Malcolm Bright (
abrightboy) wrote2020-06-05 11:29 am
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Entry tags:
No One's Born Broken
For
tinstar.
Gil came and went. Dani came and went. Ainsley came and then left with their mother, who refused to even hear him out about telling the truth. He stared through the window at the motionless man in the bed for some indeterminate amount of time, his hand clutching his phone in his pocket.
Finally he let his eyes leave the figure through the window and he took his phone out of his pocket. He stared at that for a long moment, then scrolled through his contacts until one name rolled onto the screen: Raylan Givens.
He looked through the window, then looked at the name. Then he pressed it.
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Gil came and went. Dani came and went. Ainsley came and then left with their mother, who refused to even hear him out about telling the truth. He stared through the window at the motionless man in the bed for some indeterminate amount of time, his hand clutching his phone in his pocket.
Finally he let his eyes leave the figure through the window and he took his phone out of his pocket. He stared at that for a long moment, then scrolled through his contacts until one name rolled onto the screen: Raylan Givens.
He looked through the window, then looked at the name. Then he pressed it.
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Malcolm's hand slid up his neck as he met the kiss with equal passion, the fingertips of his other hand coming to rest at Raylan's ribs at first, then his hand flattened out to splay there, then his grip tightened.
He grinned, breathless, as the kiss broke. "Is the moratorium on talking over? Because I need to tell you there's lube in the drawer," he explained, tilting his head towards it, "just like I promised."
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Whatever Raylan had to wrestle with himself, he'd do in daylight like always, after the fact.
"Huh?" he asked with a little pinch of his brow before realizing what Malcolm meant and breaking with smile. "Oh, yeah, I suppose it is."
Pulling back and turning on his hip to sit, he tugged the drawer open and got out the new bottle that Malcolm had put in there with a grin as he looked over. "What if I said I wanted you to try out your restraints for something other than night terrors?"
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He picked up one of the cuffs and held it up. "Do you want to strap me in or....?"
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"You're on the wrong side though," he said, turning a finger round and round. "Roll over."
He shifted too, one knee on the bed as he strapped one wrist in before he crawled over to Malcolm's left side to do the same there.
"Up on your knees," he continued, voice taking on a slight edge of a commanding tone, but with a familiar husk to his voice. "I want that ass in the air."
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He got his knees under him, as directed, pulling the restraints taut for leverage. He could feel his heart beating in a combination of anticipation and excitement.
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The lube bottle popped open with its own sense of drama in the otherwise quiet room and was swiftly followed by Raylan slapping Malcolm's left cheek. It was a test - how it felt doing it, how Malcolm felt about it, whether or not this was just some twisted fantasy of his that should stay as such.
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"Parta me wants to light your ass up, make it red and full of my handprints before I fuck you mindless." Instead, he was pushing his slick, firm tip into Malcolm with a tight groan.
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"God, you're gonna turn me into a dirty pervert, talkin' like that. And here I am tryin' to be respectable," he breathed, gripping Malcolm's hip.
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It was surprisingly accurate, the words that slipped out. Raylan was a confident guy but part of him worried that New York and all it's beautiful, different faces, coupled with the longer periods of time away from each other, Raylan wanted to press himself into Malcolm's memory however and as much as he could.
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"You're your only competition," he panted.
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Pulling out all of a sudden, Raylan swatted him again a few times, pausing between each one to build up a fraction of suspense before he swung and as soon as he had, he was repositioning himself and sinking back into Malcolm furiously as the heat started coiling along his spine.
"And you need the use."
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"Fuck, Malcolm," he warned before his head rolled back and climax racked his body, tensing it tight against him as he unloaded with a strangled gasp of a breath that slipped into a groan as it was let from his lungs. His body moved for a few seconds afterwards, but quickly slowed to a stop as Raylan dropped forward on his hands, head hung as he worked to catch his breath.
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"The bed's holding up so far," he panted.
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"Good purchase. Should definitely come with us to Florida."
After another second, Raylan rolled over onto his side and uncuffed the closest hand. "You okay?"
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"I'm not sure there's a word for how great I feel right now," he said, still a little breathless. He used his newly freed hand to free his other hand, then shifted to lie down with his head in the crook of Raylan's shoulder. "But I am definitely at least okay."
He tilted his head to look up at Raylan. "You? That wasn't... too weird or anything?"
He meant the first part. Raylan didn't seem entirely sure of his comfort at the start.
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The question was a valid one and Raylan knew it was coming, but the answer wasn't as readily available as he would have liked, and his brow pinched a little. "I don't know. How bad was it?"
It didn't really matter how well he'd done; that wasn't the issue.
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"...What? No. It was great; that's not what I meant." He let his eyes wander Raylan's face for a moment. "You still don't want to talk about it?" he guessed. "That's okay," he added quickly, reaching up to brush his thumb along Raylan's jaw. "Just... don't go thinking that it wasn't good. It was great."
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"Findin' the right words are hard. I don't want you thinkin' it has anythin' because of you." And because he was a little worried about it getting thrown back at him. "I'm workin' through it. It wasn't terrible," he admitted. "And I quite liked the way you moved."
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We can shift from here or next tag after?
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IS HE PAINTING IN HIS SUIT??
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