Tim Drake-Wayne (redrobin) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-01-09 22:49:00 |
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Spencer honestly didn’t really feel up to seeing Malcolm for lunch today. Things through the door were really bad and he was still sore from Tim’s fight with the ninjas and Ubu. There were bruises thankfully covered by jeans and a thin long sleeved shirt and he’d done his best to use concealer to hide the scrapes and bruises on his face and neck. He was exhausted, had barely made it through the morning, but he couldn’t cancel on Malcolm, not when he owed the other man the truth about things. Unfortunately, he’d gotten so wrapped up in just enjoying the moment that he and Nick hadn’t gotten a chance to really discuss things and with everything with Stephanie and Tim, there always seemed to be other things for them to talk about. Still, he needed to tell Malcolm as much as he could, which was exactly why he’d chosen Jim’s diner for them to have lunch. Wanting to get the most out of his lunch hour, he asked Malcolm to meet him there and then afterwards, he’d either drive the man home or pay for car service depending on how the conversation went. He arrived a few minutes early, having misjudged the distance and time it would take to travel from the UNLV campus to Jim’s place. It allowed him the opportunity to take the booth in the far corner of the place where they’d be unlikely to be disturbed because the lunch rush was never really much of a rush at this particular time. Something Spencer had planned carefully because as much as he knew having the conversation was good, he was hesitant to have too much privacy. There was something about Malcolm that made him feel something similar to how Nick made him feel and it was confusing. Malcolm didn’t deserve that. And speaking of, the brunette appeared at the door and Spencer stood, gesturing for him to join him over at the booth. “Hey, thanks for coming,” he greeted, soft but warm. Malcolm had been all pins and needles before coming here. Was he getting his hopes up? Was this where Spencer told him that he’d been wrong, and that day before Christmas, that hadn’t been a date at all? (A dreadful, nasty little voice in the back of his head, one that sounded like every ex he’d ever had, whispered, who’d want to date you, anyway? You’re too much work.) But he’d swallowed the nerves. He had to. He’d meant what he said -- he liked having Spencer as a friend. He didn’t want that to change, didn’t want to lose the comfort of having someone who understood what it was like, having this voice in your head and the key to a door, and the baggage and difficulties that came with it all. He had Gemma, and Jack was becoming a friend, slowly, but Spencer was different. The connection had been so quick. He liked that. Was it greedy to want to keep it? Malcolm suspected he was often greedy. “Wouldn’t miss it,” Malcolm replied, a small smile on his face. He was dressed casually, a pair of dark denims and a soft, comfortable henley, a faded sort of grey that just seemed to make his eyes and hair all the darker for it, the neckline of the shirt hiding whatever was on the leather thong at his neck (he carried his superstitions quietly and close). He shrugged off his black jacket when they got to the booth. But he looked sharply at Spencer as he sat down across from him. “You’ve had a rough go of things, looks like. Are you alright?” There was no hiding how tired he was but he tried valiantly. He didn’t want to worry Malcolm. Of course, Spencer should’ve realized that the other man was far too observant to miss it. “Things’ve been...rough. Can’t do anything about it though so it’s just...dealing with it as it comes. Nothing to worry about though,” he said, despite not knowing if that was true. If Tim got infected with whatever it was Ra’s was distributing, it would infect Spencer too and who knew what would happen then. He was fairly certain that he was going to spend a few days straight through the door until things were taken care of. No way was he going to risk infecting anyone on this side and spreading Ra’s’ misery even further. “How have you been?” he asked, honestly wanting to know how Malcolm’s year had started. They needed to talk, but there was no reason why they couldn’t enjoy themselves a bit first and order their food. The waitress came over to hand them both menus and to ask what they wanted to drink. Spencer opted for a cup of hot tea because even though it was scorching hot outside, he wanted the comfort of some tea. Once Malcolm ordered his and the woman left, Spence added, “This place is my roommate’s so I spend a lot of time here. They’ll give us some privacy to talk, if that’s okay with you?” Sometimes people liked to chat with their waiters or enjoyed a doting waitress, but Spencer hoped talking would be more important. “More than fine,” Malcolm agreed, after asking for the same. He was English. He was capable of drinking tea under any circumstances. “I’m all right. Tired, but I’m always tired. I talked to a doctor, and they made the recommendation I work some meat back into my diet, for the protein. I suppose being vegan’s healthy for most people, but with everything, it’s not enough for me.” “We’ll take it slow,” he promised, in regards to the meat. Of course, that could’ve applied to their upcoming conversation. “Jim’s got the best chicken soup I’ve had in a long time and he goes heavy on the vegetables. Might be an easy place to start?” The broth alone might’ve been enough to ease into ‘protein’ possible. Spencer was just trying to be helpful. The waitress came back with their teas and took their orders, Spencer opting for the soup he’d suggested, before starting to fix his drink. Once the waitress was gone again, he took a deep breath and found he couldn’t quite bring himself to look at Malcolm. “So. I guess I shouldn’t put this off any longer, huh?” He snuck a glance up at the other man, looking for some kind of reassurance that everything would be okay before he got into his life story. Soup and tea. It was going to be a therapeutic meal, Malcolm saw. But he wrapped his long fingers around the mug of tea and nodded, leaning forward, all his attention on Spencer. His face was gentle, and for all the curiosity in his dark eyes, his expression stayed infinitely kind. “It’s alright,” Malcolm reassured him. “We’ve plenty of time. Tell me however you need to.” Not for the first time, Spencer wished he was the kind of man who didn’t have the same kind of morals he did. Why couldn’t he just flirt and forget all about how complicated Nick was while with Malcolm? He managed a slight smile for the other man before taking a deep breath and starting. “It makes sense to start out from the beginning. I grew up in Jersey, on the East Coast, and my father was a reverend, basically really religious. I figured out from an early age that I was interested in men which didn’t really go over well.” That was an understatement, but he wasn’t going to tell Malcolm about the beltings he’d gotten as a child. “As soon as I graduated high school, I joined the Army to get as far away from my father as possible. There wasn’t any chance for me to have any kind of relationship being in the Army because there was still Don’t Ask Don’t Tell going on. It was just easier to not worry about that stuff and a handful of tours overseas made it easy to forget. I got injured though. My shoulder.” They’d talked about that so Spencer took the opportunity to take a breath and then a sip from his tea. “I got put in the reserves after I came back from medical leave and they stuck me in recruiting at San Jose. I met Nick there.” Spencer couldn’t hide the fondness in his voice when it came to Nick. “He’s the first guy I ever fell in love with and we were best friends before I even knew he was gay. When he came out, I-” He shook his head. “We started dating and it got really serious but then I got deployed for a year. We...we tried for the first 17 weeks but it was too much. So we quit cold turkey and I promised to get in touch when I came back.” Spencer couldn’t bring himself to say that he hadn’t done that because he was still ashamed about it. He just focused his attention on his tea and wondered if Malcolm hated him yet or not. “I take it you got in touch,” Malcolm said softly. There wasn’t any judgement in his tone, nothing biting or harsh. It stung a bit. More than a bit. But it wasn’t his place to demand or be upset. Spencer hadn’t promised him anything. “That’s good. Serious relationships ... you can’t just give up on them, can you? They’re important, they make an impact.” That sounded like the right thing to say. He hoped so. Idly, he fiddled with a bit of leather around his wrist, just for something to do with his hands. Well that just made it hard to fess up to the truth. Spencer only shook his head. “I couldn’t,” he whispered. “It had been so long, I thought he’d gotten over me or that he was better off without me in his life. It probably would’ve been fine except I got Tim and he’s got Stephanie and there’s complicated history there too.” He sighed. “And then there’s stuff going on with his twin brother and one of my other friends and I don’t know which way is up with half of this stuff because it’s good sometimes when I’m with him, we just never talk about things. But with you, it’s just...it’s good. It’s so good.” Spence lifted his gaze up to look at Malcolm. “You’re amazing and I thought about kissing you at least half a dozen times that dinner we had together.” Okay, maybe he shouldn’t have admitted that, but it was out in the open now. That was not what Malcolm was expecting, and he blinked once, then again, surprised. “I’d thought about the same thing,” he confessed, then shut his mouth. Not helpful, not helpful, not helpful. He was trying to be gracious. He ought to be gracious. Why was he terrible at gracious? He took a breath and let it out again, trying for composure. “I ... I don’t want to royally cock up your life, and your relationships with the people who matter to you. Or anything for you lot beyond the door. I’m really, really not worth that,” he demurred, and maybe that had a hint of bitterness to it, but he repressed it, shoving it down hard. “I really like you. I really, honestly do. You’re lovely. But I don’t want to cock up things for you. Not ever.” For as much as he knew they clicked, Spencer was still surprised to hear Malcolm had thought the same thing. It made him blush just slightly and duck his head for a moment. Of course, as soon as the other man insisted he wasn’t worth it, Spence reached out to grab his hand. “Hey, you’re not screwing up my life okay? So I don’t want you thinking that.” He paused and gave Malcolm’s hand a squeeze, shifting to take both of his hands in both of his. “Nick and I aren’t together I don’t think, and I don’t know what’s going to happen but I know that I want you in my life and I don’t know what’s going to happen or how complicated it might get. I can tell you that I don’t think I care how complicated it gets. Nick is going through some things that I need to be there