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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"What?" Malcolm was so confused by what seemed to be a non sequitur, that it took him a second to connect the conversational dots. "You d... Oh. No. I just wanted to make sure I have enough time to drink all of this," he clarified, holding up the cup. A full solo cup was a lot of beer for him to get through. "We are going to need the full three hours," he assured Raylan. "And then we'll see if you want the rest," he teased, waggling the cup at him.

The statement had been fully for Malcolm's benefit. He was still learning about him and this was no restaurant or walk around a park - Raylan wanted to leave that door open just in case, but he didn't really want to leave the game early. Defeated the point of going to see a game.

The clarification made him grin again, erasing the creep of seriousness that had started to edge in.

"I will be happy to take that burden for you," he chuckled. "Baseball beer doesn't mess around, does it?" He loved it. It was excessive and sometimes wasteful and led to assholes turning into drunk assholes but.. It was the culture of it and he couldn't help but be sucked in as a drinker himself.

Malcolm smiled. "'Go big or go home' is the saying, right?"

Their seats were in section 19, almost directly behind homeplate, in the fifth row. Malcolm surveyed the field as they reached the row, then looked at Raylan. "This is a good view, right?"

Raylan nodded to one side in concession as he grinned and eyed the part of the field they came up on. Malcolm's question got a huff of a laugh and a look over with hitched eyebrows.

"I don't think Gil coulda gotten better seats." As they scooted in and sat down, Raylan removed his hat and rested it on his knee as he looked out over the field with a happy little sigh, looking as comfortable as ever.

"I didn't expect it to be this full on a Tuesday," he admitted with a look over.

"Apparently, this 'baseball' thing is popular in America," Malcolm joked as he took a tentative sip of his beer and glanced around. He pointed at home plate. "We'll be able to see them batting. This is going to really help my analysis," he teased.

Scoffing a laugh, Raylan eyed home base before looking sidelong over at Malcolm. "Not everyone here has nine to five day jobs?" He asked with mock surprise before grinning again.

"All the shoulders you could possibly want." He resisted the urge to joke that Malcolm might find some more interesting or attractive shoulders - there was no point in voicing that back of the mind concern. "I expect a detailed report."

"A buffet of shoulders," Malcolm mused. "You might have to take off your jacket so I can properly compare them to the gold standard," he noted, settling back in his seat.

"S'that what I am?" He followed the question with an amused pull of his beer. "And I'm not even in the professional leagues." Their shoulders were much better, by comparison and he knew it.

The game started with a singing of the national anthem - a hard press for a guy who's gotta stand up, not wear his hat, hold a beer and put his hand over his heart. Raylan opted to hold his beer and hat. As they sat back down the players split and broke over the field to their positions.

"Do you know what the positions are? Beyond batter and pitcher." Those were common enough, everyone knew them. Raylan was happy to chat about baseball, it's rules and its ins and outs while the first few innings got on but the deeper into the game he got, the less he talked and the more he focused on the game and it's odds.

They were decidedly not better; not one of their shoulders was involved in holding Malcolm while he fell asleep, or threw axes with him or walked around his apartment in a thin sleeveless undershirt that really emphasized them. It was Malcolm's thesis on shoulders, dammit.

He smirked a little. "A few of them. Um, I know that the right outfield," he explained extending his hand to point at it, "is where they put losers they don't really want to play... and the person behind the plate who makes fun of people who get hit by the ball is inexplicably called the 'catcher'," he teased.

Raylan's smile had started to widen but as Malcolm got further and darker, the smile wavered.

"Man, they really messed you up, didn't they? Though I can't argue about your description of the catcher, some can be a real pain in the ass." He smiled, shifted in his chair and proceeded to explain all the short stops and basemen.

"Cather's don't talk shit in professional leagues though. At least not in public. Hell, we'd turn into Hockey type fans in a heartbeat.

Raylan's passion and observations easily brought a smile back to Malcolm's face.

"Baseball is definitely much better with you," he noted happily.

Grinning, Raylan knocked their knees together and focused on the game. It took a few innings but even Raylan's stubbornness couldn't stop him from eventually caving to a few sharply enthused leans forward as a ball was cracked out into left field.

Yeah, definitely good seats.

They didn't go into an extra inning, and the home team won by 8 which Raylan assured was a good game and score difference, and while his beer had been finished by the 5th inning, he didn't opt for a second one.

Leaning back into his seat with a happy sigh as the teams did their walk past each other with high fives, Raylan looked over. "So, what did you think?" He pushed to his feet, resitting his hat on his head as he leaned against the seats in front of them, just waiting for Malcolm to be ready.

"Worth the admission price that you totally didn't pay?"

By the time Raylan got absorbed in the game, Malcolm was able to follow it with some interest. He answered Raylan's question with a smile. "I enjoyed it a lot. We should go again some time."

When it finished, he had half a beer left. He looked down into it as he got up. "Do you want the rest of this?"

The beer got a glance and a shrug that came with a half nod as he collected it. "You've got me in for at least 3 hours of whatever you would like to do tomorrow," he promised, draining the rest of Malcolm's cup in one fell swoop like his throat could extend long enough to get it all in one gulp.

He had the grace to look a little ashamed afterwards, but not so much as one might notice.

