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

[ He</> looked over at Malcolm, face faintly pinched in confusion.]

Petrichor? [Yeah sorry - no word of the day calendars for Raylan and the dust comment confused him further. What did dust have to do with rain or the weight of the air?]

The way dust smells when it rains.

[Matter of fact; no judgement.]

It's what makes rain smell nice. Especially out in the countryside.

Huh. Learn somethin' new every day. [He didn't mind. Learning was a good thing.]

Storms.. do something to the air out here. Supercharge it. You can feel the electricity, it lifts the hairs on the back of your neck and the wind.. steals the breath from your lungs, almost as fast as you can draw it in. Makes me feel small again. Like I got somethin' to fear more than getting shot. You got a fancy word for that?

[ Not asked with any condescension towards Malcolm's education - that's what the Whitly's had paid for, after all.]

No. [He looked at Raylan.] That's awe. I'd like to see it. Maybe there'll be a storm while I'm here.

We'll check the weather report, though sometimes even they don't catch the random spring storms.

[Raylan looked over at Malcolm, internally noting that their hands were still laced together and tucked into Malcolm's lap. Was this what their future 'normal' might look like?]

You've felt awe like that, right? Somewhere?

[He liked Raylan's hand intertwined with his hand. It felt right. Fragile, somehow, but also right.

He nodded.]

The first time I saw the ocean. It was a windy day. The waves were taller than I was.

[Raylan smiled.]

I like the ocean. [There was a reason he'd chosen Miami as his transfer.] Have you see both of them?

Yeah, but by the time I got to the Pacific, I was on the job and... it wasn't the same. Four of us were in Los Angeles hunting down a serial killer that targeted women by pretending to be a talent scount for Hollywood. Anyway, when we were done, they all wanted to go to that murder museum in LA 'for a laugh', they said. But... I didn't go with them. [He looked at Raylan.] They thought I was being weird but... that place has an exhibit about my father and... I didn't want to see it with them.

[Raylan winced, having seen L.A. It seemed like exactly the kind of town to foster that kind of ugliness. He squeezed Malcolm's hand gently.]

I don't blame you. It's pretty, for what that's worth. I liked it when I saw it. L.A. as well. Chasing down another thug for another gang that lives out of these international travel hubs. [Another reason that he liked Miami.]

Feel like the Atlantic is more.. intimidating, but maybe I'm biased. More souls over it, or something.

[He smiled.]

It bridges the Old World and the New World. Did you live on the water when you lived in Miami?

Basically. Though most anywhere in Miami is within thirty minutes of the water. Might be why I like it so much, if I'm honest. There's no water out here, [he complained with a gesture of his glass and a soft sigh.] Not like that.

[Draining his glass, Raylan breathed another heavy sigh breath.] How do ya feel about bed? If you can't go to sleep later, I can point you towards a wall to paint while I get the rest of my sleep.

[Raylan well accounted for Malcolm's night issues already; the pattern was pretty well set, as far as he knew.]

I'll keep myself occupied. [He got up, not letting go of that hand.] If I stick to my routine, I'll function better. [A beat passed.] Do you know where you want to live when we go to Miami?

["We made Raylan's stomach tighten with excitement, even at the idea.]

Not right outta the gate but if you want a list of places inside of a few days, I could come up with something.

[He followed Malcolm to his feet and inside, locking the door behind them for the hella it and depositing their scotch glasses somewhere convenient along the way upstairs. Raylan would clean it up in the morning.]

Haven't really thought that far ahead yet.

I was just curious how much you'd thought about going back. [He smiled as they started up the stairs.] I don't need a list; I can wait.

[He hesitated as they got to the top.]

Raylan... you're sure about this, right?

A lot but there sayings about putting eggs before the chickens that lay them..

[Coming up on the landing with him, Raylan furrowed his brow slightly.]

Sure about what? [Raylan had a sneaking suspicion that Malcolm was talking about Everything, about what he'd asked, about what they'd talked, about the apparent tentative plans they seemed to be making.]

About sleeping in there, with me. It's dangerous. It... remains dangerous.

[He was completely sold on the other stuff. Call him a dumb romantic, but his heart fluttered at the thought of coming home to Raylan every night. But it also made him extra concerned about his potential to accidentally kill him.]

Malcolm, [Raylan started, stepping close.] I am not scared of you. And I'm not scared of being hurt by you, and if that happens, I can promise you that it is not your fault.

[That blame fell with his father.]

