When Lucy's palm connects with Flynn's face in the utter silence of the forest the sound hurts Wyatt's ear nearly as much as the slap must have hurt Flynn. Wyatt is concerned for the state of Lucy's hand for a moment; how could a bird-boned girl land such a whack without snapping something?
'You didn't have to kill that man!' Lucy shouts at Flynn without missing a beat. 'He was no threat to us.' She holds up one index finger, lecturing style. Pure Lucy.
Flynn drops his rifle to the ground, catches her wrist and tightens his fist around it. Wyatt moves closer to them, he can't let him treat Lucy like that.
'Hey man, knock it off' he warns. 'Release her.'
'Stay out of this, Wyatt.' Lucy's voice is clear and confident. 'I can handle him.'
Wyatt stops, puffs and rolls his eyes. Try to help an independent woman…
She pulls on Flynn's hold and her hand is miraculously free in a moment.
'He didn't have to die' she repeats.
'He saw us, he could have told our pursuers which way we went.' Flynn reasons.
'By then we would have been gone. You didn' . .him.' Her every word seems to lash out at the time bandit. He looks like he understands and purses his lips before he speaks:
'Alright, perhaps you are right' he breathes. 'I'm sorry.'
'You're sorry? You're sorry? He is dead, he won't come back, because you say you are sorry.' She is getting louder and louder. 'You don't get to be sorry!'
'Lucy, I don't think this is the time…' Wyatt tries to stop her, but he can't finish the sentence, because now Garcia is the one who starts getting back at her.
'You don't get to tell me what I can be or what I can do!' he hisses. 'You don't understand anything, Lucy. ANYTHING.' The poison of contempt seeps from the last word and Lucy cannot help herself. She leaps at him and starts punching his chest with all the strength she can muster. She looks determined and angry and she isn't about to stop any time soon.
Flynn's reaction is sudden and Wyatt's heart starts hammering inside as a hidden answer to the older man's insolence; for the bastard is kissing Lucy now – roughly, mercilessly… passionately. He is hanging on her lips, like he has no tomorrow and Lucy seems strangely okay with that, despite the act of anger and frustration she has just displayed. With one hand Flynn is holding Lucy's head in place but they touch in no other way; Lucy is not a prisoner; she is not forced to tolerate Flynn's closeness.
Wyatt's mind is slow and blunt for seconds, he is confused and doesn't know what to do. He is relieved when the kiss is cut short abruptly: Flynn jumps back a bit and runs a finger over his bottom lip.
Wyatt thinks he sees blood, but before he can make sure of it Lucy is in Flynn's arms again, this time literally in his arms, the guy is pulling her to him and Wyatt can only suspect that Lucy can feel Flynn's erection between her legs, because she sighs softly at the contact.
Wyatt wants to move, wants to drag Flynn away from Lucy, give him a beating that will make him remember he has no right to touch Lucy like that, but other than the anger, he also feels all hot and bothered all of a sudden, and so he stays where he is, paralysed and irritated.
This time Lucy starts the kiss, then pulls away soon enough and slaps the man neatly for the second time. Flynn roars and turns them around, pushing Lucy up against the trunk of a tree. He starts kissing her neck and the moan that Lucy presents sends jolts of pleasure to Wyatt's midsection. He would hate to admit he likes what he sees, but thank God he is not required to say anything at the moment.
He should do something, he knows, but struggles to decide the right course of action... up until the moment Lucy's eyes meet his. She is looking straight at him, her chin nestled in Flynn's dark locks, her face flushed, her eyes dark with desire. For a moment Wyatt wonders when was the last time she was pleasured by a man, she looks so needy and willing, and Wyatt curses himself hard for not being the first to offer his services. But she is inviting him now, with her gaze, with her sighs and yes… she has just said his name as Flynn's hand disappeared beneath the many folds of her skirt. This is real.
