It seemed Richard understood the dress code a little better this time as he stepped out wearing jeans and a powder blue shirt with a soft grey cardigan over the top. After teasingly congratulating him for showing a little restraint, Hank led the way over to his truck. It was a weekday, so he didn't plan on drinking much, and he imagined Richard would feel the same. With the storm over and the land drying out, Allen would be back to pick up on test races and talk business over the next day or two, as usual. He might even end up staying overnight for a few days. One of the mares was about ready to have her foal, and though there had been no complications so far, it wasn't really Richard's area of expertise. Under Allen's guidance, he'd examined her enough to know her teats were waxing, which meant she'd give birth within the next two or three days. It was both exciting and terrifying. His chief concern was something happening without Allen being there, but he felt a little better living next door to Hank. He might not be experienced with horses in particular, but he'd at least birthed calves and other large animals.

"You must be pretty excited...Have you ever seen a foal being born?" Hank asked when Richard told him. Richard shook his head. Most mares seemed to give birth overnight at the stables, so he'd only ever seen the foals after the stable-hands had found and cleaned them up. This would be his first time properly rearing foals. As a jockey, breaking the horses had never been part of his job. He'd helped training as the horses got older, but he'd never reared a foal. "It's amazing to see any animal giving birth. I'm sure you'll do fine, and if you need help, I'm only a phone call away. Luther's usually good about coming out in an emergency, too." Hank had woken him in the night more than once with calves that weren't breathing right or trapped umbilical cords.

"Hopefully, Allen will be here when it happens. He said he'd stay over for the next day or two to make sure everything goes well." Hank's brow furrowed at that. If Allen was staying over, that meant he'd be sleeping at Richard's house. Richard had spare rooms, of course, but what if he didn't stay there? What if he was planning to sleep in Richard's room? Was that the plan? Hank was torn between whether the man came off as a brother or a flirt. They were certainly close, but did that mean they had their intimate moments as well? Would it matter if they did? It wasn't like he'd made any official claims or declarations. Despite that, the thought of Richard sleeping with anyone else brought heat to his chest.

"That'll be nice for you." Richard raised an eyebrow at that, a little confused as he looked at Hank from the corner of his eye. Despite the front he was putting on, he could tell he was bothered.

"I guess." Allen's staying was nothing special to him. It wasn't like they'd never shared a room before. It often used to happen when they went to the races because they kept the same hours. Allen was his horse's groom, so it made sense they bunked together because they were coming and going at the same times. Sharing a twin room also cut down on costs. Money wasn't really an issue, but why spend more on a second room for a few days? It wasn't like either of them were bringing company back. It was a work outing. Their only concerns were the horse and the race.

"Does he stay often?" Hank couldn't help asking, though he was a little wary of the answer.

"No. He has a lot of work at his parents' stables, so he usually drives back to his city apartment." The distance from the city to his parents' place was closer than staying on Richard's farm, so it made sense for him to go back there. It may have been his imagination, but Richard could have sworn Hank's arms relaxed slightly at the news. "It's not that he couldn't stay if he wanted to. I have plenty of room. It's just easier for him to be in the city." Plenty of room suggested a different room from his. The farmhouses were spacious, built for large and often multigenerational families. Hank's father had grown up with three brothers, two sisters, their parents, and their paternal grandparents in the house. As an only child, it had been much quieter for Hank growing up since his aunts and uncles had all moved out.

"Would you want him to?" That was probably prying too much. Richard scoffed a little at that.

"And get nagged more than I already do? Absolutely not! He's a real mother hen, always nagging me about my diet and saying I spend too much time cooped up in the house! It's like having a second parent! Just because I like being alone sometimes doesn't mean I'm a hermit!" That was a little more defensive than necessary, but the fact he called him a parent was somewhat promising. Since he was talking about him in such terms, it seemed he saw him as more like family than a love interest. Then again, some folks have a strange dynamic...

