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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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.

Malcolm went through three more poses in his sun salute before he opened his eyes and followed Sunshine's flight across the apartment to find Raylan, awake. His slightly unsettled expression broke into a big grin.

"Good morning! I didn't wake you up, did I?"

It wasn't hard to miss Malcolm's face, or the way it hadn't much changed through his positions and while Raylan was happy to see that grin, he wondered what was on Malcolm's mind.

"No," he said with a smile, also caused in part by the colorful bird chirping above his head, before clearing his throat as he rolled over and sat up. "I'm a sucker for coffee." Rubbing his eyes briefly, he pushed to his feet and padded over, one hand held out to help Malcolm to his feet so Raylan could pull him in and give him a brief good morning kiss.

"How're you feelin'?"

His expression faltered just slightly for a second, but he didn't pull away from where his hands had landed on Raylan's chest as he met the kiss.

"My dream last night... wasn't violent. But... I don't know. It was probably just my brain playing games. I was talking to my father and in my head he always reminds me how much we're the same. I've been trying to shake it off since I got up."

In no hurry to go anywhere, Raylan kept his arms around Malcolm's waist, slightly worried eyes taking in the wrinkles of worry on his partner's face. He couldn't do much else other than press a kiss to Malcolm's forehead.

"Not in the most important ways." Unless he had a body stashed away somewhere and was just acting really well. Raylan couldn't believe that. "No matter what he says. What was your affirmation this morning?"

Malcolm smiled. Raylan had such a deft way of redirecting him.

"'I choose hope over fear'," Malcolm quoted. He pressed a kiss to Raylan's lips. "Do you want a cup of coffee?" he offered softly, the smile lingering on his face.

He would spend all day laying out how different Malcolm was from his father if he needed to, but he was glad to see the succinct statement work so well. The only thing he could do was reassure Malcolm that he wasn't a monster. An easy task.

Humming a short note into the kiss, he nodded as their faces parted, still reading Malcolm's face with a fraction of concern in his eyes. "I like that one." He stole another kiss before sliding away. "I'll be right back."

After dealing with his bladder and washing his face, Raylan came back out and to Malcolm's side to collect his coffee. "You looked more worried about your nightmares this morning than you usually do," he commented softly, one hand sliding around Malcolm's back to hold their sides together.

Malcolm wrapped his hands around his own cup, leaning into the comforting warmth of Raylan's body.

"Maniacs with knives are easy to dismiss in the light of day. Wondering what I'm capable of if I'm not careful is always whispering in the back of my mind in my father's voice."

"Not when they're comin' right at you," he said with a sip of his coffee. "Working the line you and I do, we both know well enough what people are capable of in the light of day that shouldn't be there." He looked over at him. "And I ain't immune to it either."

Malcolm wasn't alone in that worry. It had to be a thing with angry people or people who'd seen violence, like a social infection that scientists hadn't figured out how to cure yet.

"You're doin' good. Day to day, that's what matters, right?"

Malcolm looked up at him with an expression that suggested he was daring to hope it was so.

"Have I told you how glad I am that you're here?" he said with a huff of a laugh.

Raylan smiled and squeezed him again. "I'm gonna have to leave soon. When'll be decided on when I turn on my phone. I've been trying to avoid it."

Malcolm looked down into his coffee as he nodded acceptance of that. He looked sidelong at Raylan after a moment. "It went by fast," he noted.

"Too fast," he agreed before taking a deep breath. "But," he continued, turning a little towards Malcolm. "We've got most of today, minimum. I still don't want to go anywhere, or waste a minute pretending that I don't want to hold your hand."

Malcolm looked up at him with an only slightly wavering smile, then took one hand from his coffee cup and held it out in offer to Raylan.

"I'm looking forward to a day in with you," Malcolm affirmed.

Smiling crookedly, Raylan slid his hand into Malcolm's and laced their fingers together, pulling their knuckles up to press a kiss to them. "It's too bad you don't have roof access or something. We could sit up there and take in the morning while we have our coffee."

This would be plenty, just having Malcolm next to him.

"This is a good place to start." He looked over his shoulder. "How many channels does that thing get anyway?"

Malcolm glanced over and shrugged, then looked at Raylan.

"All of them?"

He smiled broadly. "I bet there's something on some channel that looks like a view..."

He scoffed himself into a chuckle and headed that way, gently tugging Malcolm along with him until he plopped down into the couch, free arm sliding onto the back of it. "Like, 'Crackling fireplace' or something? 'Mountain view'?"

