"You always say that, and it's never true." Neal kisses him lightly, then takes a sip of his wine, savoring the taste and sensation almost without meaning to. He can't help himself. The liquid in the glass shivers lightly as his fingers tremble. "...Do you think I should try it? ...Drawing things from... there?"
“I think it will help,” Malcolm tells him. “If you don’t confront that trauma, it will gain strength from lingering in the shadows at the back of your mind. You process the world through art. Drawing it, making it into dark, complicated pictures, can help you look at it with an analytical eye.”
He brushes his fingers against Malcolm's jaw, traces his fingers up into Malcolm's hair. "I could try."
A slow nod. He bites his lip, then breathes out a laugh. "I was about to say I didn't bring any supplies, but I feel like that's a pretty easy problem to solve."
"It is," Malcolm concedes. "If you want to get started while we're here. Maybe on the balcony, with the breeze in your hair," he says with a smile. "But if you want to wait until we get home, that's okay too."
Neal ducks his head into a genuine smile, tapping his glass lightly against Malcolm's. "It's a date."
The town is charming, but Neal's not surprised. These kinds of towns, the ones near fancy getaways, they're usually curated to be exactly that. But there's actually a nice arts store there and he finds himself caught up in conversation with the owner for the better part of an hour before he finally remembers why they're there in the first place and gets the tools he wants to use.
Which is a little bit of everything, since he's not sure what will work best yet for this. He's never done anything like it.
Malcolm lingers near a rack of different papers, turning it idly, keeping half an ear on the conversation but not advertising his presence. He doesn't want to break the spell and make Neal feel bad for spending so long.
He looks at the bag in his hand as they exit the store. "Are you excited or nervous?" he asks.
"Yes," Neal says ironically. But he looks down at the tidily wrapped supplies, and there's still an air of eagerness around him. "I haven't tried to do any art, any real art, even copies in... months. Since the garden house I told you about, the one I was painting, since that burned down."
"No. Yeah. Of course. I don't... have to watch at all," he points out. "This is for you; you need to be as comfortable and free as possible, first and foremost," Malcolm tells him. "I'm sure I can find something else to do. Somewhere else. In the building. There's lots to do."
"You know... I don't want to watch your hand doing practiced perfection. I want to watch your face while you do something that you love," Malcolm tells him.
Neal sets the supplies down by the patio door before coming back to wrap his arms around Malcolm and give him a lingering kiss. “That would be good. Something light. With something alcoholic on the side. I’m curious what their other offerings are like, with the wine being such good quality.”
“What did you have in mind?” Malcolm asks, his fingers fidgeting idly at the buttons of Neal’s shirt. “…Mohitos? Manhattans? …Vodka martinis, shaken not stirred?”
Neal blinks, surprised and charmed at the same time. “I was thinking something more along the lines of a scotch or brandy, but suddenly the idea of a cosmo is very appealing. And it fits better with a light midday meal.”
“Cosmo…” Malcolm murmurs to himself so he remembers, while he pulls the room service menu out of the table under the phone. “Blistered shishito peppers?” Malcolm asks. “Ancient grain bowl?”
"Shishito peppers," Neal says, perking up with interest as Malcolm names possibilities. He joins Malcolm to look at the rest of the menu, resting his chin on and reading over Malcolm's shoulder. "You should try the Crunch Cake, if you don't think it would be too much for you."
Malcolm grins. "Does it go with a cosmo? Maybe I should order a boozy hot chocolate," he says, tilting his head to glance at Neal's profile where it rests on his shoulder.
"Good point. Maybe save that experiment for dinner."
He kisses Malcolm's cheek before straightening up again, feeling surreal in how normal this is. He opens the door to the balcony, stepping out into the cool breeze and warm sun. It's all too perfect.
Neal shakes his head, trying to shed the feeling as he goes back inside to grab his supplies and set up, including a portable easel.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
no subject
no subject
A slow nod. He bites his lip, then breathes out a laugh. "I was about to say I didn't bring any supplies, but I feel like that's a pretty easy problem to solve."
no subject
no subject
no subject
"Yes we are," he says happily. "When you're ready, just say the word and we'll take a trip into town."
no subject
no subject
no subject
The town is charming, but Neal's not surprised. These kinds of towns, the ones near fancy getaways, they're usually curated to be exactly that. But there's actually a nice arts store there and he finds himself caught up in conversation with the owner for the better part of an hour before he finally remembers why they're there in the first place and gets the tools he wants to use.
Which is a little bit of everything, since he's not sure what will work best yet for this. He's never done anything like it.
no subject
He looks at the bag in his hand as they exit the store. "Are you excited or nervous?" he asks.
no subject
no subject
"Is it... okay if... I watch?" he asks hesitantly.
no subject
Anxiety roils uncomfortably at the base of his stomach. "Maybe... not the first drawing? So I can see how well..."
A vague gesture with his free hand. He feels queasy asking for accommodation.
no subject
no subject
He swallows around the knot in his throat, his voice barely there. "I have to see what I'm even able to do before... I'm ready."
no subject
no subject
no subject
Once back at the hotel, Malcolm glances out the windows at the mountains.
“Should I just order in some room service for lunch?”
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
He kisses Malcolm's cheek before straightening up again, feeling surreal in how normal this is. He opens the door to the balcony, stepping out into the cool breeze and warm sun. It's all too perfect.
Neal shakes his head, trying to shed the feeling as he goes back inside to grab his supplies and set up, including a portable easel.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...