Things were going fantastic as far as he was concerned. Dating Quinn was infinitely more rewarding than just being friends. In his spare time, he'd taken to coming up with other date ideas - places he wanted to take the human, things he wanted to show him. He'd been jotting them down in a note app on his phone as they came to him so he wouldn't forget, scrolling through the list whenever he was alone and the human crossed his mind. Up until Quinn called him, over the last four days Malakai assumed that he was just really busy - which was okay, mostly, since Mal had his hands full between playing at the Rabbit and finishing up the seasonal rush of costume orders. It was still too soon to worry about Quinn losing interest, even though the question pulled at the back of his mind with each abbreviated conversation he'd had with him. From that same place in the back of his mind came a bit of urgency to come up with the perfect date idea next time Quinn had some free time. Well, it was easier to ignore the things he left unsaid that way. Push the guilt of that away for another day - life's too short and all that.
The fact that Quinn didn't give him any details about his conversation with Jerry left Mal hanging. He hadn't gotten around to letting anyone else know that they were seeing each other because of it. Not that it would've mattered, probably, but it felt like it would - that Quinn's conversation would inform how they would move forward. Jerry wasn't really acting any differently the last few shows they played, so Mal assumed that everything was okay (not that Jeremiah Peterson was one to act as a gauge on how things were going).
He'd wait for Quinn, deal with the anxiety - but he wasn't going to be pushy.
Of course, when Quinn called asking to come over and talk about something Jerry said, it confirmed Mal's worst suspicions. It was impossible to determine from Quinn's tone how bad it had been. He sincerely hoped this wouldn't be the moment where Jerry had crossed over the point of no return. Jerry said some stupid shit, and Mal was just hoping that the last awful conversation Jerry had with Quinn got it all out of his system. But apparently Jeremiah was an endless fountain of trash. Well, maybe trash was a bit harsh. Not like he hated the guy.
Anxiously in the second bedroom, he worked at his sewing machine with the door open. He would've been a bundle of nerves just waiting for Quinn to show up. It was just Jerry bullshit, no reason to feel so on edge - and yet he couldn't help it. He hated seeing Quinn upset and had every intention of making up for whatever happened.
Malakai made sure the kettle was on just before Quinn was due to come over. He always made sure to have some small comforts stocked for the humans (and others who ate things) that visited. The kitchen table had been completely cleared off for hot chocolate, tea, a big mug, sugar, and marshmallows so it was the first thing Quinn would see when he walked in. It was too short notice to see about food, but he figured Quinn might be interested in ordering something. Or maybe going out, at least to get his mind off of whatever he was about to tell Mal.
He jumped at the sound of a knock at the door, surprised that he hadn't heard the elevator or footsteps, and practically bolted to the front door.
"Hey," he said breathlessly, a sympathetic expression on his face. He'd felt caught somewhere between stepping out of the way and going in to give Quinn a hug - this manifesting itself in a strange mix of attempting to do both with a pained expression and hesitant glance.