Malcolm - Homecoming

Malcolm had two rules. Never come home to a house in disarray. And never enter a cold home. The latter rule was created after he came back from the grave. The chill that crept in felt like being stuck underground or wandering the back alley’s, internally screaming for someone to save him. So now, he refused to allow the cold to seep in anywhere. Especially when it came to someone important.

Inside Lamplight’s home, he lit the last of the candles, feeling the heat from the flames weaving around the room. He had brought a small camp stove to place in the corner, stacking a fresh pile of wood by it. The bed was made up with that thick comforter they preferred, soup was bubbling on the stove, and a large bouquet of greens and delicate white flowers sat in the middle of the table.  Now, Malcolm just had to wait. A feat that Malcolm actually was not all that good at, despite the calm he often projected to the world.

Lamplight had been gone for nearly the full cycle of a moon.  Gone to visit the source of their power and to spend some time with Pen. It was a vacation that Malcolm had urged them to go on, but the second they left the market, he could feel the cold again. It crept in slowly, causing him to wear an extra sweater and rub his arms occasionally. Within three days he found himself pacing, looking up at the lights and wishing he could just hear their voice.  After a week, he woke up shivering and realized that he perhaps did not do well without them. And wasn’t that just something that was unfortunate, given the state of their lives.

So, when the window opened and Lamplight crawled through, Malcolm felt his heart leap, and the tension bleed from his chest. While he was a big propionate of living his own life, the main reason they had not moved in together, he was all too aware that the life he had made with them was something special. Something he feared would slip from his grasp with a moment's notice. It was a terrifying change of pace that he didn’t think he would ever get used to.

“Hey, Lamplight,” he whispered, voice a little gruff.  “Welcome home.”

They looked up at him with some surprise. Though it quickly faded. The likelihood of Malcolm allowing them to set foot in the market without immediately coming to their side, was not low in odds.

Closing the window behind them, Lamplight walked further into the room, taking in the homey atmosphere. “You didn’t have to do all this,” they said. Though, Malcolm felt warmth bloom in him at the look on their face.  He had a feeling they appreciated the lack of cold just as much as he did.

“I have dinner almost ready. A bottle of wine. A large carafe of kafe. And the explicit request of everyone within Artisan Alley to leave you alone for at least twenty-four hours. Which means Kimber will be at the door tomorrow morning with baked goods and Sawyer will most likely be outside your window just on principal.”

Lamplight laughed. “Turner will be respectful,” they pointed out.

“Turner practically threw a clock at my head for coming and speaking with him. I’d say he is hyper fixated on his new shipment.”  Stepping forward, Malcolm took the bag from their shoulder, setting it aside before folding them into his arms.  He felt the last of the tension drift away from him.  “I missed you,” he whispered against the shell of their ear. He felt their hands come up, sliding under his shirt to press flat palms against his back.

“I missed you, too.”

Malcolm felt tears prick his eyes as his throat threatened to close up on him. He wasn’t willing to let them go. Not yet. It wasn’t until that moment that he realized how on edge he had felt without them. Like a piece of himself had been drifting further and further away. But now that they were back, the world was drifting towards color and the lights were a bit bright. And the warmth, oh the warmth, it spread through him like wildfire.

“You alright?” they asked softly.

He nodded against their shoulder, gathering the pieces of himself that had been flung apart.  When he pulled away, he gave them a watery smile. One in which they returned, cupping his cheek.  

“You know,” he laughed. “I never thought I would be the guy to miss his partner as much as I did.”

“I could feel it,” they said softly. “Your longing.  I almost came home several times.”

“No,” he said with a frown, turning to kiss the palm of their hand. “I wouldn’t have liked that. It was important for you to reconnect with your higher self. And Pen has been trying to get you to come see them for a long time.  This trip was good for you, Lamplight.”

“But you missed me.”

“I will always miss you. And remember what we talked about? Two things can be true at once. I can miss you terribly and still want you to take time for you.  I think the entire ordeal shocked me. I hadn’t expected to feel like I did.”

They did not look satisfied with his answer and Malcolm knew that it was going to be a stubborn battle between them the next time they had to go home. But tonight, it could be left at that.

“Come on,” he said. “You need a good home cooked meal. And I want to hear everything about your trip. The lanterns are brighter. A few new ones are popping up in the Outlands.”

They bounced a little on their feet before sitting down at the table, watching Malcolm intently go around the kitchen, serving them a bowl of soup and a hearty glass of wine.

“It was strange,” they told him. “Pen and I worked a lot on trying to control the flow of energy between this body and the higher one. I was hoping you would notice the lights, though. I sent them for you.”

“I noticed,” he smiled. “I ended up falling asleep on a rooftop terrace just to watch them.”

“I tried to shift the colors. I was thinking for this year's Renewal Festival I would try and make them all change color at once. Symbolic of the new calendar year starting.”

“Do you think that would be too much for you down here?”

“I don’t know. I have time to figure it all out. I’m excited though. I have so many plans. Getting in touch with myself has been easier than I anticipated, and I’m actually excited to try new things. Change up the world a little.”

“That’s fantastic, Lamplight.”

A concerned look grew across their face then. Setting their soup aside, they rounded the table, scooting Malcolm’s chair out and straddling their lap. “I don’t like leaving you,” they said seriously. “It feels like something is ripped from me.”

He smiled at her sadly. “Byproduct of being in love, I would suppose.”

“Byproduct of being tied together.” They sighed. There was really nothing they could do. Lamplight could perhaps take him with them the next time, but Malcolm’s place was not there. It was down in the Market, protecting what they had made together. “Thank you,” Lamplight said finally. 

“For what?”

“For keeping it warm in here. It was cold up near the stars. I… It’s hard to be cold like that.” Malcolm felt them shudder in his arms.  Brushing his fingers at the base of their neck, he nodded, kissing the corner of their mouth gently.

“Come to bed with me,” he requested.

Lamplight pulled back, forehead resting against his own. “You’ll stay?”

“Until you kick me out.”

If possible, their hold tightened further around Malcolm. “I don’t think I could ever ask you to leave,” they whispered to him. And Malcolm knew, he knew, that they would both eventually need their space. That they had their own lives. But tonight, he wanted to indulge. To be the kind of man that couldn’t live without them. So, he carried them to bed, wrapping himself tight around a familiar body.  And for once, he vowed to himself to never let go. Because the simple fact was, he didn’t have to.