest. However, the full body tremor that ran through Miles as he laughed was instant, unintentional payback for Rhett teasing him with the beard, because the movement caused him to clench around Rhett’s softening, sensitive cock.

He hissed softly, shuddering at the feeling.

“Sorry, sorry,” Miles apologized, trying to still his laughter.

Rhett shook his head, eyes glimmering with amusement. “S’alright, I’m the one who got you all giggly.” He lovingly bumped noses with Miles. When their lips met, it wasn’t hungry or desperate. Instead, it was tender, sweet, gentle.

When they parted, Miles seemed to finally register the aftermath of their passion. He glanced down, lashes fluttering as he took in the sight of his pearlescent release, sticky against his abdomen. “Made a mess.”

“Yeah you did,” Rhett said with a knowing smile. “Guess we need another shower, huh?”

“I’ll say.”

Although they both wished to linger a little longer, Rhett knew that Miles hated the feeling of cum drying on his skin, and he wanted to prioritize his comfort by getting him cleaned up first before they did anything else.

“Want your plug back in?” Rhett asked.

Cheeks warming, Miles nodded. “Please.”

What followed was careful maneuvering as Rhett lowered Miles onto the bed, kissing him sweetly to swallow his whine as he eased his cock out. Rhett moved quickly, quick to locate the previously discarded plug. Retrieving a pack of wet wipes from the bedside table, he wiped the plug clean, and then returned to ease it back inside Miles.

It slid inside with ease, and the moment it was in place, Miles let out a soft sigh of relief. Then, Rhett hovered over him, moving to kiss his nose before he said, “let’s go rinse off, okay bubba?”

They found themselves in the shower once again, and this time, it was Rhett who reverently washed his husband. Few words were spoken as they engaged in aftercare. There was no urgency, no hurriedness. Just the two of them relishing in the intimacy of being together. All was right with the world now that they were reunited, here in their cozy little home.

Once they were finished rinsing off, they were quick to change into pajamas. Rhett into a pair of lounge pants, sans shirt, and Miles into one of Rhett’s ratty old rodeo t-shirts and a pair of boxer shorts.

Sleepy eyed, they made their way downstairs, where Miles dished up bowls of slowly simmered stew. They enjoyed their meal at the kitchen table they had built together when they were newly married.

Matilda the cat decided to curl up on Rhett’s lap as he ate.

“Look at her. She missed Daddy so much,” Miles pointed out in amusement, leaning back in his chair, stew long since finished as.

Rhett hummed, lovingly scratching her little velveteen head. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he said, “not as much as you missed Daddy though, huh?”

Miles rolled his eyes playfully, leaning toward Rhett. “Oh, I definitely missed you more than she did, Daddy.” Throwing the name right back in Rhett’s face seemed to spark a fresh wave of desire through him, and with a smirk, he reached out to tug Miles closer, but he was too quick for the cowboy, darting just out of reach.

“Get back here!”

“Can’t catch me, you’ll disturb Matilda’s nap.”

“You evil li’l thang.”

A triumphant smile warmed Miles’ face as he waltzed over to the kitchen window to retrieve the apple pie. “Will you accept pie as a peace offering?”

Rhett relented, leaning back against his chair. “Maybe.”

“With a nice big scoop of vanilla ice cream?”

“Fine.”

That was exactly what Rhett got. A generous slice of pie with a hefty scoop of vanilla bean-flecked ice cream. A comforting warmth spread through Rhett’s chest as he took the first bite. Sweet, cinnamon-y goodness, balanced by the slight tartness of the perfectly cooked apples.

“Fuck me, this is incredible as usual, bub,” he murmured around a mouthful of pie.

Miles beamed over his own slice of pie. He found great joy in watching Rhett enjoy the food he made. “Glad you like it.”

With fondness softening his features, Rhett leaned forward, hand coming up to rest over Miles’ own. “You take such good care of me. S’good to be home with you, where I belong.”

Miles turned his hand over, intertwining his fingers with Rhett’s. “You better not leave again, you hear me, cowboy?”

Rhett grinned, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Don’t think I could stand another month without ya.”

A serious look settled onto Miles’ face. “In all seriousness, I love how hard you work to make sure our little family is taken care of. Always know I can depend on you.”

Rhett’s eyes glimmered, heart growing warm in his chest. “Lookin’ out for you is important to me.”

“I know. And I love you for it.” Leaning across the table, Miles kissed Rhett sweetly, hand lifting to run his fingers through that beard. “By the way, you better keep this gorgeous beard.”

A grin spread across Rhett’s face. “Anythin’ for you, bubba.”

-

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