When the katydos had gone, Raylan had fallen hard back into reality, brain running nonstop for the next few days and hiding in the business of it all. But that still left him sleepless nights and long hours sitting in one of the chairs of his bedroom, mind turning over everything that happened here. During the flood, before it. The broken promise he'd made to himself, so easily cast away under the lack of inhabitations, the freedom from the consequences of it all.
Part of him wished they were back there. Easier, to not be responsible. Easier to ignore how much of a piece of shit he is. He had tried to dry out a little, having taken full stock of exactly how far he was backsliding and spent a lot of his time in the shower, stuck between trying to remember the ins and outs of breathing and not thinking at the same time and trying not to think about the debauchery he'd taken part so happily in.
And then he cleaned, like doing so would remove the stain of problematic that he was without his normal reservations.
Today he was cleaning his guns - a therapeutic chore that always helped him calm down the chaotic storm in his chest - when Neal knocked. He grabs up a kitchen cloth, dedicated to gun oil, and starts wiping his hands off as he comes to the door. Asking who it was felt.. weak, so Raylan opens the door without preamble, but as soon as he saw it was Neal, he stilled. His mind flashed through everything all over again, the tie, the roped wristcuffs, the sharp crack of switchwood, the way they sounded-
"Neal." There's no hiding the surprise behind the delay of saying anything. "You're-" Here. Looking good for a dead guy. Going to hate me.
"Uh-" Get on track Givens. He scratches his forehead with his thumbnail as he continued. "Savin' me a trip. You-" Are you okay? He realizes his lacking manners and steps back, opening the door wider and inviting him in with a gesture.
Neal steps inside, not sure if he's glad or upset that Raylan seems easily as unnerved as he is. Definitely not sure how he feels about the fact that just hearing that soft drawl makes his heart beat a little faster.
The cabin is spotless, and Neal feels like that's probably a bad sign in a good package.
As soon as the door is closed--not locked, Neal notices, and he can't hardly blame Raylan--he takes a deep breath. "Are you--how are you--are you doing okay? I know a lot of people aren't... dealing with the flood well. Now that it's over."
He was overly self conscious as he closes the door. Neal knows what his impulse is about it but leaving it unlocked is more of leaving that Choice; something he thought was more important now then ever. Choice, with their full faculties. But he knows it's awkward to linger in the 'foyer' of doors and leads Neal into the kitchen and the island counter where he's working.
"The advice I've been given before suggests that I should be fine regardless of how I am, so that's kind of the path I'm stickin' too right now. You're the one that's had so much goin' on, Malcolm, this meetin' that's been called about Lestat for later. I've just been.."
He gestures at the cabin as he steps back into his previous spot and drops the stained kitchen cloth on the counter as he looks over where he was at. "Tidyin' up. Least disruptive thing I can do right now."
Neal is grateful that Raylan doesn't bring up the fact that he died again. He wonders if it's instinct or if it's a new understanding after... well. All that.
He touches the lock on the door before following Raylan obediently into the kitchen. Neal watches Raylan with wide blue eyes, naked of apprehension, absolutely trusting.
"You don't have to be fine. You don't have to pretend to be." Not with him, in here, anyway. "I wanted to make sure you didn't... regret it. Because... I don't."
He's scared of what Norton might say, even though he knows Norton himself isn't exclusive. But he doesn't regret that part of the flood at all.
Of everything they had to possibly talk about, Neal dying wasn't high on the list. That was a dark spot that Raylan wanted to leave alone until after the meeting. Until after he saw how it was all going to play out. He didn't want to move the needle and throw anything here.
Neal says he doesn't regret it and Raylan's eyes slide up to meet his, studying his face and what was written on it. Had he really earned that trust though? It felt stolen, somehow. The silence stretches. Finally, he breaks it.
"I-.. I don't regret it, no. We are two consentin' adults who-.. Who had some fun." Who absolutely fucked each other like they couldn't breath if it wasn't their all. If it wasn't the rawness of it that they both needed. "I know you've got Norton and I'm-"
He was such a goddamned mess.
