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"You okay, kid?" Gil asks, warmth and worry suffusing the quiet words as he slips behind Malcolm where he stands at the window. The soft glow of the courtyard lights below provide the only illumination in his childhood bedroom. Gil wraps his arms around Malcolm's waist, pressing a kiss to Malcolm's temple as their bodies instinctively lean into one another.
It still delights Malcolm that this casual intimacy between them somehow developed so naturally. While Gil has always been a very tactile person, the ability to give and receive affection has been a battle that Malcolm has been waging since he was ten years old.
For nearly a year after Martin's arrest, Malcolm couldn't bear to be touched at all. The smallest gestures — a hug from Jessica, a pat on the back from Gil — would send him into a full blown meltdown, hyperventilating, crying in jagged sobs, and hiding himself away in the nearest small space he could find. Even once he'd moved beyond that initial fear and panic, he found himself cringing away from contact with others, unable to stomach the thought of anyone touching him.
Now, though, he can't imagine not having Gil's touch in his life everyday. The warmth of his husband's body, pressed up behind him and wrapped around him — a shield and a sanctuary, a refuge from the demons in his mind — has become such a vital part of his life that he's not even sure who he would be without it.
He hopes and prays every day that he'll never have to find out.
The tinkle of glassware and conversation floats through the halls from the dining room, the soft sounds occasionally punctuated by warm bursts of laughter that wrap around Malcolm like a blanket. For nearly two decades, the Milton family home has been in grieving, despite their best intentions. This is the first Christmas in far, far too long that the merriment of the season has found its way inside, love and good cheer lending a warmth to the cool and uninviting manor.
In the in-between spaces, when the din of the meal quiets down, the guests presumably enjoying the professionally catered turkey dinner with all the fixings (and Jessica truly did ensure that all of the fixings were provided, with multiple courses and a sidebar full of perfectly prepared dishes to pass around the table — family style, at Ainsley's insistence), Malcolm can hear the quiet strains of Bing Crosby's 'I'll Be Home For Christmas' drifting through the house.
It's funny, he thinks, how all of the romantic yuletide songs that he's heard his entire life — songs that he knows the words to if only from their incessant play in every store for the entire month of December, and, much to his dismay, occasionally even November — only started meaning something to him after he'd started dating Gil. Suddenly, those sentimental verses about love and home began to resonate with him in a way they never had before.
He takes a deep breath, letting the spicy scent of Gil's cologne fill his lungs and warm his heart, not quite ready to answer Gil's question just yet. Instead, he pulls Gil's arms tighter around himself, enjoying the feel of the firm body behind him, snuggling into him as he looks down into the courtyard below. On a day like this, filled with so much joy, it's easy to remember all of the good times that he and Ainsley had growing up in this house. Before Dr. Whitly was arrested. Before they'd ever heard of The Surgeon.
They used to play pirates out in that courtyard, Ainsley dissolving into a fit of giggles as she'd force Malcolm to walk the plank — a piece of scrap wood from a kitchen renovation, laid up against the ledge of the garden fountain to add that necessery element of danger — at the tip of a plastic sword.
They used to have picnic lunches out there, just the two of them, while Martin was at work and Jessica was attending board meetings for the various charities to which she belonged. Cook would make them a simple lunch of sandwiches (with the crusts cut off, even if Malcolm claimed to be much too old for that; he secretly loved it, though, and loved her for doing it), sliced up raw veggies and chunks of fresh fruit, and some sort of sweet treat that they would all agree in hushed whispers and exaggerated winks to never tell Jessica about. He and Ainsley would sit there for hours, picking at their snacks while he read to her from one of her favourite books, trying his best to imitate the way Martin read to him, with an overabundance of charisma and an unparalleled enthusiasm.
He smiles as the memories wash over him, spectres of their younger selves lighting up the courtyard below.
