"So… muffins or pancakes." Tim finished his coffee.
Raylan pretended to consider the choice, even though Tim was ninety percent sure that the cowboy would go with the muffins. He liked doing things for himself, Tim figured that was a hangover from the week Winona spent with them back in the beginning.
"Muffins." Raylan was already on his feet and heading in the direction of the toaster. Tim grinned, but kept his thoughts to himself. Raylan got a little uptight when he was reminded of Winona's mildly disastrous attempts to help Raylan cope with his blindness.
Scratch that, a lot uptight.
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Tim jumped at the loud thud, and the string of muttered curse words. Winona had a right to be there, but this wasn't wholly successful.
She arrived, and Raylan was back sleeping in the spare bedroom, with Winona. Tim hoped with all his heart that they could make a go of it.
It was obvious after half a day that this was not going to be a smooth transition. Winona couldn't get to grips with the door routine. All the way open, or all the way closed. Leave them ajar and Raylan had a tendency to bang into them.
Tim desperately wanted to go to Raylan, check he was alright, but it was awkward. Winona had a prior claim. It was painful, she had only been with them for a day and a night, already Raylan seemed to be losing confidence. Tim watched him hesitate, put his hand on the wall to orientate himself, before he would just walk confidently across the room, knowing where all the furniture was.
Now Winona was making dinner, and she had laid the table. Tim took one look at the settings and could feel a storm brewing. Awkward!
He couldn't believe that he was standing aside like this, it was his house, but Raylan deserved a shot at a second chance with the woman he still loved.
Raylan was headed for the refrigerator, and Winona intercepted him, "Honey, why don't you sit down," Tim watched her take his arm and steer him to the seat she had set next to herself. Tim sighed inwardly in sympathy. He could see the stiffness in Raylan's posture. The guy didn't like dependency at all.
Dinner was worse, even though Raylan had told her that he liked to do things for himself, Winona seemed determined to feed him, and help him drink. Tim sat there determined to give them some space, he could practically feel Raylan's frustration.
Three days went by, days where Raylan alternately seemed to reach boiling point, or suffered another drastic knock to his confidence. Then on the fourth, Raylan seemed to make up his mind.
Tim woke to a sense of someone else being in the room, which normally would have had him scrambling to a defensive position but instinct told him the someone was no threat. The quilt lifted and a long, lean body slid into the bed next to him. The body arranged itself pressed up against Tim, and long lean fingers wrapped themselves firmly around his wrist.
Confused, Tim was about to suggest that Raylan was in the wrong room, when the cowboy whispered 'please' in Tim's ear.
There was just a hint of desperation in the word, and Tim nodded. Then lay awake for the rest of the night wondering what the hell it all meant as Raylan curled into him and then just fell asleep as though he belonged there.
Winona was upset, which Tim thought utterly justifiable, but Raylan met her head on. "I'm not helpless," he snapped at her, "I don't need to be fed like a baby, I hate it when you rush to make coffee because the coffee pot's too dangerous for me. I can walk around the house without banging into the furniture or the doors if you just leave me to do it."
Winona glanced at Tim. Then back at Raylan. A look of understanding crossed her face. "I'm sorry," she said, "I entirely misread a situation," she glanced over at Tim again, as though seeking confirmation. "I should go." She was actually blushing, and suddenly it was as though she couldn't get out of the house quick enough.
There was an awkward silence while Winona went to pack, and Raylan headed straight for the coffee pot. Tim followed. They didn't talk about feelings, but this one time, Tim was prepared to make an exception. "What was that all about?"
"Nothin'" Raylan looked a little shifty, but Tim wasn't going to let this one slide. He just didn't really know how he was going to approach the subject. There was no how to manual on feelings. He could mathematically calculate the angles of a precision shot from a mile away, but the mathematics of the human heart, a complete mystery. Outside of work Tim Gutterson existed and that was about it, and Raylan Givens had majored in emotional unavailability
He couldn't let it go, he could barely articulate what 'it' was, just a certainty within himself that there was something more between them than just Tim's ability to cope with Raylan's temper.
"You came to me, remember." He said softly.
There was a silence, and Tim thought he'd pushed it too far, that Raylan wasn't going to answer and he'd just ruined one of the only two real friendships he had.
Raylan didn't move, hands carefully going through the motions of putting on the coffee maker.
Tim was going to walk away, give him the space he obviously craved, when Raylan put out a trembling hand in Tim's general direction.
Raylan's hands never shook. Even when he was scared out of his mind. Tim reached out and took it between both his own, Raylan moved then. Up close, into Tim's personal space and leaned.
He had had a few girlfriends over the years, he had never really considered a relationship with a man, and never someone like Raylan. As he wrapped his arms around his blind friend, he realised they fit.