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A young Dutch paddles the boat across the dark lake in a hectic frenzy as bullets whip past him and the boat. Hosea duel-wields him and Dutch’s revolvers as he shoots back at the recent victims of the two’s tomfoolery. Beads of sweat fall down the two as the night’s mist atop the water hides the view of the old shore, but with that, the shots fall from a downpour to a drizzle, then to clear skies.
The two land on the other end of the lake in a thud. Dutch heaves the recent haul of valuables over his shoulder, following Hosea in the brambles of the humid forest. Hosea stops around 400 meters in the trees and leans against an old birch, heaving with his lungs withered from cigars.
“You... You okay?” Hosea breathes out after four long breaths, his tired eyes making contact with Dutch.
“I’m fine, Old Girl,” Dutch laughs, adjusting the satchel of gold over his shoulder, “Are you okay? You’re heaving up a lung.”
“I’ll be fine…” Hosea straightened his back and began walking further into the forest, “We need to find somewhere to set up camp.”
“Fine then, whatever you say.” Dutch follows behind. He notices Hosea’s eyes still glaring through the trees, the clammy hands still holding on to both their guns in a quiet panic. A few times Hosea would look back at Dutch with this gloss in his eyes that had a slight shimmer even though the tree leaves covered any light that could come from the night sky. Dutch liked it when he took notice of Hosea’s eyes, he hoped that there was something about himself that Hosea likes too.
It was a long walk, that’s undeniable, but the talk of future adventures made it bearable between the two. The adamancy of them coming up with the ‘perfect plan’ with the ‘perfect execution’ to end up with them living the ‘perfect life’ is a frequent conversation between the two. It’s a broken record of how much their fantasies get re-iterated, always ending up going overseas somewhere.
“I think I’d like Tahiti,” Hosea remarks, his smile being subtle but still noticeable enough for Dutch to entertain the idea.
“Tahiti? Where’s that?” Dutch giggled, “You know I’m not the brains of this operation.”
“South-Pacific Ocean,” Hosea replies coyly, “We can just sail off and eat mangoes all day.”
“Magoes?” Dutch giggled again, “We’re just living off mangoes? That’s our ‘perfect life?’”
“There’s pineapple,” Hosea rolls his eyes, taking his glance from Dutch to the surrounding woods, “We could also just fish the entire day, never having to shoot a gun again.”
“I don’t think I’m cut out for that,” Dutch smirked as he leaned over to Hosea, “You know I am always one with my good ol’ gun.”
“Well you should be, now,” Hosea muttered as the trees brought an opening in the canopy to a small cottage. There’s no light emulating from the cottage and there are no horses hitched up on the surrounding fence, but even with this desolate land there was still a need for worry.
“I’ll check if someone’s in there.” Dutch grabs his revolver from Hosea, crouching down with the satchel of valuables still on his back. There’s no noise as Dutch creeps up the front steps of the cottage, but Hosea still cocks his revolver and raises it to the front door.
Dutch rattles the doorknob and slides in as he opens the creaking door. The only sound that Hosea can now hear is crickets chirping from a distance and now the only thing he can see is a moonlit cottage. Hosea holds his breath in his weak lungs, biting the inside of his cheek as he hovers his index finger over the trigger. It’s silent.
“No one here!” Dutch’s voice echoes out from the cottage, bringing a wave of relief down Hosea’s spine. He runs up to the old front steps and through the even older door to Dutch already making himself home.
The cabin is small, which isn’t a surprise from what was seen on the outside. It seems abandoned, like someone up and left but the built-up cobwebs show that they never came back. Dutch bent down and opened the small kitchen cabinet to see the jungle of canned food left over, they could stay here for a few days and not even have to hunt. Hosea lit the candle at the center of the dining table with the old matches.
The satchel lay up against the nightstand tucked in the corner of the room along with the twin bed. Hosea sat himself down at the withered dining room table and faced Dutch who looked more than pleased with himself.
“Look what we came across!” Dutch smiled as he paraded himself around the room enthusiastically, pointing out everything down to the bricks on the fireplace, “What luck we have!”
Hosea stood up and continued looking around the cabin for anything of worth, “Now don’t get too excited…”
“Dooont caaaree,” Dutch groaned as he sat on the edge of the bed. He took off his leather boots as he listened to Hosea come back with his quick wit, Dutch later outstretching himself on the cheap mattress.
“Fine, whatever you want to believe.” Hosea grabbed a dusted book from a cabinet and turned to Dutch, making his way to the bed, “These people at least left a book. That’ll be something to help me drown out your fantasies.”
“For someone that doesn’t have a job you sure do read a lot,” Dutch remarked as Hosea sat at the edge of the bed, gliding his fingers through the pages of the book.
“Sure feels like I have a job,” Hosea yawned, leaning back on Dutch’s legs, squinting to read the first pages of the book, “Dealing with you is enough of a chore.”
