abrightboy | Happily Ever After AU

abrightboy

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From:

conning

"Yeah. We could go to a bunch of my old haunts. I could introduce you to... some interesting people on both sides of the proverbial fence."

Neal grins shamelessly.

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm laughs lightly, delighted.

“Are you saying you want to show me off to your friends? Because you should be warned that I’m not super great at first impressions,” he sort of jokes.

From:

conning

"Trust me, half of them aren't either."

Neal sighs happily, pressing his face against Malcolm to breathe him in. "Honeymoon. ...What do you feel about weddings?"

From:

abrightboy

“I haven’t given them much thought,” he admits. “This is the first time they felt like… something for someone like me.”

And people around them would still think they were rushing into it if they heard this conversation.

“Like a lot of things, I guess. Life things. Having a life.”

From:

conning

“We’ll sort them out.” There’s a sleepiness in his tone now that he doesn’t try to fight, content to fall asleep in the warmth of this conversation.

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm hears him drifting and, instead of answering, lets him go, listening to his breathing even out. It doesn’t take him long to drift himself and by the time his terror comes and goes, he waits for Neal to fall back asleep before slipping out of bed.

When his phone buzzes on the bedside table, he’s across the apartment, cooking eggs and humming.

From:

conning

Neal is awake enough to realize it’s Malcolm’s phone, and muzzy enough not to look at the display. He answers with a groggy crispness that makes it clear he’d rather not be talking.

“Malcolm Bright’s phone, his secretary speaking.”

From:

abrightboy

“Oh, good,” Martin says dryly. “You’re still here. I’d like to speak to my son.”

From:

conning

“I am.” Neal lifts a hand to touch the remains of the bruise Rhonda left on his face, hoping silently that Martin is still at least a little sepia green around the eye. “He can’t come to the phone right now. May I take a message?”

From:

abrightboy

“Oh, he can’t. Well, tell him it’s about his sister and see if he can’t find a moment to come to the phone,” Martin suggests.

From:

conning

Ah. “Please hold,” Neal chirps, then presses the mute button and counts to ten before he calls over to Malcolm. “As much as I would like you to stay exactly where you are looking exactly like you do, your dad is on the phone.”

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm turns, expression bright at the sound of Neal’s voice, though it darkens slightly at his news.

He pads over and crawls onto the bed, curling up against Neal before taking the phone and unmuting it.

“Dr Whitly.”

“Your dalliance continues to be as charming as ever.”

“I’m hanging up…”

“Okay, wait. We need to talk about… the Ainsley thing. This morning.”

Malcolm sighs. “Fine. I’ll be there in an hour or so.”

From:

conning

Neal resists the urge to say something smart before Malcolm hangs up. He brushes his fingertips against Malcolm’s cheek lightly. “You want me to come? I can wait outside.”

Edited Date: 16 Mar 2022 12:32 (UTC)

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm nods, pressing his face to Neal's shoulder.

"Yeah. It's not like you don't know the story."

From:

conning

Neal hugs him close, then kisses his crown. “Come on. You were making me breakfast. It was sexy.”

From:

abrightboy

He lifts his head to look at Neal.

"It was?"

From:

conning

"Very." Neal takes the opportunity to kiss his mouth as well.

From:

abrightboy

He brightens noticeably.

“Okay,” he agrees, clambering off the bed to go back to the kitchen to finish whisking the eggs. “Do you want toast?” he asks over his shoulder, getting out a frying pan.

From:

conning

Neal watches him fondly for a moment from bed before bestirring himself. "That would be great. I got some honey oat bread--it's in the cabinet next to the fridge."

Hearty, calorie-dense, sweet, on the easy side when digesting.

From:

abrightboy

"That sounds good," he remarks, turning on the burner, not thinking for a moment that Neal bought it specifically with him in mind. He rummages around in a drawer for a spatula. "Will you split a piece with me?"

From:

conning

It makes Neal happy, in an odd way, to do little things to make Malcolm’s life better without drawing attention to the choices made.

He kisses the back of Malcolm’s neck as he enters the kitchen area. “I’d love to.”

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm grins at him, looking over one shoulder and then the other to follow him around the kitchen with his eyes as he pours egg into the pan, Martin and whatever he wants far, far away.

"Scrambled okay?"

From:

conning

"Scrambled sounds perfect." While Malcolm handles the eggs, Neal deals with the coffee, caught up in the surreal domesticity of it.

This is what he wants. It's what he's always wanted. It feels somehow too good to be true, now and then, but he does his best to ignore that feeling when it arises. He sets a cup of coffee down next to the stove and wraps an arm around Malcolm from behind, his other hand occupied with its own cup of coffee.

From:

abrightboy

Malcolm smiles as Neal's arm slides around him and tilts his head to look up at him.

"Am I doing these right?" he asks, but in the tone of someone asking an expert, not someone afraid of fucking up.

From:

conning

"Here," Neal says, resting his chin on Malcolm's shoulder and guiding Malcolm's hand with his free one. "'Scrambled' is something of a misnomer. You want to fold them evenly over low heat. Theoretically, the slower you cook your eggs, the creamier they'll be. You can turn the heat up high and whisk things around and be done in less than a minute, sure, but they'll have a harder texture and the curds will be a lot larger and wildly inconsistent in terms of thickness and degree of cook-through."