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From the moment they first met, Shadow Milk knew how to get underneath his other half’s dough. The former king harbored such a sensitive soul beneath the thin facade of the composure and calm one would expect of a ruler. This pathetic layer of defense was instantly dismantled by the Beast’s careful touches and coaxing caresses, which, without fail, left Pure Vanilla as a vulnerable bundle of tears.
The morning had started off normal enough, with Pure Vanilla waking first and getting up to make himself some tea to begin the day. However, when he returned to his chambers, Shadow Milk had, too, awoken. And with this new development, the jester thought this a superb moment to rekindle their romance. Tentative, sleepy kisses morphed into ones of passion and heat, and soft grazes became possessive and greedy. Before they knew it, the tea and lingering dawn hunger was forgotten for the sake of lust.
He hadn’t intended to be that aggressive so soon after waking up, truly. And he certainly hadn’t expected his Pure Vanilla to faint from exhaustion soon after they’d finished.
Oh, well. The blond was always a little weak in the knees when it came to things like this.
At the very least, he could make it up to him once he came back to consciousness.
Soon after their lovemaking, Shadow Milk peeled himself off of the cushiony mattress and stretched, floating off of the ground and lazily snapping his fingers to dress himself in his usual jester garb. This was Pure Vanilla’s castle, after all. He would surely be accused of doing horrid things to him if he pranced about with nothing on.
With a yawn, he left the room without informing the other of his whereabouts, nor of his plan. Pure Vanilla had some kind of brain up there, right? He had common sense, Shadow Milk assumed.
When Pure Vanilla roused with a soft groan, he shifted onto his side, expecting the warm body next to him to be wrapping him in an embrace. He felt nothing but messy bedsheets and tossed-aside blankets. The healer squinted his eyes open, yet instead of seeing the familiar blur of blue beside him, there was emptiness. The shape of his body was still molded into the bedsheets, his lingering warmth and artificially sweet scent taunting him.
The blond sat up, his initially blissed-out expression diminishing into one of disappointment and sorrow. He pushes the sweaty strands of hair out of his eyes, feeling the empty space beside him with a tired reverence.
He was foolish to believe that this time would be different. That, maybe this time, he would stay.
The sunlight from his thin curtains poured into the room, bathing him and his chambers in fragile warmth. It was a cruel mockery of the situation. Yes, all he’d wanted was to wake up with someone that cared about him solely for him. He wanted to be held close and cherished and whispered sweet words of affection and peppered with kisses and promised that he was loved, so loved, so very loved.
Fate found humor in teasing him like this. Dangling this far-away fantasy right in front of him, then yanking it away the second that he reached out and begged.
Pure Vanilla found himself wrapping his arms around his chest, glancing around his messy bed to try and locate his discarded nightclothes. It was best not to think about what had happened. It was normal to feel used and miserable and abandoned after such extreme intimacy. That was why he didn’t enjoy indulging in it often. That was why it was a sin.
Shadow Milk was only a cookie, too. Everyone had needs and urges. It just so happened that Pure Vanilla was the closest thing that could sate them.
He was fine with that. Even if it meant being the Beast’s personal hook-up doll.
The blond’s vision grew blurry before he could even process what was happening. Small beads of tears pricked at the corners of his blue and yellow eyes, threatening to spill over. With a sniffle, he wiped them away with a shaky hand, refusing to let himself show his misery. He was overreacting. It was only sex.
Just as Pure Vanilla began tugging on his underwear and nightgown, he heard the door to his bedroom creak open. In a panic, thinking it was a servant, he yanked his blankets up to his chest, hiding any crevice of dough. However, as he settled his gaze on the intruder, he recognized the blur of the numerous hues of blue. Shadow Milk was standing at the other side of the room, holding a tray that carried a bowl of jellyberries and two glasses of water.
“Ah, you’re finally awake! So nice of you to grace Earthbread with your presence, sleeping beauty,” the jester sang, plopping a juicy cerulean jellyberry into his mouth.
The former king stared back at him with wide eyes, blinking owlishly. He hadn’t expected Shadow Milk to return at all, let alone bring something back to take care of him with.
