Slingin' from the hip, never the heart. | Open Post

Raylan's job took him everywhere, from Harlan to Los Angeles to Paris. The Marshals service was demanding but Raylan leaned into the work, traveling as needed to get to get his man.
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Raylan smiles cheekily at the reminder, eyebrows bouncing softly. He wasn't sorry at all - now that he knew he could make it hard to focus, there was a satisfaction in it. In knowing that Tim wanted him as much as he wanted Tim. In knowing that he would end up back here in Gutterson's bed at the end of the day.
"We can get breakfast on the way," he promises, bending to kiss Tim's neck despite the tugs and nudges before crawling off him and standing up, still smiling. "Lead the way."