tinstar | Malcolm x Raylan: Cowboy Surprise

Malcolm let his weight lean into Raylan after that, resting his head on his shoulder where he could press a kiss to his neck with just a tilt of his head. The hand in Raylan's hair let go its grip to slide down and rest on his chest as Malcolm caught his breath.

Raylan breathed just as heavily as he sagged into the couch, hands slowly letting their grip go, only to slide around Malcolm's waist, head leaning onto his. "I love you too," he breathed unevenly, answering the most delayed of answers, apparently.

"You sure it hasn't been a month?" It really did feel like it had been some kind of forever.

"I was gone for just under four days," Malcolm told him, lifting his head to press kisses to his temple and eyebrow and cheek. "And it was too long."

He took another breath, a deeper more soul relaxing kind of sound as he soaked up the healing powers of those trail of kisses.

"I know you got your reasons for not leavin' New York full and proper but god I can't wait til you're here full time." It was hard having him ripped away after Raylan got used to the idea of him staying. "Til we're in Miami.."

He wanted to start their life together, however patient he had to be. However impatient he was.

"You have no idea how tempting it is to just forget it all," he murmured, nuzzling Raylan's cheek with his nose. "Just leave it all behind and start over here with you." He paused, then laughed self-consciously. "...Okay, actually, you probably do," he admitted.

They were only in this apartment because they couldn't leave for Miami until Raylan's mission in Harlan was done. It wasn't realistic to think he wasn't as tempted as Malcolm to just say 'fuck it' and run away to their dream.

He lifted his head to give Raylan one more full, proper kiss before he carefully extracted himself from his perch, looking down at the mess he was leaving behind.

"We wreck more of your shirts," he teased with a faux-somber shake of his head. "Shall we grab a shower before dinner?"

Raylan's face had only started to curl in amusement, eyebrows lifting before Malcolm granted him the same considerations. "I do," he promised, pressing a kiss to the side of Malcolm's head. "More than I'd like to."

He took the kiss with a smile, only looking down once Malcolm started pulling himself off.

"They're patriotic. Fallen soldiers and all," he said with a grin before nodding. "Yeah. Let's do that. Then I can start supper and we can relax.. some more." Pushing himself to his feet, he carefully peeled the undershirt off and used it to swipe up whatever was left before holding out a hand to Malcolm.

"You can wash my back.. and whatever else you want, really." Who was he joking. Malcolm could do largely whatever the hell he wanted and Raylan would be happy.

"Noooo, then I can start supper," Malcolm reminded him with a grin, taking his hand. "You can start relaxing now." While Malcolm washed his back and his hair and whatever else he could reach.

After the shower, Malcolm pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, not bothering to go for a put-together look. They were at home and in for the evening. And Malcolm was taking over the kitchen.

"You can get those drinks, though," Malcolm told Raylan. "I think I interrupted you before you started pouring," he teased with a smirk as he got out a cutting board to start trimming up the beans.

"Right," Raylan said with a laugh. "I almost forgot."

The shower left him feeling fresher than he had in days, despite having showered in between Malcolm's visits and he dressed in a clean undershirt and the long cotton sleep pants that he'd bought to pad around the New York apartment in.

Malcolm was the only reason he had them, but he enjoyed them more than he thought he would.

"Drinks, drinks I can handle," he said with a smile, padding past Malcolm but not before pressing a kiss into his head.

"I don't remember the last time someone cooked for me. It's been a couple of years," he admitted as he pulled down the scotch and got two tumblers out of the cabinet. "But let me know if you want help; just because we've defined the parameters for relaxation, don't mean we can't bend it."

He came back to Malcolm's side, sliding his glass near the cutting board as Raylan took to leaning on it.

A couple of years? That was a crime.

Not.... that it hadn't been even longer for Malcolm until Raylan came along, unless you counted his mother's staff.

Just Raylan's presence was soothing and the task had a calming quality he hadn't expected. Malcolm finished trimming up the beans and tossed them into a colander to wash, picking up his glass to take a sip before heading to the sink with the vegetables.

He looked at Raylan over his shoulder from there.

"Do you think you'll have a long day tomorrow?" he asked curiously.

It was nice to hear the steady chopping of knife against the cutting board and he watched with quiet appreciation with a sip of his scotch. He could imagine night after night of this and he wanted it.

"Probably not, assuming nothing crops up. I'm due to go back into Harlan today. We're trying to get Ava to agree to being a IC. It's gonna require gettin' her outta prison but it might mean I'm down there most days. I'm eager to get Boyd dealt with and get outta this sinkhole of a state."

Malcolm turned off the water and looked over at him.