He moves now, one step after another and he reaches them, thinking only of Lucy, of giving her what she wants. Flynn doesn't stop, not for a moment, he doesn't seem to mind Wyatt joined them. His arm moves rhythmically underneath the material and he is working the top of the dress open to reveal Lucy's small, round breasts.
Wyatt is kissing her in no time, sweet, shivering Lucy; so delicate, but so strong, needing to be hold. She is moaning into his mouth and as they are tasting each other, suddenly Wyatt feels a hand on his: not Lucy's, the fingers are longer, rougher. Flynn pushes Wyatt's hand against Lucy's breast and the young man can feel the salvia around her nipples; the older man paid attention to the small pink buds, it seems, and is now ready to give the task over to Wyatt. He is happy to take it, bending down over Lucy's chest he retraces the track of Garcia's tongue over and over again, on one breast, then on the other.
Lucy is pulling his head against the small mound and hums softly. Wyatt's pants are becoming more and more uncomfortable. He vaguely registers that Flynn is on his knees, he feels as the dress's material brushes his arm, but he wouldn't give up his task of licking and sucking, not just yet. He tries to imagine he is doing what Flynn's doing, he pretends he is the one who is giving the lion's share of the pleasure and that keeps him from hating Flynn for a time, because he is bound to concentrate.
Lucy is melting under their ministrations, she is quivering, would probably fall if they didn't keep her up against the tree. She is vocal, but not nearly as loud as she was when she told Flynn off. As she is nearing the peak, to Wyatt's surprise she starts repeating a name and it isn't Flynn's. Wyatt smiles against her skin before he resumes the motions of his tongue.
She comes not long after that and forces Flynn's head away from her as the waves of pleasure subsides. He pulls his fingers out of her and stands. Wyatt straightens up too, his head is swimming with sensations, but think it is over now. Not even nearly.
Flynn doesn't try to kiss Lucy, instead he covers Wyatt's mouth with his. Wyatt can feel Lucy on his tongue and he deepens the kiss before he can think more of it. He realises only a moment later that Lucy can see them and he pulls away quickly when he does.
But Lucy's face doesn't reflect disgust, on the contrary, it looks like she likes watching them. As Wyatt is asking silent permission from Lucy, Flynn's hand traces over the bulge in Wyatt's pants and he involuntarily backs a step away.
'It's alright Wyatt, let me take care of you too' Flynn offers.
Wyatt looks at Lucy again, but she nods.
'Let him do it, Wyatt, it's fine.'
She turns to him and calms him with a kiss. Wyatt lets himself be taken by the tide and before he knows, his pants are down and the other man's mouth is around him. He seems to be good at what he is doing, Wyatt assumes he is not the first man Flynn has offered this favour.
Lucy unbuttons his shirt and peppers his chest with kisses, he can feel her tickly locks all around his torso. She reaches a hand down and starts guiding Garcia's head: push and pull, push and pull until it drives Wyatt crazy. He doesn't hate Flynn now either, he can't because the son of a bitch is making him feel good, so good. Wyatt is letting it all go now, he can't do anything else. He doesn't have time to warn Flynn that he is about to come, but Flynn doesn't seem to mind. He swallows and wipes his mouth without a curse.
Now all of them are on their feet again and Lucy wants to touch Flynn, but he drives her away.
'We should go. They are looking for us' he reminds her.
'I'll be fast' she promises, but Flynn shakes his head.
'You were right' he nods towards her 'I shouldn't have killed that man.'
He turns his back to them, picks up his rifle and starts walking.
Lucy watches him as he goes while she rearranges her dress. Wyatt is silent until she takes his hand in hers.
'What has just happened?' he asks then.
Lucy thinks for a while. 'We were his penance, I guess.' She says, unsure. 'We better go after him before he disappears.'
And they go, but Wyatt's mind is loud. 'That bastard has a soul' he murmurs. They stare at Flynn's back two hours more that day and all the while Wyatt wonders if their strange companion is truly lost for good.