"I don't wanna fuck up whatever it is you're buildin' for yourself here. You deserve to have it. To keep it... So if you want.." He trails off, eyes steady on Neal's face. If Neal wants to pretend it never happened, keep it secret, keep it Theirs, Raylan would go along. It was the least he could do.
Raylan cuts himself off. Implies that they can write it all off and leave it be. Neal’s stomach turns over, and for a moment he’s afraid that Raylan does regret it, no matter what else he’s saying.
He steps into Raylan’s space, pausing there to make sure Raylan is okay with the slight invasion. If he is, Neal will kiss him, brief and sweet and chaste compared to where they were a week ago.
“I don’t want to pretend it never happened.” Soft, solid, sure. Raylan might not think he earned the trust in Neal’s eyes, but Neal thinks he’s more than earned it. They were both compromised, and Raylan still cared enough to make Neal feel safe.
He wasn't harsh enough or stupid enough to push Neal away, face softening the closer that the New Yorker got. His stomach twists in delight, in self loathing at the delight, of their closeness and lets Neal kiss him, lips following it for a half second when it breaks. Raylan's eyes crack open, dancing across Neal's earnest features again.
He didn't want to pretend it never happened. That made things much more complicated, no matter how Raylan's shoulders sag a little in relief. One hand snakes around Neal's waist, settling lightly on him.
"What do you want, in that case." It was asked softly, just as earnest as everything else right now. "Because I can't-.. can't offer more than more fun." If Neal knew what he meant. Raylan was too heartbroken, too angry, too fucked up for anything with Romantic feelings, but it would be a lie to say he didn't find his own sweet release in everything they did. In having someone he could hand all of himself over to for a night. Someone he could trust to not abuse all those newly shown raw edges.
The arm around his waist feels so good, and Neal realizes with slight surprise that he has absolutely no impulse to plan an escape route from contact. There’s no anxiety or expectation of the need.
“The fun is good.” Neal brushes his thumb over Raylan’s lower lip, then lets his hand drop to Raylan’s waist. He studies the other man’s face for a moment. “Amis-amants, no?”
Friends who have fun.
Neal hesitates, but only because he’s not used to saying this kind of thing to the people he feels it toward. “I’ve never… I’ve never felt so relaxed in my life, the way I did when we were enjoying ourselves. I’ve never felt so safe with anyone, anywhere. I know Norton has other partners. I don’t see why he’d mind if I had one too.”
Would that be good enough? Would that be weaponized against both of them later? Raylan didn't know. Neal didn't regret it now, but what about when it was all out there. Secrets were hard to keep here and Raylan knows he'll be judged by other people for daring to be sleeping with people, or even talking about it, so soon after James's leaving.
His head tilts a little to press a kiss against that passing touch, eyes staying locked on Neal's as he did so.
"That's good, you feelin' safe. It took a lotta trust to let me do what I did. I never want anyone feelin' unsafe in my hands. I like makin' you feel safe.. " His eyes move over Neal's face again. He had already done so much to try and make Neal feel safe. Who knew making the man come undone like that, being so willing to turn over the reigns the following night, would make him feel the safest.
"I need you to know that I slept with Laura too, durin' the flood. I don't know where she and I stand. I-.." He takes and lets a breath out of his nose. "Amis amants?"
The word was echoed like Raylan was checking it's validity, even though he pronounced it poorly and likely to the great offense of the French.
Neal smiles when Raylan shares his other activities, touched and clearly without judgement. He brushes his fingertips against Raylan's temple.
"I'm not pretending I have any kind of claim to you. You can do what you want with who you want." He frames Raylan's face with his hands and gives him a little kiss. "I just want to be one of the ones you're doing things with. I want to get to visit that place, whenever you're willing to share it. And I want you to know that... you're safe with me too."
His eyes sparkle with a touch of mischief. "I might still yell at you on occasion, just to make sure you've got something to work out on me in bed."
The smile turns into a little grin. "And I still owe you twenty-four hours of total obedience. Useable in increments, I think that's only fair."
