empathicfault | IC Inbox

Malcolm is excited to have a boyfriend on Valentine's Day. He's never had a romantic partner on Valentine's Day in his whole life and this year he not only has one, he has The One.

Possibly he has a fictional romance idea of what it should look like gleaned from movies and novels.

He knows Will will come by after his shift in the kennels, so after his regular Wednesday morning appointment with Avalon, he doesn't book anyone else and goes back to his cabin to prepare.

He makes a platter of finger foods for dinner from the tiny gourmet portions that Neal leaves him in his fridge. He couldn't find roses in the greenhouse, but he did find purple tulips. He sets a bouquet of them in a vase on the counter, then lights candles, setting them all around the cabin. Next: the gift. He takes three medieval throwing knives and lays them in a velvet lined wooden box with a glass top, so they can be stored or displayed in it and sets it on the island, next to the flowers and the food. After the port, elaborate weapons feel like an appropriate romantic gift.

And then he's expecting Will imminently. He puts soft music on the stereo and turns down the overhead lights and goes to get out a bottle of wine and two glasses while he waits.

Will enters the cabin as usual, with Winston and Buster on the leashes that they probably don't actually need and already in the middle of leaning down to release them. It's not until he's standing back up again that he notices the everything that Malcolm has set up on the island. The music, the candles.

He breaks into a bright grin and fiddles with his ring as he walks in. "Malcolm?" he asks, before seeing him in the living room. "You set all this up?"

"Will!" He comes around the couch to give him an enthusiastic hug and a warm kiss. "Happy Valentine's Day," he says, still clinging to him, smiling softly at him.

Will hugs him back, pulling him back in for a longer kiss. "Happy Valentine's Day," he says, then follows that up with a small, slightly nervous chuckle. "I've never really- never properly celebrated it. This is- really nice. Thank you."

He's swept up in his own emotions, overwhelmed by himself rather than someone else. He's surprised someone would do this for him. Even if it's- well, a lot- the effort means a lot to him.

Malcolm is A Lot. But today it's all for Will.

He smiles broadly. Happily.

"I'm so glad you like it! I didn't know if it was cheesy or not," he explains, glancing around.

Will looks down, grin turning into a happy smirk. "Mmm, maybe. But I do like cheese. Besides, I think it's best to go with your gut for this sort of thing. After all, I'm in love with you and how passionately you approach everything..."

He wants to nip at Malcolm's neck, but that might start something that they'd get caught up in too early. And Malcolm went to all this trouble. So he instead leans down for a chaste kiss- well, more of an openmouthed, hungry kiss. So sue him.

It’s a good reward system. The kind that gets you enthusiastic surprises and heart eyes from someone who just can’t resist being cheesy sometimes.

He returns the kiss with equal passion and grins up at him when it breaks. “There’s food,” he says - a rare occasion, indeed - but rather than draw away from Will to show him, he drags him in that direction still stuck to him like a barnacle, where a plate of gourmet small bites are sitting on the counter. “Do you want some wine?”

He looks back at the bites, but his smile flickers with slight strain. It's gone in a flash, and he hopes Malcolm lets it go. If not, they can talk about it, but some names don't deserve to be uttered today.

"Sure. I'd love some wine," he replies, and his eyes move down and to the display box. His smile widens, bright again. "You got me knives?"

He notices it, the flicker, and he’s not sure if it’s right to ask… and then before he lands on an answer, Will notices the gift and distracts him with the full wattage of his smile.

Malcolm grins back, filing the look away for later.

“They’re authentic medieval throwing daggers. If you don’t know how to throw them, I can show you.”

These were not an Admiral request, these come from his own collection. Truly a gift from the heart.

“They’re very finely crafted. Take them out. Feel them. The weight of each one is identical. Think about that. They were made by hand.” He looks up at Will’s face. “Do you like them?”

"Both something from your collection and a promise to teach me more? How could I not?" Will replies, his eyes not leaving the knives. He has a slightly manic look to him as he holds one in each hand, testing the weight against each other. "Damn, getting these both the same weight must've taken a lot of skill."

He almost wants to throw them right now, but even he will wait for a go-ahead before likely putting holes in Malcolm's wall. "I, uh, might've gotten you something too. Somewhat related."

Malcolm lights up. "You got me something?" Is he not the only cheesy one? "What is it?"

Will purses his lips and then smiles, rather shyly. "It was meant to be more of a general surprise, but..." He realized what day was coming up and figured he'd hold onto it for a little longer.

Will breaks away from Malcolm and the wonderful little arrangement on the counter and heads towards the 'bedroom'. Reaching under the frame he comes out with a rather nice-looking long sword. It's in a plain leather sheath. But once Malcolm pulls it out, he'll find charter marks all over the blade. They're all to help counter with the various 'free magic' and undead creatures that they spent the week fighting.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he says, as he rejoins Malcolm and holds the sword out for him. Slightly sheepishly, Will adds, "Uh...I thought you might want a souvenir."