“Once we sell all this loot,” Dutch gestured to the bag, still lying up against the nightstand, “You’ll be stuck to me like a parasite.”
“Or I can run off with my half.”
Dutch held his breath for half a second, trying to appear as nonchalant as he usually does. Dutch knows that’s an empty threat, Hosea always comes running back to him.
Dutch placed his hand on Hosea’s shoulder and stated with a low rasp, “You’ll never do that.”
“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.” Hosea took his eyes off the book and looked up to Dutch’s black eyes, darker than the night outside, “But chances are, I won’t. You are certainly a parasite.”
“At least we mutually suck each other of what we got,” Dutch groaned as he leaned back on the bedframe, adjusting his legs under Hosea’s spine to be more comfortable, “Like hookworm, or leeches, or whatever Lagras gives us.”
“That’s how we are,” Hosea remarked, halfway giggling, “sucking each other dry.”
Dutch understood what Hosea meant, “Oh, Hosea,” Dutch leaned over the other man as he glided his hand on Hosea’s vest, teasing the buttons slightly, “Are you saying what I think you are saying?”
“It’s up to you to interpret it,” Hosea placed the book on the side of the bed, grazing his fingers over Dutch’s hand.
“I think you want to celebrate,” Dutch replies in a low hoarse, adjusting his legs so he can slide out from Hosea’s weight. As he did, he couldn’t help but notice Hosea’s face turning slightly crimson, knowing what was going to happen.
“This happens too much,” Hosea admitted as he sat himself up, meeting Dutch face to face.
“It doesn’t happen enough.” Dutch replies as he cups his hand under Hosea’s jaw, rubbing his thumb against the peach fuzz that Hosea shaves so adamantly. Dutch leans in and brushes his lips against Hosea’s, asking for an entrance to the other’s mouth. A warm breath from Hosea invites Dutch in, and their lips lock together with a serenity that almost makes them forget they’re murdering thieves. Hosea brought his hands to Dutch’s waist, squeezing the muscular shape through the leather vest, wanting to feel what was underneath.
Dutch ran his tongue over Hosea’s chapped lips, eyelashes fluttering to make eye contact with his partner in crime. He brought his calloused hands down to Hosea’s gun belt, unfastening the gold-plated buckle and letting it fall on the ground. Dutch’s thumb teased the buttons on Hosea’s pants, and he could already feel Hosea’s cock getting hard through the worn fabric. Hosea gave a slight nod to Dutch’s advances, bringing his own hands down from Dutch’s waist to the man’s hips.
Dutch unbuttoned Hosea’s pants to a small gasp of approval escaping his lips. He already had begun to thumb the band of Hosea’s drawers, placing his hand up against the blond pubic hair in the process. They detached from each other’s lips, allowing them both to see Dutch’s slow work on Hosea, growing like a rumbling hunger.
Hosea shuffled himself to allow Dutch to pull the drawers and pants down but Dutch still held the fabric overtop Hosea’s hardened length. Dutch curved his back down to face the bulging fabric, then left a kiss on Hosea’s covered cock. His eyes went from the vulnerability of Hosea to Hosea’s face itself, redder than before, with admiration of the man between his legs.
Dutch released Hosea’s penis from the confines of the fabric, springing up like a snake in Lagras. Dutch admired this sight as he had done hundreds of times before, and each time he did the dead look in his eyes would become alive from this beautiful vulnerability. He never got this feeling from women, paid or not. Only when he graced his eyes with the sight of Hosea’s cock he felt a lovely rush go down his spine, assuring himself that a life of crime and running away from the law was worth it.
He left a kiss on the shaft and straightened his back to face Hosea once more, their eyes locking together with a gentle fury. Dutch leaned down on Hosea’s neck and began to suck every crevice, feeling Hosea’s Adam’s apple bob as he did. Dutch began to undo his own trousers as Hosea wrapped his arms around the other’s torso. Hosea didn’t want to let go of this moment, or the money in the satchel, or the rush of running from the law, he didn’t want to let go of Dutch and everything that came along with it.
That grip increased when Hosea felt the tip of Dutch’s cock brush up with his own, like duel-wielding pistols. Dutch detached from Hosea’s now bruised neck and locked lips with him once more. Slipping his tongue in to taste the shared mix of whiskey and tobacco, grinding themselves against each other.
“Wait, no-” Hosea backed away with a crimson red face, precum already slipping from his cock.
“What is it?” Dutch placed his hand on Hosea’s breast pocket with as much concern as an outlaw can give, which is surprisingly a lot.
“I want to try something,” Hosea admitted softly, bringing his hand down to the tip of Dutch’s cock which twitched in response, “Can we suck each other off?”
“You should’ve said so!” Dutch laughed as he adjusted his knees. He doesn’t get why Hosea would be so embarrassed to ask, they have done oral hundreds of times before, “Who first?”
