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Pure Vanilla liked to sleep. As busy as he was, and as difficult as it could be to fall asleep at night, he found that he often took a mid-afternoon nap, knowingly or by accident. His (frequently accidental) favorite napping spots were the gazebo in the flower garden, the comfy chair by the fireplace in the library, and the plush couch in his private study.
He was never disturbed, even if found. ‘He's much older than all of us, let the former king sleep,’ the castle servants would say to each other, in hushed and giggling whispers, whenever they stumbled upon the resting ancient hero.
Shadow Milk, even older, would be lying if he said he didn't occasionally fall asleep midday, as well. But, unlike Pure Vanilla, his resting places were hidden, less accessible. Like a cat, he hid himself in inconvenient places to sleep, away from prying eyes, prodding hands. In the branches of trees, the tops of bookshelves, under tables. Places where he wouldn't generally be bothered. And if, Witches forbid, some poor cookie did disturb the Beast…
They usually didn't escape without being covered in blueberry inkstains, fear in their eyecings.
But today, Shadow Milk was feeling restless. He didn't want to sleep, not for a second. No, today, his dough ached to be a mischief maker. Even more so than usual.
He had snuck dye into the laundry, leaving the sheets and towels speckled in blue. He poured a healthy dose of pepper into the soup the castle cook had been making when her back was turned. That one was quite funny, he didn't think the kitchen staff would ever stop sneezing. And he had used his ventriloquism skills, throwing his voice and making two poor maids think a candlestick was insulting them.
All quite fun little pranks, but it just wasn't enough. The little cookies that worked in the castle would react to his tricks, sure, but none of them did anything unpredictable or different. They were good for a quick laugh, but there was no long-term joy to be had in pestering them.
The most fun he could have with another cookie was with the very thief of his Soul Jam. The one who had brought him here in the first place.
Pure Vanilla.
He began his search, first by checking the garden. Pure Vanilla was always pestering him about taking a walk on the garden path, and Shadow Milk had caught him out there on more than one occasion when he should have been inside. But, today, Pure Vanilla was absent. He must have already done his morning bird feeding…
Next, the library. Pure Vanilla spent quite a bit of time there, too, long into the night. Shadow Milk had spied on his other half many a time as he dozed off while up reading. And, because he was such a benevolent Beast, he always went to the trouble of using his Other-Realm to transport the sleeping Vanilla to bed. Not that he cared about him, of course not! It was merely to prevent Pure Vanilla from complaining about his stiff back from sleeping upright, if he left him in the library. Plus, Pure Vanilla was always confused about how he got back to bed, and Shadow Milk found that to be quite hilarious.
Finally, the study. And this time, Shadow Milk was successful. Pure Vanilla lay on the plush couch, his eyes closed. Hat and cape had been set neatly to the side, and the healer's breathing was steady.
Shadow Milk floated over, observing Pure Vanilla. What would be the best way to toy with him? He could shrink down to the size of a bug, crawling through Pure Vanilla's robes and making him think a creepy crawly had snuck its way up his dress. He could start up a sudden, rousing musical number to startle the healer awake. Oh, he could-!!
“Shadow Milk..?”
Damnit.
He looked down. Pure Vanilla's eyes were closed, as always, but his seeing-staff (leaned against the wall) had its sleepy eye fixed on the jester. Shadow Milk straightened his posture, crossing his arms.
“Shouldn't you be working?” He inquired with a raised brow and a smirk. Pure Vanilla huffed, cracking his blue eyecing open slightly to peer up at his ‘guest’.
“Yes. I know, I have things to attend to, but…” he shifted slightly, covering a yawn with the back of his hand. “I couldn't keep my eyes open a second longer.”
“That's what happens when you're elderly, dearest ‘Nilla,” Shadow Milk taunted, hands on his hips. Pure Vanilla huffed a soft laugh.
“I suppose you'd be the expert on that, wouldn't you?” He quipped back. Shadow Milk's eyecings widened. How dare he…??
“You-!!” He hissed, but stopped when Pure Vanilla held his arms open. He still looked sleepy.
“I know what you're here for. Come on. I'll hold you, we can rest together,” Pure Vanilla offered, with a sweet and sleepy smile. It made Shadow Milk want to gag. No, he most certainly was NOT there to… to… to cuddle!
