Tim can't say anything, can't find enough words to string together for any kind of warning, let alone a whole sentence. That dam breaks like its been hit with a wrecking ball, crumbling apart all at once as wave after crashing wave of pleasure washes over him. All he can do is moan and rack up those noise complaints, cling to Raylan like the other man is the only thing keeping him afloat in the sea of euphoria. He feels Raylan follow shortly after, filling him with a hot, sticky load. It's filthy and obscene and a feeling he could definitely get used to.

They kiss, still rocking against each other slowly. A decidedly unhurried come down, which is nice. Because after this is when they actually have to face what's happened. Fucking drunk, falling sleep together, fucking sober -- they're past the point of being able to blame it on the alcohol, now. And they have to be on the same page before they're sitting side-by-side at work.

He's still in no hurry though as he unwinds himself from Raylan, unhitching his legs, lowering his hand from the headboard. The one in Raylan's hair stays though, lazily stroking as he chases Raylan's mouth for a few more short kisses.

"I don't think I'm gonna be able to look the 90 year old lady who lives below me in the eye again."