for, but that doesn’t change this connection we have that’s just...electric.” He wasn’t going to string either man along, that just wasn’t him, but he did want everyone to be happy. “I honestly didn’t think anyone else could make me feel like this but I’m happy I met you.” Spence gave his hands another squeeze before withdrawing to wrap around his teacup. Touching the musician was a bit overwhelming at the moment. “Really really happy. I want you in my life and...I’m a little scared about what might happen but in the good kind of way. The really good kind of way because I want to see where it goes.” Malcolm smiled, a small, sweet expression that was mirrored in his soulful eyes, dark and deep. When Spencer released his hands, the loss of that warmth was like shutting off an electric current -- he hadn’t realised how bright and crackling it had been until there was darkness to compare it to. He retreated to his own beaker of tea. “I’m happy I met you, too,” Malcolm told him honestly. “I didn’t think ... I’ve had some right disasters in the past, I thought that was just kind of my overall trajectory, but you’re not like that, not at all. You give a damn, which is a lot. And ... and if things with Nick get serious, if you find that’s where you want to go, what you need, then just tell me. I’d rather everyone be honest than try to spare feelings and end up making it worse in the end. We’re all adults here, yeah? Honesty, that’s the thing adults do, that’s the only thing that makes this kind of stuff sustainable.” He didn’t know what to say about the scary-good portion. What could he say? It would be so easy to dive in head-first, and only find the bottom yanked out later. He was glad that Malcolm didn’t regret anything and that he felt the same way. Now he just needed to actually talk to Nick, but how to go about doing that was mind boggling. It was his problem though and he didn’t want to talk about his ex right now. He wanted to enjoy being with Malcolm. “I promise, I’ll tell you what’s going on. I’m sorry, Mal. I’ve never done anything like this before. I try to be really straight with people and after how things were going with us, I knew I had to tell you before things went any farther.” He paused and blushed just lightly. “And I’d kind of like to see if that’s where it goes.” And, because he was missing just the simple touch, he held his hand out for Malcolm to take if he wanted. “Me, too,” Malcolm said, reaching out to take Spencer’s hand again. “I really, really do. You’re just ... marvellous, you know?” This he could focus on, the warmth of Spencer’s hand in his. The little baby steps carrying them ahead, into whatever was to come. That wasn’t head first. That was just letting things develop. They could do that. And maybe ... maybe he’d be surprised, in the end. Wasn’t that worth the chance? “I’m not really a pro at dating or pulling or anything. I’m a pretty ... insular person, I suppose. Haven’t had a boyfriend in about a year now. And before that, it was all fairly long-term things, honestly. So I’m a bit at sea, too. But I like the waves.” He lit up, smile wider than it had been since New Year’s, when Malcolm took his hand. “I think it has a lot to do with you, but something tells me you won’t take any credit for it,” Spencer replied, teasing lightly. The waitress came with their food but Spence didn’t let go. He could eat his soup one handed. Or it could just wait a few more minutes. “I’m not either and it’s only been Nick so...” he trailed off and shrugged. “The waves are probably the best thing I’ve had in my life for a while now. I really like it so far and I want to stay out in the ocean a while longer.” For as long as he’d be able to, honestly. Malcolm smiled, toying a little with Spencer’s fingers. “I used to surf, you know,” he said. “I spent as many weekends as humanly possible at the beach in California. I loved nothing more than the water, and the sunshine, and the waves. I suppose some things don’t change.” “Really? Well. Maybe a trip to the beach might be in order?” They were close enough that it could be a day trip and that wouldn’t be weird at all. Hopefully. It could definitely be fun and a great way to just get away from everything for a day. They didn’t have to surf or anything, or even go into the ocean, but it would be nice to just get out, get away. He glanced at his watch, just to make sure they had enough time to continue their conversation for a little while longer. That seemed to be a theme for them, just a little bit longer. Malcolm’s smile grew even broader, even brighter. “You think so?” he asked, clearly delighted by the suggestion, and his whole face was beaming. “I haven’t been up to a car trip, driving’s bloody hard, but maybe with someone to help share the task, it’d be doable. I miss it, I really do. Terribly.” He squeezed the other man’s hand and nodded. “I know so. And I don’t mind doing the driving,” he offered. “Including driving you back to wherever you need to go after lunch,” Spencer added with a smile. “Though I guess we’d better eat before the soup gets cold and I run out of time before I have to go back to work.” “Yeah,” Malcolm admitted reluctantly, even a bit sheepishly, and he ducked his head, letting go of Spencer’s hand. “The soup looks too good to waste, too. I haven’t had chicken soup since I was a tiny thing.” It was a strange idea, to eat meat again. But a new year, time for new habits. He dipped his spoon into the broth, and went for it, hopeful that Jack’s advice would maybe pay off. At this rate, he’d do anything to feel better. |