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Archie looked up from his book (Gorebyss: The Sea’s Most Elegant Killers) as Maxie exited the bathroom adjoining their bedroom. Even while wearing an old maroon tee shirt and boxer shorts with little Numels on them, there was a confident grace in the redhead’s stride that made it obvious he was Someone Of Note as he padded over to climb into bed beside Archie.
Archie marked his page and set his book on the nightstand. “Did I say you could sleep with me, Maxwell?” he said, feigning irritation.
“Shut up,” Maxie replied fondly. He crawled across the purple bedspread and slipped under the covers, curling up against Archie’s side and purring like a tired Vulpix.
Archie wrapped his arm around Maxie, gently rubbing his hand over the black compression garment that covered Maxie’s right arm from palm to shoulder. “How are your scars feeling? Did you stretch enough today?”
Maxie gave Archie a peck on the lips. “Mhmm.”
“Promise?” Archie laughed at Maxie’s exasperated expression. “I know I’m becoming a nag, but I worry about you, Max. I want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself,” he said, pulling Maxie closer so that his lover’s head was tucked into the crook of his neck.
“I know,” Maxie said, nuzzling his nose against Archie’s throat. “I’m never truly annoyed. I… appreciate the reminder that someone cares.”
Archie burrowed his face into Maxie’s blood-red hair to hide his pleased grin. “Good,” he murmured, taking Maxie’s hand affectionately (he was happy to see that Maxie could bend his burn-damaged elbow enough to meet him halfway). “Now, did you remember to take your contacts out?” Archie asked, just to tease.
Archie was surprised, however, when Maxie abruptly pulled out of their embrace, his eyes wide, and grabbed his contact case off the nightstand before disappearing into the bathroom. Archie blinked before letting out an amused sigh. He settled back, the strands of red hair on the pillow next to his reminding him of how disgustingly domestic he had become with the leader of Team Magma.