Hank took the lead as they entered the pub, politely holding the door for Richard on the way and scouting out a quiet corner table. It was approaching dinnertime, so a few of the regulars were already at the bar warming their stools with a pint of beer. Rose hollered a greeting from behind the bar, midway through pouring a pint, and let them take a seat. There was a small chalkboard hanging over the bar to tell customers about the food available. That night was a choice of chicken pie or steak with mashed potato and seasonal vegetables. Steak sounded a little heavy to Richard, so he went for the pie. Hank had no such concerns about heavy food, so he was happy to have the steak, being in the mood for a hearty meal.

It was a pretty hot day, so while Hank had a pint of cold lager, Richard had an elderflower cider. This locally brewed cider was only available during the summer months while the trees were in bloom. Rose also had a stock of homemade elderflower cordial she served for a non-alcoholic option, which Richard kept in mind for any future drinks that evening. With Allen coming the next day and the stables to manage, he didn't fancy nursing another hangover. With such a low constitution, one drink was his limit on a weekday. Hank also seemed to be pacing himself as he sat nursing his beer.

"Got any plans for the stables? New stock? Any buyers lined up?" Hank wasn't really sure what went on in the stables besides the fact that Richard kept and trained the horses for racing. He could tell they were all fine specimens, but that was the extent of his knowledge. Richard shrugged idly as they waited, nodding politely to the locals who entered and waved.

"Not really. Allen is handling most of the buying, so I'm not sure. As for selling, it isn't quite time yet. Our oldest filly is still four months from being old enough to race. There's a limit put on it to make sure they aren't pushed too hard too fast. They need to build up their muscle mass and get used to being ridden before they're ready for the track. We take our time with them, gradually getting them used to being tacked up, building their strength to carry a rider, and shaping them for whatever suits them best. I primarily deal with racehorses, but you never know whether they'll be runners or jumpers until you see them mature. Our horses come from both lines, so it's a mixed bag. There are also a few privately owned horses that are just there to be stabled." Hank nodded his agreement, having noticed that not all the horses ended up on the track. Some of them were simply standing in the fields all day, though he knew Richard tacked them up and rode them around the estate regularly for exercise. The owners couldn't get there every day, so exercising was worked into the price of their upkeep.

"What made you choose rearing racehorses? You could have opened a school and trained the next generation of riders." Richard almost scoffed into his cider at the thought.

"You may have noticed, but I'm not the most sociable of people. I'd be terrible with kids. There's also the location to consider. Few parents would drive all the way out here for lessons, and there aren't many local children left at this point." That much was certainly true. Before the accident, Cole had been one of only seven children in the area, and three of those had been approaching adulthood. It was sad to say it, but this was a dying town; a place for retirement. It was only stubbornness that was stopping big corporations from sweeping in and buying up the land at this point. Small, local farmers who were determined to keep it in the family. With many of the younger generations moving into the cities, it was likely the land would be sold off to the highest bidder at some point.

Rose greeted them briefly as she dropped off their food, and they lapsed into companionable silence as they ate. The food was delicious as always. The steak cut like butter, the pastry on the pie was crisp and golden, and there wasn't a single lump in the fluffy mashed potato. Halfway through his drink, Richard realised the cider was a little stronger than he'd first thought. He wasn't dizzy, but there was an unbalanced sensation in his head when he finished, and the glaze in his eyes didn't go unnoticed by Hank. Nor did it escape his notice that those dark eyes kept sending wandering glances his way. The type of glances that coloured Richard's cheeks and made him squirm in his seat. Hank put on an almost sultry smirk in response, blue eyes lingering on the soft lines on Richard's face and trailing over his supple body. It was just after ten when they left, having finished their food and drinks. Hank wrapped an arm around Richard's smaller shoulders to guide him out, hollering a goodnight to Rose and the others as they left. If his hand strayed to Richard's ass as they got outside, who was to know? The parking lot was deserted, and Richard certainly wasn't complaining.