"Does... that mean you're going to be staying at Arlo's instead of coming home?" he asked, dumping the beans in a bowl.

"No. Especially not if you're here. Might come in a little later than you're used to though. Considerin' how long it takes to drive." He watched Malcolm with a careful coolness throughout their back and forth. He didn't know how Malcolm would take that kinda change.

He nodded, considering that.

"I don't know if we have a 'used to' yet," he admitted. "I kind of expected your work hours to very unpredictable." Like his own. "But if you're working almost exclusively out of Harlan and it makes more sense to be at Arlo's, I'd stay there with you, if you wanted."

"You would?" The pinch of surprise was telling. Malcolm hadn't given him any reason to not think he'd travel, but with the trouble that had happened last time, Raylan assumed being out there was less than comfortable for him.

"You haven't been back since that time." He knew what time he was talking about. "You sure?"

Malcolm huffed a self-conscious laugh. "Well, I was going to stay at the house. Maybe work on some of your projects. I had no intention of going bar hopping along the holler," he noted with a chuckle. "Whatever works better for you. I... don't really have a job here that I have to worry about the commute."

"You've seen what I can make work for me," he argued reasonably. "But people tend to come to the house. And I don't want you havin' to hide yourself in or havin' to deal with the shitstains that live out there. I can drive, it's fine."

He glanced around the open plan space around them, the expansive windows, the glass door to the terrace.

"It is nicer here," he admitted.

Not just the decor. Like Raylan pointed out, there weren't malevolent locals looking to call Raylan out or hunt him down hanging around the neighbourhood, either.

"If you don't mind driving." He glanced over sidelong as he started chopping the other ingredients. "You'll text me if you're not going to come, right?"

"Then it's settled," he said with a nod. "You'll stay here and I won't have to worry. The only way I'm stayin' out there is if I don't have a choice. If that happens, I'll call. Leave a message if I have to. Something to listen to. Always better than reading."

Raylan set his glass down so he could move around behind Malcolm, sliding his hands around his waist and silently reslishing the feel of t-shirt and the solid mass of man under it.

"The drives kinda relaxing after a day of bullshit too. Gives me a little time to decompress on the road."

Malcolm grinned, letting some of his weight lean back into Raylan as he pushed garlic and oregano into the bowl with his knife before picking up the onion.

"Just remember that if you spend too many nights with Jim Beam instead of me, I might get jealous," he teased. He angled his head up to look at Raylan over his shoulder. "But if you text me when you're leaving Harlan, maybe there'll be something to eat when you get home." Whether Malcolm made it or ordered it.

"I only spend it with Jim when you're not here," he countered, turning his head a little to better see Malcolm's face. "And I never see him before I drive."

Well.. Most of the time.

Raylan leaned in and kissed him briefly. "That sounds fantastic," he enthused softly. "I like the idea of comin' home to see you. You don't gotta stay up for me though, at any point. I don't blame ya for grabbin' what sleep you can."

He watched Malcolm continue with the herbs.

"Still thinkin' about lookin' into the Lexington PD?"

"Sleep is like food: unless there's a compelling reason, I only take it out of biological obligation."

He wasn't going to sleep before Raylan got home unless he'd said he wasn't coming at all.

"Which can wait until you get home to make it compelling."

About the PD, he paused his chopping a moment, then resumed.

"I don't know. I'm not sure they'd even have me."

Raylan could only hum, choosing not to argue the more basic fact of it wearing him down faster. Somehow, he knew better.

"If that's what it takes." It did make him feel good, to be so compelling.

"Course they would. Hell, you get the right scent under your nose and they won't be able to stop you. We weren't. I wasn't and that's sayin' somethin'."

"Tim checked me out," Malcolm said quietly. "He found out everything. They could too." He looked over. "Most people won't be as open-minded as Tim."

"Yeah, but Tim's Tim. And he's got better resources than the locals. Don't worry about that. You'll overpower 'em with your New York style and think circles around 'em before they can blink. Hell, you might get bored." Raylan had met his eyes and stayed steady there as he answered.

"We're not gonna be here long, either way."

He nodded.

"I think I might... focus on Life Things for once," he said. "At least until I get too antsy for a murder to solve. Learn to cook. Learn to play pool. Try and figure out who I am in the parts of me that aren't... trauma."

He slid the onion into the bowl and mixed it with olive oil and lemon juice as the recipe directed, then regretfully had to step out of Raylan's grasp to set it in the fridge.

"They said to make it first so the flavours can soak in while you make the rest of the meal." He turned and pressed a kiss to Raylan's mouth, then took a sip of scotch. "I should preheat the grill, right?"

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