Sugar N’ Cyanide

It had been a pretty average day, you’d woken up late- slummed around in your pajamas for a while and then gotten to some hobby-work. You’d sipped on coffee while you painted, painting for hours on end while you sat around in the cabin. You’d instinctively relocated to the sunny bits- the golden warmth drawing you in to bask beneath it.

After giving up on painting, you’d laid on the floor for a while. Just basked in the sun and allowed yourself to just be there on the floor- like some sort of yoga-guru. Shavasana,,,, your mentor would have said. Taking the time to just…be. You giggled, and when you heard the door open- you'd look up at the door to see him standing at the door, shoulders slumped forward as per usual. The mask he wore glimmered slightly in the sun- not unnatural- but a nice sort of reflection. You roll onto your stomach, looking up at him through your bangs.

“Hi hi,,” you yawn, stretching your arms out in front of yourself. He nods and moves to sit down in front of you- but not before stripping off as many layers as he could; his jacket, flannel, boots, gloves, and eventually noticing your lack of pants- joined you in pantslessness.

That's how you two were here now, sitting in your underwear in the living room, basking in the sun. although- you weren't sure that's what Masky was doing. It seemed more like he was basking in your presence- soaking in your warmth and heaving his chest before pulling you up into his lap. You smile, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and tilting your head.

“Bad day, hm?”

He nods, running his hand through his hair before running it down your side- sighing when it reaches a comfortable spot on your hip. You lean in to press a kiss to his masked face- kissing over the black painted lips of the cool plastic. He presses back- eyes closing. You just barely catch them opening when you pull away- noting the unusual gentleness. Most days Mask came home, you’d watch him stomp through the house- shower, then end up pressed into the mattress before there was much you could do about it. He’d take it hard, and roughly- and every time you’d eat it up, absorbing his affections. Then there were these days-

The ones where you could tell he felt like a monster, like he wasn't anything but a nuisance stuck inside the body of your true lover. That he wasn't that. The ones where he’d hold you until his arms fell asleep and then would insist he lay in your arms because something had happened to his pillow. Not because he wanted to be held.

“You okay, baby?” you ask, tilting his head from side to side to check for scratches where the mask met his face- sideburns thick and reaching down the sides of his face. There wasn't anything new- just soft skin fading into stubble. “Youre not hurt, are you?”

He pauses momentarily, and you make eye contact. Dark brown eyes with a soft wilt in the outer corners, his eyebrows seemingly relaxed under the mask. You find yourself nervous- you always were when he was like this. Relief comes in the form of a shake of the head, his hair swishing against the mask as it moves with the gesture.

“Good.” you iterate. Your hands find their way to the sides of his neck, and as he watches you- he hums softly, seemingly enjoying the feeling of your touch. He presses his masked lips against yours again- then to your forehead before resting his chin atop your head.

‘Cant think.” he mutters, voice rough and sleepy. You let out a sound of contentment, leaning forward to hug him tightly. “Yeah?” you ask, pausing for a moment. “You want to go lay down with me?”. This seems to wake him from his dream like daze. He tightens his grip on your hips, pulling you up before struggling to stand up himself. You chuckle softly- and he shakes his head in frustration, throwing you over his shoulder. You gasp and break out in giggles as he hauls you to your shared bedroom, throwing you onto the bed before grabbing his pajamas and exiting the room. One of the first things you’d learned about him was how he didn't enjoy being naked. Especially not in front of you. So you’d made sure he had some nice comfies that only he could wear- and informed Tim of the blue sheep pajama bottoms you’d gifted masky to help with ID’ing him.

There wasnt a single day masky didnt wear those pants at some point or another- usually when he planned on sleeping with you- or felt too lazy to pull on rough fabrics like jeans. Laziness overcomes him on those days. When he walks back into the room- you smile, opening your arms in which he flops down into- shifting to jam his arms underneath your back in a mock-hug that feels like a whisper of ‘don't move, just let me lay here’. And that you did- wrapping your arms around his shoulders momentarily before finding your fingers raking gently through his hair. He begins to mumble- sometimes you can make out certain words- bt most of it sounds like he’s speaking with a rag pressed to his face. You look down at his masked head, fiddling with the stretchy strap in the back. You roll it in between your fingers, and he reaches up to pull it off- setting it to the side as he buries his face against your skin.

After a while, he scoots lower- hands pulling up the hem of your shirt only to push himself underneath. You can feel his breath against your skin and the stubble on his chin scritching against your chest as he gets comfortable. He presses sweet, lazy kisses against your bare skin, relishing in the way your soft skin feels against his bare lips. His hands palm at the fat on your tummy, and his breathing slowly grows heavy. “Yer warm” he mumbles, and you smile, tilting your head as warmth spreads over you as well. “Yeah?” he hums out a low confirmation- and you move your hands to slowly rub his back, pawing at the skin through your own shirt and his. “You feelin’ better, hon?” you ask softly, you feel his hands knead at the skin of your stomach as he nods, breath evening out as he falls asleep. The hand pawing at you slows, then stops as he drifts off against you. You close your eyes slowly, and continue to gently rub at his back before you too, drift off into sleep.

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