His head was fuzzy and his body warm as he finally sank into the passenger's seat and buckled his seatbelt. Hank chuckled softly as he stole a glance at him, finding his eyes half-lidded as he nodded in his seat. It was quite endearing that he could barely handle one drink, though he was the first to admit that Rose's cider was stronger than the average beer. Hank was suffering no such ill effects as he buckled his seatbelt and pulled out, looking over his shoulder to reverse into the street. By the time he turned back, Richard was already squirming uncomfortably in his seat to get comfortable.

"You doing alright?" It wasn't a huge issue if he was sick, but he'd rather have time to pull over if he needed to.

"I'm fine." Looking over, Hank saw Richard looking pointedly out of the window with his arms tightly folded. One foot was tapping gently on the floor as he sat slouched in the seat, cheeks slightly flushed as he pressed his lips together. Oh...Hank could see the problem. A boner in tight jeans was hard to hide. The material was straining slightly at the crotch, clearly uncomfortable as he shuffled his legs a little further apart. Licking his lips, Hank continued driving slowly up the street towards the dirt path that would take them home.

"You sure about that?" Richard gave a non-committal hum of agreement in response. "These look a little tight..." Dark eyes widened as Hank touched his knee, resting his hand there and steering one handed. Richard's mouth went dry as he looked down at the hand, which slowly tightened to rub and soothe the thick denim. Licking his lips, Richard glanced at Hank, but his eyes were fixed on the road ahead. The touch on his knee sent heat to the pit of his stomach, less than pure thoughts creeping in as the hand teased its way higher. "Mm...feels uncomfortable." Richard couldn't argue with that. His cock was getting harder by the second, becoming uncomfortably snug in its denim prison.

"H-Hank-"

"Henry," Hank corrected, palm now moving to rest over the bulge. Richard's eyes fluttered, head tipping back as he nudged his hips closer. The rubbing palm made him forget the discomfort, though his cock twitched and hardened further with each pass. Without another word, Hank's fingers crept higher and popped the metal button. The relief was instantaneous, pulling a sigh from Richard's lips as his pants loosened. "Attaboy..." The praise brought even more colour to Richard's cheeks as he closed his eyes. Unsure what to do with his hands, he moved one to grip the door while the other found Hank's sleeve. Hank smirked as he looked across. "Cider makes you frisky, huh?" It wasn't something Richard had considered before, but maybe that was the case.

"H-Henry, the road-" Hank hushed him softly as he worked the zipper down. The hand on his sleeve neither pulled him closer nor pushed him away. Richard was clearly trying to ground himself and keep some semblance of self-control. We'll see about that...

"Don't worry, I've got it." Which was true. Despite the teasing of his hand, his eyes hadn't left the road besides the occasional glance. A glance was probably all he should give, considering the growing tightness of his own jeans. The broken little moan that fled Richard's lips as they hit the dirt road was sinful. Each bounce and rumble pressed his cock against Hank's stroking hand, sending little darts of pleasure through the solid muscle. "Is that better, honey?" Richard bit his lip and nodded as Hank finally pulled his cock out. "You're going to have to speak up for me."

"Y-yeah." Richard stole a quick glance at Hank to find his eyes still on the road, but there was a definite smirk on his lips. That was about all Richard had time for before the hand on his cock squeezed and his head fell back with a low moan. Heat and tingles were spreading through his body, leaving him feeling hazy and needy. The hand on Hank's sleeve tightened, prompting Hank to flex his wrist. The pumping motion drew a hiss as Richard looked down at the large hand gripping his cock. It was a somewhat surreal experience. Before Hank, the majority of his encounters had taken place in a bedroom. He'd never been touched like this in a moving car, especially not while the one of them was driving. "H-Henry!" Doing this while driving really didn't seem like a good idea. Hank remained less than concerned as he chuckled and rubbed his thumb over the dripping tip.

