tinstar | Malcolm x Raylan: Cowboy Surprise

He let out an uneven breath as he leaned his head on Malcolm's for a moment before his lips fell to find Malcolm's neck so his head could tuck there a second later, dropping his weight down a little more heavily with each stroke. His plans for taking all of the forty minutes was starting to wane but Raylan was trying to hold off his own pleasure under the assault of sensation.

Forty minutes was an ambitious goal after such a lengthy desert of sensation and Malcolm wasn't sure he could last that long, arching his back into Raylan with each thrust for maximum friction, more hungry with each.

"Raylan..." he gasped near Raylan's ear.

Malcolm not lasting that long was entirely the point. Raylan wanted to leave his knees weak and shaking, leave his body almost aching in its memory of him and properly breathless. But he'd always been a little greedy with his lovers in bed. The plea only made him move faster, pushing deeper, and there was a faint prick of sweat starting to slick Raylan's shoulders.

A strangled sort of a moan against Raylan's shoulder accompanied an out of beat shudder of his body and slick warmth between them; Malcolm couldn't manage to hold on much past his warning and he clutched Raylan more tightly between his knees.

Raylan's hips bucked and held for a full second as Malcolm clenched around him, earning a rough moan that fell into a ragged breath as he started moving again. As he did, he pulled his head back just enough to grant him the room to kiss Malcolm messily.

Malcolm's hand slid from Raylan's shoulder up to his jaw and he returned the kiss eagerly in all its messy hunger, still meeting the movement of Raylan's hips with his own.

He didn't notice his own half breathed grunts as he pounded away, nor how long he'd been moving, but he didn't stop until the crawl of pressure at the base of his spine coiled too tightly to fight against anymore. He didn't bother warning Malcolm beyond the tight hitch of a sound at the back of his throat as he emptied himself, thrusting a few more times as he slowed, slacking heavily into Malcolm's arms a moment later.

"I missed you," he muttered breathlessly against Malcolm's shoulder.

Malcolm wrapped his arms around him, grinning at those words, pressing a kiss into Raylan's hair.

"You were right," he panted. "Two months was too long."

Raylan's body was buzzing, heartbeat drumming loudly in his ears and he knew he would have to take a second before even thinking about moving again. He rumbled a note of agreement and pressed a kiss against Malcolm's shoulder as his hips shifted and separated them into two people again.

Normally, he'd go for clean up but he still hadn't caught his breath and had to settle for flopping over onto his back to spare Malcolm's sheets as much as he could. He rolled his head left to look over at Malcolm and his mused hair.

Art was going to figure it out soon. Tim had pretty much figured it out and Raylan had no idea how much Rachel knew. Even Winona knew that something was up. Raylan couldn't help but want to let them know.

"Lessons learned," he said, smiling softly. "Shower? I don't know how much of that timer we've got left. Probably plenty."

Malcolm assumed everyone in Raylan's life was in the dark. Having been to Kentucky, he'd never push, but he would definitely not be able to stop a rush of happiness if he knew Raylan wanted anyone to know, even if he didn't feel like he could actually tell them.

Malcolm still felt boneless and elated and he flopped his left arm up to check the watch on the inside of his wrist.

"About... twenty minutes." He looked at Raylan. "I have four kinds of shampoo. Your choice," he said with a grin, leaning over to press a kiss to his temple before pushing himself up and scooting off the bed. He glanced over, still smiling broadly, as he walked over to the bathroom. He took off his watch and dropped it on the counter beside the sink before turning to the shower, running the water and adjusting the temperature to make it comfortable.

His face curled and bobbed in a shrug of expression that came down to 'Not bad' and ended in a smile at the kiss in his hair, eyes following Malcolm for a few moments before he pushed himself up to follow.

Raylan had to use two fingers to work his watch off but he did and he dropped it next to Malcolm's.

"I'm almost scared to ask why.. Who needs that much shampoo?" he asked with a little quirk of his grin as he followed Malcolm into his equally fancy shower.

"Someone who likes choice... variety... " Malcolm tugged Raylan under the water and washed his stomach off, then slid his hands down to rinse off Raylan's intimate areas before he reached up to make sure his hair got properly wet through. "And whose hair has moods."

