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

[Under the wash of it all, of his far reaching need, Raylan growled softly with his next out breath, rolling them onto his back, a hand coming up to catch Malcolm's face and keep him close for a minute so he could kiss him again.]

I want you to drive.

[Malcolm wasn't expecting that and he laughed breathlessly. He could do that. He shifted his weight, rocking his hips back and forth, his pace already needy from Raylan's attention.

Raylan, sweaty and prone beneath him was erotic as hell and he wrapped one hand around his own cock, his strokes in time with each rock of his hips.]

[Malcolm and his wild hair and blue eyes were, well, half of the entire reason that Raylan was here and from down below, Raylan was still far from regretting this, especially with the tightness lacing through him as his hips lifted in time. His hands spread up Malcolm's thighs, but one kept going, laying over Malcolm's stroking hand in a silent request to take over.

All he wanted Malcolm worried about was working himself to whatever heights the afternoon could bring him.]

[He let Raylan's hand take the place of his with a soft gasp and, after a moment, let his eyes flutter shut and his head fall back, focused entirely on sensation, his breath coming increasingly in gasps and moans, his hips moving faster, until his breath catches.]

Raylan- [Through a gasp was all the warning he got before warm cum spilled over his stomach, Malcolm's movements stuttering for a moment, then continuing, still working to bring him to climax.]

[There was something entracing about it that Raylan readily lost himself to, bucking up into Malcolm as the man's hips came back and stroking him all in time, enough so that he didn't note his own grunts and half breathed sounds. The fast Malcolm moved, the faster he did and when Malcolm clenched around him, Raylan's head pressed back into the bed with a strangled breath only to come back forward.

His clean hand gripped Malcolm's hips as he kept bucking, lips curling the closer he got and the only warning he could give was a rough:] Shit, [before tensing underneath him with a few last hard pumps as he curled a little, falling back into the bed with a shuddering breath. It took a second for his eyes to open back up, but when they did, he was reaching up to pull Malcolm down for a kiss.]

[Malcolm returned the kiss, then let his head rest on Raylan's shoulder, knees on either side of his abdomen, curled up on top of him for a moment to catch his breath, fingertips fidgeting lightly on top of Raylan's other shoulder.

It had never been like that before. He felt like his whole body was still buzzing with electricity.

When he could finally draw a full - if shaky - breath, he lifted his head a little to look at Raylan's face.]

Was that okay?

[He knew there had been some hesitations beforehand. If Raylan wasn't comfortable with that, they could do other things. If it had been a conversation they were having, he would have watched his reactions in real time, but he had not been up to that under the circumstances. Feedback would have to do.]

[With Malcolm curled on top of him, Raylan let his hand move over and down Malcolm's shoulder, eyes falling closed again as he tried to catch and even his breath. The heartbeat that thrummed through his senses could have been either of theirs, as he was acutely aware of the one he could feel surrounding him.

Raylan breathed out a satisfied sounding breath as he cracked an eye at Malcolm, face curling around the edges as he started to smile. That would be Malcolm's feedback.]

You tell me. [Malcolm was the one with all the experience here.]

[Allll.....both times before this. He set his head back down on Raylan's shoulder and smiled lazily.]

It was... exceptionally good. [Admitted into the warmth of his skin.] You're a natural at a lot of things, it seems.

[Letting out a breathy huff of a chuckle as his fingers started stroking in idle enjoyment up and down Malcolm's back, Raylan smirked and pressed a kiss against Malcolm's temple.]

Good teachers help. Practice'll help more too, [he said, voice breaking into the grin that matched the one spreading on his face.] It's not so different from what I already know. Just.. new learning curves. [But he was okay with that, and it echoed in the warmth of his tone.]

[Raylan wasn't put off by any of it. He liked it. He liked Malcolm. He liked Malcolm like this. An easier smile came to his face at those remarks. He looked up at Raylan's face. God, it was nice. Just the right shape; all chiseled and angular.]

I don't actually want to get up but... I really feel the need to clean up.... some of the mess.

[While he was comfortable and warm, there was also a growing chill in the stickiness between their stomachs. He started untangling himself, gesturing with both hands for Raylan to stay right where he was while Malcolm ran to the bathroom, quickly cleaned himself up and then returned with a washcloth he'd dampened with warm water to do the same for Raylan, gently and carefully, before sliding up along his side to curl up with him again.]

You're not the only one, [Raylan assured with another huff of amusement and a glance down, shivering a little Malcolm's retreat and the sudden coldness that was left in his wake. He lifted his eyebrows a little in response to Malcolm's gesture and, with a soft look of fond amusement, propped himself on his elbows to watch as Malcolm bounded away and back again.

