“Yeah?” Rowan replies, curious.

“Yeah. Use actual words instead’a colors.”

The admission surprises him. Rowan remembers something about Mal saying he didn’t need to think about his old math teacher when he was in bed, which is why he uses colors in the first place.

“How come?”

Mal hesitates, rubs at his eyebrow with his index finger before meeting Rowan’s eyes. He rises up on one elbow, partially leaning over Rowan, the look in his eyes unreadable but determined.

When he answers, his voice is softer than Rowan’s ever heard it before.

“’Cause now I associate red with you… and I don’t ever wanna think of you as a bad thing.”

A lump forms in the back of Rowan’s throat that doesn’t seem to want to go away no matter how much he swallows around it.

“Mal….”

“You always keep your promises?” Mal asks in a whisper.

“Always.”

It doesn’t register with Rowan why he’s asking until Mal’s free hand comes up to cup Rowan’s cheek, warm palm gently resting on his skin.

Time moves in slow motion.

Vaguely, Rowan registers Mal leaning closer, leaning in, but it isn’t until his soft lips are pressed against his own that he realizes what’s happening. He sucks in a sharp breath through his nose, an undignified whimper erupting from the back of his throat. Rowan’s brain finally gets with the program, and he kisses Mal back. Slow and soft and filling Rowan’s entire body to the brim with butterflies and fireworks and cotton candy. Mal’s plush lips moving against his own beat every single scene they’ve ever done. His kiss beats the high of getting him into subspace and making him come by a landslide.

Rowan wants to roll them over, press Mal into the mattress and kiss the life out of him until both their lips are chapped and their spit runs dry, but this isn’t the time. He thinks that maybe Mal needs to be in control right now. Set the pace. Later. Rowan can take over later, because there’s gonna be a later, he’s sure of it. With the way his heart is pounding in his chest and the way Mal’s shifting his weight to straddle Rowan’s hips and get closer, closer, there’s definitely going to be a later.

They kiss for what feels like hours and seconds all at once. Exploring each other’s mouth softly with lips, then more eagerly with tongues, a mutual gasp at the first touch. Mal tastes like fire and cinnamon sugar and something that makes Rowan’s toes curl and his belly twist itself into knots.

When they pull back, Mal’s eyes flutter open slowly, gilded honey even in the dim lights of his bedroom.