"Is that good, Richie?" It was hard to tell if the quivering was from Richard or the bounce of rubber on dirt as they trundled along the dark road. Since there were no streetlights, Hank had slowed to a snail's pace. That also meant he got to tease Richard for longer. There was no clear plan once they got to the other end. The hand on his arm finally pulled him closer, a silent plea for more. The strangled little whine as he picked up the pace was all he needed in answer to his question. Richard braced himself with the arm on the door and lifted his ass from the seat, bucking into Hank's firm grip. Hank chance a glance to the side and almost wished he hadn't as he noticed his jeans had rucked down to his thighs, leaving that pert little ass on display as he bucked against his fist. "Attaboy, Richie." Richard whined at the praise, turning his head and meeting his eyes with an open-mouthed whine. Fuck it!

The car stopped. Putting on the handbrake, Hank unbuckled his seatbelt and pushed his seat back, leaving more than enough room for Richard. Richard seemed to get at least a part of the message as he unbuckled his belt and knelt on his seat. Hank was greedy as Richard leaned over to rest his hands on his burly shoulders, instantly seeking his lips in the dark. Luckily, their eyes had long adjusted and they could see each other in the spacious cabin. Richard moaned against his lips as prickles teased his skin, and Hank took full advantage of that open mouth. Their tongues stroked and teased lazily, hot breaths and moans slipping between them as Richard moved to tangle a hand in Hank's silver hair.

"Fuck, you've given me a problem of my own to deal with," Hank gasped as he drew back. Richard's lips quivered, teeth biting his bottom lip as Hank took one of his hands and led it down to the thick bulge in his jeans. Richard cursed under his breath as he stroked over the rough material. He'd taken that cock more than once at this point, but feeling the girth of it never ceased to amaze him. Being a much larger man, it was really no surprise Hank was so well endowed. What surprised him was the fact it could fit inside his petite body. It wasn't always easy. He quivered at the thought of that first stretch; when Hank pulled him so wide, he thought he might tear. "Do you like that, honey?" Hank asked as he stroked Richard's freshly shaven cheek. He smirked as he felt him nod against his palm. Of course he liked it. "Show me how much." Hank smirked in the darkness, cock twitching as Richard immediately lowered himself.

He was still kneeling on the passenger's seat, leaning over the centre console with his arms now braced on Hank's thighs. Relief and pleasure rolled in Hank's pelvis as he leaned back in his seat to give Richard a little more room. God, he was a sight. Nimble fingers popped his button as lithe arms braced his smaller body, bare ass up in the air, jeans around pooling his knees. His cardigan still covered him all the way to his pert ass, the material hanging open on either side. Hank couldn't see his cock from their current angle, but he knew it was there, still solid and dripping between them as he knelt over his lap. A sigh of relief fled his lips as Richard pulled his cock out and ran his tongue over the flushed tip.

"Attaboy, Richie. Take it nice and deep." Hank smirked at the strangled little whine of want that wrought and enjoyed the feeling of Richard's lips stretching around the tip. His tongue lingered over the glans for a while, flicking and circling the tip before slowly sliding along the underside. With such an awkward angle, there was no way Richard could take it all, so it was really no surprised that one hand gripped the thick shaft to help. A grunt slipped out as Richard squeezed his cock and sucked, prompting Hank to lace a hand in his hair and tease his scalp. He wouldn't push down just yet. It was only fair he gave him a chance.

His inexperience was pretty obvious as he tried to find his feet. His grip was firm, but there wasn't much of a twist as he pumped, and although the sucking was nice, it was a little too hard. Murmuring words of praise, Hank gently moved to take Richard's hand and guide him. The sucking paused as Hank's hand closed over his own to lead his pumps. Rather than going straight up and down, there was a slight twist to the motion that Richard hadn't noticed before. He tightened his fist and followed Hank's lead, enjoying the way he hummed and sighed at the sensation.

