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[abrightboy]

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[conning]

Neal snorts. "You unequivocally do."

He leans up to kiss Malcolm, feeling a little like he's missed a step while walking. A motion that should be natural, thrown off. "Not even a question."

[abrightboy]

"See? New day, new life," Malcolm tells him. "Don't you want to enjoy it to the fullest?"

[conning]

He does. Neal kisses Malcolm again, the motion almost exploratory, Neal trying to feel out the differences in his physical leverage now versus seven inches of height ago.

A pause, and he studies Malcolm’s beautiful blue eyes. “Do you still think I’m attractive?”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm is genuinely confused by the question.

“You’re exactly the same,” he points out.

And, in fairness, he felt he was exactly the same Neal when he was still partly a weasel. The same in all the important ways. There’s no missing how stunning he looks and it kind of pleases him that other people do notice that, it’s just not the source of his quintessential Nealness. So Neal’s either marrying the wrong person or exactly the right one.

[conning]

The right one. Neal melts internally at the genuine confusion on Malcolm’s face, the fact that it’s so real. He nuzzles his face into Malcolm’s neck, still unconscious of the fact that he picked the gesture up while Neaseled. “That’s all I need.”

[abrightboy]

He said something right.

“Oh. Well. There’s lots more where that came from,” he declares.

[conning]

Neal laughs quietly and wraps his arms around Malcolm waist. He layers himself against Malcolm, pressing as close to the other man as possible. Mapping the contours of their bodies with a new elevation. As it were.

“I don’t like feeling like I can’t protect you, even though I would’ve been terrible at protecting you before anyway.”

[abrightboy]

“You protect me all the time,” Malcolm murmurs against his hair. “Why do you suddenly think physical protection is what I need?”

[conning]

"I don't know," he admits quietly. "I really don't. I just know I felt... better about being able to... influence things before. Physically. Be intimidating, even when I knew there wasn't anything to back it up."

[abrightboy]

"I think I've been the one stabbing things that attacked us," Malcolm tells him. "And I like it that way. You don't need to be violent. You shouldn't be violent; it's not who you are." Neal's not like him; Neal is Good.

[conning]

“I don’t like you having to carry that alone.”

He touches Malcolm’s cheek. “It’s not who you are either, not matter how hard it is for you to see that.”

If Neal knew that Malcolm thought he wasn’t good himself, he would have a lot more to say. As it is, Neal just wishes he were strong enough to help.

[abrightboy]

“I know what I am,” Malcolm tells me, leaning into the touch. “And knowing helps me keep it at bay.”

And the Entities, too, though he hasn’t really connected that yet, beyond helping Neal resist the whispers.

“But if you want to be… more capable at self-defence, then you can learn.”

[conning]

Neal nuzzles his face against Malcolm’s neck again. “I’d like that. Please.”

He’s still resisting the Lonely, still reminding himself of what he’d lose whenever the hunger or the urge to use what he’s learning he can do hits. He knows what helps him, too. “I love you.”

[abrightboy]

"I love you, too, so go get your pantlegs taken up and stop fretting about it," Malcolm tells him with a gentle swat on his hip. "You don't want to trip over them when you're learning aikido or whatever."

[conning]

The hip swat is startling but not in a bad way. Neal leans back enough to see Malcolm’s face and raises his eyebrows.

“I don’t have to do it right this moment, do I, sensei?”

[abrightboy]

He laughs. “At least go put them away so you stop obsessing about them,” he says, pointing in their direction.