abrightboy | Voicemail (IC Contact Post) OLD

This is Bright. Leave a message.

Page 11 of 201 << [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30] [31] [32] [33] [34] [35] [36] [37] [38] [39] [40] [41] [42] [43] [44] [45] [46] [47] [48] [49] [50] [51] [52] [53] [54] [55] [56] [57] [58] [59] [60] [61] [62] [63] [64] [65] [66] [67] [68] [69] [70] [71] [72] [73] [74] [75] [76] [77] [78] [79] [80] [81] [82] [83] [84] [85] [86] [87] [88] [89] [90] [91] [92] [93] [94] [95] [96] [97] [98] [99] [100] [101] [102] [103] [104] [105] [106] [107] [108] [109] [110] [111] [112] [113] [114] [115] [116] [117] [118] [119] [120] [121] [122] [123] [124] [125] [126] [127] [128] [129] [130] [131] [132] [133] [134] [135] [136] [137] [138] [139] [140] [141] [142] [143] [144] [145] [146] [147] [148] [149] [150] [151] [152] [153] [154] [155] [156] [157] [158] [159] [160] [161] [162] [163] [164] [165] [166] [167] [168] [169] [170] [171] [172] [173] [174] [175] [176] [177] [178] [179] [180] [181] [182] [183] [184] [185] [186] [187] [188] [189] [190] [191] [192] [193] [194] [195] [196] [197] [198] [199] [200] [201] >>

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm is heading out for morning coffee and, while he’s always kind of hoping he’ll run into Neal on this trip, he’s not expecting it here and he stops short.

“Oh. Hi. Are… you all right?”

From:

conning

Neal blinks, focuses on Malcolm, and his stomach drops somewhere beneath the earth's mantle. If he had to pick one person he would not want to see him like this right now, it would be Malcolm Bright.

"Uh. Yeah, I will be, just. Headache."

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm’s too observant gaze - the one that’s gotten him in trouble before - travels over Neal in concern, but after a moment, it dawns on him that these are the clothes he was wearing yesterday.

“You were out all night,” he says. “Did you have somewhere to stay?” He stops and has the good grace to look chastened immediately. “You don’t have to answer that.” Malcolm isn’t his dad. He looks everywhere but Neal. “I. Um. I was just getting coffee.”

From:

conning

"Malcolm, I..."

Neal stops on the verge of an explanation, realizing he doesn't have one. He could tell Malcolm that something happened last night. That he lost control. But he liked it. It was freeing, it was the first time in so long that he hasn't felt the background tug of sadness or anxiety. Once upon a time, Neal Caffrey would have taken the out and dodged responsibility in a heartbeat.

He closes his mouth, jaw working a moment as he tries to figure out what to say.

It doesn't occur to him that he has no reason to feel bad about this. Not really. He's not beholden to Malcolm, he's not responsible for his feelings, he's not... They aren't anything.

He starts to say coffee sounds perfect. He starts to say mind if I come.

"I should. Check in with my roommates."

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm was kind of hoping he would come but he isn’t surprised that he doesn’t. Still, he stammers “Oh. No. Yeah. They’re probably. Worried.”

Or not. Maybe this isn’t the first time. Maybe he does this brand of… not having a relationship. Maybe he does have a relationship and he doesn’t know how to say he found the exception to that self-inflicted rule and it just isn’t Malcolm.

Still, he doesn’t look well. Malcolm gestures between him and the building with an awkwardness that’s tinged with anxiety and the same thing (embarrassingly) colours his voice as he blurts out, “Do you need help?”

No reason not to be a good friend. Because they’re friends. They decided to be friends. Mutually.

From:

conning

"No, that's, I." He pushes himself upright and his head starts to pound, making him stagger.

He does, in fact, need help, but he feels horrible at the thought of asking Malcolm for it.

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm reaches out to steady him.

“Let’s just… get you inside,” he suggests, one hand holding Neal’s arm while he reaches for the door with the other.

From:

conning

The guilt as Malcolm supports him up to the apartment is almost as nauseating as the hangover. Neal can't make himself look at the other man.

He fumbles his keychain out of his pocket at the door, leaning against the wall next to it as he sorts through the innocent-looking things that are actually picks to find the key. "You can. I've got it from here. Thanks. Really. Thank you."

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm looks uncertain, looks like he might turn away, then doesn’t and gestures towards the apartment instead.

“I could… make you some coffee or something. That’s what friends are for, right?”

From:

conning

Malcolm is too nice. He's too nice. Neal wants to tell him as much, wants to prompt Malcolm to be upset or angry or something, but he swallows the urge, fumbling his key into the lock.

"Thanks, but you don't need--"

--which is about when the door opens.

From:

retisense

Abby had been sleeping...for a few hours, anyway, before she woke up out of a dream, which is pretty normal for her. So she's up and making herself some hot chocolate when there's the sound of a key being fumbled very, very awkwardly into the lock.

The sound continues. And continues. So she turns off the burner under the milk and heads over to the door, not particularly caring that she's dressed in an thigh-length t-shirt that says 'Good Vibes Only' and a pair of panties. After all, it's probably just Neal, since the person in question has a key.

Opening the door, she's confronted with not just Neal but also Malcolm.

"Oh, hey boys."

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm looks over at the voice, blinks, then looks at Neal.

“I… guess you’re in good hands now,” he admits.

Neal doesn’t need his help anymore for real this time.

From:

conning

"Um... yeah."

He can't meet Abby's eyes, or Malcolm's, and pretends to inspect a spot above the door for a moment before he forces himself to at least look at Malcolm's face. "Thanks. For walking me here."

From:

retisense

Okay so this is just...impossibly awkward. Something has obviously gone down here and she doesn't know what it is, but there are just so many possibilities, some of which are amusing and some of which are horrifying, considering they live in spooky central.

"Thanks for walking him here. I kinda like the big lug and him coming home safe is important."

For a moment, she pauses, still impossibly awkward, then makes a snap decision.

"Malcolm, you should come in and have a cup of tea. I think tea would be good."

From:

abrightboy

“Oh. Um. I….” He looks at Neal. “…Would… that be okay?”

From:

conning

Neal's attention jerks to Abby, but he doesn't have time for more than a moment's dismay before Malcolm is asking if it's okay, and Neal doesn't know when or why it happened but he's pretty sure he would tell Malcolm just about right now if it meant making him happy.

"Yeah, sure. That's--yeah."