Gabrielle has been saying it for years, but it's only now that he truly realizes he has a tendency to focus on the negative aspects of his childhood — which, he thinks, can be forgiven, given the circumstances. But there really are a thousand wonderful memories in this house, and he's ready to make a thousand more, knowing they'll be spending more time here very soon.
He turns in Gil's arms — Gil, who is patiently waiting for him to answer, giving him the time he needs to organize his thoughts while letting his stalwart presence convey to Malcolm that he's not alone — and smiles up at him.
Gil's been worried about him. Again. They thought he'd been battling a nasty flu that had hit him hard and fast, and considering how little he eats and sleeps to begin with, it's definitely been taking a toll on his body. He's spent most of the last few weeks at home, nursing cups of tea and trying to keep down a handful of soda crackers. He knows he looks terrible; dark smudges under his eyes, deep enough to look like bruises, and he's lost weight that he really couldn't afford to drop, leaving him gaunt and looking unmistakably ill. He knows it frightens Gil more than he'll admit, after watching Jackie fade away in much the same manner.
But today…
Today he feels great.
Yesterday, the doctor wrote him a prescription to help with the nausea and, thanks to that miracle pill, he hasn't thrown up at all in nearly 24 hours. He even managed a few spoonfuls of soup at lunch. He didn't leave the festivities to be sick, like he knows Gil assumes. He just needed a moment to gather his thoughts and decided his old bedroom was as good a place as any to reflect on his life, both where he's been and where he's going.
"I'm great. Perfect. One hundred percent," he says, standing on his tiptoes and leaning in to press his lips to Gil's. Nearly two years of this and his heart still flutters with every kiss, butterfly wings flapping lightly against his rib cage.
The kiss is brief, and as he drops his feet flat to the floor, he looks up at Gil with a mischievous glint in his eye. Recognizing the look as trouble, Gil raises a suspicious eyebrow, but a small smile tugs at his lips, no doubt pleased to see Malcolm with a little more life in him.
Malcolm can't help but chuckle at the thought of just how accurate that is.
"Can I give you a present now?" Malcolm wraps his arms around Gil's waist, clasping his hands at his lower back and tugging him closer.
"It's not Christmas Day for a few hours yet," Gil says quietly before pressing a gentle kiss to Malcolm's forehead. "And I didn't bring any of your gifts with me."
"It's fine," Malcolm assures him. "This one is for both of us anyways."
At Gil's nod, Malcolm takes a step back, regretfully disentangling himself from the warmth of their embrace. To keep the smallest bit of contact between them, he trails his fingers down Gil's arms to take hold of his hands, loving how they envelop his own.
"I love you," Malcolm begins, a sense of peace settling over him as he looks into Gil's eyes and sees a depth of love and tenderness there that he knows is for him, and him alone.
"I love you, too, kid." Gil's eyes crinkle as a heartfelt smile graces his features, and Malcolm is struck by just how beautiful the man is, and how lucky he feels that Gil chose him.
"There are so many things that I never thought I would have in my life. That I never thought I deserved. And then you showed me what my life could be, what I could be," he feels the tears well in his eyes, so overwhelmed with the love he feels, and he wipes them away with a small chuckle before continuing. "You've made everything about my life better since I was ten years old. You saved me so many times; protecting me from Martin, from other kids, from myself. You've always been my anchor and my safe harbour. And our child is going to be so lucky to have you as a father."
He shifts his right hand to his stomach — though there's no sign yet of the life that's growing inside of him — and Gil's eyes follow the movement, a dawning realization lighting his features as the words sink in. Malcolm huffs a breathy laugh as Gil's jaw drops, wide eyes darting from Malcolm's stomach to his face, searching for confirmation that he hasn't misunderstood what Malcolm's saying.
"We're pregnant," Malcolm says through happy tears that just won't seem to stop.
"We're…" Gil seems to be at a loss for words, and Malcolm can't blame him. He took the news much the same way the day before, when the doctor declared that he was pregnant.
"Gonna be daddies," Malcolm nods, finishing the sentence for him.