"That's it, Richie. Just like that." Richard continued as Hank released him and tried to take in a little more cock to make up for it. "Don't suck so hard. Take it nice and easy." Humming around the tip, Richard did his best to comply. From what he remembered, it was better to suck while pulling off, so that's what he did. He teased his tongue along the underside as he dropped before gently sucking as he drew back to the tip. Judging by the soft curse Hank let out, he assumed he was doing it right. More words of praise shortly followed, making Richard's neglected cock twitch as he held his ass higher and dropped his head lower.

His jaw was starting to ache, and he'd only just started. Careful as he was, he couldn't help his teeth occasionally teasing the silken skin of Hank's cock, which led to a few inaudible gasps and hisses. It didn't hurt, and Hank understood the girth issue. The thickness had always caused hiccups with intimacy, and Richard's mouth was open as wide as it would go. He also knew he was being careful and stroked his head in reward. Despite the ache, Richard was determined to hold out. Hank had told him to show him how much he liked it, so that's what he'd do. To give himself a brief reprieve, he pulled off and lathered the shaft with his tongue, licking from tip to base. Hank seemed to understand his need for a break and continued teasing his scalp with one hand while the other trailed a path down his back to stroke his bare ass.

"You like that, hm?" Hank smirked at the way Richard's body twitched when his palm stroked and moulded the plush flesh of his ass. "Good boy." Richard whined softly, lips returning to Hank's cock as he shuffled his knees a little further apart. Hank cursed under his breath at the silent invitation, enjoying the way Richard lifted his ass higher for more attention. Squeezing his cheek, Hank stroked up to his lower back before slipping down to trace the seam of his ass. He almost chuckled at the choking sound Richard made as his fingers teased his tight ring. His breath stuttered, hips squirming as Hank kept up those gentle circles, never pushing too hard.

"H-Henry..." The breathy little moan slipped out as Richard pulled off, hand still pumping and gripping as he looked up at him with wet lips and needy eyes. Hank smirked, pressing just a little harder as the ring of muscle began to soften. Richard's eyelids fluttered, mouth hanging open as he panted and whined. Lacing a hand in his hair, Hank slowly led him back to where he belonged. A grunt rumbled in his throat as his lips parted to stretch around his cock once more, head bobbing in time with the grip of his hand.

"You think you might spill soon, honey?" The pet name sent the usual shiver through Richard's body, eliciting a needy whine in answer. It was hard to tell if that was a yes or a no, but Hank treated it as a yes. Without proper lubrication, he wouldn't tease too much, but he did finally push the tip of his finger inside to stretch the ring. Richard let out a needy moan, hips nudging back for more. Hank wasn't about to argue. He could take one finger without lube. He smirked as he pushed in all the way and let Richard buck and squirm against him, enjoying the continuous bob of his head as he sucked.

Richard choked as the tip brushed the back of his throat, but he didn't stop. Not when Hank's hand finally tightened in his hair and led him down. He did his best to breathe through it, huffing hot pants against Hank's pelvis with each bob. Each swallow was messy, wet lips leaving drool on the shaft that coated his hand with each slick pump. Hank certainly wasn't complaining. The extra moisture helped, making the slide of his hand smoother. Richard moaned as Hank fisted his hair and held him in place, working his large hips to fuck his mouth. He couldn't reach his throat at this angle, but Richard was doing a good job of compensating with his twisting grip.

"Fuck, are you ready for it?" Hank barely waited to hear the answering hum before pulling Richard's head high enough that he wouldn't choke before spilling. He moaned low in his throat, watching Richard's hand pump as he sucked and swallowed what he could. What he couldn't finish escaped his lips as he pulled off, leaving little trickles at the corners of his mouth. Hank smirked as he pushed his finger as deep as it would go, gently leading Richard to shuffle across the centre console to rest his knees on the edge of his seat. "Sit up so I can see you." Richard whined tiredly as he pushed himself up and settled a hand on the backrest.

