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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He's almost positive that Raylan hasn't even realized he's said it. And maybe he just means the next time Tim has sex in general, but Tim's choosing to believe that he means the next time they have sex. After all, Raylan stayed the night, and he doesn't seem rushed to get dressed and see himself out. It reasons that they might both want a next time. Tim reaches up, idly fingering the bruise Raylan left on his throat. It aches pleasantly beneath his touch. Also worth it.
"Probably just gonna tell 'er to guess and see what happens. Seems fun. Let 'em all start up a bettin' pool they ain't ever gonna get the answer to."
It would be their fault for ever expecting to get a straight answer from him of all people. Nobody keeps their personal life as closely guarded in that office as he does. Not even Rachel, though she's a very close second.
"Next time," he ventures, trailing a hand down Raylan's side and bringing it to a rest on his hip. "Maybe we try out some surfaces that aren't the bed. Or the couch."
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Something Raylan would respect, if it was laid out. Even if he didn't really want to.
He can't help but chuckle at Tim's assessment. It was always a hellva lotta fun to watch him fuck with people, until those people were Raylan, but the rumor mill would go wild and Raylan would bet there'd be a betting pool by lunch about how Tim got all marked up. One he'd put twenty dollars in so no one suspects anything. Not that he thought they would anyway.
Tim's trailing hand has Raylan's skin growing goose bumps, and he can't help but smile at the suggestion. The hand draped on Tim's hip grips him slightly, Raylan's smile widening into a soft, impish grin as his heartbeat picks up.
"Lookin' to break a table huh? Really, we just outta make a nest in your livin' room." His expression softens a little, grin coming back down to an easy smile. "Just tell me when. No whiskey required."
Just in case Tim had the idea to get it into his head that Raylan would only do this drunk. Drunk or sober, he wanted Tim. It might all be a mistake - there were office rules for a reason and Raylan was forever eyeing the door out of Kentucky - but that had never stopped him before. It wasn't going to stop him now either.
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Damage that not even Raylan fully knows the extent of. The vicious cycle of trauma and drinking and nightmares. Some are harder to come back from than others. Some feel impossible to pull himself out of until he does. None of them are something he wants other people around for.
But this -- Raylan's crooked smile and the hand gripping his hip, everything highlighted in an early morning post-sex glow. He's thought about it too much to willingly let it go now that he has it within reach. Even if it means selfishly breaking a few of his own rules.
Maybe it'll end in disaster, but maybe it'll be as worth it as the broken furniture.
"What if I said tonight?"
Is it greedy? Almost certainly. Does he care? Definitely not.
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"If you said tonight, then I'd have to say that we gotta get goin'. Get the work day started so we can end it again," he says, smile spreading as he leans in and steals Tim's lips up in a kiss. When it breaks, he keeps his face close.
"Come shower with me. I don't care about comin' into the office smellin' like you and no one would know the difference anyway."
Right now, there were no downsides. That might change as some of the rose colored film rubs off, but that was always going to come so Raylan plans on enjoying what Tim will allow him to for as long as he can.
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He's never much been one for leisurely kisses, or for lazing around in bed, but he finds himself wanting to do both with Raylan. This already feels like such a slippery slope, but he's not turning back now.
"You're gonna make it real hard for me to focus today, you know."
Nobody else will know the difference, but all he's going to think about when he catches his own scent on Raylan is their time together this morning. He gives Raylan's hair a gentle tug, nudging him by the shoulder so they can both get up.
"Shower then coffee. Can't say I have much in the way of breakfast, though."
Unless Raylan wants to eat an MRE, which Tim very highly doubts.
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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."