Inside the wall - Brahms Heelshire x male oc

8

Vincent sits at the table with doll Brahms beside him -- plates and forks in front of Brahms and him.

Malcolm bursts out of the kitchen holding a baking dish full of steaming food. "Ta-da!" He sets the baking-dish down revealing what looks like hot-dogs placed in a kind of uncooked dough. Not exactly appetizing. "Toad-in-the-hole. Just like my mother used to make it."

"Toad?" Vincent questioned, looking at the wall unconsciously.

Malcolm scoops some out and puts it on Vincent's plate, leaving Brahms' plate empty. "Not to worry. Just a name. Our food's so bland, we've been forced to give it exotic sounding names to make it more exciting. If we'd invented the hamburger we'd have called it 'The Gleaming Jewel of Ipswich Sandwich' or something." He sits down, watching Vincent cut half of his food and places it in Brahms' plate.

Vincent takes his first bite, chewing cautiously.

"And...?" Malcolm waited.

"Not bad." Vincent said, glancing beside him at Brahms. He leans down to Brahms. "It's a bit hot for you to eat now, Brahms." He whispers before leaning back against the chair.

"'Not bad'. The highest compliment a British chef can receive." Malcolm said, watching Brahms and Vincent's carefully.

𓉞

Vincent scrapes the remaining food into a big tupperware dish. He hands the scraped dishes to Malcolm who washes them in the sink.

"You really don't have to do that." Vincent said, shaking his head.

"It's no trouble. You will owe me, of course." Malcolm said, taking the chances.

"Owe you one?" Vincent said, turning his head away from Malcolm so he could scrunch his nose. "How about a high-five and I tell you your Toad-in-the-hole was delicious."

"I'm afraid a high-five's not going to cover it. I believe you still owe me a night on the town." Malcolm said.

Vincent's about to reply when -- from somewhere upstairs -- two loud creaks like steps. The kind he'd dismiss as house settling. Vincent internally smiles, knowing who is making that sound as he and Malcolm look up at the ceiling.

Malcolm looks at Vincent. "Well, I'm glad this isn't a big, empty creepy house or that would have been a little spooky, yeah?"

"Yeah." Vincent said, looking away from the ceiling, returning to cleaning up.

"So about this night on the town..." Malcolm said.

"I'll make you a deal. I go out on the town with you in exchange for a little information." Vincent said, rolling his eyes internally. When is this guy going to give up.

"Sounds easy enough." Malcolm said.

"Tell me more about Brahms." Vincent said.

A shift in Malcolm's face -- obviously not a subject he wants to talk about. "I told you about all I know."

"Wow." Vincent sighed out, rolling his eyes for real this time.

"What?" Malcolm questioned.

"That was truly a terrible poker face. Like one of the worst ever." Vincent said, shaking his head.