tinstar | Malcolm x Raylan: Cowboy Surprise

"You know what not normal is. Don't take much to extrapolate out the possibilities for all the various kinds of 'normal'. Isn't that what... Havard? Paid for?"

Once Malcolm finished rinsing his hair, Raylan maneuvered him into trading spots so he could rinse out his own real quick before stepping forward and out of the shower spray.

"You finish up, I'm gonna towel off and get dressed so that one of us looks decent before this food gets here," he declared, reaching to steal another kiss from Malcolm before stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel.

"Intellectually, I guess..."

Raylan's departure from the shower was unexpected, but he was probably right about the time. He took his time with conditioner and body wash and then dried off, wrapping a towel around his waist to head out to the bedroom and grab fresh sweatpants and a clean t-shirt, just in case that was the moment the delivery person was in the doorway.

Once he dried off, Raylan walked naked out into the apartment and got into his clean clothes, having bought his first pair of 'sleep pants', a dark charcoal grey, in years so he had an option that wasn't his jeans. With his strappy undershirt, he collected the food and was laying it out as Malcolm came out of the shower.

"Just in time," he praise. "Hasn't been here but a minute. Don't know about you, but I've worked up an appitite."

"I could eat," Malcolm agreed with a smile, drawing up next to him to press a kiss to his shoulder. "I hope you like it; I was guessing."

Glancing down, he noticed Raylan's pants. He gave the waistband a small snap.

"Do these mean you're going to try yoga in the morning?"

Raylan smiled at the kiss and eyed the food nodding. "A hungry man will eat and-"

The snap of his waist band made him bend away from it a little in a playful way with a smirk as he picked up his fork, happy enough with Malcolm guesses so far to not question this one.

"Don't know.. Maybe." Raylan glanced at him coyly. "If I were to, would you go easy on me?" He'd almost said 'An old Man' but he couldn't bring himself to do that yet. Early Forty somethings was the prime...
... right?

Malcolm would be happy to confirm that Raylan was very, very prime. He opened the container of plain rice and picked up his own fork, gesturing towards Raylan.

"Beginners start at the beginning," he noted. "But I think you'll find your... core strength will lend itself well."

He ate a small bite of rice, then got a glass down and filled it from a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge.

"Want anything to drink? I have a few beers in there, if mineral water doesn't sound good."

A six-pack, actually, of the brand Raylan had at Arlo's. Untouched.

"Since when have you stocked beers?" he asked, face curling in amusement. Probably as long as Raylan had stocked Jello. "Tap water is fine, thank you. The beer can be for later in the day." He didn't always drink, after all.

He took a bite of his food and watched Malcolm move about, speaking again once he'd settled. "Thought it might do to have something other than my jeans to slack around your house in. Walking around in just boxers here seems like a very dangerous decision."

Malcolm huffed a laugh. "Wise decision. I like to think that one day my mother will learn to knock, but her version of knocking is rattling the door and shouting at me to open it if the chain is on." He picked up his glass of mineral water to take a drink, then paused. "Okay, in fairness, I don't normally have a sex life to speak of. I don't think she's been worried about walking in on anything like that so much as walking in on me hanging myself from the rafters." He put his glass down and his finger up. "I'm not suicidal. She just... has concerns based on... I don't know. Whatever books she's been reading about helping family members through mental illness."

That was something Raylan was sure Malcolm wouldn't miss down in Miami. He knew he wouldn't miss it and it only happened rarely to him in Lexington.

Raylan's eyebrows lifted at the hypothetical, happy that Malcolm was quick to add that important addendum because he was going to have worried questions if that was something he had to mind. He nodded as he worked another bite onto his fork.

"Well. Can't say I blame a mother who's worrying..." He eyed Malcolm. "Maybe she'll calm down in a few months." Once she learned about them, once she saw the effect Raylan had on Malcolm. Maybe.

He laughed lightly, then took a drink.

"Twenty years in, I'll wear her down eventually." He looked at Raylan. "I promised you a tour of the townhouse. She'll be there. Is that okay?"

Raylan nodded behind his bite, loading another one on. "Seems like that's a better question for her, seeing how as it's her house but I'll be fine."

He didn't know how he'd be - probably awkward and a little too polite but he'd burn that bridge when he gets to it.

"And on my best behavior." Well, as best as he could manage that, considering what happened last time.

Malcolm hadn't seen anything at all wrong with his behaviour the last time. If you didn't assert your opinion around Jessica Whitly, she'd plough it under and that'd be it.

"Not too 'best', I hope," Malcolm said, with another little bite of rice. "It's good for her to hear opinions that aren't... her own."

His phone buzzed on the countertop. Text message. He picked it up and looked at it.

"Speak of the devil," he said wryly, showing Raylan the screen. "She is inviting us to dinner tonight at the house. Is tonight too soon or would you like to get it over with?" He set the phone down next to his bowl. "Bearing in mind that she won't be as bad at home as she was at the gala. Nobody for her bizarre offspring to embarrass her in front of. No society people to ruffle her feathers."

Raylan lifted and shrugged his eyebrows over his smile with a bob of his head as he took another bite. There was always wiggle room. He leaned over slightly to look at the screen.

"That didn't take long, did it." He wasn't surprised. "No use putting it off. Everyone's more comfortable in their homes, for the most part. It'll be interesting to see you three in the family home." Malcolm knew how telling that was. Raylan was just glad Malcolm never had to meet Arlo.

"I'll wear a nice shirt, but my hat's coming." So were his cowboy boots; they weren't getting him outta his comfort zone this trip.

"All your shirts are nice," Malcolm countered. Okay, maybe they just looked nice on his lanky firm body, but that counted, Malcolm felt. He would never object to the hat.