Raylan's everything was spinning a little bit. So much more than he would have given was out on the table now - Neal had access to parts of him that no one else did or could besides James. Had him over a barrel socially. It was so Dangerous to trust in the proverbial post-sex morning light.
But as Neal continues, grants Raylan the permission to not deal with heartstring entanglements, grabs his face and kisses him so softly, he found himself sinking back into those brilliant blues. He wanted to trust. He was going to try and trust.
His lips curl at the edges, arm around Neal getting tighter as it's joined by it's mate, and Raylan turns them so that Neal is between his legs and he is leaned back against the counter-top.
"I imagine we'll still have disagreements. Watch out or I might start lookin' forward to them a little bit." His smile slowly crept out to a grin in kind as Neal continues.
"Oh angel, I already got some ideas." There as no hesitation in the way Raylan bent to kiss him, taking a firmer press to it without it being full of Ready Heat like before. It was languid and exploratory, kissing Neal for the sake and joy of it. When it broke, it broke with a roll of their foreheads together and Raylan's eyes staying closed.
"You're a very dangerous man, Neal Caffery, you know that?"
The tightening of the arm around Neal’s waist gives him a pleasant little tingle, but the way Raylan forces him around and kisses him without urgency are the things that make Neal sigh with memory and relief.
“Next time I’m making sure you lose the coin toss.” If they do that again. Neal has to wonder what it would be like without the katydos. It’s hot.
Dangerous, Raylan calls him, and Neal’s smile this time is soft. “That might be the first time anyone’s ever given me that particular compliment.”
"Your luck is runnin' against mine," he teases. Raylan's luck was inarguably better, though there were a lot of arguments that could be had around it in the first place. It was the best kind of challenging banter and katydos or not, he loved those.
Raylan opens his eyes and pulls a faint smile.
"It's true. Out here bein' all intoxicatin' and Good and shit.." The smile falters a little. "What do you think Malcolm is gonna think of it all? How much should we prepare ourselves for."
Neal would know how much Raylan cared about Malcolm, and it wasn't like Raylan thought they were going to go screaming anything from any rooftops but it was hard to hid shit from people like Malcolm, who Saw So Much. Even if Neal kept quiet, Raylan was sure these things had a way of coming out.
Neal makes an ironic little sound that isn't quite a laugh. His tone is absolutely fond. "He'll probably be relieved I'm not pining, and say something about how seeking physical comfort is a perfectly valid way to express loss or release tension when things are stressful."
He smudges his thumb over Raylan's lower lip. "I can tell him. If he doesn't Sherlock it out himself before I have the opportunity."
"It's only fair he knows. This is one of those surprises that no one likes to hear about after the fact." But Raylan is visibly calmed by the touch, some of the worry creases fading from his forehead.
"Speakin' of, you're aware that Norton blew me before we fell into bed together, right? I don't want that bein' any surprise either. 'Course, I'm pretty sure Norton thinks about blowjobs like handshakes so I don't know that it matters much but-" Just in case it did.
AKA nothing to worry about or report because it's just a blowjob. Raylan would agree too, if his relationships hadn't already been so contentious.
"Not that I'm aware of. Which is good; anyone we can spare from that list." He studies Neal's face with a soft downturn of his lips.
"How are things. With Lestat. You still seein' him? Socially or otherwise. And you can tell me to fuck off if it's none of my business, but I am slightly invested after.. everythin'."
Neal winces. He studies Raylan's shirt, unable to meet the man's eyes. "I don't... I don't condone any of it. I don't think any of it was right. We're friends, not physically involved, but I don't think what he did to you or anyone else was..."
A deep breath, and he forces himself to look at Raylan's face. "What I'm trying to say is, whatever you want to say in the meeting, whatever you need to say, I think you have every right to say it."
Raylan slides his fingers under Neal's chin as the man finishes, thumb brushing over the crown of his chin and the bottom outer edge of Neal's bottom lip.
"No one thinks you're okay with him hurtin' people, and bein' friends with people is nuanced."
His hand slides down to settle on the side of Neal's neck.
