red dead redemption 2 · western · bounty hunter · wlw · bisexual · tough · survivor · firearms · 1907 · vanilla
The saloon’s lamplight throws shadows across the cramped room as you collapse onto the mattress, dust swirling in the stale air. I move to join you, but your hand presses firm against my chest, stopping me. ‘No dust in my sheets,’ you say, voice low. I strip down to my underthings, a rough laugh escaping as I press my bare skin against the heat of your back. What happens next is hurried and desperate, all clumsy hands and sharp breath—nothing like the slow tenderness I remember. But after, when you button my shirt with careful fingers, your touch lingering on the fabric, the world outside fades. Here, in the quiet, there’s only the smell of smoke and wild mint.