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 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.

He was starting to get the idea that Malcolm liked his shoulders or something. The shirt was discarded but Raylan couldn't peel it off with the tie still around his neck, so he didn't bother. He was more interested in getting his hands under the shirt, back on Malcolm's skin.

It didn't hurt that the shirt would cut down on stickage.

He grinned at the agreement and angled them to fall onto the couch rather than sitting, wanting to feel Malcolm sweetly trapped under him. The kiss wasn't broken as Raylan guided Malcolm down and onto his back so he could follow, straddling one leg so his own could fit between them. One hand was tucked under and around Malcolm's shoulder, giving Raylan some leverage if he needed to move and kept their faces from bashing together as his right hand crept up Malcolm's side and chest, fingertips dancing over the bottom hollow of his neck.

There was a lot to appreciate about Raylan's shoulders. A lot.

He had no objections to being pinned under Raylan, his hand finding its way from his shoulder up over and around to between his shoulderblades. The experience felt somehow both urgent and languid at the same time. A desperate need for touch and all the time in the world to explore it.

He expected that Raylan was going to come out of this rumpled and tousled in the end and was going to look even better, if that were possible.

The point of makeouts, in Raylan's mind, beyond the obvious perks, was the best place for gentle exploration of what Malcolm liked that let Raylan indulge. Indulge in the lazy things his brain had dreamed up to keep itself busy and focused when he was alone and allowed to think about it.

Raylan broke the kiss and pulled back enough to see what he was doing, left hand snagging the back of the tie so the right could pull the thin end out and eventually get it pulled off completely. Now he had a freer access to Malcolm's neck.

When Raylan kissed him this time, it was brush of their lips, one that encouraged Malcolm to lift his chin a little to meet it all as his right hand spread back up Malcolm's chest so it could find its way around his neck. It kept him arched and let Raylan drift his bodyhot lips and scruff down Malcolm's jaw, pressing kisses on his way before he found his ear, nipping softly at his lobe.

Pliable in Raylan's grasp, the hand that arched his neck met no resistance as he leaned into the path of his lips, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment when Raylan nipped at his ear, his breath hitching softly between Raylan's teeth at his earlobe and the fingertips along his neck.

His hand slid from Raylan's ribs, up his side, up over his shoulder and along his neck, up into his hair to thread through it and squeeze gently.

He hummed a note of approval at the hitch of Malcolm's breath; he'd said before he loved to hear him, but it also gave him other valuable information. He supposed he could just ask but that was boring. He was sure Malcolm would help guide him or tell him no if he was doing something wrong.

Malcolm's earlobe was let go with a little suck before Raylan was moving down, kissing the strong soft skin to the bottom of it's curve before biting the barely free skin there, a little harder than at his earlobes. It was his full intent to leave a mark on Malcolm, a bruise, a hickey, an anything to feel like he was imprinting some part of his affectionate need on him. And if his hips shifted a little as he bit, well, he couldn't see a downside to friction readjustment

Malcolm hadn't urged this sort of attention before for various reasons: he'd never had it before, he wanted to let Raylan dictate a pace he was comfortable with, and - also a concern about Raylan's potential comfort or lack thereof - he didn't know if encountering stubble on this journey would put him off.

But it was worth the wait, because it was amazing. He was definitely catching on to how much better and more experienced Raylan was in bed than he was and it was almost hilarious that he'd been the teacher early on.

The shift in friction, its timing with the nip, made him gasp, arching into Raylan a little.

The stubble hadn't put him off at all, and Raylan was pretty sure he'd settled on a full throttle pace. Love meant a lot of things, but to Raylan, it meant that his pride took a back seat sometimes. He trusted Malcolm with this, this part of him he didn't know what there and he wasn't going to shrink away from it.

A thumb turned under Malcolm's jaw as Raylan let go to kiss further down towards the center of Malcolm's chest before his weight was lifting slightly so he could facilitate the downward movement that came with traveling lips. His shirt would catch and start to pull up on Malcolm's belt, but he didn't mind. Hot breath trailed over the firm flat of skin, only to land on his nipple that was swirled by Raylan's tongue as his right hand slid down and over the front of Malcolm's shoulder.

The hand at Raylan's back trailed back to his shoulder as he moved along Malcolm's body, the friction between their bodies as he moved and the heat of his mouth combining into a sort of heady electricity. The hand in Raylan's hair stayed there for now; it could still reach. He tightened his grasp on it a little when Raylan's tongue swept around his nipple.

