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

I hope that's soon.

[Raylan definitely got ahead in nakedness. Malcolm blamed how distracting that was for his falling behind. But his jeans and underwear soon joined his shirt on the floor and he slipped into the shower, letting the stream wet down his hair. Both hands smoothed its mass back and he looked up at Raylan.] Pass me the shampoo; I'll wash your hair.

[Sue him for still wanting to touch it.]

I'll find a reason. Even if I give Art what he's always dreamed - me taking a vacation voluntarily. [Which Art would side-eye but much like Malcolm, left in the natural vicinity of work, would work.

Still, being ahead of Malcolm had its own perks. Malcolm stepping under the stream and pushing his hair back looked like- Well, a shampoo model. Raylan couldn't help the pull of his smile and it cracked into a grin at the question.]

You wanna wash my hair? [He was too amused by the idea to argue and plucked a bottle of shampoo to flip in his hand and hand over.] Be careful, I work very hard to get it this way. [Complete bullshit and a total tease but perfect for the two of them right now.]

[He smiled broadly, though with a hint of a blush. Yes he did want that.] I'll be careful. [He took the bottle and squeezed some out into his palm before setting it on a nearby ledge so he could step close and thread both hands up into Raylan's hair, working the shampoo over his scalp, very aware of his face right there as he did it.] Close your eyes. In case it drips.

[As Malcolm stepped closer, Raylan slid his hands over and around his waist, hazel eyes smirking with him while Malcolm starts scrubbing his head.]

And miss out on the view? [Alright fine. He took a few smart ass seconds before closing his eyes.] Feels good though. The last time someone washed my hair, I was a kid.

[Malcolm's grin at his remark about the view softened to a fond smile when he closed his eyes.]

The last time someone held me in my sleep before you came to New York was never. This counts as an adventure, right?

[Raylan cracked an eye open a fraction to see him.]

Never? [His hands tightened on Malcolm's hips, only not pulling him closer for the sake of the suds and the tilt of their bodies when they were together.] Yeah. It counts.

Hope you're ready to get used to it while you're here, [he continued, eye closing again.] stock up for when you leave again.

[He breathed a laugh that was eighty percent the relief of weight leaving his shoulders. He made a confession.]

I would love that. I haven't stopped thinking about it.

[He pressed a soft kiss to Raylan's mouth.] Rinse. [Murmured as he stepped him back under the spray, not pulling away from him at all. His hands slid back into his hair to work the soap out of it.]

[Good. Raylan smiled as he was kissed and let himself be moved, head lifting up and back a little to help the suds all go the right way. Once he felt the slickness run out, he straightened and looked down at Malcolm for a half second before leaning down to kiss him, arms tightening around him to pull them together.]

I haven't stopped thinking about it either. [he admitted as the kiss broke. Malcolm Bright had devilishly taken up a spot in the back of the Marshal's brain and very often the card in his wallet seemed to generate its own heat, like it was laden with the memories of everything they did and felt that night. Pulling back a fraction, Raylan smiled softly at him.] Condition me, and then it's your turn. Don't think you're getting outta here without the same treatment.

[The kiss, being pulled tighter against him brought visible delight to Malcolm's face.] I wasn't getting you to close your eyes so I could escape. [Said through a laugh. He was still smiling when he spoke next.] Pass me the conditioner.

[Once he had it in his hand, he squeezed some out and set it aside and threaded the liquid up into Raylan's hair, smoothing it through his hair carefully.]

Okay. Let it soak in. [He let his arms wrap around Raylan's neck while they waited a moment.]

Maybe I'm worried you will. [Like he would blink too long and realize that this was some fever dream or something. Still, Raylan's embrace loosened enough for him to reach the conditioner and put it into Malcolm's hands, grabbing the shampoo himself to spurt some into his hand behind Malcolm's back. Once the bottle was set down, Raylan very carefully started to run it through Malcolm's hair.]

I'm stocking up too.

[I'm stocking up too. Malcolm's heart fluttered a little at that. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back slightly so it was easier for Raylan to work his fingers through his hair. Better to lean his head back than move his whole body back when it was warm and comfy where it was.]

Do you think we'll always have a limited time? Little windows for this, then back to normal?

['Normal': loneliness and working all hours of the day and night to avoid it. Really, really connecting with someone was amazing. He hadn't been expecting it. What if he came home after work and he had it all the time?

He couldn't think like that. They were both in the middle of quests they weren't prepared to give up at different ends of the country.]

For now, maybe. [A beat passed and there was the faintest pause in his fingers before he continued.]

You could always join me in Miami. There's work down there. I'll be getting a house, sooner or later..

It's more than a couple months away but..

[It was an option. Raylan's hands slipped down Malcolm's back, turning them carefully in the constraints of the tub they stood in.] Lean back, [he murmured.]

[He let Raylan guide him, leaning back as instructed.

You could join me. JOIN HIM.]

I've never been to Miami. It sounds nice. ...I arrested someone in Orlando once. I had to chase him through Universal Studios. ...The weather was lovely.

[Stop blathering, Malcolm.]

Later is fine. I have some things to finish up in New York.

[Raylan worked the suds out methodically.]

The weather is nice almost all the time. Hurricanes aside.

[His hands slipped back down around Malcolm's waist. That sounded an awful lot like agreement.]

