Dan used to to take long winding morose walks under the numbing cover of night, spitting on the sidewalk when the violence of how much he misses Ande threatens to knock him off his sizable feet, but now he finds himself puzzled sometimes at how dangerously close to peace he feels with Pana, with how perfect Pana makes anywhere they lay their heads seem.
But now isn’t the time for philosophizing, and Dan tilts his head, the signal for Pana to hurry up. Pana hops onto the back of Dan’s Harley with alacrity, wraps one arm tight around his man, only takes two shots before he lands one dead center in the mark’s forehead.
Dan laughs when Pana screams into his ear from the bitch seat, shouting out the hard thrum quaking their thighs, the gritty wind against their bodies, the brimstone power pooling in their groins.
Dan’s leather-gloved hand reaches back, gives Pana’s cock a mean squeeze through his pants, and just like that Pana is sapped and needy.
"Not bad", Dan praises when the dividing lines stop pouring back behind their periphery and Dan has managed to bribe them all the way to a serviceable motel down in Cuidad Juarez. "Now get naked so I can fuck you."
Dan looks down at Pana bracing himself on his toes against the rickety bedside table, smiles while he gets his dick out of his pants, lubes it lazily and teases the head up the crack of Pana’s ass.
"Dan." Pana’s thighs wobble against Dan’s thighs as arches back. "Need it, need-"
Dan cups his hand, lands a hard echoing smack on Pana’s thigh, earns a long shaky moan that’s worth more alone than the stacks of hundreds Pana’s so good at counting for them.
It’s not hard to put Pana where he needs him, to grip those hard thighs and line up that tight hole so that Pana’s almost doing a handstand, not hard to slot the head of his dick where it needs to be and start pressing in while Pana whines and vibrates, makes those sweet little shocked hurt sounds that electrify Dan, make him strain and stiffen and drool onto Pana’s back.
Pana’s fingernails scrabble at the table and Dan takes pity, takes all of Pana’s weight so that Pana can take how deep Dan sinks in, how slow he pulls out and how hard and quick and abrupt he punches it back in.
Dan tries to take his time unspooling the coil in his groin, wind it out into a cross-country trip to coming, but after a hit it’s always like this, always more than either of them can take, not when Pana’s head thumps down on the table and that hot satin glove stroking every inch of Dan’s dick squeezes, and Dan loses his rhythm, just braces his feet and snaps his hips, turns his head to bite the inside of Pana’s calf and Pana’s scream and spasm pierce through Dan like the knife that gave him his scar, and Dan falls backward, taking Pana with him.
Stumbles back, riding Pana’s orgasm until the edge of the bed hits the back of his calves and then Dan’s on his back, digging his fingers into Pana’s hips, groaning and coming and growling while Pana’s fingernails scrape down his thighs and Dan takes them both home.