The swordsman snickers. "Well, cook, as you can see, I have a couch here, a tiny pillow and a blanket." He points to the items as he says them. "But sorry, no bolster." He shrugs.
The cook turns away, pouting, frowning, sulking, crossing his arms over his chest.
The swordsman gives a sigh and goes over to the couch. "Idiot. Whatever. I need a break anyway." He picks up a cold moist towel from a bowl by the couch and wipes himself.
He then unfolds the blanket, props up the tiny pillow by the armrest and stretches himself along the couch.
Then he looks at the blond, still standing motionless by the window.
"Hey cook!" he calls out to the sulking blond, motioning with both hands. "Come here."
After hesitating for several seconds, the cook walks over into the outstretched arms and climbs onto the couch.
The swordsman pulls him to the inside, adjusts their positions as he tucks him snugly between the backrest and in his arms, and pulls the blankets over them.
"Is this better, princess?" he says calmly as he pats the blond's hip.
"Fuck you!" He flinches.
"Not tonight, baby," he whispers into his ear. Pat. Pat. Pat.
"What baby?!" He looks up. Azure eye meets hazel one.
"There, there. Go to sleep now." A firm hand pulls the blond head back to its previous position, cradling him. Pat. Pat. Pat.
"I'm not a baby!" He hits the broad scarred chest in front of him.
"Shhhhh. Close your eyes." Pat. Pat. Pat.
"I hate you, marimo."
Pat. Pat. Pat.
"..."
A firm leg is sandwiched between two long ones. The blond head, buried under the neck of the green head, his cheek resting on his own hand, with a bicep as pillow. He breathes in the scent of musk, sweat and steel in a slow relaxed rhythm. One slender arm snakes around the muscular torso.
The cook lets out another yawn before quickly falling into a peaceful, restful sleep.
END
YOU ARE READING
Bolster
FanfictionThe cook disturbs the swordsman on watch because he can't sleep. He needs his bolster - it is big and warm and fluffy.
