Malcolm x Raylan: Cowboy Surprise

Art was suspicious right off the bat when Raylan took a week off with the express note that his phone would be Out Of Order til the next Monday, but the Chief Marshal wasn't going to look gift horses in the mouth. Not when it suggested he'd have a few days of peace, until Raylan caved to turning his phone back on again. Still, he watched the younger Marshal walk out of the office and promised himself to check into the state of Harlan within 3 days to make sure that the place wasn't on fire. The smoke would reach him before he called, he was sure.
But Art didn't have much to worry about - Raylan had no plans on staying in the state for his vacation, beyond one day spent closing up Arlo's and securing it the best way he could before getting on a plane to New York City. He wanted to surprise Malcolm - it'd been near two months since they'd last seen each other and frankly, Raylan was tired of missing him. They'd called and texted, stayed in a fairly consistent, if odd houred, touch but it wasn't the same.
Once he landed, Raylan rented a car and navigated his way towards Malcolm's apartment, stopping to grab a bouquet of flowers. It was.. Extra, but Raylan didn't want to show up empty handed, just in case. Thirty minutes later, Malcolm's door buzzer was being hit, like Raylan was here to deliver something. Well, he was, but that was half the fun.

no subject
no subject
"Your mother isn't the first or the worst to ask questions and just because a question is asked, doesn't mean I have to tell the truth. Polite people don't get past 'it didn't work out'." And when they pushed past that, he pushed back.
"That could have gone worse."
no subject
He slid his hands into his pockets, since he knew holding Raylan's was out of the question, the tupperware lodged in the crook of his elbow.
"Mind if we walk for a bit?" he asked as they started down the sidewalk. He needed some air. The hallucination had left him with a general ill-at-ease feeling he was trying to shake.
no subject
"What triggered what happened at the table? Your hallucination."
no subject
"Brain chemistry is complicated," he said, the technical answer being his go-to for dissociating. "I take an antipsychotic to mitigate the... psychosis. It's a symptom of PTSD. But a little change of levels... a little cortisol, a little adrenaline... I find these dinners with my mother stressful," he admitted quietly. "And I think that's what did it." He dared to look over at Raylan. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about... them. They could honestly happen at any time; I should have said something." His eyes widened slightly as he realized how that sounded. "They're mostly under control, I promise." He frowned faintly. "This is too crazy, right? It's too much?"
no subject
"My being there made it worse," he surmised.
As Malcolm continued, Raylan couldn't help but reproitize his working relationship with the man. Reality was what it was, no matter how he felt, and it was something a smart man would take into account, considering what it was they did for a living.
"Too much for what?" He knew, but he wanted to let Malcolm argue the stance if he really wanted to. Get it out of his system or something. "Too crazy to work with, too crazy to date, too crazy to be in love with?"
There was almost an underlying tonal challenge, however soft it was. Go on, Malcolm. Try to convince Raylan Givens to feel some kind of way he doesn't.
no subject
"Your being there didn't make it worse," he said evenly, watching his face, choosing to address his previous statement instead of that one. "It made it better. Like there was a safe place to regroup."
no subject
"Your mother wasn't hugged much as a child, was she?"
no subject
To be in love with.
It rang in his mind like a church bell and he felt both incredibly grounded and like he was about to faint.
"I..." He swallowed. Usually it took a lot more touching to get his brain to short out like that. "Should I get a taxi? I'll get a taxi."
Stepping towards the curb would help with that, but he was rooted to the spot, his eyes on Raylan's face.
no subject
Raylan's face curled in soft amusement. "We already done walking?"
no subject
"I don't want to be out here anymore. I want to get home."
Where he could properly appreciate what Raylan just said.
"Had enough of the rest of the world," he admitted with a wry smile.
no subject
He opened the door and gestured for Malcolm to slid in before doing the same.
no subject
"My mother thinks the basement causes the hallucinations because I hallucinate about things from the basement," he explained.
no subject
"Is she right?" He would be the best to answer.
no subject
"It's stress. The basement is where the trauma happened, but stress messes up my brain, not going there."
no subject
"I can't help reduce stress, but I can help mitigate its effects. Even if that's giving you a wall of shoulder to hide behind... It's obvious that she loves you. Ainsley too. It would make sense, to everyone, that going down there might.. refresh your memories. Traumatize you all over again. Can't say I agree with how they deal with the aftermath, but they're doing their best."
no subject
"I know. That's why I still go." He looked at Raylan. "That was a lot, though. About... my problems. We'll do something less heavy tomorrow. I want you to enjoy this trip."
no subject
"I'm here." He glanced at the taxi driver with a deep inhale before choosing his words. "I am enjoying it so far. You could pass as Southern with your hospitality."
He didn't realize just how grateful he would be when the taxi pulled up outside of Malcolm's and he pulled a few bills out of his wallet to hand to the driver before sliding out, holding the door open long enough for Malcolm to join him on the sidewalk before closing it.
"Let's finish this talk upstairs." Where they could be themselves, unapologetically.
no subject
THESE TWO. FUCK. /ded
When it broke, he spoke first, faces kept close in their intimacy. "I want to be that safe space for you, Malcolm. I like that I am. You need one." And he was happy to provide. He was.. good at this kind of security. The kind that had nothing to do with bullets or mafia or petty crime. The kind that he could control.
I KNOW I CAN'T THEM
"I love you," he whispered shakily.
no subject
Raylan smiled, a faint curl to all his features that left him with only soft edges. "It's okay. I love you too." The smile pulled. "But I think you already knew that."
And if he didn't, he did now. Raylan kissed him again, breathing him in as his hands spread across and up Malcolm's back. If he could help beat back Malcolm's darkness by just being there, by just wanting to be with Malcolm and love him and find some kind of workable normal for them.. Well shit. Miami was definitely going to happen.
no subject
Malcolm didn't know what to do with that kind of unconditional love except cling to it and offer himself as unconditionally, to give Raylan the same safe place.
As the kiss broke, he tilted his forehead against Raylan's and took deep breath. It both felt incredibly fast - it had been months, but also so little of it had been spent together - and at the same time it felt like he'd been holding his breath for too long already.
"I'd hoped that," he murmured, his hand sliding up Raylan's neck to thread his fingers through his hair. "Seemed too good to be true," he admitted with a huff of a laugh.
no subject
"Couldn't tell ya when it happened," he replied quietly, tilting his head a little into Malcolm's fingers. "And I didn't mean to say it so soon." But clearly, these were extenuating circumstances. "But we've all got problems. Like you said, I'm not here for easy."
no subject
He'd have probably started off by choosing a woman, for one thing. Malcolm's gender was still going to be an issue to him being in Raylan's life, but it was one he was prepared to adapt to or deal with as required.
"Do you want a drink?" he asked, though not making a move to untangle himself just yet, his fingers still idly stroking Raylan's hair. "You've been a saint in putting up with my family."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
SOFT FACES
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
I say we start the next morning (once it's morning proper) in a new thread under the header