Happily Ever After AU - for conning

[abrightboy]

From here

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[conning]

Neal shrugs, feeling sheepish and awkward suddenly. “It wasn’t a good idea when I was a kid. Then I left home and I never stayed in one place long enough for it to be fair. Or practical. If I suddenly had to leave town in a hurry, a pet would’ve drawn attention and made running clean harder to pull off.”

[abrightboy]

"...So what you're saying is that you never want to leave," Malcolm surmises, looking over at him slyly.

[conning]

Neal grins at that, the expression surprised out of him. “Yes. Exactly.”

He kisses Malcolm. “I love this city and I love you.”

[abrightboy]

“I promise I’ll try not to fall three stories anymore,” he says in the wake of the kiss, crossing his heart. “Twice in as many years should be anyone’s limit, right?”

[conning]

"More than," Neal says dryly. He stays quiet for a moment, not wanting to bring it up. Not wanting to drag that into this right now, when Malcolm is already injured and tired.

"My dad texted me. While we were at the hospital. I didn't look at it then. I didn't want to deal with it."

[abrightboy]

"Oh. Should we read it now?" Malcolm asks. "What do you think it's about? Do you think he found any real clues?"

[conning]

Neal shakes his head, not sure about... well, any of those questions, honestly. He rolls over to get his phone, then rolls back, staring at the unlocked home screen for a few long seconds without going to his messages.

[abrightboy]

“You don’t have to,” Malcolm reminds him. “We’re on… “ What did Gil call it? “Mandatory medical leave.”

[conning]

Neal makes a softly amused sound. Shakes his head. “No. I need to do this.”

He opens up the messages and his nerves are both rewarded and disappointed at once.

I know who killed her. Not who leaked her location, but I know who pulled the trigger.

He turns it toward Malcolm. “He definitely doesn’t trust me yet.”

[abrightboy]

“That’s rich considering who broke into the apartment with a story full of inconsistencies,” Malcolm remarks. “Ask him who.”

[conning]

Neal simply texts "Who"

No punctuation, because for some reason it feels more passive aggressively satisfying that way.

He waits, silent, watching for the little dots of a reply in motion, not thinking about the fact that his dad might not see the message yet.

[abrightboy]

“If he asks to meet you, are you going to go?” Malcolm whispers, like he’s worried the text message might hear him.

[conning]

"If you'll come with me."

He's not ready for Peter to meet James yet. Not yet. Malcolm, though, he trusts.

[abrightboy]

"I'd go anywhere with you," Malcolm tells him. It's matter of fact, like he's reporting something mundane, not making a big romantic declaration. Blame the head injury.

[conning]

Neal smiles with a softness very few people get to see. "I confess that I love you, I rejoice that I love you. I thank the maker of Heaven and Earth that gave you to me - the exultation floods me. I cannot find my channel - the Creek turns Sea at thought of thee."

Hopefully Dickinson won't mind his playing with the words a little.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm smiles brightly at him. “You can always think of a poem for the moment you want to make,” he says. He’s about to say something else when Neal’s phone beeps.

[conning]

Oh right. His dad.

Neal looks at his phone and grimaces. “He wants to meet. I’ll say we can do it in the afternoon.”

He wants to know what James thinks he’s discovered. Desperately wants to know. But he’s not going to drag Malcolm out of bed now that they’re finally settled.

[abrightboy]

"Are you sure?" Malcolm asks. "I'm... I'm okay."

He's concussed and bruised. But he's sure he's fine if Neal needs him.

[conning]

"He can wait," Neal says firmly. He kisses Malcolm's forehead. "You need rest."

[abrightboy]

He's not wrong. It's hard to argue with genuine sincere love and protection. With a jingle of restraints, he snuggles up into the crook of Neal's shoulder.

"You'll stay with me?"

[conning]

"I'm not going anywhere. Not tonight." He holds Malcolm close, gentle enough not to put pressure on any hidden bruises. Almost thoughtfully, he adds, "You saved more lives today. Including your own."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm turns his face against Neal's shoulder and smiles into his skin.

"Maybe I just wanted to see the you that listens to me again," he points out, but he knows that's not all it was. He always wants to save people by putting killers away. His whole identity revolves around it. "Don't leave without me tomorrow?" he murmurs sleepily. He doesn't trust James and he doesn't want Neal left vulnerable in his presence alone.

[conning]

Neal makes a soft noise, pretending to be amused instead of touched. He breathes in the smell of Malcolm's clean body pressed close to his, the scent of his dry cleaned pajamas. "Wouldn't dream of it."

He kisses Malcolm's crown. "Now sleep. The me that listens to you will be right here when you wake up."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm does stir in his sleep, but he doesn’t outright thrash and it’s almost six hours later before he wakes up, his eyes fluttering open with a soft gasp while he grapples for purchase on whatever is under his hands.

[conning]

Neal sleeps through the stirring, emotionally exhausted himself. When Malcolm gasps he twitches into half-wakefulness, enough that he's reaching out to touch Malcolm's cheek as the other man scrabbles at him and the sheets.

He means to say, "You're okay."

It comes out kind of like, "Yurrickay."