It had been two days. Two fucking days! And still, Richard hadn't come down to the coop. Allen had said he might need a day or two to get back on his feet with how sick he was feeling, but Hank had seen him going to the stables the day before. That he was going to the see horses but sending Allen to the coop suggested he was avoiding him. He'd watched him leave his house in the early morning as usual, still waking himself up with a raging hard on. One would think that getting a taste of Richard's ass would stop these little dreams of his, but if anything, it had made it worse.
Now he actually knew what it felt like to have Richard Perkins on his knees. The feeling of his lips snug around his cock, how his ass squeezed as he sank in to the hilt, how light he felt in his arms when he finally lifted him. He was a lot more flexible than he'd thought, able to part his thighs so wide they were almost fully split, probably from all that riding. The sounds were the worst, imagining those choked up little moans and whines, and hearing his name on his lips. A shiver ran through him every time he thought of the fucked out look on his face, the haze in those dark eyes as he gazed up at him, lips parted, panting for breath.
For the past two days, while trying to catch him at the coop or on his way back from the stables, Hank had rubbed himself raw. He was worse than a teenager, gripping himself in the shower, rutting against his pillows, waking in the middle of the night to palm himself. Why it had to be Richard Perkins, he didn't know, but his body was hungry for the little ferret, and it would be a lie to say his heart wasn't following suit. He wouldn't say he loved the man. He'd barely known him a few months, but he certainly liked him well enough to take things in that direction. Their little date had gone well, if one could call it that. They'd had dinner together, so it sort of counted.
On the third day, Hank finally caught a break. It was Wednesday, and it seemed Allen had some things to do back in the city, so he left early to make it back before the storm rolled in. They were due some serious wind and rain. Not ideal driving conditions. As the sky darkened in the early afternoon, Hank noticed the expensive jeep pulling out of the stables and trundling off back towards the city. That left Richard alone to get the stables ready for the storm, and a fair chance for Hank to confront him.
However, Hank had his fair share of preparations to do, too. Rather than leaving the sheep out in the fields, he had Connor herd them back to be shut in the barn. Although there was a risk of high winds and lightning, they weren't expecting anything worse. The sheep took up most of the free space in the barn, and he moved his pigs and donkeys into the larger stalls, but there was still some space left over for Gavin and his hens. Although he wasn't worried about the coop itself, the wind might tear through the pen's mesh and leave space for unwanted visitors. With Sixty in the barn, he knew his chickens had a much higher chance of survival.
He'd already moved the larger animals and was just getting started on the chickens when Connor started barking. Looking up, with Gavin tucked safely under his arm, he could see Richard hurrying out of the house and down to his coop. It looked like he had a cat carrier in hand, the type he used to take his chickens to the vet. He could only guess Richard was on a similar mission to his own, moving the chickens before the storm. Clever. He'd chosen a time he was busy in order to keep avoiding him. Unfortunately for him, Hank was much faster when it came to moving animals. Having been a farmer all his life, he could easily grab a chicken in each arm and walk them to the barn.
That's exactly what he did, much to Gavin's indignation. Rather than taking him across to visit Nines, he was most upset to be dropped off in a small stall in the barn, crowing mournfully at the injustice as Hank returned to the coop. Taking a hen in each arm, he easily made ten trips in the time it took Richard to make three. Richard, being less experienced, had to wrangle his hens one at a time, and stuff two into the small box before carrying them around back to the large storage barn opposite the stables. Nines was still loose in the pen, squawking excitedly as he saw Hank coming, but calming when he noticed Gavin was nowhere to be seen. Richard wasn't there when Hank arrived at the fence, giving him the chance to take up a relaxed lounging position against the rails, resting his foot on the lower rung.
"I was beginning to think you were avoiding me." He smirked and folded his arms on the fence, enjoying the way Richard almost stumbled to a halt at the sight of him. Clearly, he'd been hurrying himself along, hoping to continue dodging him. It was almost cute, the way he stammered for an answer. "How's your stomach? Allen said you weren't feeling well." Richard's dark eyes were predictably evasive as he looked at the ground and passed the carrier from hand to hand. Hank huffed softly, trying not to laugh at the sight.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine, I'm…fit as a fiddle." Hank didn't doubt it for a second, though he could tell he was nervous. What he didn't understand was why. Richard was the one who'd made the first move that night, and he'd been more than willing to strip off and bend over for him. Was he having second thoughts? They were both grown men. Surely, they could talk about this like adults. "Just a little sick, you know?" Hank said nothing in response as Richard finally plucked up the courage to walk over to the pen. Finally! Wasting no time, Hank hopped the fence and landed behind him. Richard stiffened at the dull thud of boots on the ground, pausing with his hand on the latch as Hank planted a weathered hand on the door above his head to hold it shut.
