abrightboy | No One's Born Broken

Malcolm huffed a breath of quiet delight, biting his lip as he handed the clean and diapered baby to her father, rather than taking the onesie from him.

"We were using the shampoo, so I was telling her where the word 'shampoo' comes from," he admitted. "Did you get enough to eat?" he asked.

Raylan groaned theatrically for Willa's benefit as he took her from Malcolm and stood back up, tossing the onesie over his shoulder. "You remember it all?" he asked the baby with a playful not!pinch of her arm's fat roll.

"Cleared out my whole plate and the rest of your beans," he said, attention on the baby who's hand was literally and figuratively wrapped around his finger. "Cleaned up and set up your playpen too so we can get you off to the sandman, little lady."

Not wanting to lay Willa down on the floor, he headed towards the living room so he could settle on the couch and get her little limbs into her onesie.

"Pour me a scotch please? I think with a little quiet and a little dark, I can get her to relax and lay down without complaint."

Malcolm went into the kitchen and poured two fingers into each of two tumblers, bringing them around the breakfast bar, setting them on the counter. Then he went to a cupboard under the television and got out the box containing the video baby monitor.

"I'll set this up on the playpen," he told Raylan as he took it out of the box at the counter. "So you can see her from the bedroom, like we talked about."

Raylan nodded as he shifted, putting Willa on his chest as he slipped down a little into the couch and started patting her back rhymically.

"We'll use this a test. You can sit in the bedroom and tell me how good the sound and video quality is. Maybe ten minutes?" He was looking forward to getting into the bedroom with Malcolm and the scotch and nothing to do but hold him.

Malcolm nodded. Once the transmitter was set up at the playpen, he tucked the receiver under his arm and picked up both glasses of scotch, handing one to Raylan as he passed, then taking his own and going into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

He set the monitor up on Raylan's side of the bed, then changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, hanging his clothes neatly in the closet. Between leaving before Raylan got up that morning and then Winona being with him when he came home, it felt like they'd barely touched that day. Maybe that contributed to them crossing their wires at dinner. Touch was a big part of their connection.

Malcolm checked his restraints while he waited and flipped through the pages of a book he was reading on truth-default theory as he perched on the edge of the bed.

Raylan murmured a soft 'Thank you' and stole a sip as Malcolm slipped away. It was only once the door shut that he realized some of the lights were still on and he'd probably have better luck if they weren't. It took him a minute to figure out how to get up, but he did and returned to his spot once the lights were off.

He didn't know if the monitor would pick up his soft conversation with Willa as he patted her back. He was gonna teach her how to shoot one day. Turn her into a sharpshooter like her father. But no boys. Or he'd find a nunnary somewhere.

At some point, the words stopped and Raylan realized that she must be asleep. Carefully, Raylan shifted up to his feet and laid Willa down, keeping himself bent over to pat her chest softly for a minute more to ensure she was off to dreamland. More carefully than he'd ever moved in his life, Raylan backed away, grabbed his scotch glass and the bottle from the counter before heading into the bedroom.

He sighed as the door shut behind him. "Here's hopin' she'll stay down for the night. How's it workin'?"

Malcolm set his book down, looking up at him.

"I think she's going to be the first expert sharpshooter nun in America. It's a whole new direction for the church," he teased softly, getting up to meet him. He took the bottle out of his hand and set it on the table in the corner, then slid his arms around Raylan's neck, letting his eyes close as his cheek came to rest against the taller man's jaw so he could just breathe him in for a moment.

It had been a long and busy day.

He scoffed a chuckle, eyes warm as he watched Malcolm set the bottle down and he stole a sip from his glass before setting it on the the nearest surface. He needed both hands free, sliding them around and across Malcolm's back as he was collected in return. Raylan sighed softly as he rested the weight of his head against Malcolm's and enjoyed the solid reality of them being together for a long moment.

"I'm sorry about today.. It was supposed to be.. smoother. Happier."

Malcolm smiled against his face.

"We're in our place. Our place." He lifted his head and looked at Raylan. "I'm happy," he said plainly. "There's always going to be... stuff, but... we're here. I'm happy."

Raylan hummed a note as Malcolm lifted his head, watching the subtle lifts and valleys of his very expressive face. He could see the happy on Malcolm's face and was glad for it, but he still felt like it could have been happier. Ideal. He wanted to achieve the ideal with Malcolm, as often as he could.