“No, we go at the same time.” Hosea iterated as his face developed a deep red, “One of us lies down, my head at your cock and your’s at mine. It might be awkward, but I wanted to try it…”
Dutch’s face went red as well, now he understood why Hosea was embarrassed.
“I am not against trying new things,” Dutch smiled, “You can lie down, I’ll try to see what I can do for my Old Girl.”
Hosea melted at that, he loved it when Dutch called him his ‘Old Girl.’ Dutch called him it once on a night spent together and ever since then it’s become their thing. Hosea was Dutch’s ‘Old Girl,’ even though he certainly wasn’t old or a girl, it was nice to be his . Heat ran through his body as he lay himself down on the creaking bed, watching Dutch position his cock over his chapped lips as Dutch positioned his warm lips above Hosea’s cock.
“Is this what you wanted?” Dutch crooked his head, trying to catch eyesight of Hosea.
Hosea looked back to Dutch and replied with a whimpered, “mhm, please…”
Dutch lowered his hips down into Hosea’s soft mouth as he lowered his own head onto Hosea’s cock. Hosea brought his hands onto Dutch’s hip bones, trying to feel every sweet taste Dutch has to offer the other man. Dutch began to bob his head up and down Hosea’s prolonged length, feeling the soft moans of approval from Hosea through his cock. This experience was nearly heavenly, the two men pleasuring each other at the same time on an old abandoned bed after robbing an estate. It’s perfect for Dutch and his Old Girl.
They both started to grind their hips down each other’s throats, face fucking each other mutually. Hosea bucking his hips into the crevices of Dutch’s mouth and Dutch lowering his hips down the warm hole of Hosea’s throat. Usually, sex between the two was one taking all authority and the other becoming the bitch of the night. Sometimes they would switch turns when they gave oral if the other hadn’t cum in their hand already, other than that it was chance and how they felt for the night. But now, they were both pleasuring each other as equally as they possibly could. It felt good .
Their pace began to speed up, their balls occasionally brushing up against the other’s noses as they thrust in an orchestral rhythm. Both gripped each other’s thighs with a fever that could only be described as lust and the sound between them could only be described the same. Skin-on-skin contact repeating with muffled moans from warm cocks along with a creaking bed is a sound that is akin to a melody between the two men.
Hosea hummed the sweetest things that he could think of through his stuffed mouth, and he would feel Dutch replying through a soft moan, a shift in pace, or both. Hosea began to feel the warmth of his own cock building up as precum dripped down his throat. He knew he was about to cum, and a part of him knew Dutch was going to as well.
A few more quick thrusts into Dutch’s mouth and he felt semen shooting out of his cock like bullets. Hosea felt Dutch suck nearly every drop as he began to speed up his pace in Hosea’s mouth, to then a release of bitter warmth sliding down Hosea’s throat like a waterfall.
Dutch removed himself from Hosea’s cock, a few drops of cum sliding down his chin and dropping on his velvet vest. He removed his cock from Hosea’s mouth to turn and face the man he had just face-fucked. Hosea’s green eyes were in pure ecstasy as he heaved from the rush he felt, cum still hanging on the crevices in his mouth.
“How was that, Old Girl?” Dutch asked as he layed down beside Hosea. He kissed the other man, allowing them to taste each other through their now plump lips, exchanging each other’s vulnerabilities through this kiss, grazing each other’s hands up and down their bodies.
“It was great,” Hosea smirked, cupping Dutch’s face, and leaving a kiss on his cheek, “Thanks for doing this for me.”
“I’m glad you told me,” Dutch stroked Hosea’s hair with a soft love that only Hosea would ever be able to feel, “It was fun.”
“I’m glad,” Hosea replied, then kissing Dutch once again, interlocking each other in their arms, their limp cocks still open to the air. They rolled over each other like they were playing with each other’s bodies with pure innocence. Their legs intertangled, trying to become one through the process.
“I love you,” Hosea admitted when their kiss split apart, holding Dutch like a sacred treasure.
“I love you, too,” Dutch smiled and Hosea felt a wave of love through his body. Dutch never liked saying he loved anyone or anything, normally he would reply with something similar to ‘I love you’ but never the words ‘I love you’ itself.
Hosea smiled and wished he could hold a moment like that forever, but all he could do was hold Dutch. He gripped onto Dutch like his life depended on it, inhaling Dutch’s scent of sweat and cigars. Dutch held Hosea back with the affection only young love could bring, the sweetness that they could never forget.
For the whole night, they stayed holding each other. A part between the two of them wishes that they could die like that, always holding each other, just two skeletons for the next duo of outlaws to find. Their existence being a reminder that even in a life running from the law, there could still be love.
But now they couldn’t know if they were going to die, so they held each other as the stars moved across the sky, past the sun rising and even past when they were awake. The many years together would be the same. It would just be Dutch and his Old Girl together, experiencing something they could never find in anyone else.