"Are you sure you weren't avoiding me?" Hank asked in a low grumble, using that low rumble he knew made Richard tremble. He didn't disappoint. A light tremor ran through him as he rested his fingers on the latch, gently teasing the metal as he bit his lip and looked anywhere but over his shoulder. Not getting an answer either way, Hank laid his free hand on Richard's shoulder and turned him. Richard allowed it, keeping his head down as he leaned back on the fence and bit his lip. As the silence continued, Hank slipped a finger beneath his chin to lift his head, enjoying the pink on his neck and the guilt in his dark eyes. "Having second thoughts?" Richard blinked at the question as if he didn't understand.
"A-about…that night?"
"About anything." It wasn't like they'd made any promises or agreements. They hadn't even talked about the possibility. Richard stammered into silence again, though his dark eyes didn't seem regretful, more confused and uncertain. That he hadn't pushed him off or tried to slip away was promising. As Hank moved closer, still holding his chin, Richard almost seemed to relax into the mesh like he was waiting for him. "I can't read your mind, Richie. You're going to have to tell me." Hank almost purred the words, smirking at how that little nickname made him squirm. It seemed he definitely remembered what had happened that night.
"I don't regret it." That was good to hear. It certainly made the next step easier. There was a dull clatter as the empty carrier slipped from Richard's hand. His fingers moved to grip the mesh of the door as Hank's knee slipped between his thighs and the hand above his head moved to stroke and tease his waist. There was no resistance as he leaned in, still holding Richard's chin as he rubbed his whiskers along his lips, making him shiver in anticipation. Barely letting their lips brush, Hank drew back, breaths still mingling as he waited.
"Is that so?" Richard licked his lips, swallowing the lump in his throat as he nodded. He was close to begging already. The only thing stopping him from latching onto Hank was the mesh he was gripping. It almost seemed like Hank knew as he moved to tease his lobe, scratching his whiskers over the sensitive skin. "And what if I want to do it again?" The knee that rocked against his cock left no room for misunderstandings, and the smirk on Hank's lips was almost predatory as he clocked his arousal. A small whine rumbled in Richard's throat, and it didn't get any better as the hand on his waist moved to rub and tease his cock.
"I-I-" A distant rumble of thunder interrupted, reminding them both that there was work to be done. Hank's animals were safely locked in the barn, but Richard was barely halfway through his chickens. The rolling clouds were dark above their heads, bringing with them a slightly cooler breeze. A warning of what was to come. "T-the chickens. I-I should-" Richard found himself silenced as Hank pinned him to the mesh and gripped the back of his neck as he kissed him. His hands finally left the mesh to fist in Hank's clothes, one finding his shirt while the other grabbed the thick denim strap of his overalls.
"It'll be faster with two." Drawing back, Hank reached around him to unlatch the door and backed him inside, dragging the carrier with his foot. Richard swallowed, meekly nodding as he set about wrangling another two chickens. By the time he had them secure, Hank was already waiting with Nines in one arm and another black hen in the other. Looking out over the fields, they could already see flashes in the distance. It wouldn't be much longer before the rain started, and maybe an hour before the thunder and lightning reached them.
There was one more chicken and the flock of chicks remaining when they got back. Hank lifted the chicken and waited patiently for Richard to gather the chirping chicks. Like all animals, they could feel the storm coming, and it unsettled them. Luckily, they were a cooperative bunch and huddled in the carrier as they were gathered, probably too scared to move with all the wind and distant rumbling. After that, Richard moved the eggs and placed them carefully in the thick layer of hay scattered on the stall floor. It didn't take long for the hens to bustle in to warm them, huddling together and lowering their heads against the noise outside.
