With Brody occupied by the Continental Classic, Malakai finds himself with some time off. Which means he gets to sit in contemplative thought in his house, enjoying the peace and calm within, reacquainting himself to the sensations of existing in his own space for longer than a few hours at a time. And when he tires of that, he bakes. Pastries, mainly, but also breakfast casseroles, and sometimes when he's feeling a little experimental, heartier soups and savory pies for dinner.
He hums under his breath, brows furrowing over the latest when familiar, slender hands trail up his sides, curling around his shoulders. "Dream," he says simply, unsurprised when he feels a familiar breath against the shell of his ear, a shiver creeping down his body. "Don't make me burn our meal," he chides, not bothering to turn his head to look at his partner, not wanting to encourage him.
"It'll be fine," he mumbles dismissively, pressing his chest to Malakai's back and nuzzling into his jaw, pressing a biting kiss to his throat.
Malakai swallows hard, feeling the press of Dream's lips against his skin. "If I didn't know better," he manages after a moment, "I'd say you enjoy having me home."
"I do," Dream says simply, trailing his hands up Malakai's arms, lacing their fingers together as he continues to kiss him.
Giving in, Malakai turns his head and Dream immediately reacts, pressing their lips together in a hungry kiss, pulling him away from the stove and pressing him into the counters. Malakai allows this, tangling his fingers in Dream's sequin vest. "Ridiculous man," he mumbles, lips twitching up as Dream pinches his side, affronted.
"I was going to suggest they hold these little tournaments more often, but not if you're going to say such insulting things about me," Dream says, voice low as his eyes glint in the deep purple lighting.
"I think you're right," Malakai says. "At least then this house would look a little like my own." He waves a hand lazily and the purple fades, turns into a muted darkness, Malakai's influence weighing down upon them both.
Dream gasps, glowering at Malakai. "How dare you," he says, snapping his fingers. Immediately some purple bleeds back in amongst the black and Malakai smirks, watching the two colors swirl together, warring for dominance. Neither quite win, settling into an uneasy co-existence, same as he and Dream had done all of those years ago, when they were still getting to know each other, figure out what they were to each other.
"They seem to complement each other," he comments, lips twitching up as Dream slowly turns in his arms, leaning back against his chest to take it all in.
"They do," he admits, enjoying the soft sensations of Malakai's fingers against his skin.
It's not the way most would spend their holiday season, Malakai thinks as he rests his hands on Dream's hips, but he enjoys the give and take they go through to find cohesion after time apart. It's a challenge they both enjoy, that succeeds at reminding them of their bond every time.