"Oh, I'm ready," he said, untangling from Raylan - stealing another kiss halfway through the process - to get up and go over to his bag, pulling out sweatpants and restraints, stepping into the former before working on untangling the latter as he padded back over to the bed.

Even if he wasn't tired, he was going to take the opportunity to curl up in Raylan's arms while he fell asleep. Out of all the things he missed when Raylan wasn't around - and he missed everything profoundly - he missed that the most. He couldn't remember ever feeling so safe and warm. He must have, a long time ago, before the arrest but he barely remembered. It was normal then, not something to note. Twenty years of waking up screaming and thrashing and always all alone... when that changed it was definitely something to note. It was something he hadn't even thought possible. The first time he and Raylan slept together, he'd told the Marshal it was impossible for him to sleep in Malcolm's bed. He had never been happier to be proven wrong through sheer stubbornness and will.

He hooked up a restraint on his side of the bed frame. The nice thing about nicer hotels was the furniture tended to be a little higher quality and he could get away with attaching his restraints to the frame of the bed itself. It was a little more comfortable that way. Then he moved around to Raylan's side and secured the other.