In the stables, the horses were also restless, whinnying and kicking their doors as they sensed Richard's approach. Done with the chickens, and with the barn now locked, Richard took one last look around the stables. He'd fed and watered the horses already, leaving a generous pile of hay for during the night, and dressing each in a padded coat. Once the outer door was shut, the lightning wouldn't bother them too much and the weather would be slightly muffled, aside from the rattling doors. Hank watched as he moved along the stalls, stroking noses and murmuring assurances. A couple of the more skittish horses were fitted with cotton hoods to cover their eyes, keeping them calm throughout the storm.
"See you in the morning." With that final grumble, Richard closed the wooden door and bolted it, securing the lock with a heavy padlock to make sure the wind didn't somehow blow it open. He seemed reluctant to leave, giving the padlock a final tug to be sure. Hank wasn't sure if he was worried about the horses or reluctant to turn around and face him. Maybe a combination of both. Being sensitive, Hank moved in to rest his hands on his hips, soothing the jutting bones with gentle fingers.
"Don't worry, they'll be fine." Richard was sure Hank was right, but he couldn't help being nervous. Their legs were delicate, so if one of them grew agitated and kicked their stall hard enough, it might cause an injury. An injury like that could prove fatal, or at the very least end their career, costing him a small fortune. It wasn't like he'd have the heart to just put them down or sell them off to an abattoir, either. He'd never been good at the crueller side of the business. It was one of the things he wanted to change, maybe by opening a school or at least finding good owners for retired and lamed horses. Having only just opened, his current residents were all in perfect health, and he aimed to keep it that way. "Come on…The rain will start soon."
The words had no sooner left Hank's lips than there was a cold splash on Richard's shoulder, quickly followed by another. Hank cursed softly as he grabbed his slim wrist and pulled him across the yard. Richard stumbled to keep up, something light bubbling up through his stomach until it burst from his lips as a loud laugh. He could hear Hank chortling, too. Perhaps it was the timing of his words with the storm's arrival, or maybe the thrill of running across the yard in the increasingly heavy downpour. Whatever the case, they were still laughing as they rounded the corner and ran up to Richard's back door, where there was a small overhang.
Richard doubled over and wiped his dripping forehead, looking up as Hank gave a loud guffaw. He was standing with his hands on his large hips, looking out at his own property, where Connor and Sumo were jumping and tumbling across the yard. It seemed like they were very much enjoying the rain, probably cooling off from the earlier heat. As Sumo hunkered down and raised his tail, Connor shot off in a large circle around the yard, a blur of black and white until he heard Hank's voice. Realising their master had returned, both dogs woofed and jumped at the fence, panting and wagging their wet tails.
"I should get these two in for the night." What he wanted to do was take Richard with him. Strip him out of that wet shirt, towel off his dripping hair, warm him in his bed. However, with his fear of dogs, that was out of the question. Maybe on another day he'd try introducing him. Sumo would be the better choice for a first meeting, being the older, lazier dog. He was less likely to jump up and scare him. There was something a little stiff in Richard's smile as he straightened up and nodded. With the storm rolling in, Hank would probably be busy keeping his dogs under control, though so far, the pair seemed unbothered by the rolling thunder, still happily wagging their tails.
"Sure. I guess I'll see you tomorrow." That seemed to be it as Hank nodded and finally caught his breath, hair dripping on his shoulders. He was just about to head across to get the dogs in when Richard's hand on his sleeve caught him. "I-uhm…If you need anything…" The sentence was left hanging, but Hank got the message. If he needed anything in the night, he was welcome to come back. Did anything extend to feeling his ass around his cock? There was something coy and uncertain in his dark eyes as Hank took his chin again.
"I might just take you up on that…" With a last searching look, Hank left him with a bristled kiss on his lips and hurried across the yard. Richard watched, flustered as he hopped the fence and whistled. The shrill sound sent Connor zipping in zigzags across the wet yard, making a beeline for the house. Richard stayed at the door, watching the rain even after Hank had gone inside. There was an eerie stillness in the rain, the pattering sound blocking anything else. It was humid, making his shirt cling even more. With the heavy black clouds came a darkness unbefitting the time of day. There should still be a few hours of daylight left, but the light in Hank's living room shone clearly in the dimness. A loud crack made him flinch, hurrying him inside to change out of his wet clothes.