Malcolm takes it from him, a little wowed, pulling it partway out of the sheath to get a look at the blade. Then he looks up at Will.

"Did... Did you get this on the planet?"

Will was already thinking about this before they even left.

"I love it," he breathes. He puts it on the counter so he can lean up and give him a tender, lingering kiss. "I love you," he whispers in its wake.

Will's eyes flick over the blade and the sheath and he considers once again that he should've maybe tooled the sheath like he'd intended, or maybe it wasn't as well-crafted as he could've gotten. He has a hundred things to say on his lips but that just means he stays silent as Malcolm looks it over.

He licks his lips just before Malcolm's back to him, kissing him. Will kisses back with relief and squeezes Malcolm closer before they part. "I love you, too. I'm glad. I got lucky, with this. I don't really know much...about these sorts of weapons. But we don't have access to any magically-embossed swords, generally."

"I've never had a magic sword before," Malcolm confirms, turning to look at his weapons cases, already mentally working on how he wants to display it, without taking his hand off Will's waist. He's going to put it right in the middle of one of the cases, that much he knows. It's just a question of which one and how he wants to rearrange it. He looks at Will again like he's just remembered something.

"Wine!"

Will accepted Malcolm's offer of it, and then Malcolm got distracted and forgot all about it. He shifts around the counter a little to pour two glasses and brings them and himself back into Will's space, putting one glass in his hand and holding up the other to toast. "To our future."

Will is just grinning, now. Malcolm can get these boyish grins out of him easily, especially when they both seem happy and unfettered by their pasts. When Malcolm looks at him, Will just stares for a long moment.

And then Malcolm remembers the wine and Will laughs. "Wine," he replies moving with Malcolm so he doesn't have to go as far to get to him. He takes the glass of the light white, looks at it with a light behind, then clinks it gently to Malcolm's glass. His heart feels full. "To our future. And to many more days like this."

“And to finally understanding what happiness actually feels like,” Malcolm adds before taking a sip.

He glances at the platter of food, but recalls the look that crossed Will’s face when he pointed it out before.

“Do you… do you not like this food? It’s the ones Neal leaves for me so I remember to eat. Well. Left for me, I guess…” His voice trails off. It’ll be a while at least before that happens again. He lifts his gaze back to Will’s face. “I can get something else,” he offers earnestly. He knows where the commissary is now, after going there to pay Shaw’s meat tax. A rip off, since she promised they could talk if he brought something to eat and then she wouldn’t engage. Or even acknowledge that he spoke. “The number of things I have the ability to prepare is pretty limited, but I can do… a few things.”

Will's sip is long and lingering- he understands why Hannibal always held the glass so damn weird, now, the smell really permeates when one's nose is more sensitive. But he notices Malcolm's worry and finishes his sip, putting the glass down.

He puts his hand on Malcolm's shoulder and rubs it a little. "No, no," he says, shaking his head. "It's just been a long while since someone fed me gourmet food and topped it off with wine. And you can...probably guess who that was. The reminder from my brain wasn't particularly welcome. That's all."

Ooooh nooooo he reminded him of his ex. He glances at the food and almost goes down that spiral but then he notices Will’s hand on his shoulder. How it’s warm. The affection in the gesture.

He looks at Will’s face again. Oh, that’s warm too. And affectionate. The uncertainty in his expression fades into another, softer smile.

“I didn’t think of that,” he says apologetically.

'Ex' is both way too strong and not enough to describe what Hannibal Lecter was and is to Will. But whatever term would encompass that, it does not need to be spared a single thought in the here and now.

Will shakes his head again. "I wouldn't expect you to. That's just the mess in my head. Which feels like it's all slowly untangling, mostly thanks to you. So let's enjoy. You can eat this, too?"

He assumes so, since it was actually made for him. The food looks amazing. Will is seriously going to need to learn to cook soon.

Malcolm’s smile gets lighter. He glances at the plate and nods. All stuff he can eat.

“I know what it’s like. The mess. The way it sneaks up sometimes.” He pulls the plate over so he doesn’t have to stray from Will’s arms to pick up one of the bites and pop it in his own mouth - safe, see? - before picking one up and offering it to Will. “This one has something lemony in it.” He’s not a chef, either.

Will watches with knowing eyes as Malcolm eats one of the bites. Of course it's safe, but of course it doesn't hurt to see Malcolm eat one, either. Will finds himself absolutely charmed by the gesture and takes the offering with a gracious nod.

The bite itself is slightly big, but that just means it takes a little extra chewing. His eyebrows pop up as swallows it. "It's really good...definitely something lemony," he confirms, with an amused smirk. "Have you had this before?"

“Not that one,” Malcolm says. “That’s a new one.” He puts his glass down so that hand can absently grip Will’s waist while he peruses the plate and picks up another. “I’ve had this one,” he says offering it to Will. “Something with salmon and maple syrup.”

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