"And thank you for that permission darlin' but I'll be speaking up where I feel a need to regardless of it. This is business that could get real ugly if it's not handled well. Calmly. Comin' from where I do, I know a thing or two about mobs of people that are afraid of differences. We're too small a community to let that kind of insanity stand."
It's odd, the comfort Neal takes from Raylan's fingers under his chin. The way he stays gentle, his voice even and soft. It's never been something Neal's looked for. Protection from someone else. It's a pleasant surprise, those moments he feels safe. The man's hand on his neck is soothing, too.
Neal relaxes, nods, comfortable with silence on his own part. Raylan's addressed his personal concerns, and somehow managed to do it without stitching fresh guilt into his heart.
Neal exhales softly, shifting forward to nest his face against Raylan's neck, wrapping his arms around the other man. The private physicality is a relief. Comfort given and offered. "You're a good man, Givens."
His arms wrap around Neal in return and he leans his head against Neal's, chuckling softly at the comment. Turning his head, he presses a kiss into Neal's hair.
"Don't go tellin' anyone now, you'll ruin my smudged reputation. I'm alright, at best. But everything is gonna go just fine. And if things are fine between us, then you've got another place to run to if you need it." He kisses into Neal's hair again.
"I'm glad you came to see me. I would have worried otherwise."
Neal closes his eyes with a small smile, basking in the simple affection. "Wouldn't dream of it, but you're more than alright, Marshal. Worried about what?"
"Mm, worried that maybe we crossed a line you weren't thinkin' about at the time. What we did, Neal.. I mean, that was some delightful debauchery. Worried you'd regret lettin' me in behind all those walls of yours. Worried that you'd kick me out of them."
It wasn't just the sex; it was the trust, the comfort, the security. The freedom of it and the perfect way they'd managed to fit with one another. The nightmares and the heartache and the tangle of limbs. Raylan's everything craved it. Easy. Uncomplicated. Not awkward. Where he felt he could just be without having to hoist everything up onto his shoulders to protect himself.
Maybe this would all bite him in the ass. He knew that was a possibility. But he didn't regret it because right now, it was everything of a balm that his heart needed.
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Part of him wished they were back there. Easier, to not be responsible. Easier to ignore how much of a piece of shit he is. He had tried to dry out a little, having taken full stock of exactly how far he was backsliding and spent a lot of his time in the shower, stuck between trying to remember the ins and outs of breathing and not thinking at the same time and trying not to think about the debauchery he'd taken part so happily in.
And then he cleaned, like doing so would remove the stain of problematic that he was without his normal reservations.
Today he was cleaning his guns - a therapeutic chore that always helped him calm down the chaotic storm in his chest - when Neal knocked. He grabs up a kitchen cloth, dedicated to gun oil, and starts wiping his hands off as he comes to the door. Asking who it was felt.. weak, so Raylan opens the door without preamble, but as soon as he saw it was Neal, he stilled. His mind flashed through everything all over again, the tie, the roped wristcuffs, the sharp crack of switchwood, the way they sounded-
"Neal." There's no hiding the surprise behind the delay of saying anything. "You're-" Here. Looking good for a dead guy. Going to hate me.
"Uh-" Get on track Givens. He scratches his forehead with his thumbnail as he continued. "Savin' me a trip. You-" Are you okay? He realizes his lacking manners and steps back, opening the door wider and inviting him in with a gesture.
"C'mon in."
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The cabin is spotless, and Neal feels like that's probably a bad sign in a good package.
As soon as the door is closed--not locked, Neal notices, and he can't hardly blame Raylan--he takes a deep breath. "Are you--how are you--are you doing okay? I know a lot of people aren't... dealing with the flood well. Now that it's over."
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"The advice I've been given before suggests that I should be fine regardless of how I am, so that's kind of the path I'm stickin' too right now. You're the one that's had so much goin' on, Malcolm, this meetin' that's been called about Lestat for later. I've just been.."
He gestures at the cabin as he steps back into his previous spot and drops the stained kitchen cloth on the counter as he looks over where he was at. "Tidyin' up. Least disruptive thing I can do right now."
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He touches the lock on the door before following Raylan obediently into the kitchen. Neal watches Raylan with wide blue eyes, naked of apprehension, absolutely trusting.
