Close
Title: Close
Verse/characters: Rare Birds, Malachi, Paul and Andy
Prompt: 002 - Middles
Word Count: 485
Rating: PG
Notes: Malachi, Paul, and Ren and Stimpy







“Paul, this show is so stupid,” Malachi giggled out quietly, shifting in a curl on his brother’s couch. He pulled at the edges of the blanket wrapped about him, tightening it.

Paul snorted, setting his beer down and patting idly at the side of Malachi’s head. “Have you been listening to Andy? I thought you liked cartoons.”

“I don’t think Ren and Stimpy counts,” a female voice from the kitchen called out.

Malachi laughed again and pushed into Paul’s hand before a yawn seemed to surprise him. “Busted,” he finally managed.

“Yeah well, if she has a crush on that guy in Ghost, I can watch Ren and Stimpy,” Paul huffed. He reached for the remote and turned it down though, mindful of the yawn beside him.

He listened to the sound of the sink running in the background, and the faint clank of dishes. Andy had volunteered to do them to give Paul more time to devote to ‘Guy Night.’ Malachi didn’t drink. Paul didn’t watch Monday Night Football. But both of them felt better calling it ‘Guy Night’ than ‘Big Cuddlefest.’

“Chips and sal—“ Andy started to ask, walking around the couch with an opened bag and jar. She caught sight of Malachi’s face and smiled, lowering her voice. “He’s asleep already.”

Paul glanced down to see, shaking his head. Despite the hair that fell unevenly past his shoulders, Malachi still looked like a child when he slept. Paul had a hard time remembering that his little brother was 21-years-old now.

“You better call Joshua,” he said quietly. “See if he wants to come upstairs and sleep here. He’s not gonna want to wake him up.” With Andy pregnant again, they were looking into a bigger apartment. He was going to miss the convenience of having the boys just a flight of stairs away.

Andy set the chips and jar aside on the pass-through to the kitchen and returned to the couch to crouch awkwardly, holding Paul’s knee for balance. “You’re probably right,” she nodded, touching Paul’s hand and then tucking the blanket a little tighter around Malachi. She looked up with a grin, cheeks flush the way they always seemed to be lately. “He’s worse than my mom when the baby’s sleeping.”

Paul exhaled a short laugh and nodded, knowing full well that every one of them tiptoed around his brother. It wasn’t that Malachi ever objected to being woken up after falling asleep, or to skipping the subway and walking instead, or to being allowed out of the house between October and March without a sweater on. In fact most of the time if given the opportunity he protested Paul and Andy and Joshua’s individual efforts to baby him.

Andy called downstairs while Paul pried himself carefully off the couch and arranged a pile of pillows and blankets next to it. He understood needing to be close all the time.