deck-of-dragons:

Stretch drifted awake to feel of magic from last night night’s activities still swirling in his soul. That wasn’t new or unusual but what was unusual was the feel of a warm body still in bed with him, pressed up to his back and holding him firmly. Had he woken up super early? Why?

His eyes fluttered open. Sunlight streamed in through the window behind him, making an odd pattern of shadows on the floor and model train set on its tracks through the broken and bent blinds – he should really get around to fixing that soon. But that meant it wasn’t early.

“Pink?” he said softly in case his bedmate was still asleep somehow.

“Good morning,” Pink said with his usual cheeriness as if nothing were wrong. He pulled back, giving Stretch room to roll over and look at him. He looked his normal happy self and the feeling Stretch was getting form him through their soul bond was also normal but there was something wrong; he never stayed in bed this long. He was always up at the crack of dawn, ready for the day like a crazy person.

“What’s wrong?”

Pink’s expression faltered for a split second, a hint of sadness (?) making its way through his soul. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Stretch frowned. What should he do? Pink was always the one who comforted him when he was down in the dumps about something. Stretch could probably count on his hands the number of times he’d seen Pink upset in all the years they’d know each other.

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