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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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.

"Mm," Raylan hummed, face saying everything it needed to. He was perfectly comfortable until a few minutes ago. Jeans was the only concession he was making though - Jessica had seen shoulders before, surely. Gathering his coffee cup, he ambled back towards the kitchen and leaned on the island as he watched mother and son.

When her eyes drifted back over to Raylan, he lifted his eyebrows and gave her a closed lipped smile, patiently waiting for her to get this first burst of entitlement out of her system.

"We shoulda sent you pictures from the stadium yesterday, Jessica," Raylan started. "Malcolm and I went and took in a baseball game. Plenty of fresh air for your fully grown boy, hmm?" There was a veiled chastising in it, but Raylan was beginning to think that might be how things will have to be sometimes.

Malcolm dropped onto one of the stools at the counter. It was closer to Raylan.

"You went to a baseball game?" she said with some astonishment, not taking the hint. "You don..." She glanced at Raylan and his shoulders. "Oh. I see."

She drained her glass and reached between them at the counter to set it down before reaching up and patting Malcolm's face. "We're having dinner tomorrow night to celebrate your sister's promotion. I expect you to be there."

"If I'm free," he said noncommittally.

She shook her head at him. "Nice to see you again, Raylan," she told him as she headed for the door.

"Mm, always a pleasure, Jessica," he replied, eyes steadfastly on Malcolm's face. It was only once the door shut that Raylan slid a slightly irritated gaze towards the door. "I think that was her shortest visit yet."

It was a little contention at the way Jessica brushed over him, but that wasn't important enough to make a fuss about and wasn't all that dissimilar to the way some of the people in Harlan had treated Malcolm. Turn about and fair play and all.

He looked back over. "You want me to find a way to stay for another day, to save you from that? I'm sure Art'll give me an extra day."

Once the door shut, he had to take a moment to gather himself, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes and breathing deeply, one, two, three times. He let his hands drop and looked at Raylan, still a little shaky.

"I always want you to stay longer, but... I can handle it. If you can't. Stay."

He gave in, then, and slid off his stool to press himself to Raylan's side, arms sliding around him, burying his face in Raylan's shoulder. "Do you want to come sit with me again or is everything all... restless now?" he asked, his voice a little muffled because he didn't lift his head.

Shifting, Raylan turned Malcolm into his chest and wrapped his arms around him, pressing his lips into his hair.

"Not quite what I asked, darlin'," he said softly. "But we can go back to sitting. I'll even take my jeans back off and we can pretend like she never stopped by, hmm?" Whatever Malcolm wanted, really, Raylan was down for, especially if it meant he could bring back that fond happy tilt to Malcolm's features.

He lifted his head to nod, pushing one hand through his hair, the other still clutching Raylan's undershirt at his back.

His eyes darted around as he thought and then he looked up at Raylan. "Can you really stay?"

Raylan nodded. "I'll call Art in a few hours, tell him what's up. He'll give me the extra time without much guff. It'll be okay," he assured with a back and forth stroke of his thumb across Malcolm's back.

"Are you going to want to go to this dinner or are we usin' me as an excused to get you out of it?" He'd worry about Ainsley's feelings later; he's sure Malcolm can smooth things over with a well thought out gift to celebrate.

"It doesn't seem fair to make you sit through dinner with my family twice in a week," Malcolm said softly. "I don't know. Can I think about it?" he asked with a sigh. He hated letting Ainsley down but...

He slid one hand down Raylan's chest and stomach to land on his belt buckle, then started tugging it open. He said he was going to take off his jeans. Reset the morning.

It was hard to argue with Malcolm normally, harder still to do so when he was tugging Raylan's pants open and the Marshal glanced down briefly before answering. "Let's not worry about fair. Whatever you decide to do, I'll be there with you," he promised as he watched Malcolm undo the rest of his jeans and push them down his hips. Raylan stepped out of them without moving position with a little clearing of his throat.

He was trying to not let his head go into the gutter but part of him couldn't help it.

"And it's tomorrow so we don't even have to talk about it until then."

Malcolm looked up at him and, after his eyes wandered Raylan's face for a moment, he leaned up and pressed a grateful kiss to his mouth.

"I love you so much," he whispered before settling back onto the flats of his feet. He gestured towards the TV. "I think they're showing another episode of the ocean show," he offered. "Do you want more coffee?" He didn't wait for an answer before immediately adding "I'll make some more coffee," nodding to himself as he slipping around Raylan into the kitchen. He paused with the kettle in his hand, glancing around the apartment, but when his eyes found the parakeet swooping from the bookshelves to the windowsill, he turned back to his work, his shoulder tension easing a little.

Raylan hummed a short note into the kiss, lips curling as it broke. God how stupidly lucky he was to have fallen into this. He loved this feeling, this.. he hesitated to say validation but Malcolm showed his gratitude differently than Raylan was used to. In some cases, showing it was the difference itself and Raylan couldn't argue the effect of it.

Picking up his jeans, Raylan draped them over the barstool he was abandoning before pouring what was left of Jessica's scotch into his mug. "I could take more coffee," he said, glancing up and over at the sudden sound of wings.

