He wanted to know. The problem was Raylan was, to be frank, bad at that kind of strict definition. He was human, there was the urge to be blatantly honest but doing it wasn't natural and he'd already bent himself fairly far.

Raylan's lips parted at the fisting of his shirt and his struggle at answering the question culminated in a sound from the back of his throat as he sank in, stealing Malcolm's lips up in a kiss that did not hesitate in dipping into deepness the longer it held. What was he? Needy, hungry, frustrated, devoted and loyal and too stupid to get it all out at once.

It didn't even register that he was kissing a man who was restrained to his bed, couldn't stop him if he wanted to without violence and even if it did, now it wouldn't come with the same concern as it did before. The dynamic had changed somewhere. Malcolm had more power over Raylan than most people in his life, though that was largely due to the constraints of him not being able to flee.