"I hope so." He hoped that didn't change with the rising mount of bullshit they were hurdling towards. "I want you to have a place where you can have that without family bullshit. Next time you're down, it'll be better." He'd figure out how to handle all this, to mitigate contact until everyone was calm and friendly again. It was as good as a promise.

"And we've still got tonight and tomorrow, right?" he asked, lips curling as he bent in to kiss him. He wasn't going to let Winona ruin this. He couldn't.

Family bullshit meant there was family. It could be worse. At least Winona didn't walk in without knocking.

He leaned eagerly into the kiss, one hand sliding to grasp the back of Raylan's neck, the other landing on his shoulder.

"At least," he answered, a little breathless as the kiss broke. He glanced around and looked up at Raylan. "Do you really like it? I didn't want it to look like it's my place that you have keys to, like New York. I wanted you to feel at home here. Because it's yours. Is there anything you want that I missed?" Because he'd get it.

The fact that he could leave Malcolm a little breathless with just a kiss was inspiring to say the least, and left Raylan with a soft cant on his face as Malcolm looked back up at him.

"Ours. And no, you didn't miss anything. Just a lot of you in my space here, that's all I want. I really do like it," he promised. "Do you?"

Because that was just as important - they didn't want to create a place like Malcolm's New York apartment here. Raylan wanted the blend of them. It was good.

"I love it," he said. "I love having somewhere to be with you down here..." He pressed a kiss to his mouth. "I love you." He looked around again. "It feels like the start of a real life together."

Raylan hummed softly, lips following the kiss for a half second as it broke and he smiled at Malcolm's last words. "It is. A good home base for us while we're in Kentucky."

He was still looking forwards to Miami, but this gave them some kind of comfortable respite in the in between times. It was something to keep them afloat and fractionally less desperate for each other. Taking the opportunity, Raylan kissed Malcolm again, a little less chaste than their last few kisses. "I love you too," he said earnestly, as the kiss broke.

No matter what Winona said, there was no way she was shaking Raylan's confidence in this. In the way they both felt about each other. This wasn't a phase or a crisis - Raylan wanted to be with Malcolm the same way he'd wanted to be with Winona in the past. Two old souls on a porch with each other, looking over a garden or something with kids running around.

Winona clearly hadn't really wanted that. He couldn't believe that Malcolm didn't.

Raylan was the first person who made Malcolm feel like that kind of scene could be possible for him. That he could grow old with someone and they'd stand beside each other for the rest of their lives. He wanted it more than he'd ever suspected he would.

I love you too. Malcolm could feel his pulse increase when Raylan looked at him like that. Every time Raylan looked at him like that since the first time.

He glanced at the brand new bed, then looked up at Raylan, his hands sliding down his chest to his waistband to pull his shirts out of his pants, pushing them both up at once to reach smooth skin in their wake.

"How are you feeling about trying that out?" he said once the shirts had come over Raylan's head, tilting his own head towards the bed as he tossed the shirts aside. "Our bed," he clarified with a wide smile. "If we really like it, maybe we'll bring it to Florida."

There was no missing the shift of Malcolm's eyes or the change in tilt of electricity between them and Raylan shifted as needed to get the shirts off with a crooked grin at the question and 'Our bed', his own hands pushing Malcolm's t-shirt off as he answered.

"Very positive towards the idea," he replied as he hooked his fingers into Malcolm's waist band, pulling him forward once the elastic was stretched to its limit, not that he thought Malcolm would hesitate long enough to make that happen. "We'll bring it to Florida and if we don't like it, we'll look into a custom bed that we like better," Raylan continued as Malcolm slipped back into his arms, allowing his hands to push Malcolm's sweatpants off his hips.

"But let's not judge it before it can prove it's worth." Raylan couldn't stop himself from kissing Malcolm again, hands hungry to just get on the naked swath of the smaller man, over his sides and hips.

Malcolm was eager to be under those hands, kicking the sweatpants aside as they traveled over him. He slid his own hands around Raylan's ribs and down his stomach, tugging his belt open by feel as he met the kiss hungrily, his fingers playing lightly against the skin beneath the waistband as he worked the button on the jeans.

"God," he gasped between kisses. "I feel like I haven't kissed you properly in a week." Though the previous night had been full of proper kisses, it seemed far away. Once he could push Raylan's jeans and boxers down over his hips, his slid his hands back up his sides and around and up his chest. He grasped his neck and jaw just below his ear with one hand and his shoulder with the other, closing the small amount of room he'd needed to work his pants off by pressing against him as he kissed him again.

