It’s so thorough that Malcolm gasps softly in its wake and almost drops his coffee, fumbling to keep a grip on it.
“Meredith works late every day and Tim doesn’t come home half the time,” he reports almost dreamily. “Can you stay tonight?” he asks as they start walking.
"Our memories add up to make us who we are," Malcolm points out softly. "Stealing memories is a theft of our selves," he muses. He's thought about it a lot. "It's the ultimate violation."
Neal shivers. It doesn't hit him right away, why Malcolm might have done a lot of thinking about this particular thing.
Then it does. He shifts enough that he can kiss Malcolm's temple as they walk. "It's a theft," he says softly. "It's a violation. The ultimate violation if it's deliberate."
He goes quiet again, weighing his own thoughts, trying to figure out what he wants to say.
"Fat chance," he says, and kisses Malcolm. "I liked you from day one. I meant it when I said I wouldn't have stood a chance if we made that New York trip."
"Okay." Neal doesn't know why it's scary to say yes, given everything, but it is. It feels like there's something being promised here that he can't quite articulate. "Name the date."
Malcolm smiles. "I have to check when I can request the time from my department," he says, almost apologetic. "But then I'll name the date." His eyes linger on Neal's face a further moment, then he slides his arms up around him and burrows his face into Neal's neck.
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“Let’s go back to your place,” he says softly. “And I’m going to hope really hard all the way there that no one else has come home in the interim.”
The kiss that follows hopefully illustrates Neal’s plans for the immediate future.
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“Meredith works late every day and Tim doesn’t come home half the time,” he reports almost dreamily. “Can you stay tonight?” he asks as they start walking.
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He should tell his roommates. Granted, it's not like they report to each other by requirement, but ever since Abby and Thackery...
Neal shakes his head to shed the thought of them. Or try to anyway. The guilt of having forgotten they were ever there.
He shivers. "I'm not a fan of memory loss."
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Then it does. He shifts enough that he can kiss Malcolm's temple as they walk. "It's a theft," he says softly. "It's a violation. The ultimate violation if it's deliberate."
He goes quiet again, weighing his own thoughts, trying to figure out what he wants to say.
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"...You did?" he squeaks.
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He lifts his hands to Malcolm's cheeks.
"Passing stranger, you do not know how longingly I looked upon you," he murmurs.
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"I thought maybe you never would again," he whispers.
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