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keelywolfe · 5 years ago

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Fluffy Bingo Drabbles

Notes:

As I recover from being sick, I have been feeling very stagnant and uninspired. So! I feel the need to try fulfilling these fluffy bingo prompts from twitter!

The list is here.

Finished:

1. Cold Morning 2. Rainy Nights

Coming Soon!

3. Cuddles 4. First Kiss 5. Family Dinner 6. Swingset

Hope y'all need some fluffy drabbles as much as I do!

Cold Mornings

Twilight was fading as Stretch stepped out onto the back porch, the first smudges of the coming sunrise lighting the horizon. Early enough yet that the chickens didn’t immediately come dashing out of the coop, still tucked away in their cozy little boxes with their heads tucked beneath their wings as they dreamed of juicy bugs.

(Except Nugget. Nugget might be dreaming of world domination, Stretch couldn’t be sure, probably better not to know.)

The patio chair was a little dewy, not so bad that Stretch wasn’t willing to sit on it. His cigarettes ended up on the table, untouched, as he watched the sun slowly creep upward, ready to chase away the lingering chill in the air that was threatening to make Stretch shiver despite his fluffy robe. It was a rare occasion for him to be up first, Edge almost always beat him awake. Only today, he woke too early and not enough tired, slipping out of bed before his restless flopping around could wake Edge. He’d left his husband snoozing, but odds were good that wasn’t gonna last long.

Case in point, the sliding glass door opening behind him. He could smell the coffee before a cup was set at his elbow, steam rising from it into smoky curls in the chill morning air.

“thanks, babe,” Stretch picked up the cup and took a sip, sighing happily at the perfect mix of cream and sugar. A kiss brushed against the top of his skull, along with a faint murmur that was probably ‘good morning’. Coulda been ‘wood scorning’ or even ‘forewarning’. Nonconforming? Context probably mattered and—

Oh.

His orange hoodie clung to Edge with a slightly snugger fit than it did on Stretch, those broader bones of his taking up more room, but it hung lower, almost down to the middle of Edge’s femurs. His very bare femurs, seemed like he grabbed the first thing off the seat of the Stretch’s unofficial ‘clothes chair’ instead of his robe, probably worry-warting and wanting to get downstairs to make sure there was no early morning crisis averting needed.

Because he was a shit, Edge wasn’t wearing his leg brace and the scars from his recent breaks were still lurid against the bone, branching out, obvious and pale. Eventually, they’d darken and blend in with the rest of the bone. Mostly, anyway, Edge had enough other scars to give a good idea of how they’d end up.

Stretch didn’t really want to think about that. He let his gaze linger at femur level, looking over the rim of his coffee cup at the way the hem of his sweatshirt teased its way even higher as Edge sat down with his own cup, knees primly together to better conceal what lay beneath, the brat.

“chilly out here this morning,” Stretch said, idly, just for something to say.

“It is,” Edge agreed and while Stretch dumbly stared, he drew his bare legs up and pulled the sweatshirt over them, resting his chin on his knees as he sat all curled up cozy into Stretch’s sweatshirt.

Edge tended to be a tough ass, whether he was in a business suit or his leather pants, he didn’t really lend himself to vulnerability much. Which was probably why the sight of him, all curled up, his bony knees pushing out against the worn orange fabric and stretching out the material, was so fucking adorable. He had his arms wrapped around his knees from the outside, sleeves falling over his hands like impromptu gloves. Altogether, it made him look smaller and sweetly cuddly and too fucking young to have so much responsibility heaped on him, and the only thing keeping Stretch from yanking him into his lap to let a wandering hand see if Edge had anything on underneath was the fact that it would ruin the view.

Instead, he tore his gaze away, before it could make Edge self-conscious or worse, even more smirkingly teasing, and watched the sunrise instead, sneaking sly little glances over at Edge whenever he could. The coffee was warming, sure, settling all toasty into his magic but those looks at his husband were the thing really cranking his temperature, settling his internal stove at a warm simmer. He wouldn’t mind getting Edge’s furnace stoked before he headed off to work, but there was time for that later.

For now, this was not a bad way to start the day. Stretch sank back in his chair, draining the last sugary sludge from bottom of his coffee cup and when he reached his hand out, Edge took it, gingerly, his slim, bare fingers chilly against Stretch’s as they sat together to watch the sun rise.

-fin

Rainy Nights

“Hand me another pot.”

There were still plenty to choose from, so Stretch decided to go with the Dutch oven, handing it over. Even as he watched Edge carefully position it, a drop of water plonked on his skull, almost right between his sockets.

“think we’re fighting a losing battle here, babe,” Stretch said. This time he went with what he was told was the bottom half of a double boiler, sliding it under the newest sprung leak. He wandered over to where Edge was mopping furiously, nearly tripping over a half-full jar on his way.

“Do you?” Edge said curtly. He wrung the mop out into the sink and started again, attacking the puddles gathering on the tile furiously. Stretch winced, yeah, his baby was mad as a wet hen, which was sort of ironic since the chicken coop was nice and dry. “And what would you suggest as an alternative?” Edge asked as he mopped, “They won’t be able to fix the roof until it stops raining, shall we allow the storm to continue to flood our kitchen?”

Stretch looked around at their kitchen or rather, the shambles of it. Plastic sheeting was taped up or draped protectively over the cupboards and counters, held down by slowly filling pots and pans, the collection of raindrops dripping into each one coming up with a cacophonous melody. Their sturdy, trustworthy roof had betrayed them as the storm surged and the only perk Stretch could come up with was at least it didn’t choose to sacrifice a room with carpet.

That probably wasn’t much consolation for Edge.

“i never have liked swimming, so a pool is out.” He slanted Edge a look. “we could start building an ark, i hear in the aboveground it’s sort of a tradition.”

Huh, guess the wet hen comparison was pretty apt because Edge puffed up like one. He whirled around, mop in hand like a weapon and before Stretch could even come up with a plan to cool his temper, (groveling was a hasty first contender), Edge deflated like a popped balloon. A wet popped balloon and when Stretch reached for him, Edge leaned into his soggy embrace.

“sorry, babe,” Stretch murmured against the top of Edge’s skull. “this sucks, i know.”

“No, it’s all right,” Edge sighed. “You’re right, there’s not much we can do except try to keep the water damage to a minimum until the storm ends.”

Stretch was pretty sure a crew was standing by, waiting for the first chance to haul ass up on their housetop, click click click. “rain is supposed to let up tomorrow, they’ll be able to patch the leak.” Stretch pressed another kiss to Edge’s skull and let him go, giving him a lopsided smile. “could try a round of ‘rain rain go away’.”

Edge didn’t smile, but he inhaled like he was holding back a laugh, “I think my voice is more appropriate for ‘Thunder Road.’”

“split the difference and go for ‘singing in the rain?’” Stretch offered. Another huff of almost laughter and Edge turned away, heading over to dump some of the half-full pots into the sink.

And if he could hear his baby humming very softly, Stretch didn’t say a word, only raising his own voice in song, with the dripping of the water in pots playing backup, “…just singing in the rain! what a glorious feeling, i'm happy again—"

-fin

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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