tinstar | Contact for the Village

[From here.]

Malcolm gasped against Raylan's mouth as he rolled onto him and once his hand was free, he slid his fingers up into Raylan's hair. His still restrained hand could just reach Raylan's ribs and he pulled at his shirt, trying to yank it from his waistband with his limited range of movement.

The gasp was markedly different from the ones Raylan usually heard, those ones of him pulling out of a terrible darkness, and this one set something in him on fire. He quickly helped by tugging up the back most of his shirts out of his pants before shifting his weight onto his arm so he could free Malcolm's other hand. The kiss had to break so he could pull back enough to figure out what he was doing, bangs already dislodged and falling into his face but as soon as the hand was free, he was bending back down to slide his non weight bearing hand up and under Malcolm's shirt, letting his fingers play over the knife of his side.

Malcolm could feel his heart pounding in his chest when Raylan looked at him like that, his hand like fire on his skin under his shirt. He just held his gaze for a long moment, pupils blown, letting his hand slide from his hair down his cheek to his jaw. Then, with both hands, reached over his shoulders to pull his shirts up and off over his head.

He liked the way this looked on Malcolm, all wide eyes and lips that begged to be kiss bruised, breath appropriately edging towards a heavy pant that had nothing to do with nightmares at all. He liked the way Malcolm looked at him right now and turned his face into Malcolm's palm as it moved, eyes locked onto his.

Curving his back, Raylan retracted enough to help Malcolm get the layers off him and wasted no time in pushing up the overly large t-shirt that would have separated them off Malcolm in return before sinking down with a throaty note of appreciation at the way their chests felt together.

When Raylan's skin met his, he wasted no time leaning up to claim the other man's mouth with an even greater urgency, hand sliding back up into his hair. His other hand slid up and across Raylan's back as his hips lifted against him, the friction through his trackpants making him moan into the kiss.

There was always a certain point in this kind of situation where Raylan's brain shut totally off. The way Malcolm grabbed his back and rolled into him was it.

Raylan's hand tightened on him, hips rolling forward in kind and he breathed a rough note at what he felt, both his and Malcolm's. Pulling back a little, he tugged at his belt and pulled it free to toss to the side before it did any damage. There wasn't a second to waste in rolling himself back down against Malcolm and kissing him again, hand moving back down and around to the base of his spine, fingers threatening to tuck under Malcolm's waistband before he rolled them over so Malcolm was on top of him.

Suddenly Malcolm found himself with his knees on either side of Raylan’s hips, most of his weight still on the marshal’s chest, gripping his upper arms as he’d done at some point in the roll, to steady himself.

He broke the kiss to lift his head as they landed, looking down into Raylan’s face.

When did that face become one of the safest places in his life?

“Hi,” he murmured, letting go of his arms so one hand could take his weight while the other reached up to thread through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead even as Malcolm’s own hair fell in front of his face. Fingertips trailed his cheekbone and then his jaw, lingering under his chin as Malcolm leaned in for a slower, deeper kiss.

This felt better, giving himself up to Malcolm and the speed and lines the New Yorker may have had. It didn't hurt that he'd thought about what Malcolm would look like propped up over him like this and now that both his hands were free from weight bearing, he could slowly run them up Malcolm's back and explore the firm muscles he found there. His head drummed with the kisses and the heat left in their wake, though Malcolm could have just been superheating the moonshine in his system.

"Hey," he murmured back, unashamedly enjoying the way Malcolm seemed to be looking through his masks and bullshit. The fingers under his chin made him lift his face a fraction, happy to be moved into whatever position Malcolm wanted to meet the kiss. His hands paused their exploration for a moment as he breathed Malcolm and his taste in, but slipped back around the smaller man in an almost possessive embrace.

Beautiful, was the answer of how Malcolm looked, wild hairs and all.

Raylan's arms around him felt... safe and right. He lifted his head again when the kiss broke, watching his face for another moment, before sitting up, still straddling his hips, shifting just enough to create a little friction and to reach the button and zipper of Raylan's jeans. His fingers brushed Raylan's stomach and he looked up at his face from under his brow and that veil of hair hanging across one eye as he popped the button, to see how he felt about that before he started working the zipper open.

