Work Text:
Torbek wakes up with a weight in his chest.
No… on his chest.
The single strip of sunlight through the curtains doesn’t do much to brighten the room but he can make out soft blond hair, the tip of a green ear peeking through, and a large orange paw all resting together on the striped surface of his sleep shirt. There is movement by his head and he feels one of Hootsie’s downy feathers against his cheek. It is silent in the house, it must be early… It is also silent in Torbek’s mind, the Other having not stirred for quite a while, since they came back from their adventure. Since they came home. Since Torbek got a home to come home to.
He must be thinking too much regardless, because the bed shifts to his right and he hears a disgruntled little ‘mrrp’ sound as Frost wakes up, flexing his paw, claws digging in and out of Torbek’s shirt. The tabaxi stretches, feet brushing against Torbek’s calves, and uses the hand already on Torbek’s chest to anchor himself closer against the bugbear’s side.
You know… it’s much too early for this… all this thinking… Go back to sleep, my love.
Frost’s monotone echoes in Torbek’s mind and he smiles softly, looking over at his partner’s resolutely closed eyes, though, he too is smiling. Frost’s paw pats at Torbek’s chest clumsily, sleep still ready to take him over despite this wakeful moment.
Go to sleep…
Torbek settles back into the pillow under his head, squeezing his partners close to him, and closes his eyes, drifting off in the warm embrace of the ones he loves (the ones who love him, too.)
When next he wakes, it is to a mouthful of feathers and excited hooting.
“Woah-agh! Hoootsieee, what’s—Oof!”
Being such a rambunctious little darling, the owlbear plunges her (large and heavy) foot directly into Torbek’s stomach and continues on her cuteness rampage.
“Oowwww…” Torbek draws his knees up to his chest and rolls onto his side, trying to stave off the pain radiating in his gut somehow.
“Ah! Hootsie! Darlin’, my goodness, what ‘ave you done to poor Papa Torbek? Go bother Uncle Gideon, come on now! There’ll be pancakes soon, yes, yes! Go on!” Gricko’s voice echoes in through the doorway, coming closer all the while. “Gotcha good, didn’t she?”
Torbek cracks open his eyes to find Gricko’s bright blue ones in front of him. He grins, lovely sharp teeth on display, and pats Torbek’s cheek.
“You’ll be all right, luv! That’s just whatcha get fer sleepin’ in! Now, come downstairs. Breakfast’s almost ready and you know how Auntie Kremy is in the mornins!”
He bustles out of the room, but not before giving Torbek his morning kiss on the forehead. It makes the bugbear feel warm and fuzzy inside, except the part inside where the Other is. He always scoffs somewhere in the very back of Torbek’s mind. But, then again, Torbek doesn’t really notice anymore. He gets dressed (nice, plain, easy clothes, some bought and some made by his friends when they’d finally returned from the Feywild), quickly, well familiar with ‘Auntie’ Kremy’s morning moods, and heads downstairs.
The house is warm and the sunlight from the morning has only increased. Torbek looks outside to see the massive pumpkins glistening still with morning dew and a clear blue sky. A beautiful day, made even better now by the toasty smell of Kremy’s famous pancakes. Torbek does not stop by the kitchen (Kremy is yelling something and he’d just… rather not get himself involved), instead taking a seat at the dining room table next to Frost. He leans down, sliding along his seat a bit, to rest his head on Frost’s shoulder. Frost hums and rubs his cheek on Torbek’s head, only poking him a little with his glasses. He tends to be quiet in the morning, half meditating while still continuing his routine and interacting with their companions.
“Gricko’s outsiiide?”
Frost nods against his head and Torbek fills in the blanks. Most likely wrangling Hootsie, who never quiet in the morning on account of her ever-present zoomies. The two relax in silence, hearing pans clattering in the kitchen mixed with Kremy swearing or calling for Gideon. Sometimes, they’ll catch sight of a blur of green and brown as Gricko and Hootsie run past the glass porch doors. Soon though, they are sitting at the table as well, only waiting for Kremy and Gideon. And—
“Gid, I swear, I swear on your motherfu— On your soul, that if you drop this damn plate, I will kill you.”
“I know, darlin’, I’m kinda lookin’ forward to it.”
“GID!”
Gideon emerges from the kitchen doorway, shit-eating grin firmly in place, with a plate piled high with golden pancakes, held in both hands (like a good boy), Kremy right behind him with all the accoutrements one could ever wish for. Everything is set out, the coffee and tea are also fetched by Gideon, and then they wait…
Until Kremy gets his fill of their expectant faces and says, “Well, what’y’all waitin’ for? Bon appetit.”