"I'd ask how you know Ainsley will be there, but of course she will." He looked over. "If you're wondering how being at the house will impact the amount of bickering, I expect that will stay the same," he added with a wry smile.

"Somehow I doubt plaid is gonna get the same raving reviews." Raylan took another bite while Malcolm spoke, lips curling around the edges.

"Your mother didn't invite you, she invited us which means she knows I'm here." Ainsley told her, but Raylan expected that and the tilt of his smile suggested he didn't mind. "So long as no one is throwing vases or anything, your bickering is Sunday dinner." Comparatively speaking.

He was still bringing his gun.

"A vase was broken during my father's arrest, but I feel that - since my mother didn't throw it at him - she showed remarkable restraint."

He looked over at Raylan, watching his face for a moment. He had a question that made him nervous to ask. After a second, he pushed through it.

"It's... " He gestured towards the front door. "Are you... "

Sort of.

He took a breath.

"Are you sure you're okay with this? Because you didn't seem completely okay with this when you... got here." He pressed his lips together, his brow creasing slightly. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. If it's just us in this room... I'm happy with that, too."

"More than most would have," he granted with a 'that's for sure' kind of tone. The weight of gaze drew Raylan's back over, fork hanging in his fingertips as his gut told him that something was coming.

By the time Malcolm was halfway through his first question, Raylan was looking down at the counter and setting his fork there to adjust it's position in useless idleness before going back to propping his elbow on the table.

"What I'm not okay with is accidently outing things to people when I'm not ready." Which he took the blame for. He should have cleared the room. "That doesn't change the fact that it happened. I'd rather get them dealt with then add the guilt of hiding from it to that. I'm more worried about them tellin' other people than knowin' themselves." He finally looked over at Malcolm.

"This? ... It is what it is." Don't ask him to define that. "You've got a family that cares enough to be nosy. It's only right to be honest with them." Even if Raylan wasn't going to be honest with the rest of the world. Not yet. Not for.. He didn't know how long.

"Comfortable and Okay are two different things. And plenty in life is uncomfortable." He was pragmatic about it, if nothing else.

Malcolm swallowed heavily and nodded, picking up his fork only to fidget it between his fingers.

"My mother called Gil," he confessed quietly. "But Gil doesn't gossip," he added quickly, looking at Raylan suddenly.

He couldn't stop his hand from coming to pinch at the top of his brow for a second, fingers spreading back out in gesture as he spoke. "And you're sure she would have mentioned this?"

Gil was, at least, the kind of man that seemed like he'd have the good taste to not ask, poke or pry - Raylan could just ignore it there.

Raylan sighed and nodded. That was what it was too, he supposed.

"She called to check up on you. I'm sure she wouldn't have explicitly said why, but he's not dumb. Why else would she ask him that?"

He picked at his rice and looked up.

"I'm sorry. That we couldn't... choose the pace."

"Still leaves a little room for ambiguity," he granted. He could work with that. No one was certain til they were certain. Raylan slid off his barstool and padded over to get into the fridge and pull out one of the beers to pop it open and take a pull from it.

"My fault," he assured as he came back around to slide into his seat, not touching the rest of his meal. "Shoulda been more careful.. But it was gonna happen sooner or later, with your family." He wasn't running from that, not now that he didn't have a choice.

"I'm sorry I'm not..." Whatever he should have been to be okay with this. "That this isn't easier."

Malcolm got up and stepped behind him, wrapping his arms around Raylan's waist, setting his cheek between Raylan's shoulderblades.

"I don't want you to have to be careful in my house," he murmured. "But I don't need 'easy'. I just... don't want to get into a position where you feel like... it's not worth it. Where you regret it and you want out because everyone keeps peeking in."

Raylan turned his head as he was suddenly encircled and smiled softly as he slid one hand over said arms. The smile faded to a ghost of what it was at the words coming up from behind him and Raylan lowered his chin a little. It was a reasonable fear and a point he'd chewed over at the beginning of all this, the night after he'd kissed Malcolm for the first time.

"It scares the shit outta me," he confessed. "This. You. Being here. There's this.. little voice in the back of my head telling me I'm some.. faggot. That people knowin' is only going to earn me a beating somewhere down the line. I know it's because of where I come from.. But that doesn't shut it up."

"I know," he admitted. "I've... known that. That's why I didn't want to... to pressure you in any way. But I'm worried that that's not enough, because not all the pressures come from inside and... " He turned his head to press his forehead to Raylan's back, squeezing his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. "That's why I handled it so badly... earlier. I'm really... I'm crazy about you and I'm afraid this is too fragile to survive." A beat and then his voice was quieter as he admitted "I thought you were going to leave."

He was hoping that was why Malcolm was treating him like a china doll, metaphorically speaking, and he was grateful for it. He wasn't sure this would have happened any other way. But that didn't matter - Raylan didn't like living in what if's. There was too many paths to fall down and waste your energies on.

But his heart jumped into his throat a little as Malcolm continued, echoing something else rattling around in the back of his mind and the last statement had him gently pulling Malcolm's arms loose enough for him to turn around with a, "Hey." Raylan collected Malcolm's face, one leg hooking around his to keep him from trying to wander or back away.

"Scared shitless doesn't mean I'm runnin' away." And he wasn't going to let Malcolm do it either, if he could help it - though Malcolm's running and his were subtly different. "If I was gonna run, I wouldn't have flown up here to see you."

Well.. that's not entirely true - if it had been anyone other than Ainsley..

Raylan forewent another point for now, in favor of pulling Malcolm in for a chaste but firm kiss.

"Crazy about me, hmm? Who'd wanna leave that?" Instead of space to answer, he'd kiss him again, sliding one arm around his waist and giving Malcolm little choice in where it was put. Down or around Raylan, but not much else.

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