tinstar | Text Overflow: It's just a flesh wound

No. You're.. perfect where you are. [ The pause came with a little sigh.]

I like the weight of you. [ His eyes were already closed, voice husking with the threat of sleep.] It's crazy after only so many actual days with you but.. I think I'm fallin' in love with you.

[Maybe it was the lack of sleep, maybe it was the crashing high of his fear and emotions, but it didn't seem worth keeping to himself anymore.]

If that's okay.

[If that's okay. Malcolm was just putting his head back down when it snapped up again and he stared at Raylan for a second.

IF THAT'S OKAY?

He shifted to press a tender kiss to Raylan's mouth in answer.]

It's more than okay.

[He settled his head back down on Raylan's shoulder.]

...Is it.... is it okay with you?

[Mostly it surprised Malcolm because Raylan had expressed reservations. But maybe the fact that, despite them, he'd been drawn to Malcolm anyway should have made it less surprising.]

[Raylan cracked on eye at Malcolm, catching his reaction and the look on his shadowed face before he was filling his vision and his lips that Raylan fully lifted his head to follow, in equal tenderness, until he couldn't, dropping his head back down afterwards.

He felt.. better for the admission, however foolish it may or may not have been.]

You can ask me that in the morning too. Though the answer ain't gonna change.. [ Rayland tightened on him and he hummed softly.]

Just til I'm good and under, [he reasoned, quickly succumbing to the draw of heavy sleep with a subtle evening and softening of his breath as the silence set in around them.]

[He was 'good and under' pretty quickly, but Malcolm stayed there for hours, listening to his breath and breathing his scent. How was he going to leave when the weekend was over?

By the time Raylan woke, though, Malcolm was downstairs. His pill bottles formed a tidy line on the dining table and he was in warrior pose at one end of the room. There was even a smell of coffee. He'd seen Raylan make it last time and managed to find everything.

His expression was peaceful. The distilled essence of what had gone on the previous day had worked through his mind while he'd lingered in Raylan's arms. From the smallest kiss on the gun range, to the hot passion of the shed, to the comfortable companionshp of the porch, to the quiet declarations in bed. It had been the best rollercoaster of everything that had been pushed down in his heart after their night in New York.]

[Having slept a little later than he intended to, Raylan slipped on his jeans and followed the smell of coffee downstairs, rubbing his eyes as he went. Despite the interruption of the night, the weight of Malcolm on his chest had put him under hard, and he didn't feel or look terrible as he ambled into the kitchen, pausing at the door jam to watch Malcolm's.... lunge stretch was the best description that Raylan could define it with.

This time, instead of announcing he was awake, he'd just watch, and see how long it would take Malcolm to notice him.]

[Taking a deep breath that coincided with the movement, Malcolm shifted from Warrior into Triangle pose, holding there for a moment. It was as he shifted into Half-Moon pose that he opened his eyes for a second and spotted Raylan there.

He smiled brightly, still holding the position.]

Hi! I made coffee. ...I hope I did it right. I used the number of scoops it said on the package. Let me know if it's crap! I'll try again. Practice makes perfect!

[He hadn't had any yet; he liked to let his pills go down first.

He shifted to Downward Dog.]

[Raylan wasn't sure if he'd ever really get used to the sheer perk of Morning Malcolm, but it was effective at pulling a smile across Raylan's face as he moved in towards the coffee.]

It's pretty hard to mess up pot coffee. [ Didn't mean someone couldn't manage to mess it up anyway, but Raylan poured himself a cup, pulling down a second cup for Malcolm when he got done with his morning stretches, and took a sip as he turned around to lean on the counter.]

Might do an extra scoop next time, but it's still good. [He took another sip, as though to prove it.] How long have you been up?

[ He meant up and out of bed - there wouldn't be any more questions about how long or how well Malcolm might have slept. ]

[Still in Downward Dog, Malcolm lifted his left hand from the mat and turned his wrist out to look at his watch on the inside of his wrist before putting his hand back down and shifting into a plank.]

About... three hours. Today's affirmation was 'Life does not have to be perfect to be wonderful'. Did you sleep well?

[Afterwards, obviously. After... all that.]

[Raylan lifted his eyebrows with a thoughtful bob of his head at the affirmation as he watched. If Malcolm hadn't offered, he would have asked, and the forethought of sharing was a sweet one.]

I think I know what it's like to sleep under a weighted blanket now. Hope I didn't snore too loudly.

[Malcolm laughed lightly as he pushed himself up to his feet.]

So what if you did? It's not like you'd be keeping me up. [Pointed out cheerfully as he padded over to press a brief kiss to Raylan's mouth.] But you didn't. Snore, that is. [He poured coffee into the cup Raylan had brought down for him.]

[He hummed a note of agreement, he supposed, smiling as he pressed into the passing 'good morning' kiss.]

Good. Did you explore the house at all while I was passed out? Dig through some drawers?