Malcolm switched his coffee cup to his left hand, but rested it on Raylan's knee so he could scroll through the menu with the remote control with the other.

"Um... aquarium.... it's just an aquarium on the screen..... a show where people buy houses in exotic tropical locations...... Gordon Ramsey hiking into remote places and cooking with local food..... "

Sunshine flew over them and perched on top of the TV.

"... A documentary about ocean life?"

Raylan could track the smile that crawled across his face as Malcolm settled against him and he shifted his arm from the couch to over Malcolm's shoulder as he watched the channels flipped through, snorting a sound at 'aquarium' as their only option. Sunshine got her own smile and Raylan wondered if she'd ever fly to and befriend him. He'd never dealt with birds like that before.

"I like that," he said to the last. "Is it Jacques Cousteau?"

He liked documentaries. Learning things was his gig.

It didn't matter who the narrator was, Raylan was into it in a few minutes, rapt in attention as he sipped at his coffee and wondered aloud whatever question ran into his head. This was vacation.

It was the BBC's acclaimed 'Oceans' series and the current part was talking extensively about coral reefs.

Raylan was smart. His quickness of wit never failed to impress Malcolm. He thought well on his feet. He was bluntly clever. But they'd never had occasion to enjoy a purely intellectual pursuit together and there was something about watching the stoic Marshal soak up knowledge like a plant turning towards the sun.

They were in the middle of a sweeping shot of the Great Barrier Reef when Malcolm heard the key in the door. They'd chained it the night before for just such an intrusion. When the door opened only an inch and then hit the chain, it was quickly followed by his mother's voice calling "Malcolm!" sharply.

This was new for them and Raylan enjoyed it. Everyone he was around was a different level of stupid and Malcolm was anything but. Any question that he had to work over, Malcolm could succinctly shore up small misunderstandings and Raylan found a new thing to relish with him.

The rustle at the door and subsequent call had Raylan tightening his hand gently on Malcolm's shoulder to stop him from automatically getting up.

"Good morning Jessica," Raylan called before pressing a kiss into Malcolm's hair and whispering a soft, "I'll let her in, in a minute," and pushing to his feet to amble towards the door and the sharply made up green inquisitive eye that would be greeting him. He was sure his boxers would get shock but it was her own fault. "I'm surprised you weren't here right on the hour; you okay?"

Edited 2020-07-20 03:28 (UTC)

Malcolm turned around slightly in his seat, but let Raylan handle it. He'd had an initial bristle of anxiety at the sound, but Raylan's hand and the kiss smoothed it out.

"Raylan," Jessica said a little too brightly. "I didn't realize you were.... still here," she informed him. "Would you mind opening the door? I need to speak to my son."

"At least until tonight." He glanced at the chain and then his half dressed self. "We weren't really expecting company, but.."

Raylan pushed the door shut and knocked the chain off. "If you called next time, I could make sure at least I'm dressed," he continued, walking away from the door without opening it, towards the bedroom. Setting his coffee down, Raylan tugged on his jeans with a little sigh. So much for a lazy day.

Malcolm, turned around on the couch with his arms folded on the back of it by then, watched Raylan walk to the bedroom and pull his pants on with an apologetic look of disappointment.

Jessica opened the door and stepped inside before he got far, glancing after him, realizing he was in his underwear.

"Oh, don't feel obliged to get uncomfortable on my account," she told him, stepping towards the kitchen rather than towards Malcolm, to help herself to a morning glass of scotch.

"Malcolm," she called as she poured, "you realize I haven't heard from you since you swanned away from dinner the other night."

"It's been barely more than a day," he said, looking at her oddly. "Am I on a suicide watch I don't know about or something?"

"Don't even joke about that," she said flatly, leveling a look at him. "I see now you were..." her eyes wandered back over to Raylan. "Busy." She looked at Malcolm. "But after your little display at dinner, a little acknowledgement that you'd recovered would have been nice."

"Ah. Well. I haven't recovered, but you'll be the first to know when this pesky little case of PTSD passes, Mother," he retorted.

She leveled her gaze at him again and stepped around the kitchen island to click clack across to the windows. "I hope you've at least been getting some fresh air..."

"No, don..."

She opened the window.

He hopped over the couch to brush past her and close it again.

She raised he eyebrows at him.

"My bird," he said in exasperation. "You can't just open windows, okay? Did you want something else or is the wellness check over?"

She glanced around warily. "It's out, is it?"

"She needs exercise, like everyone else," he replied shortly.

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THAT ICON IS CHEATING

THAT ICON IS TRUTH

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