tinstar | Malcolm x Raylan: Cowboy Surprise

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.

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He held up a hand, keeping the other around Raylan. "I'll bring books; I'll stay at the hotel. I'm not coming to sightsee. If there's anything else you think I should do to not make problems for you, just say the word."

Raylan eyed him carefully. "No worry or frettin' over getting asked to stay at home? Where you're safe?"

Because Malcolm had been anxious about that before and Raylan couldn't bring him along on the majority of his work - mainly because it happened late at night on backwoods roads that needed a sharper sense of self preservation than Malcolm had. It wasn't a slight against the man but Raylan was a realist.

"I learned my lesson," Malcolm said soberly. "Square peg, round hole. Got it. I just want to see you. I won't interfere in your work. I won't go to Harlan. I won't talk to anyone."

Raylan considered it, eyes locked on Malcolm's face. This was a choice too, a risk, a massive one. Once Malcolm started coming down - People noticed people that were there more often than not and when someone's never been there, they stick out all the more.

He didn't want to trap Malcolm in his bullshit either. It sounded like Malcolm was going into WITSEC to be with him and that laid on it's own layer of guilt.

Swallowing thickly, Raylan nodded, knowing that if it didn't go well, he could kiss a great many things goodbye, including his reputation and any softpower he had. Not his job, maybe, but there was also Winona to contend with and he wasn't looking forward to that conversation at all.

Malcolm was watching his face carefully and he saw things play out there, not all of which he had the context to guess at.

"You don't like something about this. You're deeply unsettled by it. What is it? Why are you agreeing?" He paused. "I wore out my welcome in Kentucky," he hazarded. "Just my presence there is a problem, but you don't want to tell me not to come."

"I'm agreein' because I want to see you," he impressed with a faint lift of his eyebrows. "And your presence is-- Not a problem." Go ahead Raylan, lie some more.

"I just don't want you stuck in some crappy motel away from all this... Everything that you're used to, like you're hiding out from the whole state." He took a deep breath, looking down for a long moment before looking back up.

"Why don't I find a place to rent in Lexington, on the other side of town. We can stay there, give you some privacy and Lexington's finest attempt at New York hipster coffee?"

He did want to see Malcolm, but Malcolm never doubted that.

His presence was definitely a problem, though. Was he not hiding out from the whole state?

Still, whatever the reasons for it - and he was sure they posed some sort of danger for Raylan to be so adamant (and to lie about them) - the compromise was reasonable. He nodded.

"That sounds nice," he said. "Will you let me pay half? You wouldn't be getting it if I wasn't going to be there."

He nodded, relieved that Malcolm wasn't pushing to pry further, relieved to have a compromise. "Sure, if you want. Looking at maybe five or six hundred each, depending. Not much more than I'm paying for the motel. You can even decorate, if that's your thing."

It wasn't his. His hands tightened around Malcolm again, fractionally.

"I know this isn't ideal. I-.. I wish I knew how to make it ideal. But I promise to do the best I can."

"Good. I wouldn't want you to spend more than you do now. Miami is still the endgame, but... our own place... that would be a lot more comfortable. I could leave some stuff there. Clothes and things. Travel lighter," he noted. He looked at Raylan's face again. "What does 'ideal' look like?"

God, he hoped so. If this fell through, Raylan would feel like the fool he was. If Ava had been a Chance and Winona had been a Chance, this definitely chalked up to one but goddamn if he didn't want it. Like a drowning man gasping for air.

"I don't know. Us going to dinner without driving 30 miles outside of town, me being able to hold your hand or walk with my arm over your shoulder. Without consequences." Part of him worried that Winona would disapprove so deeply that she might not let him have Willa. More than, if he were honest.

"You could buy a french press," he redirected. "Set us up with a nice porch or something, something we can drink it on in the mornings."

Consequences.

"So 'ideal' is... Miami," he pointed out reasonably, assuming that part of the plan was that, if they moved there together, they wouldn't have to pretend Malcolm was Raylan's roommate or something.

Well. They'd get there.

"Do you want me to come down and help find the place?" he asked. "If we find a place, I can set everything up while you're at work. Keep myself out of trouble."

"Miami," Raylan confirmed with a little nod of his head. There was no avoiding Winona so looking beyond that, he only had to concern himself with the setting they were in. Raylan still wouldn't be shouting things from a mountaintop, but they could be a more honest version of themselves.

"If you want to come down and help, I wouldn't say no. God knows I'm bad at it. Someone with some taste needs to be there. Your family won't mind you leaving town?"

"You mean when we move to Miami?" He shrugged. "I've only been back here for... not even a year. I lived somewhere else before that for ten years. It'll be okay," he promised. "....Are you going to live there when I'm not in town?" he asked. Or would he keep up the pretense of being a nomad at the hotel?