He chuckled and let Malcolm pull him into the water, settling his hands on Malcolm's hips as he watched him wash him off. There was a jump of his stomach, eyes closing with a little rumble from the back of his throat as Malcolm cleaned between his legs. It only took a lean of his hips to bring theirs together, humming again as Malcolm wet his hair.

"Moods, huh? Can't all be as well behaved as yours, with all that product keeping it in place." Raylan smirked. "I'll let you choose, how about that. In all your good taste."

"You'd think, but the product has its hands full and can't even always manage it."

He chose a boutique men's shampoo that smelled faintly of sage and squeezed some into his hand before threading his fingers up into Raylan's hair to work it in.

Raylan stepped back out of the water, bringing Malcolm into it so he could echo the movements Malcolm had just taken, washing his stomach clean before smirking as he watched the water try to get through all of Malcolm's hair. Still, he only needed one hand to change that.

"One day you'll let me see it all clean and wild and unmanaged, right? For longer than it normally takes you to get somethin' in it."

He tried and failed to suppress a smile.

"You said you were going to be here a week?"

Casual. Like he didn't remember vividly. Like he wasn't already counting the seconds.

"You might catch me with natural air-dried hair," he said coyly. "At some point." Like all afternoon after the shower. Like the next morning. "Rinse," he warned, stepping so Raylan was under the water again.

"Few days shy of, yeah," he answered, unable to stop his smile from cracking at the spread of Malcolm's. His smiles were terribly infectious.

Raylan moved back into the water, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back and worked the suds out of his hair, making quick work of it. With a few extra strokes of his hands, Raylan stepped back.

"Conditioner? Which of these do you use anyway?" He wanted to know what he was smelling on Malcolm, since he had the chance.

"Sometimes I pick one... sometimes I mix them," he said in a tone that suggested it was a trade secret. "I particularly like mixing these two," he said, setting two bottles to the side. "One smells like bergamot and one is predominantly lavender. It's supposed to be calming." He considered that. "I think it works to some degree." He picked up a different bottle and squeezed some conditioner into his hand. "This smells like neroli." A beat, then he started sliding it through Raylan's hair. "Okay, basically all the scents I have in here are supposed to calm anxiety. I don't have a lot of non-anxiety-mitigating aromas in this shower."

Raylan watched, eyebrows lifted in his amusement, letting Malcolm go on without interruption or influence. It was cute when he went on about something that wasn't gruesome or ugly.

"Is there one that makes someone more anxious?" he asked, tone lifting at the end like it might be possible. "Like.. patchouli?"

He laughed lightly. "Well. It's not a favourite of mine," he admitted. "It's not that some fragrances cause anxiety, per se. But some energize you, while some calm you. Citrus is really energizing... peppermint...." he noted as he continued to massage the conditioner into Raylan's scalp. "Iiiiii generally need to come down," he confessed. A beat. "You probably noticed." He rinsed his hands off, but made sure Raylan stayed out of the spray. "Let it soak in." He gestured towards Raylan's head. "Neroli is supposed to be good for insomnia. Not that it's helped with mine, but mine has extenuating circumstances."

His either - Raylan avoided smelling like hippies and weed/head shop when he could. Talkers weren't normally something that Raylan really tolerated - the trunk was a better place for dumbasses that couldn't stop their mouths from rambling, but he enjoyed watching Malcolm go on about nothing.

"You got a favorite scent?" He leaned against the shower wall to watch Malcolm, arms crossing over each other.

Every place was a good place for a lean.

"I like bergamot a lot," he said, squeezing liquid from one bottle into his hand and then another. "It's what lends most of the aroma to earl grey tea," he explained, working the mixture into his own scalp, still talking. "But, like I said, I prefer to mix it. It pairs well with a lot of fragrances. Oh, I like sandalwood, too. That pairs nicely with lavender."

"Sandalwood and Lavender, I know; the first one I've never heard of," he said, reaching for Malcolm to kiss him, a subtle and soft reward for being himself.

"And I don't think I've ever paid attention to the smell of tea, any kind."

The unexpected kiss delighted Malcolm and he beamed at Raylan, holding up a foamy hand for him to smell if he wanted, getting bergamot and lavender foam on Raylan's shoulder with his other hand. "It's the scent in here that isn't lavender," he said, staying close against him.

He did want to smell, and did so as he kept eye contact with him. "Absolutely nothin' you do is normal, is it." It was the furthest thing from an insult.

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