#mal-kun

“Deep breaths Mal… You got this…” He told himself.

The front door opened a few minutes later as Traf entered his apartment. From where Mal was in the bedroom he imagined the young man’s confused face at his unlocked door and then at the post-it note left on the coat hook.

Please don’t freak out, I let myself in to your place. Waiting for you in the room,

Your bae, Mal

Mal was sitting on Traf’s bed cross legged, hands pressed over his eyes. “Damn… he’s earlier than I thought.” He inhaled deeply, held it, and then released the breath with in shaky exhale. Standing from the bed, Mal ran through a mental checklist of his preparations. He smoothed out his shirt, a formal button up left open, and ran a quick hand through his hair. He knew Traf’s routine for coming home. The chances of Traf deviating from it too much weren’t likely, so he still had about two minutes until Traf came to the room. He cringed at the reminder that Traf would also see his hastily written poem pinned to the door.

“Don’t worry about it,” He muttered. “It’ll be fine.” He lit the candle on the bedside table before turning off the light in the room. The single candle glowed warmly by the bed, and Mal felt his heart calm down a bit. He pushed the candle toward the middle of the table gently, hoping it wouldn’t cast weird shadows over his face and ruin the mood.

There was a beeping from the hallway as Traf adjusted the thermostat.

Mal pulled off his belt and unfastened his jeans while pushing them down just enough to be suggestive. Then he moved back to the bed and laid down on his side facing the door. Only a few moments left. He really wish he had a way to see himself, to see what Traf would see when he walked through the door. But he didn’t have time...

“Roses are red, violets are blue, there’s something sweet waiting in here for you…”

“Damnit, Traf… did you have to read it out loud?” Mal propped himself up on his elbow and plucked the rose off the nightstand. He thought once more about all of the dashing and romantic phrases he had practiced, but they all still sounded lame and cheesy to him. ‘Well, the classics are classic for a reason,’ He thought, taking the rose stem between his teeth. He closed his eyes and waited.

The door opened and closed.

Mal slowly opened his eyes, ready to fix Traf with his best come-hither bedroom look, or try to at least. Instead, he got caught by the intense stare Traf had on him and almost dropped the rose out of mouth. Traf placed the poem on his dresser by the door before crossing the room to Mal. The blonde pushed off the bed a little more and pulled the rose from his mouth. Was Traf blushing that hard or was it the candle light? Dark pink splashed across his cheeks and was beginning to creep down his neck.

“Um… happy Valentine’s-” Mal was cut off by Traf’s hug and kiss. He pulled him down on to the bed and rolled them over so Traf could lay beside him comfortably. They pulled away briefly to breathe, but Traf leaned back in to kiss Mal’s cheek.

“I’m sorry.” Traf mumbled with his lips pressed to Mal’s jaw.

“Why?” Mal ran his hand through Traf’s hair. He picked up the rose from where he had dropped it on the pillow. Tucking it into one of the grooves of Traf’s headboard, he turned his attention back to Traf who was chewing on his lip. “Hey…” He ran his thumb over across seam of Traf’s mouth.

“I forgot today was Valentine’s day, and I didn’t get you anything.” Traf sighed.

“You can still get me something.” Mal squeezed Traf’s hip possessively. He watched Traf lick his lips before tracing the line of his nose to his eyes with an attentive gaze. The dark circles under Traf’s eyes seemed worse than usual. “Babe, you look exhausted.” Mal pulled Traf closer.

“I am. I’m sorry…”

Mal hummed. “Cuddles it is then.” He made a show of nuzzling his face against Traf’s neck.

Traf laughed lightly, but pulled away to sit up. “You must be so disappointed.”

“Why would I be?”

“All that build up for nothing.” Traf looked over his shoulder at Mal.

He got a scoff in return. “Nothing? I don’t call your smile and happiness nothing.” Mal took Traf’s hand in his. “Valentine’s is for love, not sex. Well, also sex, but who cares.” He pulled Traf gently so he was leaning over him. “We’ll spend it however we want. As long as you’re happy with it.” Mal drew a finger down Traf’s cheek to his chin and tilted it up. “Do you really feel bad about it?”

Traf shrugged and looked off to the side. Yes, he did; Mal could see that. Probably for his forgetfulness more than being too tired for sex.

“I think you just need a bubble bath, maybe a massage, and some sleep.” Mal said, making it sound like he was listing off ingredients. Traf looked at him curiously. “Then since we’re both free tomorrow,” The suggestion hung heavily in his tone. “I really see no reason why we should leave this bed unless we have to.” His hand slipped under Traf’s shirt, pressing his palm firmly against the small of his back to bring him closer.

Traf smiled as he ran his hand up Mal’s chest. “Don’t suppose you could squeeze dinner in there somewhere?”

“Anything for you, my love.” Mal sat up, allowing Traf to slide into his lap easily. “Don’t recall there being a lot in the fridge when I was putting stuff away though… Do you want me to call take out?”

Traf looped his arms around Mal’s neck. “Sure.” He nuzzled his nose sweetly against Mal’s. “What were you putting in my fridge?”

“Um… stuff.” He was persuaded to continue with a pinch. “I’ve been planning this since New Year’s but I couldn’t decide on one. And then stuff happened and time… So I kinda brought various things over just in case?” He shrugged. Thankfully, Traf was laughing against his chest. “Maybe a good thing I went with simple. Whipped cream was involved in some.”

Traf set him with a look. “Mal, you know I don’t like sweets.”

“Well, yeah, I know…” He scratched nose. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t cover you in some and enjoy.”

“Maybe…” Traf conceded. “You have to make it worth my while though.”

“Of course. But first, you’re due for some pampering.” Mal scooped Traf up in his arms as stood causing the younger man to cling to him. He pressed a kiss to Traf’s forehead. “It was a rush job, but happy Valentine’s.”