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[empathicfault]

"Will Graham here. Leave a message."

[Open for text/audio/action/whatever.]

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Re: After the Mood Goo and Fae Portals, before the Airy Mountain port

[abrightboy]

That makes Malcolm smile down at the desk, fidgeting in his seat a bit, but not in an uncomfortable way. He looks up.

"Really? ...Because I had some ideas but I didn't want to make it weird."

Re: After the Mood Goo and Fae Portals, before the Airy Mountain port

[empathicfault]

"Malcolm..." Will has a laugh dancing in his eyes as he smiles at his husband. "I'll happily tell you we make everything weird, and that's a feature. Who else am I going to discuss the decomposition time of a body buried at the Greenhouse? There's no actual flesh flies to get it started."

Just...as an example. "So if you have ideas, I want to hear them."

Re: After the Mood Goo and Fae Portals, before the Airy Mountain port

[abrightboy]

In some ways, Malcolm feels like he's internalized that Will likes him the way he is, for the way he is. But in other ways, it's taking some getting used to, the notion that he can be his weirdest, unfiltered self and he can't scare Will away. Quite the contrary, in fact. Will likes that side of him. He wants to see more of it. Malcolm has felt compelled by habit to keep it tamped down.

He smiles. "I... have to practice on paper first. I can show you a draft tonight," he suggests. "I'm not a good artist to just... free hand it into your skin without practicing."

Re: After the Mood Goo and Fae Portals, before the Airy Mountain port

[empathicfault]

Will knows it's the habit of decades and decades. Luckily, reminding Malcolm that they don't have to act remotely normal is a pleasure.

"I wouldn't trust myself, either- except I apparently didn't care if I messed up your skin in that moment," he says, mildly ruefully. "I'll look forward to tonight, then."

Re: After the Mood Goo and Fae Portals, before the Airy Mountain port

[abrightboy]

Malcolm smiles down at the desk again, opposite hand going to gently cover his marked shoulder.

“Well, these ones were sort of… primal. They’re for those emotions,” he notes. “I want the next one I do on you to be… considered. Thoughtful.” He looks up to Will’s face, opens his mouth, shuts it again, then adds “I know… you appreciate my effort at art, but… I don’t want this to be… hideous,” he admits with a bit of a wince.