So long as no one else asked them about it. Those were clearly The Rules™.
Humming contentedly behind a pleased little smile like a cat caught in the cream at the fingers in his hair and the way being so close to Henry's chest deepened the sweet, husky drawl, he turned his face into the warmth of Henry's stomach, off hand turning up to rub his fingers up and down Henry's calf before wrapping a lazy, protective hand around his ankle. He could stay here for quite a lot longer than they had without a single argument.
Safe was a hard thing to feel in Mathis and here was the only place he managed it in a full and complete kind of way. He felt safe to talk to Malcolm, but with both Malcolm and Tim, there was always a chance of a fight or a nightmare or a hallucination creeping around the edges. Raylan didn't blame them for those things, he wanted to help, but if he was asking for honesty, he couldn't stop at the line that started this whole conversation.
"My problems have been carefully curated over many many years." Only half a joke; he knew he was a handful. "And your problems aren't so heavy that I can't help carry some of 'em. Not enough good guys left, anyway. An' you are, you know. Onna the good guys."
Raylan cracked his eyes open to peer up.
"Out here tolerating my snores and drool so early in the mornin'. Bein' far too good a pillow than I expected... I hope I'm not the thing wakin' you up that early either." He was sated, comfortable, humming every once and a while with those rough fingers over the shell of his ear and could one hundred percent go to sleep on the gunslinger right there.
no subject
Humming contentedly behind a pleased little smile like a cat caught in the cream at the fingers in his hair and the way being so close to Henry's chest deepened the sweet, husky drawl, he turned his face into the warmth of Henry's stomach, off hand turning up to rub his fingers up and down Henry's calf before wrapping a lazy, protective hand around his ankle. He could stay here for quite a lot longer than they had without a single argument.
Safe was a hard thing to feel in Mathis and here was the only place he managed it in a full and complete kind of way. He felt safe to talk to Malcolm, but with both Malcolm and Tim, there was always a chance of a fight or a nightmare or a hallucination creeping around the edges. Raylan didn't blame them for those things, he wanted to help, but if he was asking for honesty, he couldn't stop at the line that started this whole conversation.
"My problems have been carefully curated over many many years." Only half a joke; he knew he was a handful. "And your problems aren't so heavy that I can't help carry some of 'em. Not enough good guys left, anyway. An' you are, you know. Onna the good guys."
Raylan cracked his eyes open to peer up.
"Out here tolerating my snores and drool so early in the mornin'. Bein' far too good a pillow than I expected... I hope I'm not the thing wakin' you up that early either." He was sated, comfortable, humming every once and a while with those rough fingers over the shell of his ear and could one hundred percent go to sleep on the gunslinger right there.