Between one breath and the next, he's wrapped up in Gil's arms, pulled so tightly against him that he can feel the hitch in his husband's chest long before he hears the stuttered catch of his breath or feels the tears that dampen his collar. He holds Gil just as firmly, fit to burst with the sheer amount of joy that's spreading through his body.
They stay that way, wrapped in each other's arms, for several minutes, until eventually Gil pulls back and brings his hands to softly cup Malcolm's face. "Are you sure?"
"Found out yesterday," he says simply, "I went to the doctor while you were meeting with the commissioner. Apparently it wasn't the flu, it's morning sickness, and she gave me something to help with that."
If he could find a way to keep that smile on Gil's face for the rest of his life, he would be willing to sell his soul to make it happen. He looks absolutely ecstatic and Malcolm is even more excited for what's to come because of it. Spending the rest of his life with Gil, raising their child together, having the family that he never thought he could — it's all of his wildest dreams come true, and it's all because of the man in front of him.
As if Gil knows what he's thinking, he leans in and kisses him again, a soft brush of the lips that makes Malcolm feel completely adored, like he knows Gil intended.
"Did you want to tell everyone tonight?" Gil asks when they finally break apart, though they remain pressed against each other as if they can't bear to let go.
The most important people in their lives are just down the hall, no doubt wondering where they've disappeared to during the middle of Christmas dinner. A few weeks back, Jessica graciously offered to have the team over for Christmas, so that Malcolm would be able to celebrate the season with all of the people he loved. It meant more to him than he could say, but Jessica seemed to understand, merely pressing a kiss to his cheek and diving immediately into the details.
JT and Tally were more than happy to take a few hours away from their rambunctious toddler, leaving him with her mother for the evening. Tally was delighted to have a reason to get dolled up and thanked Jessica sincerely for inviting them along. JT grumbled about having to wear a suit, but Malcolm could tell from the moment they walked through the door that he was just as pleased as Tally for an evening that didn't involve horsey rides and cheerios.
Dani had required no convincing at all, saying there was nowhere else she'd rather be than celebrating the holidays with her family. Having his best friend around for Christmas was the (second) best gift he could have asked for.
"What do you think?" Malcolm asks, having given no thought to anything but telling Gil the happy news, but realizing that it would make it a one-and-done if they announce it tonight, while everyone is gathered around the table.
"If it's alright with you," Gil says slowly, parsing the words as he speaks, like he's still working through exactly what he wants. "I'd like to keep this for us. Just for tonight."
Malcolm finds he likes that idea quite a bit. Though he knows that their family and friends will be thrilled for them, he likes the thought of the baby being their little secret, just for a little while. He smiles his agreement and intertwines his fingers with Gil's as Gil angles them towards the door.
"I suppose we should get back before Jessica sends out a search party," Gil says, leaning in to drop a quick kiss to Malcolm's temple.
Malcolm chuckles, knowing Gil is only slightly exaggerating, and they make their way back to the dining room, the hum of conversation growing louder with every step.
He pauses at the doorway, taking a moment to observe the people that make up the entirety of his world. Ainsley and Tally are deep in conversation about something that makes his sister's eyes twinkle with genuine amusement as Tally stifles a laugh with her napkin pressed to her lips. JT throws a halfhearted scowl their way, but can't seem to hide the smile that's trying to break through as he listens to the women talk. Dani has moved from her own seat to sit next to Jessica, taking only her glass of wine with her as she speaks with his mother, both women looking completely at ease and comfortable with one another in a way that none of their little group ever would have expected.
With the man he loves more than anything at his side, it's more than he ever could have hoped for.
And next Christmas, he realizes, there will be a new addition to their family gathering. A new life that will, hopefully, take the best of them both, and will most certainly grow up knowing only love.
"Malcolm, darling, is everything alright?" Jessica asks when she notices him standing in the doorway, all eyes at the table turning to him and Gil.
"Everything is perfect, mother," he says with a smile. "Absolutely perfect."