In truth, he was worried Neal would get mad at him like before, for not thinking things through or for giving in to peer pressure. He’s relieved and he’s pleased.
He’s mid-bite-of-apple when Malcolm offers, so it takes him a moment of polite chewing and swallowing before he can answer, his free hand immediately going to Malcolm’s elbow again.
“Are you—you don’t have to, if it’s—you said you couldn’t change back and forth whenever, right? If you’re tired or if it’s risky, I can wait.”
"No; I'm okay right now." He turns to go into the bathroom. "I'm just going to do it in there because I don't know if it looks weird or gross but I definitely have to take my clothes off and it probably at least looks weird," he explains before ducking in there.
There's no noise inside, through the open door, apart from the rustling of fabric when he gets undressed, but a few moments later, a light grey wolf with bright blue eyes trots out of the bathroom and into the kitchen to look up at Neal, tail wagging faintly.
“Holy shit,” Neal says softly. He’s not sure what he expected, but nothing so quiet or undramatic. He kneels, apple abandoned to the counter, and reaches out with both hands on instinct to pet him. He stops himself, barely. “Malcolm? Can…?”
He can't even begin to think about how weird this is because right now he's face to face with a (admittedly smaller than average but still) wolf with beautiful blue eyes.
Wolf-Malcolm gives his head a shake that looks more like he's trying to dry it, but wolf necks work differently than human necks. He bounces a little from foot to foot, then turns and runs around the island and then skids through a turn to charge towards the livingroom, leaping clear over the couch before trotting back around to the kitchen to see what Neal thinks about that.
Neal feels a little bit like he’s coming unglued. It’s adorable, and art in motion, and also Malcolm, and those three things together make his brain cramp.
Which doesn’t stop him from kneeling again to scrub at Malcolm’s ruff. “Thank you. For. Showing me.”
Wolf-Malcolm licks the side of his face, then turns around and trots back to the bathroom. A few moments later, Malcolm emerges, finishing buttoning his shirt and looking a little flushed and breathless.
"But it doesn't hurt." He's glad even if he finds it hard to believe. Neal goes to tend to the tea to give himself something to do with his hands while his brain tries to sort itself out. Now that the initial shock and awe is--if not passing--at least not so fresh, other questions are starting to swirl up. "When did it happen? Did Lark just tap you on the shoulder and say 'let's get that taken care of'? When did you decide?"
“It feels weird more than painful. Well, not a bad kind of painful. Like… growing pains. It kind of feels like growing pains. It’s only excruciating the first time,” Malcolm tells him cheerfully.
"Oh, right." He takes a sip of the tea and smiles gratefully at Neal for it. "Um, he called me the other day and he asked if I decided and I told him I was pretty sure I wanted to do it and he said well come over and we'll do it." He shrugs. "I guess I didn't really see the point of vascillating anymore. So I went."
"Time is weird because we went on the hunting trip but Iris' space ship is a time ship." He pauses thoughtfully. "Yesterday. I think it was yesterday."
"Oh." It's understandable, really. He turned into a wolf, then he went hunting, then he had to turn back and was probably tired. It makes sense. And he did call today. "So what happens now?"
“Oh. I don’t know. I’m supposed to train some more with Lark on it.” He smiles hopefully at the question about Will. Like maybe Neal is coming around to him. “Oh, yeah. He came with me.”
Malcolm’s expression falls a little. Neal didn’t like that and he’s not sure if it’s just because it’s Will, even though he brought him up.
“They don’t normally allow it, but I guess Lark knows about Will and dogs. He made him promise not to speak or interfere, though. No matter how much he wanted to.”
But he was there. He was there, Malcolm wanted him there, enough that Lark made an exception to a rule that was already stupid if none of this was really about isolating Malcolm.
Neal nods and drinks too much of his still too hot tea to give himself an excuse for silence.
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In truth, he was worried Neal would get mad at him like before, for not thinking things through or for giving in to peer pressure. He’s relieved and he’s pleased.
“You would? I… I can show you.”
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“Are you—you don’t have to, if it’s—you said you couldn’t change back and forth whenever, right? If you’re tired or if it’s risky, I can wait.”
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There's no noise inside, through the open door, apart from the rustling of fabric when he gets undressed, but a few moments later, a light grey wolf with bright blue eyes trots out of the bathroom and into the kitchen to look up at Neal, tail wagging faintly.
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Hi.
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"Does it hurt? Changing? After the first time?"
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Which doesn’t stop him from kneeling again to scrub at Malcolm’s ruff. “Thank you. For. Showing me.”
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"Still getting the hang of it," he admits.
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“So… when…?”
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"Time is weird because we went on the hunting trip but Iris' space ship is a time ship." He pauses thoughtfully. "Yesterday. I think it was yesterday."
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There’s a hitch of a moment where he almost doesn’t say the next part, but he manages. “I assume Will knows.”
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“They don’t normally allow it, but I guess Lark knows about Will and dogs. He made him promise not to speak or interfere, though. No matter how much he wanted to.”
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Neal nods and drinks too much of his still too hot tea to give himself an excuse for silence.
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