Malcolm Bright

It did to Raylan. What business did he have doing that? What world was he in where he had? He couldn't answer either of those questions and as stupid as it was, he didn't move beyond sliding his hands down Malcolm's arms.

"No," he replied with a bit of husky roughness in his voice. "Not regret. Just whiskey. And impolite assumptions," he tried to assure, mind still circling around how the kiss felt. "I've never kissed a guy before," he admitted between them. It felt better saying it there, like that, then some hardline stance that he was already wavering on in the street that would sound sharper and worse.