"Oh my god," he exclaimed, partly from the play of sensations and partly because he was already imagining what it would be like to do this to the firm lines of Raylan's long, lean body.

Fuck, hearing that was sexy. Malcolm reacted like a virgin and Raylan chuckled to himself as he moved over to the other one, letting his lips ghost on Malcolm's skin as he went. The other nipple got a little nip of it's own, just gauge the contrast in reaction. He didn't expect another 'oh god'.. right now, anyway.

He lingered, pressing kisses down Malcolm's ribs before breathing a hum as he brushed the tip of his nose up Malcolm's center line so he could eye the guy who'd turned his world on it's side. "Don't ever be 'shamed of those noises," he said, accent a little thicker in the moment.

But the eye contact, broken up by wisps of his wayward bangs, was short. Raylan slowly kissed his way down Malcolm's stomach, off hand sliding up his leg to come up and start tugging his belt open.

He felt pretty vastly inexperienced next to Raylan, but a credit to the man that it didn't make him feel inadequate. Quite the opposite, actually. He felt like the centre of the universe.

Especially when Raylan looked at him from down there like that.

Don't ever be 'shamed of those noises drew an incoherent sound from the back of his throat.

And then Raylan was opening his belt. Oh. Oh.

Well, he'd have never done this on his mother's couch, where staff could walk in... but he didn't want it to stop. There was no staff here.

It wasn't going that far; Raylan had never minded working down south on his lovers but a cock was no stubble and that was an obstacle of its own. No, what he wanted was the suggestion of the idea in the back of Malcolm's head. Once the belt was open, Raylan popped the button and a quarter of the zipper - enough to open and pull down one side of his pants, gaining access to the cut in Malcolm's hip, where he placed a kiss before nipping there.

His lips took a detour across the velvet soft skin of Malcolm's lower stomach before making his way back up his body. Soon enough, Raylan was hovering back over him and kissing him again with the same measured exploration, tongue rolling in to taste coffee and scotch to match the fine fabric against his arm.

That nip at his hip was unexpected and made him gasp louder and by the time Raylan's mouth was on his again, he felt like he was buzzing with heat and electricity, his hands sliding up Raylan's arms to splay on his shoulders before one of them slid back up into his hair, meeting the kiss passionately, humming into Raylan's mouth.

When the kiss broke, he was breathless. His eyes wandered the contours of Raylan's face.

"You're amazing," he murmured.

Raylan felt a little drunk on his kiss and the hands sliding over his shoulders and mussing his hair. He hummed a smile at the compliment as his off hand came up to settle on Malcolm's waist, thumb brushing back and forth.

"I bet you say that to all the cowboys," he teased quietly, eyes narrowing fractionally with playfulness before Raylan was kissing him softly, breaking it a few moments later so he could continue. "No real practice on this particular field, but I think we'll figure it out together."

I bet you say that to all the cowboys made him laugh in the most carefree way, until the subsequent kiss took his breath away with its tenderness.

He swallowed at Raylan's assurance. "You're doing great," he whispered, clearly an understatement based on the naked adoration on his face, before lifting his head to meet Raylan's mouth again, wanting more of that tender passion, more of the trail of heat Raylan's hands left wherever they fell. more of this intimacy that went well beyond the physical.

Ah, he loved that sound too. That light laughter that he's certain Malcolm doesn't let out enough, or didn't really have a reason to, before now. He hummed a passing note of warm agreement as Malcolm kissed him again, and he let his weight come back down for it, hand sliding up and over Malcolm's chest as it traveled towards his shoulder, fingers finding their way back to the edge of his neck.

It might look like nothing, especially with the raw knowhow and practice that Raylan had, but the sliding hand up Malcolm's chest was a new battle as Raylan was paying full and unbroken attention to the fire Malcolm put in his veins.

Yeah, there was no question - he was in love and there was no saving him.

As the kiss broke, Malcolm looked up at him, threading his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face with a fond smile.

"Did you really do this when you were a teenager?"

Hot athletes really had it all.

"This?" Raylan chuckled. "Not quite. This is definitely some 'Your mother doesn't live here' making out. I was more a .. Under the bleachers, behind the school, up in your barn loft kinda teenager. Makin' out in the woods is sexier than you might think, dirt and sticks aside."

He'd suggest that they try it sometime but he couldn't introduce an idea he couldn't follow through with but, he'd like to.

"Nothing to hold up to a collage closet. How'd you get in there anyway?"

He laughed. "Um. She pulled me in there." His fingers trailed down behind Raylan's ear. "I think she was trying to make someone else jealous, actually, but... that was fine. I was okay with that."

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