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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"He deserved it, as much as he gave." There was an edge to Raylan's words there, little tonal peeks at the fury that still churned inside of him. He glanced over at the question with a half warm look that was only dampered by the restriction of the feeling in his chest. Still, he curled a dry, cruel, little crooked pull of a smile.

"Maybe his fourth heart attack. The look on his face woulda been worth it by itsself." The words ran together, half pressed out of bared teeth. "'Course, he woulda thought that this was about him. Somethin' else I'm doin' just to be a pain in the ass. Hell, he'd probably try and curse us with AIDS, tell us we're livin' in our own personal Sodom and Gomorrah."

Raylan dared a glance over. "I'd rather deal with your father."

"Yeeaaaah he at least pretends to be nice." He looked at Raylan. "But he will try to come between us. Sow seeds of uncertainty or mistrust. Drive wedges. And if it works, he'll say something like 'My boy! What happened! He was such a good match for you; such a shame that it didn't work out'." He took a breath and managed a smile. "Good thing it won't work," he insisted.

It was a little disquieting how Malcolm could sound like Martin with only words and a little inflection.

"You're right, it won't," he assured with a serious look. "Martin doesn't know nearly enough about me to get under my skin and the shit he'll find with a good investigator is shit people in my office know, to say nothin' of the papers of investigations into me on my file." He was blissfully unbothered by the very real possibility. What Martin might find in the papers would pale to Raylan's file and Raylan had heard all of the different kinds of shit and angle what he did brought.

"He doesn't know what he's messing with," Raylan promised, capturing up Malcolm's hand to press a kiss to the back of it.

That little kiss to his hand charmed him utterly and he smiled.

"He's no match for team us," he agreed. He leaned up to kiss Raylan's jaw again. "He doesn't know what to do against actual love. He needs something to have an angle for him to work."

Raylan smiled. "Even if he found one, he underestimates how stubborn his son can be when you see something you want. If you work that hard to solve murders, I'd hate to be against you in pursuits of love. I remember what you said you said you did to the guy who came in through your basement."

The application of that kind of devotion got Malcolm far, in scary dangerous ways, but realistically, Malcolm could be an unstoppable force if he wanted to be.

Malcolm never thought of himself in that light, but... Raylan made it sound... true.

"Well." He got up on his knees, sliding his arms around Raylan's shoulders. "I want you." He pressed a kiss to Raylan's lips. "More than anything."

Pulling Malcolm over into his lap and wrapping his off arm around to match, Raylan kissed him back with a gentle fervor, smiling as the kiss broke. "I seem to remember sayin' something similar to you out in Harlan. You've got me. Now and for as long as you want. Forever sounds good to me, but dealer's choice."

Malcolm grinned as he landed in Raylan's lap.

"Since I just agreed to marry you, I'd suggest that 'forever' is a good start," he said brightly. He paused. "...You don't think you're going to... miss women, eventually, do you? I mean. This whole thing sort of snuck up; you hadn't really made a conscious decision to... not be with women anymore."

Raylan could only grin. Forever was the best start and every interaction made him believe more that Malcolm really was in this for the long haul. That this marriage wouldn't end like his last one. In heartache and ruin.

The question was something of a blindside and Raylan blinked behind a slight frown as he tried processed where that came from. He'd absolutely made a conscious choice to pursue this relationship and everything that came with it, dedication included.

"You mean will I miss goin' to bed with them?"

"Among... everything else that you appreciated about them. I know you want this. I know you do," he clarified. "I'm not worried about that. I just... wondered if you thought about... never touching one again."

"Choosing to not go to bed with any woman again in my life is no different than choosing to only sleep with one for the rest of my life. This is the same thing. I miss the car I drove when I was 30 but I don't cheat on my towncar with it."

Had he thought about it? No. But the choice was simple to him. He traded sex with women and a lonely like for great sex with Malcolm and happiness that he hadn't been sure was possible.

"I don't think that marriage can be that different between.. people like this, right?" He'd stalled a little there, unsure where to place them. Where to place himself.

He smiled. "No, I don't think that it is," he agreed. He studied Raylan's face for a moment. "You're happy with... our physical relationship, though, right? It's okay?"

It was blowing Malcolm's mind on a regular basis, but he credited Raylan for that. Was he getting as much out of it? Malcolm hadn't been sure how to know.

Raylan's face didn't change much. He was too used to there being a trap or a hidden fight hidden in these questions to take them on their face. Had he been doing something wrong?

"'Course it is. Sex with you is...." He struggled to even quantify it. "Amazing. Hell, the fact that you even let me is amazing. I don't know how you do it. Women either. It's not somethin' I really think about." A surprise to no one.

"Am I.." Was he disappointing?

No fights or hidden traps or even judgement. Just curiosity and a brain that thinks too much.

'Let' him struck Malcolm as an odd turn of phrase to describe consent. It felt more mutual to him than one person 'letting' another person touch them, but as he rolled it around in his mind, it made sense with what he knew. Even going all the way back when he likely witnessed Arlo helping himself to Raylan's mother whether she felt inclined to 'let' him or not. Abusive assholes ruined their children in a lot of ways. It was some kind of miracle or some kind of testament to who Raylan was in his soul that he emerged more respectful of his partners than most people and not less, like his father was. The children of abusers often became abusers; Raylan had broken the cycle.

"I'm glad," he said with a smile, leaning into him a bit more. "I didn't really know what you were... expecting it to be like, I guess. I just... I knew you enjoyed it in the moment; I wanted to know what you thought of it after the hit of dopamine wore off, as it were..." he explained at a ramble, until he realized Raylan had started asking a question. He looked up, all open curiosity. "Sorry, are you what?"

There was power in sex. It was given, it was taken, it was allowed or stolen. Raylan hadn't ever really thought about it in any different way and since that included its own form of mutual consent, it worked well with the way things worked out here.

"I didn't know what it'd be like," Raylan admitted, ignoring the question for now. "Dirtier, maybe. There's some kinda difference in my head - without.. penetration, it reads as mutual masturbation. So I got eased into it. You made it easy." Malcolm had made it safe, somehow, to even dare to cross that line.

He smiled with the end, deciding it was better to not ask. He might not like the answer he got.

Malcolm reached up, brushing the backs of his fingers along Raylan's cheek.

"You told me what you needed. All I had to do was listen to you," he pointed out. "Which has worked out well for me. I didn't know sex could be this good. I thought... it's nice enough, but I don't know what all the fuss is about." He raised his eyebrows and nodded. "I know what the fuss is about now," he admitted with a self-conscious laugh. He searched Raylan's face for a moment. "But what were you going to say?" he asked.

Raylan's smile spread a little at the brush of his cheek, hazel eyes coming up to watch Malcolm as he talked. Oh, sex was mostly worth all the fuss. He couldn't help but grin at Malcolm's assertion.

The followup made the grin falter back down into something of a self conscious little smile of his own. "You've got more experience in this than I do. Am I holdin' up to expectations?"

With a bit of cheek, he could get through anything. It helped that Malcolm had basically already just answered his question.

Malcolm laughed, but not unkindly. "No, not at all," he said. He looked up at his face. "Blown them out of the water, more like. Left them in the dust. Way, way exceeded expectations," he assured, giving him a kiss. "I might have to become a monk if you leave me. I can't go back to a lower standard than that."

His eyebrows had started to lift but it all broke into a grin again as Malcolm reassured him and sealed it with a kiss that Raylan leaned up into. "Go big or go home, right?"

He felt better about it. "Where'd all this come from?" He wasn't angry or judging either. He just didn't understand where the question stemmed from, especially considering he'd just officially purposed.

He winced slightly. "Well, deep in the recesses of my sleep deprived and chemically imbalanced mind - where I am also extremely excited about marrying you, just like the rest of me is - I suddenly thought... what if in, like, three or four years, you suddenly think 'you know what I miss? Women,' and I thought I should just... see if that was something you'd considered." It sounded kind of ridiculous now, but at that moment, it had seemed like an important question to ask. He looked at Raylan. "And then, since we were talking about sex anyway, it seemed like a good time to check in on how that's going... I try to keep that part of my head dialled down, I swear."

Edited 2020-09-01 16:18 (UTC)

Raylan smiled, glancing down at their collective laps for a minute, thinking he definitely did not have enough scotch in his hand to tackle the conversation as he'd like.

"It's not," he assured with a look at Malcolm, mouth still curled in a soft smile. "You're sexy as hell and you turn me on and given the chance, I might fuck you for days. If I really feel the need to see some titties, shit." He said, face curling as he bobbed his head. "I'll go to a strip club. But goin' to bed with you is more than satisfying and I don't plan on goin' to get into anyone else's anytime soon.. Or in three or four years," he clarified with a pull of his smile.

"Nothin like that will ever move you from top spot, darlin'."

Malcolm's smiled tentatively as Raylan responded, but it grew wider as he continued, if a little self-conscious. This was a new thing, this whole situation. One he'd never thought he could have.

And he believed him. About all of it. He could see the truth of it in Raylan's face.

He leaned up to steal another kiss, lingering in it for a moment.

"Can we start really planning the wedding once we find the house?" he asked. "Or should we wait for a bit?"

Good because Raylan meant it. He hadn't fucked anyone over a desk with a desperate furious need in literally years. He couldn't remember a time since his early 30s, actually. And maybe a decade between that and the time before it.

Malcolm had nothing to worry about.

Raylan trailed after the kiss a fraction, smiling as he did so and Malcolm's question made him chuckle. "Really that excited huh?" He was glad to see it. "We can start as soon as we move into the house. Otherwise, we'll be exhausted in the first week. I'm afraid that I can't be much help but I'll do my best. Whatever you need me to do."

He was that excited. And maybe a little bit he wanted to grab it before it dissipated into the ether like a dream.

Malcolm looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean 'can't be much help'? In what sense?" He had just been listing things they would have just before he proposed. He seemed pretty involved already.

"Catering or choosing plates or napkins or centerpieces, seatin' people," he said, shaking his head. "Makin' it look good." Making it look up to the standard that he knew Malcolm was used to. The standard they'd need to make his mother happy.

And if Malcolm thought that making his mother happy wouldn't be part of it, Raylan's experience told him that he was wrong.

"They got people to hire to do that, right? Wedding planners?"

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