Raylan's hands felt too rough against Malcolm's skin, like their skin reflected their class. Like his bloody angry hands didn't deserve to run along marbled silk, like he'd dirty Malcolm with touch alone. But something in him revealed in that as much as it mocked him, as much as it thrilled him, and they moved down to settle on his thighs as Malcolm sat up and back. The shifting made his hips lift up with a short sharp breath, stomach fluttering under the passing touch, and he kept his eyes up on Malcolm's face, chin falling in the barest nod of encouragement.

He was more than eager to let Malcolm continue.

Malcolm's breath hitched at the encouragement and he slid down a bit more, pulling the zipper down and then leaning over to press a kiss to his stomach before reaching for his waistband and shimmying his jeans and boxers down over his hips so he could yank them down off his legs.

His hands shifted into the bedsheets as Malcolm moved and he couldn't stop the half hitched moan of a breath that slipped out with the kiss on his stomach, lifting his hips to facilitate the stripping. Raylan expected himself to be embarrassed at this point and he was, but not so much that it mattered in the slightest. There was no hiding or arguing against the full staff erection he was sporting and he wasn't about to rescind any permissions given. But Malcolm was running the show right now and Raylan watched him with dark eyes and a heavy breath, perverted curious what came next.

What looked like 'running the show' was more 'giving in to a building need' but it still saw him tossing Raylan's pants onto the floor and then wriggling out of his sweatpants and throwing them in the pile. He shifted and made his way back up Raylan's body, kissing him gently, and then almost immediately more urgently as his hips moved to cause skin on skin friction between them.

For a second, he was concerned that Malcolm wouldn't be joining him in this totally naked thing and Raylan happily welcomed Malcolm back up to him, hands taking advantage of the lack of pants to run down his hips and legs as far as he could before his body was pushing up into the slide of skin on skin. He moaned softly into the kiss, kissing back with an intense need that had his head lifting a little from the pillow to keep Malcolm's lips firmly against his.

Malcolm squeezed his eyes shut, grunting against Raylan's mouth as the friction sent a more intense shiver of arousal through him. When the kiss broke, he was breathless, pushing himself up with an arm on either side of Raylan's head, looking down into his face for a moment.

"W-wait here," he panted, rolling off of him to go rummage in a dresser drawer. It was probably a good thing they were in his room; he kept the extra bottle of shampoo he pillaged from town in there and needs must where supplies were concerned. There wasn't exactly a reliable sex shop in Mathias or they'd have some decent headboard restraints for his night terrors.

When he made it back to the bed, clambering up onto Raylan again, he kissed him deeply one more time before sitting up, opening the bottle in his hand to slather shampoo up Raylan's length, working him with a couple of slick strokes before he reached back to smear a little on himself. He closed the bottle and tossed it aside, then carefully slid onto Raylan, his full attention on the Marshal's face, even as his breath hitched at the penetration.

The grunt earned a half breathed growl of need that left Raylan's eyes darker under the tilt of his brow as the kiss broke, his hands forcibly loosen from Malcolm so he was able to slip away at all. His head dropped back with heavy breaths, eyes following Malcolm as he moved. No, he liked this. The lines of Malcolm as he moved, the way he looked when he was aroused and ready, the way that Raylan was the reason for it.

He didn't know what was in the bottle Malcolm held specifically, but he knew what it was for. He thought, for some reason, that he'd be scared or awkward about where this was heading but those concerns, practically speaking, fell out a window once he let Malcolm kiss him again.

Raylan slid his hands back up Malcolm's legs as he was climbed over, lips happily stolen up in another kiss, breath a little ragged as Malcolm pulled back, but as soon as those slick fingers wrapped around him, Raylan breathed half a tight sound from the back of his throat, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as his mouth opened, but he wasn't going to miss watching what came next. Hooking his fingers behind Malcolm's knees, he watched with no small amount of lusty fascination as Malcolm positioned and slid onto him. His eyes darted up to Malcolm's face, lips curling with a equally tightly groaned moan as he was taken in. Once Malcolm was fully seated, Raylan shuddered in pleasure, hands sliding up to grip into Malcolm's hips as he lifted his own with a more focused exhale and a softly muttered "Fuck," of sheer sexual delight.

How did this feel this good?

Physics. Biology? Malcolm didn’t have much presence of mind at the moment, as he started moving on Raylan, slow and easy at first, almost a tease to his own urgent need. Raylan’s grip told him this was still okay with him. As he picked up his pace a little, he leaned down to capture Raylan’s mouth in an increasingly messy kiss, his hand slipping between them to work his own length in time.

