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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

With a faint lift of his hips and another breathy back of the throat noise, Raylan met the kiss and started stroking them with a loose, slow hand. He couldn't help but want to enjoy every second of it, feeling a bit like an addict with every hit he got.

Malcolm tipped his hips into each slow, easy stroke as it came, tilting his head to set kisses along Raylan's cheekbone and jaw and neck, then lifting his head to brush his nose against Raylan's before kissing him again. This was leisurely compared to their usual frantic need - likely a product of the large swathes of time they had to go without seeing each other - and Malcolm couldn't help wondering if there'd be more of this sweet comfort when they lived together all the time.

Tilting his head to accommodate and encourage Malcolm's trail of kisses, Raylan's off hand found it's way up to rest on his ribs as he started moving his hips in time, finding a delicious rhythm with Malcolm. When he came back to kiss him, Raylan met it hungrily, however lazy their rhythm was.

When it broke again, he husked out a few words. "Get the lube. I wanna feel you around me."

"Hm?" he said, dazed and breathless, followed quickly by "Oh. Yes." He had to climb off of Raylan and scramble over to the bedside table, finding it in the drawer before crawling back to the Marshal with the tube, setting it in his hand like a trophy. "Got it," he breathed, climbing back onto him and claiming a kiss for his reward.

Raylan slapped Malcolm's ass as he crawled off, grinning boldly as he came back and meeting the kiss as his off hand helped guide Malcolm's weight back over him. A hand moved up to slide across Malcolm's jaw and neck as his other arm laced around Malcolm's waist, pulling him into the kiss tightly and just for the sake of kissing him breathless.

When his lungs started to burn, he broke it and popped the cap on the lube bottle in one motion before sinking back into the bed. Once Malcolm sat up, Raylan squeezed some out into his hand and slicked himself down.

Malcolm was breathing heavily as he sat back, watching Raylan's hand raptly as he slicked himself. Malcolm reached over and swiped some from the end of the bottle, reaching back to leave a little slick on himself before climbing up and carefully lowering himself down onto Raylan, tipping his head back with a sigh.

He groaned tightly as Malcolm pressed down, mouth coming open with the noise as his dry hand gripped at Malcolm's hip. His head rolled back for a few seconds as Malcolm's skin settled against his own, but as soon as he could, he was looking back up with a shuddering exhale and pushing up against him only to sink his hips into the bed and start them moving.

Malcolm met his rhythm and quickly increased it, riding him with a needy abandon.

"I think about this - mmph - at inappropriate times when you're not here," he confessed breathlessly.

Raylan's hand slid up Malcolm's stomach, fingers halfway up his chest as he carelessly gripped Malcolm's hip with his still slightly lubed hand, watching with dark eyes and a mouth that couldn't quite close.

"Tell me about it," he half commanded from below. "I wanna know what goes through your head."

Raylan had felt dirty enough, with the things that wandered around in his head when Malcolm wasn't there; his adrenaline spiked at the idea that Malcolm thought about him too. It was natural, of course, but it felt like it'd been a long time since anyone thought about him like that and got to get exactly whatever their minds created.

"We were... at a crime scene and..." He couldn't help a small gasp at the friction. "And they had this couch that looked... that looked ideal for you to stretch me out over," he admitted. "It was... it was very distracting."

Raylan managed to scoff a smug note in his breathlessness as his hand slid down, fingers collecting Malcolm's balls and holding them to him as he moved, playing with them for a moment before his palm slid up and around Malcolm's cock.

"You do look great over a couch," he managed with a hitch of a sound as his hips kept moving. "Panting into your good leather as I fuck that perfect ass of yours. Making you say my name."

"See, this? Th... oh, god. ...This is why I can't...." He tipped his head back, rolling his hips a little further forward with each motion to press into Raylan's hand. "This is why I can't concentrate at work," he panted.

There was nothing Raylan wouldn't do to keep this image in the front of his mind for the rest of time if he could, to capture the raw abandon and pleasure from above. He kept his hand still, letting Malcolm work himself with a sadistic enjoyment.

"And when you get home?" he asked, just as roughly breathless as before.

"When I get..." He grunted, falling forward a little to grasp Raylan's shoulder and brace himself with an outstretched arm. "I'm.... Raylan..." He took a sharp breath as he lost his train of thought, his climax getting almost unbearably close. He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to hold out a bit longer.

