itsladykit:

Oh, man. You caught me at the absolutely worst time—I am craving fluff and I cannot resist this prompt. (Or the best time, depending in your perspective.)

Papcest below:

Cash busied himself in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for stir-fry. He’d been skeptical when Edge had dared him to give cooking a try, but he had to admit, it was strangely satisfying. And it was nice not having to listen to Twist bitch about eating take-out five nights in a row.

While he worked, he started humming quietly. He honestly didn’t even realize he was doing it until the humming turned into soft singing. He stopped as soon as he realized he was doing it. He paused his chopping and listened intently. Twist and Slim were home, but last time he’d seen them, they’d been sleeping together upstairs. Emphasis on the “sleeping”.

The house was quiet. They were likely still sleeping. He could easily…. Refocusing on the vegetables, he allowed himself to resume his quiet singing.

He was good, and he knew it, but it wasn’t a skill he could take pride in. It was just so…Tale-verse. He’d rather keep it to himself. Though there were times when music seemed to well up without his consent, threatening to burst from him. He usually swallowed back the urge, but confident in his privacy, he was happy to be given the chance to let loose. A small smile tugged at his mouth, and his shoulders relaxed, contentment causing his soul to thrum.

After his brother died, after the human came through and destroyed everything he’d ever known…he’d thought his life was over. He’d thought there was nothing more for him. His soul swelled, warmth flooding him as he reflected with gratitude on the life he’d built with Twist and Slim. He’d never imagined he could be so…happy.

“Pretty song, sweetheart,” Twist said, startling Cash enough that he nearly lost the tip of his finger. “I didn’ know ya could sing.”

Blushing a brilliant purple, Cash spun on his toes, only to realize it wasn’t just Twist in the doorway—Slim stood beside him, smiling softly. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a garbled protest, earning a raised brow-bone and a concerned look. “you okay?” Slim asked, stepping into the kitchen.

Swallowing his embarrassment, Cash lifted his chin. “i’m—“ He stopped. Cleared his throat. “i’m fine. what are you two doing in here? isn’t it your nap time or something?”

Twist and Slim exchanged another look. Then they both slipped into the room, coming to stand on either side of him. As always, Twist was bolder—he actually slipped his hand under Cash’s hoodie, clasping the top of his iliac crest. “ ‘s matta, sweetheart? Yer lookin’ a little tense there.”

“fuck off,” Cash snapped at him, “i’m trying to make dinner, you asshole.”

Slim just stood beside him, close enough for their arms to brush. “…your voice is nice,” he said quietly, “you should sing more often.”

Cash’s cheekbones flushed. “i wasn’t—“

“He’s right, sweetheart. Yer voice is—hnnn real nice. ‘S real nice.”

Still blushing, Cash looked between them. Then he lifted his chin. “of course it is.” It was the only thing he could think to say. “you expected anything less?”

His lovers shared another significant look, both of them smiling. Before he could get offended, though, Twist leaned in and nuzzled his cervical vertebrae, then kissed along his jawbone. He settled his other hand on Cash’s sternum, murmuring, “Never, darlin’. Jus’ disappoin’ed ya didn’ wanna sing fer us sooner.”

He swallowed, trying to remain stern and unaffected…but heat spread outward from his soul and magic pooled in his mouth. “i wasn’t singing for—hgn—you. i was—“

“would you?” Slim stood in front of him, one hand clasped around his and the other resting low on his ribcage.

Cash swallowed tightly, looking between them. “well—“

Mischief sparked in Twist’s eyelight. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he said to Slim, “bet ya we can get ‘im ta sing fer us, yeah?”

A slow smile spread across Slim’s features. “i think we can,” he said.

Needless to say, dinner was late that night.