Hank had never thought a cardigan could look hot, but seeing the soft woollen material hanging off Richard's shoulder, buttons open to reveal the damp shirt beneath, quickly changed his mind. His cock was still solid, poking out at the bottom of his shirt and leaving little drips on his thighs as it bobbed and swayed. Teasing the finger in his passage, Hank moved his other hand to grip his twitching cock. Richard's skin was flushed, cheeks damp from his earlier efforts, the evidence of which was still trickling down his chin as he bit his lip. Dark eyes closed, a low moan slipping out as he rolled his hips, grinding himself on Hank's probing finger while fucking his hand.

"Attaboy, Richie." The praise made his cock throb, drawing out another little whine as those dark eyes opened and locked with Hank's. Cursing under his breath, Hank tightened his grip and pumped, enjoying the little shudders that ran through Richard's body as he writhed on his knees. "That's it, honey...Keep going." He could feel his release coming as he pumped, how his cock throbbed against his palm. The buck of Richard's hips quickened, moans getting louder as he reached back to urge his finger deeper. Hank answered the silent request, pushing in and teasing his passage until his spine finally arched. A needy whine fled his lips as he spilled, eyes closing in bliss as his seed hit the roof. Cursing under his breath, Hank change direction and painted his window and door, as well as his own jeans.

"S-sorry." Richard panted for breath, cheeks flushed as he took in the mess and meekly wiped his chin on his cardigan sleeve. Hank couldn't help himself. A loud guffaw filled the car as he withdrew his hands and searched around for something to clean up. Richard sheepishly righted his jeans, feeling self-conscious as he tucked himself away and fumbled into his seat on shaking legs.

"Don't worry about it, the old girl needs a clean anyway. Check the glove-box, will you? There should be a rag or something in there." Richard did as he was told, barely able to bring himself to look at the dripping stain above their heads. A thin stream was dripping down onto the centre console, leaving a small puddle on the dusty black plastic. Finding the filthy rag Hank was talking about, Richard pulled it out and blindly reached up. "I got it." Hank's hand covered his, pulling the rag free to clean the mess, though he couldn't erase the wet patch on the felt cover. After wiping the roof and console, he turned his attention to the window, which would need a proper spray down later to properly clear the smears.

Having done his best, Hank tossed the rag on the dashboard, started the car, and rumbled on down the road towards their houses. Once he'd pulled into Richard's yard and parked up, they both climbed out. There was something hesitant in Richard's step as they met at the back of the truck. Despite the warmth, Richard wrapped his arms around himself, dark eyes flicking up to Hank before dropping to the dirt at their feet. Hank joined him in that awkwardness, unsure what to say or do. It wasn't like Richard would come to his house, not with Sumo and Connor inside. Licking his lips, Richard finally lifted his head.

"Would you like to come in?" Hank faltered a little at that, eyes straying to his own house across the way.

"Sumo and Connor will be waiting for me." He'd fed them before he left, but they were out in the yard, probably worn out and ready for bed by now. "You're welcome to come to mine." Richard didn't even need to shake his head before Hank chuckled in understanding. He looked scared stiff at the suggestion. "Another time then." Richard nodded and swallowed before turning his feet towards the front door. Excuse me? Hank raised an eyebrow before reaching out to snag the soft wool of Richard's cardigan and pull him back.

Not giving him a moment to catch himself, Hank cupped his soft cheeks and kissed him. Richard swallowed his surprise with a moan, dark eyes fluttering as he gripped the front of Hank's shirt. He barely caught his balance, leaning heavily on Hank's chest and relying on the arm that soon snaked around his waist to hold him up. His knees buckled for a whole new reason as Hank's whiskers teased his lips, soon followed by the flick of his tongue. Richard opened up instantly, sliding a hand up to fist in his hair as he leaned over him. It was almost cruel that he kissed him like that when he'd turned down his invitation to come inside.

"I-I'll leave the door unlocked." With that hurried grumble, Richard hurried up the front steps and into the house. I'll leave the door unlocked? What the fuck sort of invitation is that? Despite the deep sigh and the heat in his cheeks, Richard was true to his word. Latching the door, he hurried off to bed.