Gideon eats the most, of course, with Torbek following close behind, but, while Gideon is somewhat demure over his choice of topping (lots of butter and Kremy-sourced Yonan syrup), Torbek piles everything on with no distinctions. Jam, syrup, spreads, savoury items- he wants it all. Gricko and Hootsie share, dumping an inordinate amount of syrup over their stack. Frost eats calmly, sharing a commiserating glance with Kremy over their smaller portions, though Frost does always have his side of beans. When everyone is finished, they all take their dishes to the kitchen, where Kremy promptly kicks them out (even Gideon) so that he can do the dishes. Sometimes, he lets Frost stay, but otherwise, he would rather “do them my damn self without worryin’ ‘bout you all breakin’ something!”
Today, in the equivalent of spring, on the equivalent of a Tuesday, there is not much to do on the Roslof-LeCrew farm. Gideon lumbers off to his workshop and Gricko sets Hootsie up with an educational program on her FlyPad and… it is a very quiet day.
Torbek ends up on the floor of the library, back against Frost’s armchair where the tabaxi is curled up with a book, with Gricko draped over him, chatting about everything and nothing.
“And then, I says—”
“Gricko.”
Torbek can’t see Frost’s face right now, but he knows his glasses are low in his nose and his golden eyes are staring pointedly at their goblin over the tops of the frames. He also knows Gricko is smiling, he can practically feel him vibrating with joy.
“Yeeees, Frosty?”
He knows Frost is raising an eyebrow and turning back to his book. He feels as Gricko climbs up onto his side, balancing most of his weight on Torbek’s hipbone and thigh so as not to hurt him. He knows the goblin is leaning forward, putting his pointy little chin in Frost’s book and looking up at the tabaxi with fluttering eyelashes.
“Oh, Frosty… am I talkin’ too much? Interruptin’ yer very smart and intellimagent readin’ times?”
“Intelligent.” He knows Frost won’t look up.
“’S what I said, Frosty!” He knows Gricko’s grin only grows wider.
He knows Frost shakes his head. Can feel the tabaxi’s legs tensing, his whole body tightening up really. Torbek keeps still, grinning a bit to himself but still always loving the lead up of this particular event within their relationship. He knows Gricko has placed his hands on the armrests of the chair, Frost’s favourite in the library: a lovely wingback in green velvet.
“Am I, Frosty? Interruptin’ ya… Am I bein’ too loud? Am I bein’—”
“Gricko…”
Ah, the warning. Torbek sighs. Almost there.
“Yes, Frostyyyyy?”
Those gold eyes, like knives now, boring into Gricko’s ever-grinning face.
“Gricko.”
“Frosty.”
“Please… shut up.”
Clawed hands tighten on the chair, the book is ready to be closed. Torbek is waiting.
“Ooh, Frosty! Why don’t’cha make me?”
A growl and a pounce and Gricko is flat on the floor in front of Torbek, howling with laughter as Frost attacks him with a super effective barrage of kisses. He looks over his shoulder at Torbek, still lying on the floor, with a glint in his eye. His Mage Hand comes up to cover Gricko’s mouth and the tabaxi is trying (and failing, miserably) to hold back his own laughter.
“Torbek! Help me shut him up!”
Torbek grins at his lovers and joins Frost’s offensive, attacking Gricko’s (very, very) ticklish sides.
“Ah! Agh! Ahah—Stop! Help! Hootsie, save your papa, help!”
Hootsie deigns to raise her head from the FlyPad but has no time for her fathers’ antics and turns back to her video almost immediately.
“Hootsie!!! The betrayal!! Me own daughter! Me own darlin’ kitties attackin’ me—Agh!”
A few more tickles, many more kisses, and a well-placed raspberry to the neck later, Gricko is a heap of exhausted goblin on the floor, with Torbek curled around him and Frost lying against both of them, back to reading his book.
“Success…” Gricko whispers, voice hoarse from laughter.
“Mm, but at what cost?”
“No cost is too great, Frosty!”
Torbek chuckles and looks at his partners. Thinks about how lucky he is, all the time, but also in this moment…
“You guuuuyyys?”
“Yes, Torbek?” “Yeah, Torbs?”
“Umm… Torbek just wanted to sayyy… that he loves you boooth… like a loooot.”
“Aw, Torbek!!” A burst of energy (love energy *cue Gricko waggling eyebrows*) takes over the goblin and he sits up to wrap his arms around the bugbear’s neck. “I love you too! So much! Ever so!”
Frost turns to hold both his goblinoids in his arms and smiles. “And I love you. And you, Gricko, even if you pissed me off just now.”
“It’s my job to piss you off, Frostykins, because I love ya!”
“Yes, yes, whatever you say, darling. Now, both of you, hold me tighter.”
and they all lived happily ever after…