"Yes Raylan, because the way you slant your hips and frame them with your fingers is oh so discreet," Tim said wryly but he handed over the unicorn sweater.
Shrugging on in to the red sweater, he reached down to settle the balls in place before reaching to tug at the collar of his shirt.
"I couldn't find any of those jingle hats or antler things that Art always makes us wear," he explained.
The same softly argumentative look Tim had gotten at the point towards Raylan's... well everything stayed for a long moment in the face of Tim's expression. Raylan finally sighed, shoulders settling a fraction in supplication to the inevitable.
"C'mon, you're not gonna drag me away from my king cake and bottles for.. holiday cheer are you? I'm shit at these things, I'd rather just stay here."
Consider all the cute being radiated in Raylan's direction
Tim pointedly looked around the pathetic cabin Raylan had imagined for himself. It was the pathetic motel room back in Lexington and Tim honestly wasn't sure why Raylan had reimagined it for himself. He had a few theories but he wasn't here to tap into that deep well of Arlo induced self-loathing.
He was here to pry Raylan out of his decrepit shell and drag him to the social scene, so he could shine like a glamorous oyster.
"Put the sweater on and let's get going before all the good cookies are gone."
Sighing, Raylan took off his hat and hung it on the hooks beside the door so he could pull the sweater over his head and tug it into place, giving it an unimpressed look that was shifted to Tim from under his eyebrows for his opinion as he pulled the door closed.
There was also a heavy hint of 'You're lucky I like you'.
"These better be the best damned cookies that ever were."
The younger marshal was as undaunted by the look as ever, and merely smirked as he stepped back to let Raylan out the door. Of course you like him Raylan, look how adorable he is in his lewd Christmas sweater!
"Overindulged cookies are always the best damned cookies," he pointed out as he fell into step beside Raylan and began to herd walk with him towards the Enclosure.
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Shrugging on in to the red sweater, he reached down to settle the balls in place before reaching to tug at the collar of his shirt.
"I couldn't find any of those jingle hats or antler things that Art always makes us wear," he explained.
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"To the Marshal's office holiday part-" And then it hit him. "That invitation." And his head bobbed to one side. "You're not suggestin'..."
That he go, much less in this.
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You're getting that same sort of pointed look. Yes, he is suggesting and if he is going, you are going.
Honestly, all Tim has to do is cutely hold his ground and Raylan will cave,
"C'mon, you're not gonna drag me away from my king cake and bottles for.. holiday cheer are you? I'm shit at these things, I'd rather just stay here."
Consider all the cute being radiated in Raylan's direction
He was here to pry Raylan out of his decrepit shell and drag him to the social scene, so he could shine like a glamorous oyster.
"Put the sweater on and let's get going before all the good cookies are gone."
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There was also a heavy hint of 'You're lucky I like you'.
"These better be the best damned cookies that ever were."
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"Overindulged cookies are always the best damned cookies," he pointed out as he fell into step beside Raylan and began to
herdwalk with him towards the Enclosure.