abrightboy | No One's Born Broken

Malcolm let himself be gathered quite happily, resting his cheek on Raylan's shoulder, tracing a pattern across his chest with one hand.

His fingers liked to be doing something.

He nodded his answer to the question, which Raylan probably felt more than saw.

"One cup. Before yoga." He angled his head up to look at Raylan's face. "Are you going to mention my involvement in your report about yesterday's arrest?"

He liked Malcolm's fingers doings. It was comforting in his own way; made him feel a bit like an art piece, something to be explored by Malcolm's senses, to both their benefit. It also helped encourage his own brush of his thumb up and down against Malcolm's side.

Raylan looked down as he felt Malcolm's head angle up and smiled. "Course I am. Can't let you escape credit for helping the US Marhsal's Service. Plus the locals have already got you there." Inconsistencies were not looked on kindly in their line of work. "But if they ask me why you came down, I'm sending 'em to you, all I know is that you are apparently, on vacation."

"Still think you'll manage to get around Lexington well enough without me? We've got uber but yellow cab still runs out here."

He smiled. "I am on vacation," he confirmed. "I think I'll be all right. I'll try not to get beat up or anything," he promised. He looked up again. "I'll text you if I find something good." He paused as something occurred to him. "...Is that okay or will that make it worse? Should I just wait until you call me?"

"I think you mean to add 'again' to that," Raylan teased softly, bringing the hand up from Malcolm's waist to gently finger the bruises on his cheekbone. After pulling Malcolm's head in so he could press a kiss to his forehead, Raylan hummed behind a nod. "Texting me is fine. They won't even know it's you. Got you in my phone as Whit Mal."

But he kinda hated it. Malcolm were neither of those abrupt shortenings and he hated this half hiding thing he felt he had to do.

"All Undercover like." Which wasn't really the truth. If Raylan was really concerned, he'd put in Harlan Power Co.

Malcolm laughed lightly as Raylan kissed her forehead. "One headbutt does not count as getting beat up," he protested in good humour. At the revelation about Raylan's phone, he took that in good fun as well, cocking an eyebrow at Raylan. "Undercover texting. Salacious. I told you every day is an adventure here."

Malcolm pushed himself up onto his toes to bring a kiss to Raylan's mouth. "I'm going to get dressed," he said, before dropping back down onto the flat of his feet and padding back into the bedroom. He didn't bother shutting the door as he riffled through his bag. "There's more coffee in the pot if you want another cup," he called as he pulled a deep green suit out of his bag, along with a white shirt and royal purple tie. "I'm pretty sure that it's more passable than the coffee in your office," he teased.

"It sorta does," he argued playfully. He was relieved that Malcolm didn't seem to be agonizing over everything as much as he was and met the kiss with a soft little back of the throat sound, hand reluctant to leave him as he padded away and Raylan turned to lean on the counter and watch him move about.

Glancing over at the pot, Raylan refilled his cup before ambling towards the bedroom himself. Frankly, he wanted to watch Malcolm get dressed for once and his own clothes weren't time consuming at all. He could dress and still enjoy his coffee.

"Black tar would be more passable then what the US Marshal's serves. I think it's an intimidation tactic. If nothing's good, no one will wanna get dragged in." Setting his cup on the dressed, Raylan found and pulled his jeans on before hunting around for his undershirt.

"But I like yours better," he said with a look over as he pulled on said undershirt.

"Once we get the apartment, we can experiment with different beans and different roasts," he told Raylan as he pulled his pants on. He picked up his shirt and shrugged it on, starting to button it. "Until we find your favourite," he said, looking up from his buttons with a grin.

It faltered as he remembered something, and he looked down to watch his fingers slide the buttons into their slots.

"Um, I should tell you that Tim knows my birth name," he confessed. "I think he might have pulled my FBI file the first time I came here. He knows who I am." He looked at Raylan. "I might need a different undercover name in your phone."

"Do you experiment or is the one in New York your solid favorite?" Malcolm didn't seem to have a lot of solid favorites, Jello and soup preference aside so Raylan wasn't sure on his philosophy on the idea in whole.

Coffee fell aside at the mention of what Tim knew and Raylan pulled on his over shirt as he looked over with a sigh. "Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Tim is no slouch when it comes to diggin' around. Maybe I'll just change it to Harlan Power Company since you bring in so much light." The last came with a little smart assed smile as he started working up his buttons.

Malcolm just looked at him for a moment. He wasn't sure what reaction he was expecting to that news, but a very sweet little quip wasn't it. He'd just picked up his tie and he dropped it back onto the bed to step closer and press a lingering kiss to Raylan's mouth, wrapping his arms around him, looking up at him.

"When I got the french press, that one was recommended to me, but when we have our own place, we have to find our own blend," he explained. "So it always tastes distinctly like home."

Raylan took Malcolm's sudden movement with a lift of his smile as he met the kiss, hands slipping around his waist to greedily keep him there for a few seconds longer than necessary.

"Tastes like home, huh?" His smile spread a little more as he leaned down to steal another lingering kiss from Malcolm. "They make a coffee that tastes like you?"