"You don't have to be fine. You don't have to pretend to be." Not with him, in here, anyway. "I wanted to make sure you didn't... regret it. Because... I don't."
He's scared of what Norton might say, even though he knows Norton himself isn't exclusive. But he doesn't regret that part of the flood at all.
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Neal says he doesn't regret it and Raylan's eyes slide up to meet his, studying his face and what was written on it. Had he really earned that trust though? It felt stolen, somehow. The silence stretches. Finally, he breaks it.
"I-.. I don't regret it, no. We are two consentin' adults who-.. Who had some fun." Who absolutely fucked each other like they couldn't breath if it wasn't their all. If it wasn't the rawness of it that they both needed. "I know you've got Norton and I'm-"
He was such a goddamned mess.
"I don't wanna fuck up whatever it is you're buildin' for yourself here. You deserve to have it. To keep it... So if you want.." He trails off, eyes steady on Neal's face. If Neal wants to pretend it never happened, keep it secret, keep it Theirs, Raylan would go along. It was the least he could do.
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Raylan cuts himself off. Implies that they can write it all off and leave it be. Neal’s stomach turns over, and for a moment he’s afraid that Raylan does regret it, no matter what else he’s saying.
He steps into Raylan’s space, pausing there to make sure Raylan is okay with the slight invasion. If he is, Neal will kiss him, brief and sweet and chaste compared to where they were a week ago.
“I don’t want to pretend it never happened.” Soft, solid, sure. Raylan might not think he earned the trust in Neal’s eyes, but Neal thinks he’s more than earned it. They were both compromised, and Raylan still cared enough to make Neal feel safe.
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He didn't want to pretend it never happened. That made things much more complicated, no matter how Raylan's shoulders sag a little in relief. One hand snakes around Neal's waist, settling lightly on him.
"What do you want, in that case." It was asked softly, just as earnest as everything else right now. "Because I can't-.. can't offer more than more fun." If Neal knew what he meant. Raylan was too heartbroken, too angry, too fucked up for anything with Romantic feelings, but it would be a lie to say he didn't find his own sweet release in everything they did. In having someone he could hand all of himself over to for a night. Someone he could trust to not abuse all those newly shown raw edges.
He hoped, anyway.
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“The fun is good.” Neal brushes his thumb over Raylan’s lower lip, then lets his hand drop to Raylan’s waist. He studies the other man’s face for a moment. “Amis-amants, no?”
Friends who have fun.
Neal hesitates, but only because he’s not used to saying this kind of thing to the people he feels it toward. “I’ve never… I’ve never felt so relaxed in my life, the way I did when we were enjoying ourselves. I’ve never felt so safe with anyone, anywhere. I know Norton has other partners. I don’t see why he’d mind if I had one too.”
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His head tilts a little to press a kiss against that passing touch, eyes staying locked on Neal's as he did so.
"That's good, you feelin' safe. It took a lotta trust to let me do what I did. I never want anyone feelin' unsafe in my hands. I like makin' you feel safe.. " His eyes move over Neal's face again. He had already done so much to try and make Neal feel safe. Who knew making the man come undone like that, being so willing to turn over the reigns the following night, would make him feel the safest.
"I need you to know that I slept with Laura too, durin' the flood. I don't know where she and I stand. I-.." He takes and lets a breath out of his nose. "Amis amants?"
The word was echoed like Raylan was checking it's validity, even though he pronounced it poorly and likely to the great offense of the French.
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"I'm not pretending I have any kind of claim to you. You can do what you want with who you want." He frames Raylan's face with his hands and gives him a little kiss. "I just want to be one of the ones you're doing things with. I want to get to visit that place, whenever you're willing to share it. And I want you to know that... you're safe with me too."
His eyes sparkle with a touch of mischief. "I might still yell at you on occasion, just to make sure you've got something to work out on me in bed."
The smile turns into a little grin. "And I still owe you twenty-four hours of total obedience. Useable in increments, I think that's only fair."
