What he got was a pleased curl of Malcolm's mouth at the notion. One of life's small mercies - or fairly large mercies, even - was that, with all the abuse he'd taken, he'd never been sexually abused. It was possibly one of the areas of life least like a minefield.

The notion that Raylan got dirty ideas about him was arousing as hell. Not only because he was so breathtakingly hot - he was - but because he hadn't been completely sure of his comfort level in even being with a man when they started this. For him to be comfortable enough to start growling dirty somethings in Malcolm's ear was a solid cinderblock in their foundation.

Malcolm shifted his weight to create some friction for Raylan, feeling him already hard against him and making sure that slid against his thigh when he moved.

"I'll make sure that apartment gets the big bottle of lube," he promised, lowering his head to nip and kiss along Raylan's jaw and then his throat.