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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"It seems like money well spent to me," Malcolm told him, eyes drifting from his face down his body in distraction. "I'm happy to sponsor these efforts."

"Very altruistic of ya," he said huskily as he slicked himself down and pushed forward, dark eyes flicking up to watch Malcolm's face as he so sweetly took Raylan in.

They'd done some dirty stuff but under it all was a resounding respect for Malcolm letting him do anything at all. He didn't take the freedom to take Malcolm for granted; it was always going to be a gift given, and one he was grateful for.

Malcolm grinned. "I don't know," he teased, gasping as Raylan pushed into him, his knees tightening against Raylan's hips a little. "Might be selfish, actually," he breathed, his back arching slightly.

Groaning breathily, Raylan let his top weight fall forward onto his hands and then one forearm so his free hand could slip around Malcolm's face and draw him into a messy kiss. They were being selfish, in the best ways, and he loved the thrill of it. His hips started moving slowly as he broke the kiss, face staying close to Malcolm's as he spoke.

"You deserve some selfish." And he was happy to oblige.

Edited 2020-08-06 20:08 (UTC)

His response was a half gasped noise from the back of his throat, legs shifting to wrap around Raylan's waist, giving him some leverage to meet those thrusts as he leaned up the tiny amount needed to claim another hungry kiss, moaning into it, arms snaking around Raylan's neck, one hand finding its way up into his hair.

Raylan stayed enraptured by Malcolm's features, breathing in his sounds like they were the oxygen he needed until his lips were caught up again. God he loved this. Being the cause of this, being allowed to stay here with him in whatever way they found themself, being allowed to openly love Malcolm the way that he did.

His hips kept moving, settling into him a little harder with each thrust; intense but not frantic. Raylan wanted to keep them in this bubble for as long as the universe was allowed.

Malcolm was more than a little grateful to have found this himself. His mother walked in on them that morning. He had an hallucination. There was no deterring this man, who still loved him, even though his life was weird and difficult. Who still wanted him, even though he was kind of weird and difficult.

He clung to him tightly, tucking his cheek against Raylan's cheek, little sounds gasped softly into his ear.

He had been called worse than stubborn before; Malcolm's mother, or his hallucinations wouldn't be enough to stop Raylan Givens. Malcolm was just finding out the Fun way.

Raylan's body had taken over and he continued to drive them, head leaned against Malcolm's as his breaths got heavier. "I wanna listen to you sound like this forever," he husked against his skin, moving a little faster with his half groaned words.

"Good," Malcolm breathed, "Because I'm not letting go."

His grip with his legs tightened a little to make that teasing friction hit him just right and he gasped a little more forcefully. Right there.

There was something fractionally different about the sound that slipped out of Raylan at that, a needy little keen of relief before Malcolm's tightening grip and gasps had him working hard but carefully to keep hitting that same spot. Malcolm drove him to the left side of insane and he wanted to do the same thing in return. Wanted to be responsible for another mess and many more.

When this all started - even when this week started - there were things Malcolm wasn't sure how they'd go over with Raylan. That mess was one of them. But it didn't seem to bother him, the stark reminder that he was with a man.

Malcolm's head ducked to his shoulder, his grip tightening, as he came with shuddering gasp, losing his half of the rhythm as his body gave in to pleasure, breathing Raylan's skin for a moment before picking it up again.

The shock of Ainsley and fully coming around to terms with Malcolm's mother about their relationship hadn't been easy, but it had been worth it. Nothing about either of them was easy and Raylan almost relished the challenge, like proving himself made him more worthy of it.

If Malcolm's being a man had really been that big of an issue, they wouldn't have gotten this far; a fact that still rocked Raylan now and then when he wasn't expecting it. But he still wouldn't trade it for the world.

Raylan held his own climax off, moving through Malcolm's before his own overtook him, bowing his back as his frame shuddered, hips settling against him as Raylan went half slack, sweat pricking at his skin. He could only hang there, vision swarming and breath heavy, and drop his forehead to Malcolm's shoulder like it was the only thing that would keep him from falling into him.

"I love you," he whispered, eyes staying closed as he tried to internally collect himself.

Malcolm pressed a kiss to his temple and one to his cheekbone and one into his hair.

"I love you, too," he said with a bright smile, letting his head fall back onto the mat. "I love being with you. I love... everything about you," he rambled, letting his feet rest back onto the mat on either side of Raylan. One hand rested lightly on his shoulder while the other stroked lightly up and down between his shoulder blades. "And I can't believe you've agreed to eat at my mother's house for the second time in a week, but I'm pretty sure that makes you some kind of saint."