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But as Neal continues, grants Raylan the permission to not deal with heartstring entanglements, grabs his face and kisses him so softly, he found himself sinking back into those brilliant blues. He wanted to trust. He was going to try and trust.
His lips curl at the edges, arm around Neal getting tighter as it's joined by it's mate, and Raylan turns them so that Neal is between his legs and he is leaned back against the counter-top.
"I imagine we'll still have disagreements. Watch out or I might start lookin' forward to them a little bit." His smile slowly crept out to a grin in kind as Neal continues.
"Oh angel, I already got some ideas." There as no hesitation in the way Raylan bent to kiss him, taking a firmer press to it without it being full of Ready Heat like before. It was languid and exploratory, kissing Neal for the sake and joy of it. When it broke, it broke with a roll of their foreheads together and Raylan's eyes staying closed.
"You're a very dangerous man, Neal Caffery, you know that?"
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“Next time I’m making sure you lose the coin toss.” If they do that again. Neal has to wonder what it would be like without the katydos. It’s hot.
Dangerous, Raylan calls him, and Neal’s smile this time is soft. “That might be the first time anyone’s ever given me that particular compliment.”
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Raylan opens his eyes and pulls a faint smile.
"It's true. Out here bein' all intoxicatin' and Good and shit.." The smile falters a little. "What do you think Malcolm is gonna think of it all? How much should we prepare ourselves for."
Neal would know how much Raylan cared about Malcolm, and it wasn't like Raylan thought they were going to go screaming anything from any rooftops but it was hard to hid shit from people like Malcolm, who Saw So Much. Even if Neal kept quiet, Raylan was sure these things had a way of coming out.
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He smudges his thumb over Raylan's lower lip. "I can tell him. If he doesn't Sherlock it out himself before I have the opportunity."
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"Speakin' of, you're aware that Norton blew me before we fell into bed together, right? I don't want that bein' any surprise either. 'Course, I'm pretty sure Norton thinks about blowjobs like handshakes so I don't know that it matters much but-" Just in case it did.
AKA nothing to worry about or report because it's just a blowjob. Raylan would agree too, if his relationships hadn't already been so contentious.
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He has yet to hear of someone Norton’s been with that he doesn’t see the appeal in.
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He smiles softly.
"Less sweet topic - he comin' with you to this meetin' about Lestat?"
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That's an upsetting thought.
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"How are things. With Lestat. You still seein' him? Socially or otherwise. And you can tell me to fuck off if it's none of my business, but I am slightly invested after.. everythin'."
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A deep breath, and he forces himself to look at Raylan's face. "What I'm trying to say is, whatever you want to say in the meeting, whatever you need to say, I think you have every right to say it."
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"No one thinks you're okay with him hurtin' people, and bein' friends with people is nuanced."
His hand slides down to settle on the side of Neal's neck.
"And thank you for that permission darlin' but I'll be speaking up where I feel a need to regardless of it. This is business that could get real ugly if it's not handled well. Calmly. Comin' from where I do, I know a thing or two about mobs of people that are afraid of differences. We're too small a community to let that kind of insanity stand."
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Neal relaxes, nods, comfortable with silence on his own part. Raylan's addressed his personal concerns, and somehow managed to do it without stitching fresh guilt into his heart.
Neal exhales softly, shifting forward to nest his face against Raylan's neck, wrapping his arms around the other man. The private physicality is a relief. Comfort given and offered. "You're a good man, Givens."
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"Don't go tellin' anyone now, you'll ruin my smudged reputation. I'm alright, at best. But everything is gonna go just fine. And if things are fine between us, then you've got another place to run to if you need it." He kisses into Neal's hair again.
"I'm glad you came to see me. I would have worried otherwise."
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It wasn't just the sex; it was the trust, the comfort, the security. The freedom of it and the perfect way they'd managed to fit with one another. The nightmares and the heartache and the tangle of limbs. Raylan's everything craved it. Easy. Uncomplicated. Not awkward. Where he felt he could just be without having to hoist everything up onto his shoulders to protect himself.
Maybe this would all bite him in the ass. He knew that was a possibility. But he didn't regret it because right now, it was everything of a balm that his heart needed.
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