Was it really sudden? He'd spent the so much time around Mal, watching him in the quiet hours of the morning, when he studied, seen him when he showered, he dressed. He'd had breakfast with him and dinners - fast food, granted, but still. Really, Mal probably knew him better than anyone else he hung out with through virtue of simply being around him the most. In the end, it was Mal he always came home to.

"Can we have pizza? I think I want pizza," he hummed as they made their way out the front door and into the San Francisco night, his hand moving and tucking into Mal's back pocket, cupping the curve of his bottom while they walked.