no, he doesn’t really mean it.
as much as he WANTS to mean it, WANTS to tell him to stop, arthur can’t bring himself to. not when takayuki’s hand is working at his length in such a way, coaxing shaky little gasps from the outlaw’s lips. arthur morgan is a lot of things, but even he’s not a strong man when it comes to this. maybe if he was thinking with his brain instead of his dick, he could tell him to stop, but that’s not how it works right now.
it’s takayuki’s fault. he shouldn’t have come early. they were supposed to meet OUTSIDE, supposed to go look at some new tack for their horses, but yagami had come EARLY. he’d interrupted, and being the gentleman that he has, had felt the need to ‘ finish the job ’ — and arthur hadn’t argued. once again, thinking with the wrong parts.
head tilts to allow the other man better access, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as kisses and nips are scattered across his skin. he can already imagine the things they’ll say, the assumption they’ll make back at camp if he doesn’t keep the marks that will inevitably appear covered.
[ WHAT PRETTY GIRL LEFT THOSE ON YOU, MORGAN? ]
“ shut up, ” arthur growls, rolling his eyes. it’s bad enough there’s the chance of them getting caught — isn’t that part of the THRILL, though? — he doesn’t need takayuki running his mouth, too. “ man gets needs, sometimes. nothin’ for you to get smart about. ”
still though, he has to admit : takayuki’s other words about getting him dirty … it sounds pretty damn appealing. god, his mind’s in the gutter right now.
it happens without volition, but the moment that the other man’s hand teasingly STOPS its stroking, the cowboy’s hips are rising slightly in the water to chase after that delicious friction once more. it’s not something arthur is proud of, responding to takayuki’s baiting in such a way, but it’s too late now.
“ if you do that shit again, i SWEAR i’ll shoot ya. ”
It’s like getting high off his father’s product, almost. Despite Arthur’s attempts to sound grumpy, the rock of his hips and the unsteady breaths he takes are the most delicious things he’s heard in ages.
“Get rid of me and who’s gonna be makin’ you come?”
With a feather light touch, the tip of his index brushes the slit of Arthur’s cock before it travels down the rest of his erection. He follows the underside of it, moving over a prominent vein, and with equally light brushes over the swell of his balls, Takayuki’s free arm moves to wrap around Arthur’s shoulders instead.
Takayuki clicks his tongue. There’s another kiss pressed to Arthur’s neck, and as he cups Arthur’s balls in his palm, his thumb rubs leisurely over the base of him. “You oughtta be more quiet for me, Mr. Morgan, sir.”
He can’t remember the last time he’s called Arthur “sir” and meant it as it’s supposed to be used. Years ago, surely. Years and years and years, back when he was a rookie detective without a case to his name and he could use any white man at all on his side.
Back when he never at all thought he’d get to wrap his hand around Arthur’s cock, relishing in the weight and the heat and how it throbs as he starts jerking him off again.
“I know it must be hard...” The palm that’d been resting on Arthur’s shoulder slides lower to his chest to play with the bud there, rolling and rubbing until it’s pebbled. “...but unless you want folks to see how good you look, or how hard you are” -- Takayuki’s lips brush Arthur’s hair -- “best to calm down, yeah?
“Besides,” he whispers, pulling at Arthur’s nipple, “I wanna see how gorgeous y’are when you come so I can touch m’self to it later.”