Things much more easily expected from people who were accustomed to such a joining but there was no rational sense left in Raylan's head to consider it. All he felt, all he was, was a rising need to sink himself into the New Yorker, giving him one of the most intimate sides of himself as he thrust up with a rough sound as he met the kiss. He didn't notice Malcolm's hand until the kiss broke, and he had no control over what came out of his mouth.

"Lean back, I wanna watch you move," he growled, hands sliding up Malcolm's torso to encourage just that.

With Raylan’s initial uncertainty, Malcolm wasn’t expecting boldness, but he gave in to it easily, sitting up to look down at him without losing the rhythm in his hips or his hand.

He wasn’t sure what he’d see on his face when he could watch it like this. His expression was more free than expected. It made Malcolm feel a lot less like he was out on the thin branch now.

It made it a lot easier for him to just give himself over to the pleasure of the act.

There wasn't much about Raylan that was shy and timid and the bedroom was never going to be the place where he started. He had had his reservations, but in hindsight they were silly and childish. Or that was the raw need to watch Malcolm enjoy himself talking.

Either way, Raylan's hands slid back to Malcolm's thighs to grip there and kept his ass tight, giving Malcolm a better platform to move on as he pleased. Raylan liked being used in such a way, ridden like a work horse, driving like one and it had been long enough that any cares he might have had didn't matter. Malcolm cared about him. Wanted him.

The sound of his heavier breaths and the way he looked above Raylan was exactly what he wanted.

Malcolm tilted his head back, squeezing his eyes shut as he drew near climax, his breaths coming in shallow gasps as he tried to hold off a little, but he lacked the practice to exercise that kind of control and he came a moment later, curling in a little with a shudder and a warm spillage across Raylan’s stomach. He rode it out for a moment before picking the rhythm back up, moving on Raylan with a breathless determination.

Raylan couldn't stop himself, hips thrusting up to meet Malcolm and sink himself as deep into the man rode him, a roughly half growled note of pleasure escaping him as Malcolm clenched around him. In the heat of everything, the warmth on his lower stomach was just more arousing and Raylan reached up with one hand to draw Malcolm down into a kiss while the other found his hips, helping encourage the rythem and movement.

Breaking the kiss with another rough sound, Raylan could only mutter a half given warning before he tensed and unloaded into him, body shuddering as he curled into Malcolm as much as he could. There was a passing concern that he shouldn't have came where he did, but the white rolling over his vision didn't leave much room for anything other than bliss. His hips jutted again a few times, like Raylan's body desperately wanted more, wanted to continue despite the exhausted half drunkenness of its host, before he relaxed into the bed a little with a careful look into Malcolm's face.

Malcolm’s face was kiss bruised and his expression was a bit dazed, but also warm and hopefully Raylan would forgive him for looking a little smitten.

He leaned over and gave him one more kiss, relatively chaste but lingering, then pushed himself up off of the marshal, gesturing for him to stay put as Malcolm went to the closet and rummaged around for a towel, wiping himself off with one end before stepping over to clean Raylan up with the other.

“Are you... okay?”

Okay with it or... was Malcolm okay or... he wasn’t even sure exactly what he was asking as he tossed the towel into the corner to be washed later, then crawled back onto the bed to curl up against Raylan’s side.

Raylan's world was still spinning as he was kissed again and there was no attempts to get up. His legs were weak and his heartbeat was pounding in his ears. There was a slight half open mouth attempt at protest but he sank back into the sheets with a breath.

One hand lifted along with his head in surprise at the clean up, but he let Malcolm do it, easily welcoming him back into his arms, one hand wrapping around Malcolm's shoulder while his other settled on Malcolm's forearm with a quiet hum.

"I'm.. perfect," he assured softly. "Are.. are you?" He asked, shifting his head enough to look down at him. Who would have thought that him, Raylan Givens would ever be here and happy about it. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd been okay or not but that.. wasn't a question easily asked.

The question brought the dreamy, smitten smile back for a moment, until he worried about what it looked like and he swallowed it down a bit, looking up to meet Raylan's gaze.

"I'm great," he said honestly. "I'm... really good."

It had been months, even before he arrived in Mathias.

He pressed a kiss to Raylan's shoulder.

"Do you... I mean, it's probably not safe for you to stay up here, huh?"

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject