It was a little frightening, exhilarating - Raylan couldn't decide - that Malcolm was as wound as he was. Dangerous spot he'd gotten himself in, emotionally speaking. He'd already crossed the line; drawing back now or pretending it didn't happen or that it didn't mean anything would be more damaging than anything else.

He didn't want to damage Malcolm any more. He didn't want to make things worse for daring to want something. Whatever Malcolm was offering that wasn't cement.

Raylan's answer was a hand sliding around Malcolm's waist to gently urging him close again, their legs tangling together as Raylan leaned to kiss him with a gentle chasteness that deepened in intensity the longer their lips were together until it broke with a tilt of his head and a breath.

"I don't want to leave. Not just yet and not tonight. It's okay."