Once he was cleaned up and had use of both his hands, Raylan happily laid back down with an arm around Malcolm's shoulder and the other on the arm over his stomach.]

I thought it would be.. messier, [he admitted as he stared at the ceiling and enjoyed the quiet aftermath of what they'd done. This is what he wanted- them momentarily spent and sprawled in a bed together. Malcolm still felt good against him, and Raylan didn't feel guilty or bad at all. That was more surprising than anything.]

[Malcolm traced a pattern softly across Raylan's chest with his fingertips, smiling at the observation.] It can be if you do it wrong. You were right that it can be painful if you do it wrong, too. [Explained as idly as the lazy pattern he was tracing.] Just like with emotional intimacy, you have to be careful whose hands you put yourself in. [He looked up from the smooth skin of his chest to look at his face.] It's weird how quickly I trusted you. I don't trust anyone just like that.

Good to know I was right on something.

[He liked the fingers on his chest and shifted his head a little to look down, sure that it did terrible things to his chin, to meet Malcolm's eye.] You mean you don't always let your Gala dates kiss you after a crazy day of saving your life?

[ They were edging towards a more serious kind of territory and Raylan still couldn't stop the instinctive affable charm from slipping out to try to steer it away.]

For the first few days after I came home, I tried to convince myself it was the whiskey or the.. [The killing and the stress of it. Everyone could think he was so cool and Raylan could defend his justifications, but the What if haunted him, just like the shit he'd seen happen. Just like the dead men he'd watched fade to that status.]

But when your name popped up again on my phone, there was no whiskey or Quarles. [And he'd had the same rush of adrenaline and butterflies.] Just my being happy to talk to you. How'd you suppose that happened, hm?

[He shifted back to staring at the ceiling with a sigh. He didn't have an answer for that question either.]

[He huffed a self-conscious laugh.]

The night you tackled me to the floor just outside this room, I told you everything. Why did I do that? When you came to New York, I didn't think... this was in the cards, but... I harassed you into staying on my couch because I wanted to spend time with you.

[Raylan smiled thinking back on it. That first night, he'd done nothing but stop Malcolm from accidentally killing himself in his terrors; New York, well.. He could have found a room with the other Marshals.]

I didn't fight your harrassment too hard, as I recall. Felt like you just.. wanted someone to hear it, at the time. [He kept that idle stroke up, unrelenting in his apparent need to restock Malcolm's Touch Starved stores. Frankly, he was affection starved himself, always hungry for it and the lift that the hope for happiness gave him.]

From what you've said, most people don't seem to make it past the base file, so to speak.

[He set his head back down, smiling into Raylan's shoulder.]

A lot of people don't even make it to the base file. I'm quite widely considered weird and annoying without being the spawn of a serial killer. [He looked up at Raylan again.] Though when I got here the first time, I was concerned someone was going to find out who I was and you wouldn't help me anymore.

[Reaching over Malcolm, Raylan snagged a pillow to tuck under his head and looked down at him once he was comfortable.]

Most of our daddies are killers; yours is just a fancy one. For the most part, the sins of the father aren't the sins of the son. No one in the office will blame you for your parents.

Why did you trust me with all that? [If Malcolm even knew; Raylan was familiar with the feeling of not knowing.] Not that I'm complainin'.

[Malcolm - forever interested in why anyone did anything, even when it was to his own detriment - had considered it.]

I guess... once you saw the night terror and barely flinched, it seemed like the cat was out of the bag anyway about...my problems, to some degree. And if I put everything else on the table and you didn't leave, then maybe we could be friends.

[He didn't have a lot of friends. More currently than ever, but that was still a very small number. And the truth coming out after substantial ground was gained had ruined more than one budding friendship, but so had the truth coming out too soon. He hadn't found the right balance to strike between letting them get to know him first for who he was and the interests of full disclosure before they thought he was hiding things from them on purpose.]

I felt like we were getting along and just...took a risk, I guess, and hoped you'd still like me if you...actually knew me.

Vets have night terrors too. Not something I'm completely unfamiliar with. [His hand settled again, feeling a little bit like he was locking Malcolm protective against him.]

The details of it.. They're bad but its not the worst I've heard.. or seen. You're a good guy. What screams at you in your sleep doesn't change that.

[Raylan shifted to look down at him.]

So. Worth the risk so far?

