Raylan shifted and took him easily, wrapping his arms around the smaller man and taking him in with a slow breath. God this felt good. Having Malcolm here, against him, close.

"I've.." Raylan swallowed thickly and turned his lips into Malcolm's hair, throat tightening as his eyes pricked with the tension and pressure of it all. "He's not coming. And I'm not going to ask him to. Not tonight. I'll be okay. Won't drink myself to total oblivion."

I think he almost left sat on the tip of Raylan's tongue but he couldn't bare to bring those words to air, lest they came true. Lest Tim change his mind. Lest Doc get a hold of the situation.

"Thank you," he whispered. "For bein' you. For giving a shit." Right now, it felt like Malcolm was the only one that really did give a shit. Gave a shit enough to show up. Gave a shit enough to support Raylan, even if it was just with company. Just with open worry.