And I think you're sleeping in there with me, possession being 9/10ths of the law and everything. [His bed and all but it was a tease.]

Let me brush my teeth and I'll be in.

[Malcolm was scared of Malcolm and he still looked uncertain, part of him geared up to protest, but he also really didn't want to protest; he wanted Raylan to hold him like he did in New York, so he nodded instead and went into the bedroom, pulling his shirt off and dropping it on top of his bag. Pants were a necessity, but he wanted to feel Raylan's quiet, steady warmth.

He got his restraints out and clipped them into the brackets, then climbed into bed, buckling himself into the cuffs. He laid back, letting himself sink into the pillows, some part of his mind arguing that he owed Raylan more disclosure, but...BUt. He wanted this. But that was selfish. But Raylan wasn't worried. But Raylan didn't know everything...]

[ Raylan nodded back, catching Malcolm to press a kiss to his head before heading into the bathroom. He didn't want to wake up with scotch on his breath on top of morning breath. A minute later and Raylan was padding into the bedroom, peeling off his own shirt to drape it over the end of the bed. His hands hesitated at the button of his jeans, but after a half second, he popped it and slipped them off.

He could sleep in his jeans, and had more than once, but it wasn't his choice when he was in bed.]

You okay? [Raylan slipped into bed, under the blankets and wondered if maybe he shouldn't have left his pants on.]

[Raylan didn't require pants; his body wasn't a flight risk. Malcolm immediately slid close to him when he got in bed, but he was definitely still chewing something over.]

I almost stabbed the last person I slept with. [Sudden confession.] Not like this; I've never... we fell asleep on the floor. Stupid. No restraints. She didn't know about my... problems. So I dreamed I walked into the kitchen and I really did sleepwalk into the kitchen, and when something attacked me, I grabbed a knife off the counter and started swinging and I woke up and she was there all... huddled against the couch and she was screaming at me to wake up... I could have killed her. Suffice to say she stopped taking my calls after she fled my apartment in terror.

[He wasn't sure he wanted to chase Malcolm anywhere in just his underwear. Raylan shifted onto his side, head propped up on his hand as his right hand came down to slide over and around Malcolm's waist.

He listened silently, watching Malcolm's face as he spoke. He could see the guilt there.]

Can't say I blame her - that's a scary thing to wake up to..

You're worried that's going to happen here. That you're going to break through your restraints and hurt me. [Right?] But I know your issues... And you deserve the.. warmth of sleeping with someone. [Most everyone did. It was a primal joy, in Raylan's mind.]

That's not going to happen here.

[People had told him the nice things he deserved when they were leaving him before. Nobody had every told him the nice things he deserved as a reason they were staying.

Nobody had ever stayed. That probably had something to do with it.

He watched Raylan's face carefully, but there was only the earnest truth in it. How had he been so fortunate that he even met this man?

He set his hand on Raylan's chest, the restraint clinking faintly as he moved his arm, his fingers fidgeting lightly along his skin.]

I just... wanted you to know what you were getting into. I don't want you to go.

[But he would have understood if he felt he had to.]

[Raylan had remembered that snippet of their conversation, and the way Malcolm's face looked. He couldn't give Malcolm what he'd deserved then, but he could now. Granted, Raylan wanted it, so maybe he was being a little selfish, but they deserved that too.

The soft play of fingers across his chest was more than welcome and Raylan leaned into it, dipping his face down to kiss Malcolm, right back into those pillows. His weight rolled with it, leaving Raylan half laying on Malcolm as he breathed the man in.]

I know what I'm getting into. [He promised with a soft husk in his voice.] It doesn't change anything. You're still worth it.

[As Raylan rolled into him, his hand slid up, his fingertips resting lightly at the base of Raylan's throat. When the kiss broke, he looked up at him, a little wide-eyed with relief and wonder.

You're still worth it.

He couldn't raise his hand much further, but he lifted his head to kiss him earnestly, his fingers curling gently against the side of his neck. When it broke that time, he looked like he wanted to say something, but there weren't any words in all of his Harvard education or extensive studies of human emotions and behaviour to express what he was feeling.]

[He didn't have to say anything. Raylan couldn't say anything, worried about what would fall out of his mouth too early, too soon, and invite things to sour somehow. So instead, he kissed Malcolm again with a little less intensity and attempts to beat away the dark clouds of thoughts with his presence and commanding attention alone.]

Tomorrow night, wait to slide into these.. Beds are for more than sleeping and screwing. [Not that they had yet anyway.] And I wanna hold you. Properly. Just for a little while.

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