[Raylan can only grunt a little at Tom's deflection of his own self-deprecation. If he was neither asshole nor idiot, he wouldn't be here bleeding - he would have been able to get through everything without this kind of damage.
His brain was more than happy to run through all the scenarios that it could, from paranoia or possibly from blood loss; what could he have done different? Where could he have been faster or-
He barely hears Tom's answer amid his mental assessment until the man slips himself into Raylan's lap. His free hand spreads out to the side like he was avoiding the natural tilt towards settling it on Tom's thigh with a hitch of his breath, held for a long moment as he looks up at Tom.
Fuck. This was inappropriate, the feeling that coils up in the low of his spine, the one that comes with a familiar feeling in his groin, the one that aches to be reminded that he's still alive. It was mixed with a soft horror that only reflects in his eyes at what Tom was saying, and the first stab of the needle in his skin has Raylan hissing in a breath as he turns his head, hand falling to the arm of the couch to dig his fingers in.]
Goddamn, [He snarls out softly, trying his best to do as he was told.] What I wouldn't give for whiskey. For the wounds and me both, jesus christ.
no subject
His brain was more than happy to run through all the scenarios that it could, from paranoia or possibly from blood loss; what could he have done different? Where could he have been faster or-
He barely hears Tom's answer amid his mental assessment until the man slips himself into Raylan's lap. His free hand spreads out to the side like he was avoiding the natural tilt towards settling it on Tom's thigh with a hitch of his breath, held for a long moment as he looks up at Tom.
Fuck. This was inappropriate, the feeling that coils up in the low of his spine, the one that comes with a familiar feeling in his groin, the one that aches to be reminded that he's still alive. It was mixed with a soft horror that only reflects in his eyes at what Tom was saying, and the first stab of the needle in his skin has Raylan hissing in a breath as he turns his head, hand falling to the arm of the couch to dig his fingers in.]
Goddamn, [He snarls out softly, trying his best to do as he was told.] What I wouldn't give for whiskey. For the wounds and me both, jesus christ.