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[abrightboy]

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[abrightboy]

“No time like the present,” Malcolm suggests softly. “…I don’t mind if you start with the kisses, though,” he admits. It’s been a long several days.

[conning]

He gives a soft little chuckle and starts with the kisses, as requested.

Once Malcolm has dozed off and Neal has gently buckled him to the bed for caution's sake, he goes down to make Malcolm something to eat. Each step feels off-balance, and the angles of the world are still... wrong. Even beyond the physical discomfort he's still wrapped in, the sense that everything touching him is touching him in the wrong place. He's in his boxers and an unbuttoned shirt he picked up off the floor of their bedroom, making some mild scrambled eggs, when he hears feet on the stairs and looks over with a distracted smile. "I promise I'm making them for me too."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm, rumpled and bleary, pads over to wrap his arms around Neal from behind, resting his cheek on his fiance’s shoulder.

“Is that my shirt?” he murmurs.

[conning]

Neal glances back, confused. It smells like Malcolm, yes, but he'd assumed it was because Malcolm had worn it, not because...

"It is." He looks down when he says it, making sure, because it is. But it's loose. A little long, even.

And the angle of Malcolm's face resting against him isn't right either.

He can feel his heartbeat starting to pick up again, suspicion that something isn't right rising. He tries to keep his tone teasing anyway. "Did you get some oversized shirts? You can just borrow mine."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm lifts his head.

“Neal, you’re still changing back. I can tell because there’s still brown in your eyes. Don’t freak out; enjoy being the clothing thief for a few hours or so.”

[conning]

God, Malcolm knows him so well. How can someone know him so well and still feel this way?

His shoulders relax a little--or rather, he deliberately relaxes them, breathing out a little laugh. "You're right. You're right, I'm just... scared of going the other way."

He leans back against Malcolm's chest, paying attention this time to the way Malcolm's arms circle around him more snugly, the way Malcolm's shoulders rise just a little above his. It is kind of nice, when he focuses on that. He's never had this experience before.

[abrightboy]

“I promise I’ll tell you the moment you grow hair on your back again,” Malcolm tells him.

[conning]

An airy little laugh, though there’s a shiver underneath it.

“If you want to try and be sexy about it you can offer me a shave. A man who’s willing to shave your back while you morph into a glorified ferret is definitely a keeper.”

[abrightboy]

“I would have offered but I didn’t know if that would be insensitive,” Malcolm teases back. “But hopefully you’ll keep me anyway.”

[conning]

Neal closes his eyes for a minute, filled with a warmth and security that scares him underneath. It scares him in a way that makes the Lonely stir, but Neal sets the spatula aside and turns around in Malcolm’s arms to kiss him. When he draws back, he’s studying the other man’s features with the wonder and curiosity of someone who’s never been so close before. This angle is entirely unfamiliar. It makes Neal’s heartbeat quicken in an odd way to be too short to see the crown of Malcolm’s head. “As long as you’ll let me.”

[abrightboy]

"I always will," Malcolm tells him matter of factly. "Always."