He could only shudder through his torso, muscles tightening as he used Malcolm's shoulder pinning hand for more leverage in his thrust, eyes and features hungry in rapt attention on the man above him. The sounding of his name drew a rough, back of the throat sound from Raylan and the only words he could manage.

"I love hearing you say that," he said, hips snapping harder for his leverage. But the truth of it was, he'd be right behind Malcolm.

He gasped as he came, sudden and hard, doubling over bit more and shuddering against Raylan's movements, his grip on his shoulder tightening for a moment as he tried to draw a stuttering breath through the wave of euphoria that shot through him.

As Malcolm caved to the sensations, Raylan did too, breath catching in his throat as his body demanded him to keep moving, thrusting before stalling for a few long seconds and when his hips pulled back, he found himself thrusting again in slow rhythm with a throaty, satisfied sound as he remembered to breathe. His hands came around, one stopping to wipe off on the sheet, to grip and help hold up Malcolm's ass as he tilted his head onto Malcolm's with a sigh.

"God, you're amazing," Malcolm breathed, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone before carefully sliding off of Raylan and onto his back right up against his side, shoulder to shoulder, trying to catch his breath.

Raylan could only focus on breathing, another sensitive note pulling from his throat as Malcolm slipped him and his weight off and noting the sweat that pricked their skin.

"I promise that's got in great part to do with you," he breathed back, heartbeat drumming in his ears. "You ever hear those stories about people who were so in love with each other that they forgot to do basic things like eating and ended up dying in each others arms? Some fable or something, but.." That's what it felt like, in the best possible way.

Malcolm grinned and, at the risk of spreading the mess a bit, rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow so he could look at Raylan, even as he remained a little breathless.

"Well... I could stay in your arms all day and I do forget to eat now and then, but that plan cuts our time way too short," he teased.

Hazel eyes slid over to meet him, smile easily called back to his face at the possibility and making him go all squinty.

"Moderation is so hard though," he said with a sympathetic half whine of a look before grinning. "And you've got more discipline than me by far," he continued with a deep breath and a slight tuck of his chin as he pushed himself up onto his elbows and glanced down at his still rigid member. "Might want to let me shower alone, or you might get trapped into a victory lap."

Malcolm followed his gaze down and then back up.

"First: you're saying that like there's any chance I'd object to it. Second... you're going to have to distract me with a kiss if you do want to get past me," he said with a grin.

Raylan chuckled. "Oh no," he said sarcastically, even as he leaned over. "A kiss."

In light of what they'd just done, that might as well be holding hands. He kept his crooked toothy smile once it broke. "Think we're gonna need new sheets for tonight, or we're ditching the topsheet." Pushing up, Raylan glanced around and grabbed his undershirt that had been lucky enough to be hanging on by a wrinkle to mop up the worse of the mess off him and get up, holding a hand out to Malcolm.

"Well come on then, hot shot. Let's clean up and get dirty all over again."

That night's night terror was tame by the usual standards, though he woke shouting, he wasn't screaming or fighting. He jolted out of it quickly, gasping.

He stayed curled up tight against Raylan while the Marshal went back to sleep and lingered there, listening to his breath, to the quiet rumble of his snoring, lingering in his warmth for a couple of hours before wandering out of bed and into the kitchen.

He read his affirmation, he took his medicine, but he had a hard time starting into his routine at first. He felt restless. He looked over at Raylan, in repose, backlit by the streetlights outside the window. It was only 5am. He made coffee. He started a slow and easy yoga routine, trying to focus on his breath and bring his mind back into order.

The more numerous his nights where he was waking up to save Malcolm from himself, the easier it was for Raylan to move through that and go back to sleep, happily wrapped around Malcolm and comforted by his steady silence. He could pretend that they'd stayed like this all night. As always, he didn't wake up when Malcolm slipped away and just claimed more of the bed in his absence.

But soon enough, the smell of coffee slowly roused Raylan awake and he came to with a groan as he stretched and settled, eyes cracking again to see the second best sight in the world - Malcolm stretched out in some position that Raylan would never learn the name of. Instead of saying anything, he opted to just watch for as long as he could. He'd have to leave soon, today or the next and while he didn't want to, he of course would, and wanted as much of Malcolm as he could mentally carry with him in case everything went tits up.

It always had the chance of going tits up.

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