"Is she trained at all?" he asked, slowly padding over towards Sunshine with a hesitant respect for even the bird's option of choice and space. She was a pretty thing.

"Trained?" He emptied used grounds out of the french press. "No. I think of her as more of a roommate than a pet. She doesn't make me do anything I don't want to do and I don't make her do anything she doesn't want to do."

He looked up suddenly. "Oh! There are some treat sticks under the counter, in that cupboard," he said, pointing. "If you hold one, she'll land on your hand and nibble right off of it; she loves those."

He rinsed the press out and then started spooning new grounds into it.

"Somethin' you need, I've got no problem saying," he replied as he headed towards the cupboard in question. Raylan liked animals, generally speaking, and some part of him was still a ten year old boy with an insistent urge to touch things. Setting his coffee cup down, he dug out what he assumed were the treat sticks, automatically earning a little hop and a careful look from the parakeet.

"C'mere darlin', it's okay," he said, clucking softly as he held out his hand, half of the treat stick. Sunshine chirped and hopped again for a better view before fluttering over onto Raylan's hand to peck at the stick. He glanced over his shoulder with a victorious grin.

"I might have to find a new nickname for ya," he admitted. "I don't want you thinkin' I'm in lover with your bird." Teasing, of course.

He laughed lightly, pouring hot water into the press.

"I've been happy with your choices so far," he called back. He left the coffee to steep and walked around the counter to watch Sunshine around Raylan's shoulder, leaning his cheek against it.

"It fits you, especially in the mornings," he defended with a smile and a glance over his shoulder as Malcolm leaned his weight against him. Sunshine didn't seem to care much one way or the other, with her treat and distraction, about the two large creatures staring at her, but Raylan clucked anyway, figuring it would get her used to the sound and him doing it.

"When I was a kid, I always wanted a dog, but Arlo wouldn't hear of it. Never actually had a pet, besides one goldfish Helen talked him into. Poor thing died in ten days. Still don't know why."

That one was, at least, no one's fault. Goldfish needed more than tap water and a young boy's enthusiasm.

"We can install screens on your window, you know.. cut a slot for the level to open the window itself.. She'll come with you to Miami, right? We should get her a big aviary to replace the small cage she's got here. Maybe get her a friend."

Malcolm smiled into his shoulder, then lifted his head a little.

"You can pet her head," he said. "Front to back with the first knuckle of your first finger works best. Or down her chest, top to bottom."

Helpful information - Raylan didn't hesitate in reaching out and cautiously stroking her chest with a gaining confidence as Sunshine was happy enough to take some pets while she nibbled.

"Kinda wanted to pet her since I came in," he admitted.

Malcolm grinned.

"You should have said something. Sometimes I can make things happen," Malcolm told him happily, resting his cheek against Raylan's shoulder again. "She likes you," he pointed out. "But animals know good people when they meet them."

"Because I've got the treat," he reasoned with a grin over his shoulder. "But I'll take the lie. Maybe I'll figure out the truth of it after seeing her a little more frequently." He knew he was just a face that came by her cage now and then.

Gently, Raylan transferred the treat to his other hand and set it down on the windowsill, followed by his finger so Sunshine could hop down. Turning around, he smiled at Malcolm and slid a hand up his neck and jaw. "You and I have an ocean documentary thing to watch," he declared, kissing him chastely before stepping around him to drop back onto the couch.

Malcolm was sure that his heart was going to burst one of these days, if Raylan kept him around.

He followed, sitting so he could curl up a little closer this time, pressing a little kiss to Raylan's shoulder before resting his head there this time, his knees pulled up and resting against Raylan's thigh, where he draped his arm.

The narrator was talking about the creatures adapted to live in the deepest depths of the ocean, where there was tremendous pressure and almost no light.

"That's what it feels like inside my head sometimes," Malcolm remarked mildly at the description.

"Full of mystery and fascinating creatures?" he asked with a soft tilt of his head before leaning over to press a kiss to his head. "I hope I get to be one of these weird Angler fishes with a lightbulb, bobbing along in your darkness."

Raylan got a full, if watery, smile at that.

"A weird lightbulb in my darkness? That's definitely you," he conceded with a laugh, burying his face in Raylan's shoulder for a second. When he lifted his head, he stilled, staring into a corner by the bookshelves for a long moment before squeezing his eyes shut and ducking his head.

He smiled back but the look faltered as Malcolm stilled. He still didn't quite know what that particular look on Malcolm's face meant, but as soon as he ducked his head, Raylan was sliding a palm across his face, tugging him back into his shoulder so he could hold his head.

"We'll go snorkeling, in Miami," he whispered into Malcolm's hair. "Get to see all these tropical fish up close and in person."

It didn't really matter what he was talking about, it wasn't whatever had caused Malcolm to look like that. It was a distraction to accompany the proverbial curling around Malcolm.

"I've never been snorkeling," he replied in a slightly shaky whisper. Slowly, reluctantly, he lifted his head and looked over to the same corner, then breathed out relief before burying his face back into Raylan's shoulder. "It sounds nice."

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