Text Overflow: It's just a flesh wound

[tinstar]

[Continued from: here]

[Raylan took advantage of having several hours to bring his hotel room back into something resembling tidiness, as well as taking a shower and grabbing a nap - Sleep wasn't something anyone got a lot of around Malcolm Whitly, but he'd long learned how to live and work on smaller amounts of sleep.

Dressed but with his button up open and no shoes on his feet, Raylan answered the door with a pull of a smile.] Managed to make it one piece I see. C'mon in. [ He shut the door behind him as he continued.] Flight okay?

Comments

[abrightboy]

[He looked at Raylan brightly.]

I've never lived in the countryside. My mother used to take us to the Hamptons. I don't think that counts. And I worked a few cases in rural jurisdictions with the FBI, but I didn't have time to, you know. Take it in.

[tinstar]

[That made him chuckle.]

It most certainly does not. And I don't count what you got to see last time you were here as enough time to take anything in or to enjoy the fact that there's not another living soul for near a half mile around the house. The only good thing about the place, in my opinion.

[Despite him living in cities like Miami and Lexington, he had to admit he liked the raw space of his family home.]

[abrightboy]

[Malcolm smiled.]

I'm always excited about new experiences. What do you do there when you're by yourself?

[tinstar]

I try to be as little as possible, but there's almost always something to do. Idle hands are the Devil's tool after all. When I was younger, I'd go out and raise hell, but now.. [Raylan shrugged one shoulder.]

Putter around. Work on things here and there, and drink. Not much else to do. Though I can't say it does much for my head, but that's why I've got an end goal. Something to aim myself towards.

[He was a stewing kind of man and when there was a seed in his caw, no amount of labour or business could stop that stew from simmering. Selling the house was a short goalpost, and easier to keep his eye on than anything else in his life.]

[abrightboy]

[Malcolm looked over at him, like he was studying his face in profile.]

What kind of hell did you raise?

[tinstar]

[Raylan's lips crawled into a slow grin.]

Oh, the standard kind around here. Stealing old shitty cars for joy rides, drinking too much, getting into petty pointless fist fights with the Crowders. Letting loose livestock, setting things on fire that have no business being on fire and dropping things down our mines. And before you say it, yes, we're all aware now how big of assholes we were.

[He did not imagine Malcolm got up to the same kind of shenanigans when he was a teenager. Unless there was a lot of backwoods make out sessions at Harvard. Did Harvard even have woods? He'd have to look that up sometime.]

[abrightboy]

[Malcolm considered that.]

You couldn't really get in trouble for that when it was your dad's profession, could you?

[Malcolm had quite consciously and carefully been A Good Boy. His 'rebellion' was to make it hard for people to suggest he was his father's son. They had anyway.]

[tinstar]

[Raylan clicked out of the side of his mouth with a bob of his head.]

Didn't mean he wasn't still pissed about it. Mainly when I messed something up for him and his criminal enterprise. That livestock? He stole from a neighbour and was working on rebranding them so he could sell them instead.

Besides. Arlo stopped being able to catch me at 12 and there's plenty of running room.

[abrightboy]

In some cases, disappointing one's father is a good thing.

[Something occurred to him and he turned suddenly towards Raylan.]

Do you have a fire pit? Can we make a fire?

[tinstar]

[Then Raylan had done a damned fine job of that one.

The question, and the sudden enthusiasm made him glance over, lips curling.]

We can make one. If you can promise to not try to jump it or something.

[Somehow, the time flew by and sooner rather than later, Raylan was pulling onto the long driveway that led up to his childhood home.]

There she is, [he said as he put the town car into park] same as ever. Forty plus years and nothing ever changes out here.

[There was something of a heavy sigh as he stepped out of the car and popped the trunk, adjusting his hat as he went.]

[abrightboy]

[As they got out of the car, Malcolm took a deep breath of the air.]

Is jumping over fires something that people do? [Yes, an hour later, he's asking a question.]

[tinstar]

[Raylan chuckled.]

