Malcolm wasn't accustomed to being described as 'strong'. It was implied by Gil sometimes. With most people, the gist was 'clever but mentally frail'.

He watched Raylan's face for a moment, then got up, abandoning about a finger of bourbon and half a bowl of soup to walk around the table and straddle Raylan's lap, sliding his arms around the Marshal's neck and pressing a lingering kiss to his mouth before burying his face in the crook of his neck.

"Here's another choice of mine," he murmured into Raylan's skin.