“What did you give me?” he asks, blinking away the light, turning his face to the mattress. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. It’s weird.
“Just something to dull the pain, Raylan,” Boyd says. He smooths the pad of his thumb over the place in Raylan’s arm where he’d just removed the needle. Raylan’s other arm is tied to the bed which is bolted down in the trailer. “I sincerely apologize for all of this. I never meant to draw you into this mess, but I need you out of it for just a little while longer. Hence, your presence here.”
Raylan’s head is fuzzy now. He licks his lips. “What pain?”
He hears Boyd laugh. He can’t see him, but suddenly wants to. “That’s right, Raylan.”
Raylan wonders why he isn’t mad. He can’t remember how he got here, even what Boyd was doing that he’d be in his affairs again. He feels a vast distance between his usual motivations, what would be a rage of anger at Boyd for whatever it was this time, and what he’s feeling now, which is a sleepy kind of peace. He likes it, so he smiles.
He twists himself around and looks up to find Boyd’s familiar face, looking at him with something almost fond in his eyes.
“Remember when we used to get stoned at my daddy’s cabin?” he says.
“Barely.” Raylan grins. “We only did that twice.” He’s speaking slow, because his mouth won’t move any faster.
“You look like you did then,” Boyd tells him and leans down to touch the side of Raylan’s face, just lightly, at his temple. Boyd’s fingers are warm and they send a wave of something good rippling across him. He turns Raylan’s head easily--he hasn’t got the strength or the desire to resist now--and looks into his eyes, checking them for some reason.
Raylan squirms under the scrutiny and Boyd smiles at him. “You always insist,” he says, “that we’re so different now, than we used to be, Raylan.”
“Do I?” he asks, though he knows he does. He doesn’t know why he said that. He smiles again, feeling free without that knowledge.
“You’re such a liar.” Boyd leans closer after he says that and kisses him.
Boyd’s kiss is slow as everything else. He opens his mouth and Raylan slides his tongue in, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and Boyd pulls back, clearly surprised.
“You’re takin’ advantage,” Raylan says softly, anything but angry. Boyd is still near, so he tries to lean in again, he wants more, but doesn’t know why. His arm holds him back though, and Boyd doesn’t come back in.
Boyd’s eyes are wide. “That was not my intent,” he says seriously.
Raylan smiles. “I ain’t mad.”
“Not now,” Boyd returns.
“Since when d’you care if I’m mad at you?”
“Oh, Raylan,” he sighs and draws his hands to either side of Raylan’s face. Raylan turns his head and sucks Boyd’s thumb into his mouth. He’s got his eyes closed, so he only hears Boyd’s breath hitch.
“I c’n suck you off, Boyd,” Raylan says softly. “‘Member I used to be real good at that.”
Boyd pulls his fingers into the thick, longer strands of Raylan’s hair, massaging his scalp, leaving him boneless, like he’s completely left his body. “I remember,” Boyd whispers. “I regret, Raylan, so much, but I have some matters that must be tended.”
Boyd’s hand, shifted to his chin, prompts Raylan’s eyes open once more. Boyd’s eyes are clear, but there’s something hard in them now, resolved. “I just wanted to see you smile at me like that again.”
Boyd reaches down then, to Raylan’s leg, which he’s only just realized hasn’t moved barely at all with the rest of him this whole time. Boyd’s fingers come hard, grasping, clutching, around Raylan’s ankle.
He hears bones scraping against each other and screams for what seems like a long time before the world goes blessedly black.