We've both got things to finish up. Obligations. [Which left plenty of room for minds to change. He didn't exactly want that - that room to doubt again, but life was what it was. He grabbed the conditioner, introducing a few inches of space between them.] And plenty of time in this window.

This is our longest window yet.

[A thoughtful beat as Raylan's hands slipped back into his hair.]

I've never seen a hurricane for real. What's it like? Do you have to leave town? We could go to New York during hurricane season. Split our time.

Totally by accident too. [With the conditioner spread out, Raylan took to just holding Malcolm while they waited.]

The wind and intensity of it is scary. It can demolish things real quick if its a big one. [He wasn't too manly to avoid admitting when something scared him.] Everyone has to board up their windows, put up sandbags, fill up on supplies..

I don't normally leave town but I haven't been through any big ones. Marshal's service might let me bounce back and forth.

[It felt silly and scary and amazing to even be having a conversation like this with Malcolm, but he wasn't going to stop. Even if plans fell through, it was nice to have them, for a little bit.]

[Malcolm was worried it would be too much too fast, but once he started asking questions, they just tumbled out of him. And Raylan hadn't even flinched.]

Time to rinse you off.

[But a quick kiss first, before he stepped Raylan back into the spray.]

[Raylan was a romantic at heart and he wanted that whole life. Company. Love. Happiness. His problem was that he could never hold onto it. There was no telling if he could here but he was going to try.

At least he was sure Malcolm wasn't going to steal all his money and leave him alone.

His hands tightened around Malcolm for a half second before he stepped back, one hand coming up to help move the slick conditioner out of his hair.]

Soap, then you, then chicken.

[ Plans, they had them, and moved through them easily, paused only by their own need to kiss one another and never really coming apart for more than a few seconds before one was touching the other.] Leave your shirt off after you dry. Let that thing on your shoulder get some fresh air before we cover it back up.

[As for Raylan, he was happy enough to wrap his towel around his waist, tucking the corners in to secure it.]

[After toweling off, Malcolm padded to the bedroom naked and dug a pair of sweatpants out of his bag, pulling them on.]

So.... the chicken has been soaking in saltwater, right? ...Why is that?

[Curiously, as he got into his pants.]

[God that was a good site. Raylan stared the whole way as he followed Malcolm into the bedroom, easily noting the lack of underwear as he undid his towel and finished drying off.]

Seasoned saltwater, yeah. Makes the chicken more tender and juicy. Gives it more flavor, though I suppose if you've never tasted the difference, you might not know. But all good fried chicken is brined. I'm sure you've had it.

[He might not care for New York but it did have good food and he didn't have to taste it to verify the gush of love for New York food that he'd heard. Pulling on a clean pair of jeans, Raylan snagged a black t-shirt out of his bag and pulled it on.]

Do.. .you ever cook? Even if it's heating your own soup. [He wasn't judging or making fun - he was genuinely not sure. Malcolm could.. easily go either way. He'd judge how ready Malcolm was before heading back out of the bedroom and towards the downstairs.]

[Malcolm grabbed a t-shirt but didn't put it on, letting the wound air as instructed, following Raylan down.]

I cook a little bit. Recipes are easy enough to follow. But I've only cooked food I can eat, so... light meals....or soup. I never have had fried chicken. [He smiled a little self-consciously.] People rave about it, though. ['People rave about it': the source of the majority of his food recommendations when asked. His knowledge of things he couldn't eat that everyone seemed to love. He was mildly concerned about how heavy it was going to be, but he was reasonably sure Raylan wouldn't take it personally if he couldn't do it and had to switch to something lighter. He really wanted to try it.

He also didn't want to be underfoot while Raylan was working in the kitchen, but he wanted to see what he was doing. He took up a perch in a chair at the table, pulling up his legs to sit cross-legged.] So what do you do first?

I don't want assume you season it but.. [By the glance Raylan gave him over his shoulder, he sure hoped Malcolm did.]

Never? [Raylan shook his head, lips curling slightly.] Well, we're changing that tonight. I know you've got issue with heavy type food too but Helen's chicken never felt heavy to me. Might just be the oil we use, or the fact there's no eggs and double dredging.

[Bending to fish and pull a dutch oven from the cabinets, Raylan set it on the stove and found the jug of oil, lifting it up to look at it's color.] We heat the oil, season some flour in a bowl, dredge it and fry it. You're only going to be eating chicken and cooked flour. The clean up seems to bother most people but I don't mind it.

[Double-dredging sounded heavy on its own. Malcolm looked on with great interest, leaning forward to see better.]

What do you season the flour with?

Premixed seasoning salt, [he admitted a little sheepishly.] I don't actually know what's in it. The curse of brand marketing. [ He pulled down the bottle, padding over to hand it out to Malcolm before going about pulling two clean glasses down from the cabinet. They had that bottle of scotch to nurse and with dusk crawling up over the hills, Raylan figured it was about time for it.]

You can read it off to me so next time I'm asked, I'll know.

[Padding back, Raylan set Malcolm's glass down, taking a draft of his own and getting out the bowl and drying rack he'd need for afterwards. No chicken sitting in it's own fry drippings to worsen his chances.]

[Malcolm took the bottle, but his eyes continued to follow Raylan as he moved around the space, until he returned with the glass. He took a sip of scotch and then turned his attention to the bottle.]

Salt, pepper, paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, and cayenne pepper.

[He looked up, his gaze finding Raylan again.] Sounds good.

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