[Not that Malcolm would find much of anything out of the ordinary, beyond some random bullets, the deer rifle, and some more old photos. Raylan didn't think that he did, but even if he had, it would be okay.]

[Malcolm sipped his coffee and looked over at Raylan.]

I didn't look in any drawers, but I walked around. I mean. You were made here. I usually use that assessment to analyze how killers were made, but... the principle holds. Everyone is shaped by their childhood home. [He wrapped his hands around his cup.] My mother still lives in the house where I grew up. I can take you there next time you're in town, if you want.

[Fair was fair.]

[Raylan reached out, tugging Malcolm against his side by his waist.]

Mm, and what did this assessment tell ya?

Yeah, I'd love to see it. Assuming your mother lets us in the front door. [Especially after his 'assault' on Martin, Raylan didn't expect any kind of magnanimus greetings. Oh sure, the fake shine that Jessica drew about her when her smile was tight was something he was sure he'd get, but he was aware of the tracks he made.]

Nothing that you haven't told me. [But he got more of an idea what that looked like.

He was easily drawn to Raylan's side, pressing a kiss into his shoulder as he was tucked against him.]

She'll let us in. And she'll be a gracious hostess. She misses it.

[He hummed again. Good.] Part of me worried that you'd see something I hadn't. [In how it shaped him.]

I bet she's fantastic at it. [Raylan imagined that Jessica Whitly was fantastic at everything she put her mind to.]

I'm gonna have to deal with Bob sooner rather than later today... which might be better. Less time for people to crawl into bottles. You still wanna come?

[They weren't going now and Raylan didn't plan on going for at least an hour yet, but he liked a loose plan for his days.] I can find that axe for throwing that you mentioned for later too.

Do I want to come? Of course I do!

[He was already considering what to wear. And considering the previous day's interaction with Bob.]

Bob really admires you, huh? It's no wonder he watches your house when you're not here. He wants to save the day for you; he wants to impress you.

Edited 2020-05-01 18:12 (UTC)

[That made Raylan's smile curl up again behind a sip of his coffee. Of course he wanted to come, silly for Raylan to have asked.

Half shrugging with another uneven nod, Raylan had to admit it:]

Since he can't be me, he wants to be my best friend. Or get taken out on Marshal rides to give his badge more purpose than it's got. But he's a good guy. Means well. Even if he does wear me out with how much he talks. [Which was why Raylan was patient with him.]

This place needs more people like him. Who care.

He used to get picked on, in highschool. Terrible assholes, teenagers.. Always felt kinda bad for him. Guess that hasn't changed.

[But for all that, Raylan wasn't arrogant or condescending.]

You kind of have a soft spot for the socially ostracized, don't you. [Teasing. But also not.]

What are we expecting to happen at this bar?

Someone's gotta. [He replied quietly with a sidelong glance at Malcolm. Maybe he did have a soft spot for them but he wasn't ashamed of the rightness of it. He knew what it was like to be beat on, pushed around, kicked when you're down.. He couldn't help but stand up for people when he saw it.]

A whole lot of bluster with hopefully no ugly words. It'll be fine. Boring even, if we're lucky.

You eat yet? I think I'm going to make toast.

'Boring if we're lucky'. Doesn't sound like the authentic Kentucky experience to me.

[When he asked about eating, though, Malcolm's whole being perked up.]

Oh! I was going to make eggs. Do you want eggs? Where's your frying pan? [Midsentence he detached himself from Raylan's side, looking around the kitchen.]

Trust me, you want borin' out here. The alternative is nothing good.

[Malcolm's flitting made him smile. ]

Under the cabinet, there. [He pointed it out gesture.] I didn't know eggs were on the soup menu. Any chance you're eating some too?

[He wouldn't push but he had to ask.]

I will eat an egg. [A beat.] Part of an egg, at least. [He grabbed the frying pan and looked over at Raylan before putting it on the stove with a flourish.] I ate an egg at that diner you brought me to the first time I was here. Part of an egg. We had to go and you can't rush eating an egg. Didn't want to vomit in your car. Bad first impression.

[He got the eggs from the fridge and cracked three into a bowl, added a little milk and whisked them up with a fork, then poured them into the pan. Then he opened a drawer and shut it and looked at Raylan.] Spatula?

Eating is not cooking, strictly speakin'.

My car and I appreciate it. Smell never comes out. Especially eggs.

[Reaching down, Raylan opened a drawer and pulled a plastic one out, flipping it in his hand before holding it out.]

They were good eggs though, as I remember.

Yeah, I didn't feel at all sick afterwards.

[He started pushing the eggs around the pan as they cooked, scrambling them up.]

Do you want toast with it?

[Raylan hummed an agreement and pushed off the counter to fetch the small silver toaster out of it's corner.

On the table, Raylan's blackberry style phone buzzed alive, Winona Hawkings, and he padded over to pick it up, considered the screen and glanced at Malcolm before silencing it. Winona would call again if it was serious - after 6 years of marriage and running through all the various scenarios that he threw her for consideration, they had a system, even now.]

You having toast or is that too much?

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