Raylan groaned shortly at the words before his lips were properly occupied again, tightly holding them together as he turned Malcolm's back towards the bed. Breaking the kiss with a hum, Raylan tilted his face down for a half second before meeting Malcolm's eyes.

"I've been thinkin' about something," he admitted as he pushed Malcolm back onto the bed only to follow with his own weight, body propped up on his elbow, hair falling into his face. "So I just need you to.. shut up and let me do it, okay?" he asked, hazel eyes darting between blue.

Malcolm's experience with Raylan in bed so far had been overwhelmingly positive. He'd shown nothing but care in handling him, no matter how ardent his need. There was no guardedness in Malcolm's expression and no hesitation putting himself in Raylan's hands.

"Okay," he agreed, meeting his gaze with trust and openness, even while he remained a little breathless.

He found himself a little breathless too, for entirely different reasons and kissed Malcolm with a fierceness, body sliding up against his before he broke the kiss and sent his lips down Malcolm's jaw with no shame about the amount of teeth slipped into his kisses.

Jaw led to collarbone, led to chest as Raylan worked his way down Malcolm, kissing and running his palms down his sides in time until he was moving down his yoga tightened stomach. There was no doubting that Malcolm's sharp mind would pick up what was going on, but Raylan didn't let that stop his want or resolve as his lips moved across the cut of Malcolm's hips towards the soft hairs.

After 'don't bring my attention to what I'm doing' and then the direction things took, Malcolm had a feeling where it was going and that was one step farther than the last time Raylan took this journey.

If they'd have talked about it, Malcolm might have suggested that he stopped above the waistband last time because he was only comfortable with the conventionally male roles in the bedroom and that that was okay.

And it really was.

But watching him make his way down there was also alluring as hell and Malcolm's breath hitched slightly as Raylan's teeth grazed his pelvis. He hoped that didn't count as not shutting up; he was trying to be good but damn. Raylan had probably felt him twitch against him more than once already.

It was good, sweet, that Malcolm was okay with it but Raylan burned under his own internal hypocrisy and the conflict it came into with his preferences in the bedroom. He liked doing this, making his partners feel good with all parts of him. The idea of his mouth haunting them while he had casual conversations with him got him going.

He wanted to be okay with this and every twitch of Malcolm's length against his ever more personal skin moved him more towards his resolve and the reward of taking yet another leap off a cliff with Malcolm. Looking up, Raylan ran his tongue up Malcolm's length, unwilling to shy away from it, before he too Malcolm's cock into his mouth, pushing it against the back of his throat and setting to a rhythm that he was used to - that he liked.

He'd see how well that was received.

Malcolm was transfixed by the sight of Raylan moving down his body, but when his tongue traveled Malcolm's length, he couldn't help a strangled little sound from the back of his throat, followed by a gasp at the hot moisture that took it in.

The rhythm Raylan set was perfect and Malcolm was careful not to thrust into it, reaching down to grasp a handful of Raylan's hair, giving it a gentle squeeze as he moaned through a wave of arousal that made him squirm a little.

He was the only one that would ever get to see or feel Raylan on his knees, and any quibbles of worry were washed away by Malcolm's sounds and the gently fisted hand in his hair. It bothered him less now that he was doing it; the overly dramatic buildup in his head hadn't come true - no sky split, no Arlo coming out of the closet to beat him.

Just an amazingly good man who made Raylan feel impossibly happy.It let him relax a little more, movements becoming smoother as his head slowly bobbed, tongue twisting around Malcolm's tip as he withdrew and then sunk his head again.

Malcolm was innately aware that this whole situation was a privilege. For a brief moment, as Raylan descended his body, he'd been concerned he was doing it out of a sense of some sort of obligation, but it didn't feel like that and he relaxed into it, too, as much as someone coiled in a building, tightly wound pleasure could relax.

The only other time someone had done this to him, it felt... quick and dirty. This was a very different experience, like going to bed with Raylan generally was. Sex was a different ritual with someone who loved you than when it was just fulfilling a physical need.

His sounds got needier. More urgent. He was drawing near climax. He wasn't completely sure how that was going to go over, but hoped it didn't put him off in a passing thought that quickly left his mind as he gasped Raylan's name.

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HE'S.. GONNA LOVE THE WAY SHE SAYS 'W'

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I need a shirtless raylan icon, clearly

it would be a public service

<.< >.> I cant disagree

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