He couldn't do much more than leave himself half hung there, letting Malcolm's words settle over him as the soft touches helped him relax some of his weight down. He didn't even notice the way his smile curled in response, though he straight out chuckled as the last, lifting his head to look at Malcolm and answering as he gently withdrew himself.

"That's the second time I've been accused of that. Saint Givens kinda rolls off the tongue, huh." Raylan kissed him with a smile and shifted off of him and onto his back, one hand settling on Malcolm's thigh. "I can't let you suffer that shit alone anymore than I have to," he admitted. "And I'm worried she's gonna try to pull some innocently ignorant crap on you like she did last time."

He had to think about that because it was so much the normal of their interactions and then he exclaimed a little "Ahh right. That is her most effective technique. Sometimes they wriggle their way right inside my head, even though I know better." He looked at Raylan. "Not that she's going to talk me into dating someone else. I'm pretty thoroughly spoken for."

But there were bits of his independence that she could quietly sabotage.

Raylan looked over at that, smiling crookedly at Malcolm's assurance. "Doesn't mean she's not going to try. I know she loves ya, I know she's doin' what she thinks is best but.." Clearly, he disagreed with some of her general life choices.

"I think there's some understanding that she's got left to get her head wrapped around. And I don't think it can come from you." If he had to fight Jessica over Malcolm, he would, as gently as he could unless she earned something harsher.

"You think she's gonna rope you into another one as soon as I'm gone?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I don't know if I'll feel like... doing much for a day or two once you're gone. Unless I get some work. I'd be happy to dive into that."

Raylan's brow pinched faintly as he squeezed Malcolm's thigh with a soft reassurance. The only thing he could offer.

"Just make sure it's nothing too gruesome. No reason to get yourself killed or anything." His way of saying 'Be careful'. He didn't think that Malcolm would be, if given the right chance, but he could wish it anyway. Hell, he wished it for himself every day.

"And then soon enough, it'll be a good time to come down to Kentucky."

Malcolm smiled broadly. "I hope it's super gruesome; those are always very distracting. Until I can come down to Kentucky," he added, looking over at Raylan, still smiling.

The next day, after they spent much of it at the Library and Times Square, they headed to Jessica's townhouse for what was - ostensibly - Ainsley's celebration dinner. Malcolm hoped that it really was Ainsley focused. He straightened his tie before opening the door and letting Raylan step in first.

There was no stopping Raylan's laugh at Malcolm's need to be contrary. Moments like this made him sure they could make it.

The next day, he dressed in one of his better shirts, basically dressing for work, for Jessica and adjusted his hat with a sigh at Malcolm's invitation.

"Hello to the house," he called, unable to just walk in. He didn't have any idea what he might expect to find here, any given time he came.

"Sir," Louisa acknowledged as she came into the entrance hall, Malcolm showing up a moment later behind Raylan's shoulder as the door shut behind them. "Mrs Whitly is just in the parlour," she said with a gesture to the sitting room they'd found her in the last time. "Would you like a drink?"

Raylan glanced back at Malcolm before turning his attention onto Louisa and then the archway into the sitting room. He bobbed his head with a 'Thank you' followed by an almost apologetic ask for some scotch.

"I'm sure she'd rather see you first," he said quietly to Malcolm, gesturing for him to go first this time. He was still just a guest and the manners taught to him in his youth were something he wasn't going to buck easy.

Malcolm slipped past him, heading into the parlour.

"Hello, Mother," Malcolm said as he stepped into the room.

"Ah, darling, you made it," she said with a pleased smile, getting up and spotting Raylan behind him. "And you brought your friend. Good," she said with a slightly more forced smile.

Jessica's forced smile told Raylan all he needed to know about how the night was going to go and he gave her his sweetest closed lipped smile. "Jessica," he greeted with a slight tip of his hat. "Decided to stay for an extra night and Malcolm invited me along. I hope it's no intrusion."

God it was almost a dare.

"Is the guest of honor here yet?"

"An intrusion? No, of course not," she replied with every ounce of socialite she could muster as she looked at Malcolm, who looked back at her with wholly too much innocence to be true.

At his question, she looked at Raylan again. "No, of course not. She needs to sweep into the room fashionably late," she lamented.

"I wonder where she gets that from?" Malcolm noted as Louisa came in and set a tumbler of scotch in his hand and Raylan's.

"Have a seat," she told them, seating herself back on the sofa where she'd been, leaving them a couple of chairs not too close together. "Unless you'd rather skulk off to the basement again," she added, giving Malcolm a look.

He just gave her an expansive shrug as he sat, like he didn't know what she was talking about and took a sip of his scotch.

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