"What now? You ready to go home or do you wanna take a walk around the park by your apartment or something?"

Malcolm smiled almost self-consciously.

"I'd like to go home," he admitted. They'd been out all day. While he'd had more fun than he'd had...since he could remember, he was at the point where all he really wanted was for Raylan to touch him. He wasn't doing that in a park.

"Do you want anything to eat?" Malcolm asked as they headed out of the stadium. "We could order something in."

As he moved, his jacket made a noise and he pulled out the crackerjacks he hadn't yet tried. "Or we've got these," he joked.

"Then home it is." That's where he'd rather be too, where he could toe of his boots, relax and enjoy Malcolm's company, heat, and closeness.

As they headed out, Raylan nodded at the question before looking down at Malcolm's jacket and the telltale rustle in it. He couldn't help but scoff a laugh.

"Shit. They're always better in the stands, but they'll be an okay snack later. Yeah, let's order some food. That way we won't have to leave again once we get home." There was something almost possessive in the way the last came out but Raylan didn't notice it and if he did, he wasn't sure he'd care. Malcolm made him hungry and eager in more ways then one, for more than one things.

Clearly it's his fault for inviting this in.

Malcolm wasn't pointing fingers; this was all too good to be true and he intended to hold onto it if he possibly could.

If he had any say in it.

He nodded; he heard that note in Raylan's voice. He liked it. He wanted Raylan to feel at home in his apartment. He wanted to be Raylan's home. He wanted to be Raylan's port in a storm as much as Raylan was his. And he couldn't deny that he was. He felt noticeably calmer when the Marshal was near.

He flagged a taxi as they stepped to the curb and, once he'd given the driver his address, he pulled out his phone. "What sort of food do you feel like?" he asked, scrolling down the screen.

As much as Raylan wanted Malcolm to be a permanent port, the fact that he had to go back out into the storm with no real sense of when the next reprieve was coming had him being a little cautious about sinking into it with a full tilt. It would make going without Malcolm harder and Raylan wasn't into setting himself up for heartache, if he could help it.

Humming thoughtfully as the taxi pulled away, Raylan leaned over to peer onto Malcolm's screen. "Got any shitty, fully American Chinese food? I could do with something that has noodles. A lo mein or something."

Still, he wasn't above sinking into Malcolm's everything when the chance was there. Right now, it all felt like a sweet day dream but how solid and far they'd actually get remained to be seen. He'd been burned too many times to be overly naive about it, as much as he would have liked to. Things were sometimes easier that way.

"Lo meeeiiinnnnn," Malcolm hummed as he punched an order in through an app on his phone. "I could probably stomach some steamed rice," he admitted, ordering that too. Scrolling through the menu, he shrugged and ordered some beef and broccoli and some lemon chicken too. They were leftovers he could easily give away if Raylan didn't want them.

"It'll get to the apartment shortly after we do," he said, tucking his phone away again. He looked at Raylan. "Did you have a good time today?" he asked, hoping everything was at least what he expected.

Raylan sat back, pleased, and slid a hand over to rest on Malcolm's thigh, thumb brushing back and forth a few times as he watched the lights zip by the window. The question brought his attention back and with a broad smile.

"Best day off I've had in a long time, if I'm honest. Couldn't tell you how long it's been since I've taken a day off that wasn't mired in hillbilly bullshit." He got to do things he normally didn't, batting included - unless it was late and he was aiming to get drunk and unfrustrated, and doing them with Malcolm had only made it all better. He liked Malcolm's enthusiasm, even about a sport he wasn't particularly into himself.

"Though I'm not gonna lie and say I'm not lookin' forward to lazin' around your apartment most of tomorrow. Since we're indulging." And that's really what all this felt like. An indulgence. Something that he wasn't going to get often or so freely as he'd gotten it this time.

They were lucky his phone was off and even then, there was a chance he'd turn it on to 20 missed calls or more.

"I'm looking forward to it too," he said happily. Happy Raylan wanted to just spend time with him, happy that his big baseball day of fun had gone well. Happy in general, for once. "Gonna give yoga another try?" he asked with a grin and a cocked eyebrow.

"What, with the way it ended last time?" he asked with an innocent look over. "Of course. At least for a few minutes. Might have to stretch first though."

Was he joking? He wouldn't tell or crack until the AM if he could help it, just for a little fun.

"Don't wanna throw my back out."

"I would be happy to... keep an eye on your back," Malcolm offered, with an innocent look of his own.

As the taxi pulled up in front of his building, he handed some money to the driver and got out, leading the way in, unlocking one door and then the other, hanging up his coat, putting the crackerjacks on the counter.

"Mmhmm," was the amused reply that came in turn.

Sliding out of the taxi after Malcolm, Raylan followed him upstairs and hung his hat on the rack before shrugging off his jacket. But as soon as all that was done, Raylan was striding forwards to slide his arms around Malcolm and draw him in. Didn't matter which way the man was facing, Raylan just wanted to get his hands on and around him again.

They'd had a lot of fun, but he missed this, even with all their soft contact over the day.

"Thank you for takin' me out," he said quietly, happily.

Malcolm grinned up at him.

"Out to the ballgame?" he joked lightly, sliding his arms up around Raylan's neck. He pressed a kiss to his mouth. "It was my pleasure," he said happily.

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