“Are you sure you aren't going senile, old man?” He responded, crossing his arms again as he turned his nose up at the suggestion. Hopefully, Pure Vanilla's poor eyesight would prevent him from seeing Shadow Milk's blushing cheeks. Pure Vanilla didn't back down, gesturing for Shadow Milk to bring it in.
“No one will barge in on us. It's alright. This is as good as your other napping spots in the castle,” he reassured. Shadow Milk stared down with intensity. How did Pure Vanilla know about his preference for napping in seclusion..?
“Surprised? You've given quite the scare to several of the castle staff that have woken you during a nap. Of course I would know about it,” Pure Vanilla's dual-toned eyecings opened partially. He looked tired, but still radiated comfort and warmth and understanding. “So, please, indulge me. Let's rest together.”
Shadow Milk floated there, weighing his options. To let his guard down and allow Pure Vanilla to hold him, or to storm off as usual. It almost didn't matter. Rejection after rejection, the infuriating healer continued to try and get closer. Blah blah blah, ‘understanding each other’, blah blah.
He had been hurt countless times in the past. Who was to say that, as soon as he gave Pure Vanilla an inch, he wouldn't take a mile? If he decided that, once he had Shadow Milk in his grasp, he no longer wanted him? The Beast had, subconsciously, been enjoying the continuous cat-and-mouse. Every cookie wanted to be wanted, and Pure Vanilla's wanting was part of the reason he stuck around at all.
“Hmf! Fine, I'll do it. But I won't enjoy it!” He responded, lowering himself to lay on the couch alongside the taller cookie.
Warm. Pure Vanilla was pleasantly, perfectly warm. Shadow Milk had never had good jam circulation, and his hands and feet had always been icy cold. Now, in this new body, his heat retention was even worse. So Pure Vanilla's radiant warmth was extremely… extremely enticing. Intoxicating, hypnotic, pulling Shadow Milk closer…
“Would you like to spoon?”
The words caught him off-guard. His eyecings flew open wide, and he gave Pure Vanilla his best ‘are you actually crazy?’ look.
“Excuse me?”
“Ah, that's what the young cookies call it these days, right? ‘Spooning’?” He inquired with an innocent tilt of the head. Shadow Milk's eyes narrowed. Oh, Pure Vanilla was toying with him. Of course the healer knew what spooning meant, he was just playing it up, feigning ignorance, hoping to catch Shadow Milk off-guard enough to--
“Fine.”
The word left his mouth before he even realized it. Pleased, Pure Vanilla had Shadow Milk turn over, before pressing his warm body against his back. One arm came around Shadow Milk, hugging him close.
“What do you think you're doing?”
“Hm?”
“You think I'm a… a little spoon?!”
Pure Vanilla chuckled warmly. The sound grated on Shadow Milk's earcings.
“Oh, my mistake, I had just assumed. Would you like to switch positions?” He asked, tone light with amusement. Disgusting! How dare he be amused by such transgression! He had half a mind to reach up and claw Pure Vanilla's pretty face, to tear off that unassuming little smile.
…But he didn't want to swap. That was the problem.
He had only spooned a couple of times, long ago, when he was still the Fount. His previous partner was much larger, much warmer, and with six arms; it had only made sense for Fount to be the little spoon. But, Witches-damnit, he couldn't deny how much he enjoyed being held like that. Shielded from the world, from the masses, the constant questions, the prying eyes…
“Hrmf. You've already warmed my back, so if we swap, it'll be too cold!” He responded with a huff. Pure Vanilla, though he couldn't see it from this angle, could easily imagine the pout on Shadow Milk's face. He was far too proud to admit that he did, in fact, prefer to be the little spoon.
The room descended into a peaceful level of noise, then. The clock on the wall ticked. The birds outside chirped. Shadow Milk, try as he might to remain seething and awake, found that the rhythmic beat of Pure Vanilla's heart against his back, the warmth, the cozy atmosphere… it was all beginning to get to him. Like a siren song, beckoning him, pulling him closer to sleep.
He couldn't keep his eyes open, any of them. Even the ones in his hair blinked sleepily as he began to nod off. Did he really feel so comfortable and safe beside Pure Vanilla, to go from vigilant and awake, to nearly asleep? It was a sobering, scary thought. Terrifying, even. And it was a thought he pushed away in favor of merely savoring the snuggly moment.
Pushing him away could wait until he was awake once more.