James softly hums out a sleepy sound to indicate that he doesn't think Raylan's described a southern night to him before. With his eyes closed, even with his brain heavy and hazy with a headache, he's able to listen intently to the soothing sound of Raylan's voice and paint the perfect picture in his head. He gives another low hum at the gentle hand through his hair, tilting his head ever-so-slightly into it, like a cat wanting to be pet. Slowly but surely it lulls him into a light comfortable trance.
The more James relaxed and drifted off, the heavier he got, helping guide Raylan in the soft telling of honeysuckle on the breeze. His fingers kept their steady stroke through James's hair as he continued on about the smell of cold on the air in the winters or the way that it all came alive and vibrant under the rain.
When he was sure James was well under, he stopped talking, hand moving only to drag the cover over both of them and laying over James's extended arm and shoulder. He'd give James as many hours as he could manage before begrudgingly working his way oh so slowly out from under his husband, so he could tuck James in the rest of the way. Raylan had to piss like a race horse and after emptying his bladder and getting some whiskey to refill it, he came back into the bedroom with a chair and sat by the 'windows' to watch the pirate sleep.
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When he was sure James was well under, he stopped talking, hand moving only to drag the cover over both of them and laying over James's extended arm and shoulder. He'd give James as many hours as he could manage before begrudgingly working his way oh so slowly out from under his husband, so he could tuck James in the rest of the way. Raylan had to piss like a race horse and after emptying his bladder and getting some whiskey to refill it, he came back into the bedroom with a chair and sat by the 'windows' to watch the pirate sleep.