[closed log] what I love most about my home is who I share it with

[conning]

Who: Neal, Malcolm, and Tim Drake (with potential Steve Harrington if he wants to face this awkward reunion)
When: Early December
Where: Apartment B1 in the ADI complex
Summary: Malcolm brings Tim home to B1 after his unexpected reappearance.
Warnings: N/A yet



Neal Putters. He called out of work today to make some plans and cook some food, the latter to restock the fridge once again after the uptick in how much is being consumed with the addition of Steve Harrington to their space. Neal very clearly labels the ones that are for Malcolm, also marking them with the dates they should be eaten by.

...He's OCD at the best of times, but lately he's been feeling overzealous.

When he hears the key in the lock, he glances up, sees the familiar shape of Malcolm entering, and starts with a greeting-slash-codephrase laced with affection as he looks back to his work.

"Where was our second kiss?"

Comments

[conning]

He smiles a little.

"Want to see it?"

[abrightboy]

Malcolm actually smiles a little.

Just a little, but it's something.

And nods.

"Is it far?"

[conning]

"Not too-too far."

Far enough to distract Malcolm from his bad feelings. Get a little bit of a walk, some fresh air or a coffee while they wait for a cab out of the cold.

Neal kisses Malcolm, digging into his own pocket and pulling out a set of keys that aren't from ADI. He holds them up. "I'm not done soundproofing the master bedroom yet, but I'm getting there."

[abrightboy]

"Soundproofing? Is that so you can stay in a different room when it's bad?" Malcolm asks, taking the keys to look at them with a sort of wonder that makes his question distracted.

[conning]

Neal shrugs. "It's more so you won't be worried about guests and neighbors hearing."

He kisses Malcolm again and leads the way back outside, one arm around Malcolm. He lets the other man hang on to the keys.

They do get a cab, because it is cold, but Neal is still excited when they climb out in front of the little white house with its bright blue shutters and the SOLD sign stuck to the FOR SALE post in the front yard. "So... welcome home."

[abrightboy]

Guests. They could have guests. He doesn't know who that would be, but it's there.

He leans against Neal for the car ride, clutching the keys so tightly in his hand that when they reach the house and he unclenches his fist, they're imprinted in his palm.

He holds them out for Neal.

"Do I get a tour?"

[conning]

Neal doesn't take the keys, instead guiding Malcolm toward the front door. "Of course. You do the honors."

This was supposed to be more of a surprise. It was supposed to be coupled with that other thing that Tim so clearly saw. He'll have to pivot, figure out a new lead-in. It was necessary and worth it to reveal this early.

The front door is as bright blue as the shutters.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm goes to put the key in the lock, then pauses and looks sidelong up at Neal.

"I like the colours," he says, then turns his attention back to unlocking the door. It swings open and he steps tentatively inside, like he's somewhere he's not supposed to be, but looks around with active interest.

[conning]

"I hoped you would."

He follows Malcolm inside, into a bright, airy space with hardwood floors and a tidy, rustic kitchen that he's been slowly populating with nice, affordable--often gently used--furniture. Estate sales and auctions are a many-splendored thing. Once Malcolm has seen the downstairs, which is almost one continuous open room sans the half-bath, Neal leads him upstairs.

More hardwood. Three bedrooms, two of them smaller, one of those with purple walls. The third room is the master bedroom, and Neal is midway through creating an elaborate geometric mural with soundproofing tiles in cool colors. A large window looks out at the snow-covered street, the lingering holiday lights not yet turned on. "This one's ours."

His excitement has given way to nervousness.

[abrightboy]

Neal calls it 'ours' and for a second, Malcolm can't breathe.

After a moment, he remembers how lungs work and he takes a shaky breath, tearing his gaze from the room to Neal's face, his eyes wide again, like when he first brought it up at dinner.

"Ours. You said 'ours'."

[conning]

His stomach turns over. Did he say something wrong? Did he give himself away? What did he do?

"Yes...?"

[abrightboy]

“I’ve never lived in an ‘ours’ with anyone,” Malcolm explains awkwardly. Does that make him sound like a total loser? “It’s…” He looks around the room. “That was for other people,” he murmurs. He looks at Neal. “When can we move here?”

[conning]

Relief washes through him and he smiles. "Soon. I want to finish with the paneling and we need an actual bed, but. Soon."

[abrightboy]

“Can I help? Can I find a bed? I can find a bed,” he rambles stepping over to the nearest partly panelled wall and reaching out to touch it very carefully, like he’s afraid he’ll break it. “How long does paneling take? Do we have to tell ADI when we’re going?”

[conning]

Neal's smile turns into a grin. "Yes. Yes you can."

He steps into the room and takes Malcolm into his arms. "I assume we have to tell them so they know about available space."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm wraps his arms around him.

“How did you do this?”

Money is such a finite asset here and he’s never known how to make it or use it effectively, trust fund baby that he is.

[conning]

“What, the soundproofing? It’s actually not that hard—” Brb launching into an explanation of how he got the paneling and designed the look he wanted and cut things to fit the marks he stenciled on the wall—

[abrightboy]

Malcolm blinks at him but lets him finish before saying “How did you buy a house?” With no money, Neal. How do people with no money buy houses; he lives in an apartment his mother owns even in the world where he has infinite money. Soundproof paneling is way beyond his ken.

[conning]

"Oh." Well. "That wasn't as complicated. I got money and faked some papers to get some real papers to clear the legal checks and... made an offer. The fact that I couldn't just hit a bank and run is the only reason it took so long."

[abrightboy]

"Hit a bank," Malcolm says with a light laugh. "That's funny." He knows he's not joking. It's still funny. "And now it's all completely yours and nobody can take it away?"

[conning]

He chuckles. "The bank, if I don't make mortgage payments, ironically enough. But I plan on making them."

He kisses Malcolm's forehead. "A few signatures and it becomes 'ours.' At least until we want to leave."

[abrightboy]

"...Ours? But I didn't pay anything," Malcolm reminds him.

[conning]

"Who cares?" Neal shrugs. He doesn't. "If you want, you can join in on the mortgage payments."

[abrightboy]

"I don't... have any money," Malcolm tells him with a wince. His clothes aren't fancy, but he has quite a few of them now. He likes his fancy coffee. He's not used to a budget.

[conning]

Neal chuckles again. "Yes you do. I've been keeping an eye on things."

He may or may not have been autosaving a percentage of Malcolm's paychecks for him. "Not that I think you should spend it all at once now that you know it's there."