Neal Caffrey || Log || September/October Catch-All

[conning]

Who: Neal and OTA/some for existing CR
When: September/October Catch-All (with one backdated August thing)
Where: ALL OVER ZE PLACE
Summary: SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER CATCH-ALL. Neal being bovvered by the sleep stuff and rescuing people/needing rescue, Evil Twin TDM prompts, sleepwalking after his murdered adoptive aunt, painting at Bonnie's, a couple of SOL prompts, DEATH BREAAAD both lead-up and hypersensitivity, some talk about mental health.
Warnings: HORROR STUFF.... Awful deaths, possibly drowning, murder of loved ones, gun violence, suicidal ideation, some ableism might crop up in the mental health threads. Toplevels will be labeled with likely subjects.

Prompts TBA below as they're finished! Feel free to PM me or message me at researchboner on plurk for specific prompts or with questions.

Comments

[conning]

"It's not like you could have expected..." Neal shivers. "You didn't have any reason to think something was wrong."

[abrightboy]

“Do you… do you have to go out anymore tonight?” Malcolm asks hesitantly.

[conning]

"No. I can stay. I want to stay." He's not going to go anywhere tomorrow, either, if he can possibly help it. Not without Malcolm anyway.

He has to brace himself a little internally to do it, but he kisses Malcolm on the lips, bile and all.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm, at first, accepts it in relief, but then the taste of his own mouth makes him put a hand on Neal’s chest to stop him.

“I just threw up,” he says in a voice that’s noticeably weak but also rational. “A lot.”

[conning]

"Yeah, but it's not like it's contagious." Neal smiles a little, trying to make it clear that he's joking. More or less. More seriously, he adds, "I love you."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm looks at that spot on his chest.

"I thought you didn't for a minute," he confesses. That was the worst part. "And... that maybe that meant you never did."

[conning]

He puts his own hand over Malcolm's and squeezes his fingers gently. "I've never lied to you about that. I never would."

[abrightboy]

“Do you think it’s an Avatar? A… a shape shifter or something?” Malcolm says, though his throat is tight.

[conning]

“I hope not.” The thought of an avatar taking direct, malicious interest in the two of them makes his skin creep. He presses his lips together. “I’m not a fan of surveillance, but temporary security cameras in the shared spaces might be a good idea.”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm nods before letting himself melt face first back into Neal’s shoulder.

“But stay with me,” he murmurs, muffled by Neal’s shirt. “A little bit. ‘Til I feel better.”

[conning]

“As long as you want.”

He doesn’t leave. He stays all night, only takes the time required to clean himself up from the day and help Malcolm clean up from his own ordeal. He throws out the food and bags the dishes the stranger used and takes them to the ADI the next day.

He waits until he sees someone who looks like him and isn’t him enter the apartment buildings on ADI’s security cameras before he heads back, skin crawling with apprehension. The text he sends Malcolm is just the monster face emoji.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm puts his phone in his pocket after he gets Neal’s text. The creature’s objective with the food stunt was to rupture his affection for Neal, so the tightness around his eyes, in the set of his mouth at the being’s arrival plays into the charade that he doesn’t know it wasn’t Neal.

“You’re home early.”

[conning]

The Other Neal gives Malcolm a once-over that's not unfriendly, precisely, but it's got none of the warmth and affection that Neal tends to carry when he looks at Malcolm. He shrugs. "I thought I'd come back and take a nap while no one was screaming or throwing up. Thought you'd be out."

[abrightboy]

“I did invite you to sleep in one of the other bedrooms last night. Why don’t you try that now?” Malcolm suggests coolly.

[conning]

"My masochism knows no bounds," he says, shucking his jacket and draping it over the back of a dining room chair. The Other Neal comes over to Malcolm, lifting a hand in a pantomime of Neal's frequent gesture to try and touch Malcolm's temple. "You're still mad about dinner. I thought you were better at letting things go."

[abrightboy]

"Guess you don't understand people as well as you think you do," Malcolm tells him. "Bit embarrassing in your line of work."

[conning]

He smiles faintly, giving Malcolm's skin a light pinch. "Ooh, it bites. Sexy."

[abrightboy]

"I didn't say you could touch me," Malcolm says, walking away from him to put the kettle on.

cw dubious consent, EMPHASIS ON THE DUBIOUS

[conning]

Neal steps after him, wrapping one arm around Malcolm's waist to pull him close. "I didn't say you could leave."

[abrightboy]

"Get off of me," Malcolm tells him in a low voice.

[conning]

“Or what,” he says quietly, kissing the back of Malcolm’s neck with exquisite tenderness.

[abrightboy]

His lips feel like Neal’s lips, but he’s skincrawlingly aware that they’re not.

“Or I’ll have to do something you’ll regret.”

[conning]

“But you won’t? That hurts me, truly.”

The last words are a murmur in Malcolm’s ear before the faux-Neal lets go. “You’re showing a bit of that Whitly fortitude.”

[abrightboy]

“And you don’t want to test it,” Malcolm notes, turning to look at him. “Smart.”

[conning]

He’s not sure how it happened so quickly, but he’s fairly positive the jig is up. Faux-Neal sighs, leaning the small of his back against the counter and crossing his arms.

“I suppose it was too much to hope that his sappiness wouldn’t win you back over.”