Malcolm laughed brightly, one hand sliding up his chest to wrap around his lapel.

"Probably not," he acknowledged, "but I might taste like it after a cup...." He smiled. "We can get you a really big travel mug so you can bring it to work. Instead of drinking tar."

He hummed a chuckle. "I'll have to bring enough for the whole class and I don't want to share the taste of home with them. I'll just have to get up early enough to enjoy it at home before I go in."

The comment reminded him of the time and he checked his watch, stealing another kiss before he slipped away to find his own tie and get it put on.

"Speakin' of, we should get a move on if we wanna hit the bar before I'm late."

"Right!", Malcolm replied, turning up his collar and grabbing his tie, tying it deftly before turning his collar back down and grabbing his jacket and shoes.

As they headed out to the car, Malcolm smoothed down the front of his jacket. "Do I look okay?"

For the task. Obviously an expensive suit looked 'okay' at the very least, in general.

Looking up from the edge of the bed where he sat perched as he pulled his boots on, Raylan looked him up and down before giving him an amused look.

"You always look okay." Even on his 'lowrent' days, Malcolm managed to look like a million dollars and far fancier than anyone in Lexington, despite their attempts. Gathering his badge, gun and hat, Raylan slipped on his own suit jacket and nodded again.

"Ready?"

--

It only took them 15 minutes to get to the bar, a two level building that was taller than it was wide, textured walls sun-yellowed and bearing a giant neon sign that read 'BAR'. The door, at least, was a larger oak one, giving the building a sense of stature, despite it's signage.

"It's no Hilton, but it worked," he commented as they pulled up.

"You weren't exactly staying at the Hilton before," Malcolm allowed, but he still eyed the building warily. It was a bar called 'BAR'. "But I guess if it were, it wouldn't have clients that consistently needed kept in line."

It wasn't hard to read Malcolm's face. Raylan smirked. "Wanna see the inside?"

He huffed a laugh. "Of course I do," he answered. Raylan's life was of great interest to him.

Though he did let Raylan lead the way.

Raylan held the door open behind him long enough for Malcolm to catch it's weight and led them into a very standard looking kind of bar. One pool table, but many small tabletops and a good looking bar itself. Behind it was an older man, mid 50's, who greeted Raylan with a little lift of his head and a smile.

"Hey Marshal. Late night or early mornin?"

Raylan chuckled. "Little bit of both. Just stopped by to grab something." The bartender nodded and watched Raylan and his guest move around to the far side of the bar and up the stairs that were tucked just inside it. The door wasn't locked and Raylan led him into a small hallway that let out in a singular bedroom and adjacent bath.

Digging into the dresser that was painfully bare besides a few lone t-shirts that looked sad enough as is, Raylan pulled out a small stack of papers and handed them to Malcolm. "It's only about twelve or so, but I didn't wanna get to crazy and these things change all the time so."

He grinned as he took them from Raylan's hand.

"That's plenty." He leafed through them. "They look promising."

He tucked them into his jacket and glanced around the room.

"You didn't find this a little depressing?" he asked with a gesture around.

He smiled, pleased that Malcolm was pleased with what he'd gotten together. But the following question had his smile fading back to the easy one he normally wore with a noncommittal shrug of one shoulder as he looked around.

"It's clean and waterproof. This was never gonna be a permanent place, but it worked well for it's function." Whether or not he found it depressing was another story. Depressing compared to what? "Better than sleepin' in my car, I suppose."

The remark about sleeping in his car drew Malcolm's eyes from their surroundings to Raylan's face. Was that something that could have happened? He couldn't tell from what he saw there.

"Maybe I just don't like the idea of you being somewhere... that doesn't care about you."

The room had no relationship with Raylan. Anyone could have crashed there. It was a void.

Raylan was too prideful to fall that low, but this was all of one rung above it. He pulled his smile a little, hoping to convince Malcolm that it really was fine before he continued.

"That's the point of those apartment papers, you're already on top of that problem." He nodded softly. "C'mon. There's really nothing else here. You want me to drop you off somewhere or do you wanna start from the courthouse?"

"....Is it okay if I get out at the courthouse with you?" he asked. Someone might see them parting ways. Not that he was planning on getting demonstrative, but. It was morning. After they were seen together the previous day.

"Yes," Raylan assured without hesitation before he stepped forwards, hands sliding around Malcolm's waist. "And speakin' of.." He kissed Malcolm one more time, one more time before they went back out into a world and a day about. One more time because, the way things tended to go, he didn't want to miss any chance to openly love Malcolm, since they felt rare when they weren't settled in for the night.

"To hold me over til tonight," he muttered softly as it broke.

Malcolm smiled softly. "I think...." He leaned up and pressed another kiss to Raylan's mouth, "that you should really stock up," he murmured, then kissed him one more time. "In case the day is longer than you want. Or just feels that way."

He reached up and let his fingertips travel down Raylan's jaw. "And don't forget that I love you," he added, nodding encouragement.

If it all did go horribly wrong, he'd still have what little Malcolm had to offer. No matter what.

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