[You're a good guy. He wasn't sure of that all the time. He tried to be. But there was something gratifying in hearing Raylan say it.

Malcolm breathed out a smile.]

More than.

Why did you take the chance on something that.... made you fundamentally uncomfortable? [There was only curiosity in his tone. Raylan had mentioned telling himself it was the whiskey and the stress but... he also could tell that he hadn't really believed it. And even if he had... it never had to go farther than that. He could have taped up his shoulder and sent him on home.]

[Good. Raylan smiled back up at the ceiling, softly so. He should have expected the return question but he didn't. Still - Raylan couldn't wrap it up and tuck it away and he wasn't ready to get up just yet. Once they did, this bubble of.. he wasn't sure what to quantify it as, but it would burst and they'd be back to waiting for the next chance to just exist next to each other.

He took a long few moments and deep breath before even starting to try to answer. He wasn't like Malcolm; he didn't try to understand these things most of the time, but New York haunted him, playing on a reel in the back of his mind as he tried to even start to take it apart.]

I had a way to escape it all...

When I called in New York, it was for the job. You're a good asset. Then you invited me in and I said yes because it'd be rude not to.. and I enjoyed our time together when you were down here. [They were already tentative friends, in Raylan's mind.]

I knew you liked me. Wasn't sure how far that went but, I could tell that.. After your mother and getting a little too drunk and pissed at that Gala, all I could think about was Quarles holding that knife to your throat.. [And Malcolm knew how that had turned out. He'd killed a man to save Malcolm and he'd needed, somehow, to revel in the life worth saving.]

I don't know why I took that chance. [He didn't know if there was a blunt, succinct way to say all of this and he already felt like he'd been talking too long.] But taking the first one made all the rest easier.

[Everything that had led to here had been chances, one after the other.]

[His mother. God, she'd been so out of line; she could have ruined everything. He'd been worried she'd freak Raylan out and he wouldn't even want to be friends anymore.

Malcolm had almost forgotten the knife to his throat, even with the pale red line remaining to remind him in the right light at the bathroom mirror. He got himself into situations like that sometimes. They didn't seem to touch his trauma. They were just side-effects of what he did. But he was starting to see that that moment had affected Raylan much more profoundly. Feelings he'd denied to even himself brought into sharp relief at the imminent sudden end of a life and what to do with them.

He'd lifted his head at 'Wasn't sure how far that went' and watched it all play out on Raylan's face. Malcolm learned a lot more from people's eyes and the creases of their brows and every little stress reaction in their faces than he did from their words.

He rolled a little towards Raylan, scooting up a bit so their faces were close together, his hand moving from Raylan's chest to ghost lightly along his cheek. He lifted his eyes to Raylan's eyes.]

It surprised me when you did. [Until the moment Raylan pulled him into that kiss in the hallway, he wouldn't have guessed it could happen.] But it was a good surprise.

[The faint pinch between Raylan's eyebrows eased a fraction but didn't vanish completely as he shifted his head the slight bit to be looking at Malcolm straight on. As much as he wanted this to be easy, for both their sakes, it wasn't. He wasn't.]

Why'd you really fly down here? [Speaking of surprises.

Not stupid enough to assume he knew, Raylan could only guess. He wanted to hear it from Malcolm anyway - there wasn't a better way to beat back doubts than verifying, and Malcolm hadn't lied to him yet.]

You invited me. [Matter-of-factly, but he could only hold the straight face for half a second and he laughed lightly at himself.] Okay. What I told you was true. About not wanting to tell anyone at home that I was injured at all, much less worried about the injury. I really don't want them to start telling me to wait in the car again. But.... [He reached up and threaded his fingers through Raylan's hair.] When you joked that I should come down here, I jumped on it because I wanted to see you again.

[Always a sucker for levity, Raylan couldn't stop his face from breaking into a huffed smile as he rolled his eyes, and it lingered there as Malcolm continued. He knew Malcolm was smart enough that, if he really had to, he could have figured out how to tend to the wound himself, the highly motivated learner that he was and the exception to that wasn't missed.

Raylan took another deep breath as his head moved into Malcolm's hand a little. Yes, he liked that touch.]

If you hadn't, I don't know if I'd ever have come to New York again. [Said with a grateful note because Raylan knew how he was. He was a runner, and had been since he was a kid.] Something about you and.. where you come from, how New York is.. lets me do this. You're not stained with the bullshit of Kentucky. The religion, the phobia.. the Toxic Masculinity. [Malcolm had been right when he said that it was a poison on the place.]

Text Overflow: It's just a flesh wound

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