Oh the lessons you would have learned, growing up here. Too much beer and not enough to do leads to some stupid stupid ideas. Hell, that hasn't changed. They just traded beer for Oxy, weed, whiskey and guns.

[Pulling his bag and a couple of the grocery bags out of the trunk, Raylan left it open as he shifted his keys around for the house key, walking up to the door as he did so.]

Only thing we got here is guns and whiskey.. [ He glanced over his shoulder at Malcolm with a pull of his smile. ] And a little bit of fire.

[abrightboy]

[Malcolm grabbed some groceries and trotted after him, hurrying to keep up with the taller man's long strides.]

I used to be a decent shot.

[tinstar]

That saying you'd like to brush off that rust?

[ Door open, Raylan walked in and to the right, towards the dining room to set down his things, brushing open the bags to start unloading it.]

We can make that happen, ya know.

[abrightboy]

I wouldn't mind seeing where I'm at against a sharp shooter.

[He set his bags down too.]

[tinstar]

[There was something in Raylan's eyes as he smirked over the table at Malcolm, a dark heat of innuendo underlying his everything.]

Again, you mean?

[He let it linger for a second before grinning crookedly as he collected an armful of cans.]

I'll empty a few beer bottles tonight that we can use.

[abrightboy]

[Malcolm huffed a laugh, almost blushing.]

After beer and shooting, 'again' is... probable.

[tinstar]

[Raylan smirked from under the look and the edge of his hat before he turned to start unloading into the cans into the cabinet.]

You can go ahead and pick the bedroom you want to sleep in. The tools are just outside - I'll grab 'em in a minute.

[abrightboy]

Am I picking a bedroom that I want to sleep in or one that looks convenient for both of us to sleep in?

[Would that be bad? Could someone walk in and catch Raylan in a compromising position? The question was posed in as neutral a tone as possible; either answer worked, he just needed parameters.]

[tinstar]

[His hands stilled for a moment, can half put away before he continued, answering in an equally neutral tone.]

If you want the company. [Raylan turned around, eyes finding Malcolm with a play of a smile on the edges of his lips before he busied his hands collecting the bags.] No one's comin' in here to judge.

[While he didn't normally sleep upstairs.. he wouldn't say no to sleeping with Malcolm again, and that would require a bed. No way both of them would fit on the couch comfortable.]

And if they do, they're going to find a terrible time.

[abrightboy]

[Malcolm ducked his head with a smile.]

I would like the company. [A confession before he looks up at Raylan again.] Is there any room you definitely don't want to sleep in?

[tinstar]

[Malcolm's confession pulled a pleased little smile from Raylan as he stuffed the bags away.]

Helen and Arlo's room. You'll know it by the wallpaper and lack of bed [Old flower print that was likely not even in production anymore and nicotine residue on the wall that made it look like it was fifty years older than it likely was.]

But there are two other proper sized ones up there that have somethin' better than a twin. Take your pick.

[abrightboy]

[He nodded and headed up the stairs, his step a little springier. Having discovered what it was like to be warm during Raylan's visit to New York, he'd missed being warm. And he hadn't been sure that would be on the table now, a couple months later and in a different place.

He ended up choosing the same room he'd tried to use the last time he was there, before he bolted in the night and Raylan had to put him on his back to stop him falling down the stairs.

He set his bag down next to the dresser and perched on the edge of the bed, waiting for Raylan to bring the tools to bolt his restraints in.]

[tinstar]

[Raylan watched Malcolm bounce up the stairs as he himself made his way back out the front door to get the last of the bags from the car, shut the trunk, and grab his toolbox sitting outside the front door before making his way upstairs.

It didn't take detective work to find Malcolm and Raylan found himself smiling again at the straight and proper way Malcolm was perched there.]

This is the one, huh?

[abrightboy]

[Malcolm smiled almost self-consciously.]

I remember it being quite comfortable. ...Until I woke up on the floor in the hall under a body.

[His expression, though still slightly self-conscious, turned a little cheeky too.] Though that wasn't entirely uncomfortable either.