"No, I-- I mean Lexington; they're not going to mind you not being there on the days when you're not working?" They liked coming to check up on him, that much was obvious.

"I'll live there when you're not in town. We don't get paid nothing in the Marshal's service you know and I'm not sitting on ten dollars." Just so he was aware. "I'll tell 'em they were right or something. That I needed to rent a place that had more than two hinge doors. It ain't like I'm buying, right?"

He could spin it.

"Oh." He waved it off. "They know I'm seeing you. I don't even have to make something up." He paused. "So... you'll have a place in Lexington and I can come there any time. Like you can come here." He smiled up at him. "I like the sound of that."

If Malcolm wasn't concerned, he wasn't concerned and hummed a note before leaning forwards and kissing him.

"I'll start looking in my free time once I get back." One hand found the glass of scotch. "Got any demands on your living space? Double sinks or a walk in closet?"

He laughed lightly and leaned in for another kiss. "I want a nice, big bed," he said. "And an open concept kitchen/livingroom if they have it. I just like... fewer walls. More windows."

As if he couldn't tell that from the room they were standing in.

"I'll try not to break any of them with axes if you're at work late," he teased.

Raylan met the kiss with another hum, happily focusing on what Malcolm wanted to exist in comfort. He'd bend over backwards to make sure he found something suiting.

"I'm sure between the two of us, we can manage any damage you might do to the walls. I'll keep that in mind. Really into the studio vibe, aren't we?" he teased. "Just like to see everything that's going on?"

Edited 2020-05-24 14:19 (UTC)

He laughed almost self-consciously in concession. Yes, he definitely was.

"I have a lot of nightmares about being trapped in a cell. I don't really like being...enclosed. If I have a choice. Even less so after..." He made a vague gesture. "The murder basement kidnapping....thing."

"Makes sense," he replied. "I'm sure Lexinton's got somethin' that'll fit and you can have final call on any place I find." It would matter more to Malcolm than it ever could to Raylan, the man happily living out of a box motel.

He looked over Malcolm's face in the brief moment of silence, smile curling up at the edges all over again. "We've still got plenty of the night left. What should we do with it?"

"I don't mind the bedroom being separate," he clarified. "I think it would be better, in this case. In case people you know come over. It's normal not to poke into a bedroom when the door's closed, but if it's sitting right there..."

He glanced over Raylan's shoulder at his own bed.

"It invites awkward questions about why you have headboard restraints built into your bed."

He met Raylan's eyes in that quiet moment, his own smile curling. "What would you like to tick off your list? Making out like teenagers?" he teased, his fingers finding their way down his chest to start working his buttons open. Too many layers; time to get a start on some.

"I'd rather avoid those kinds of invitations," Raylan said with a little lift of his eyebrows. "Can't help but appreciate a door between the bed and the front door, considering."

Considering them, considering Malcolm's restraints, considering how much Raylan felt the need to protect them both from what he assumed was coming. It was a small comfort, but one he'd take.

The fingers popping his buttons made him breathe in more deeply, expression taking to a serious thoughtful one if it weren't for the spread of his smile messing it up, as he started pushing Malcolm backwards, guiding them towards the couch slowly without letting Malcolm get away. "You ever make out in stairwells or under bleachers? On your parents couch or anything?"

As he spoke, his hands started gently pulling Malcolm's shirt free from his too nice pants, just as happy to start shedding some of what kept their skin apart.

He laughed softly.

"I was a weird loner in highschool. So no. Um. I did make out with someone in a closet at a party in college once. Does that count? I don't think I was even supposed to be invited to that party; I think they slid the invitation under the wrong door," he explained, continuing his path of unbuttoning until he got to the bottom of the shirt and pulled it out of Raylan's waistband. "And I don't know why I went. Curiosity, I guess."

He was willing to bet Raylan made out with a number of people in a number of places in high school. He seemed like the type of guy who'd be popular like that.

"Then we gotta get you up to speed, huh," he asked with a faux concerned expression as he glanced down to tug Malcolm's tie loose so his fingers could get behind it to start working open Malcolm's buttons. "I'd suggest finding a close, but I feel like that's a bit on the nose," he contended with little wink.

"Maybe we'll just start on the couch and pretend it's your mother's."

God, that wink and his fingers at Malcolm's throat.

"I'm a pretty fast study," he managed to say, pushing Raylan's shirt off his shoulders to leave him in the much more appealing undershirt that emphasized all the right things without leaving much to the imagination.

"My mother does go out a lot."

Once he had a hand on Raylan's shoulder and one at his ribs, he leaned in and kissed him a little more deeply, trusting Raylan to steer them to the couch without backing him into any sharp corners, even in distraction.

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