Tentatively, he lowered his blanket, glancing to the side and turning his face away, a small frown etched onto his lips. Perhaps he really was overthinking it. He and Shadow Milk had been together for.. a while now, at least. It was unfair to him to assume he would care so little about his well-being.
A wave of guilt swells in Pure Vanilla’s chest, fingers clenching into the soft fabric of his blanket. His pale lashes lower, a few tears still beaded on them like dewdrops delicately placed on ferns at the break of dawn. He wants to apologize profusely to Shadow Milk, to beg for his forgiveness and confess that he was horrible for thinking such awful things. A terrible hypocrite undeserving of the other’s love.
Shadow Milk, oblivious to the blond’s inner turmoil and distress, floats closer, setting the tray down on the bed. He stares at him for a moment before pausing, cocking his head in confusion.
“... Is that my shirt?” he queries, his amusement audible in his voice. Pure Vanilla can feel his eyes burning holes into him.
Flustered, Pure Vanilla tenses and looks back up at him, tightly holding onto the clothes. So that was why they felt so... comfortable. A touch too big, yet so cozy. And it smelled just like him: artificial blueberry mixed with the cloying sweetness of frosting. It felt like being hugged.
Regardless of his initial embarrassment, he held onto the articles closer, blush dusting his cheeks with a rosy red.
“I’m sorry. I guess, I–.. I must have, ah.. Picked up the wrong one by mistake. Please, forgive me.” he apologized, lowering his head in shame, as if he were expecting Shadow Milk to scold him like a misbehaving mutt. Pure Vanilla wasn’t sure why he felt so desperate for his approval. Perhaps he wanted to compensate for his prior thoughts. Perhaps he wanted to change himself into someone more suited to the jester’s tastes.
Rather than showing any ounce of anger, though, Shadow Milk’s lips curved upwards into a bright grin, beaming back at his flustered blond.
He all but pounces onto the bed, collapsing beside Pure Vanilla and propping himself up with his elbow. His own hair splays out underneath him, the numerous eyes scattered within staring up at Pure Vanilla with dilated pupils.
And, to Pure Vanilla’s shock -- Shadow Milk leans in close enough to feel his breath, and kisses his cheek.
“Forgive you? Nills, every crevice of our souls touched. I made you feel so good that you passed out. I don’t understand how you’re still so shy, even now...” the beast purred playfully, poking the blond’s nose and gently pushing on his chest. “Now, go on. Lay back down. I wanted us to spend this morning relaxing. Witches know that you, of all cookies, need to.”
The healer, understanding now that he was being cajoled out of his meek state of compliance, felt the tension begin to seep out of his body. He lets out an inaudible breath, melting back into his bedsheets and reclining against the comforting hold of his pillows. When a cool glass is placed in his hands, Pure Vanilla doesn’t protest. He takes a drink of the refreshing beverage, allowing his heart rate to calm and his mind to go quiet.
Parts of his body are still raw and trembling from the aftershocks of this morning. His legs, especially, occasionally twitch with the absence of calloused hands holding them down. He breathes slowly, in through his nose, and out with his mouth. In, and out. Slow and steady. Shadow Milk is lying centimeters away, lifting his stolen shirt and pressing lazy kisses up his stomach and jaw. Every so often, the Beast plucks a jellyberry from the bowl and feeds it to him.
The casual affection makes Pure Vanilla’s heart flutter and twist in his chest, his stomach feeling like it was flipped upside down. He’s so very tired, but cannot keep the smile from making its way onto his lips. The healer’s eyes allow themselves to settle on the ceiling, his free hand tenderly carding through Shadow Milk’s mane of eyes and blue.
The tears from before are still lingering. Being treated with so much casual adoration and kindness is so unfamiliar that his chest tightens. Pure Vanilla felt as if he was being choked by his own touch-starved distrust. Before he could comprehend it, his throat began to tighten and ache in the tell-tale sign that he was going to cry. Deciding to try and preserve his dignity, the blond shifts onto his side, closely curling up against Shadow Milk and tucking his head underneath his chin. He lets out a watery exhale.
Pure Vanilla tries not to feel ashamed of how desperate he felt. As if trying to distract the jester from how needy he was feeling, his hands began to absentmindedly toy with his hair, breathing in his familiar scent and allowing it to fill his nose. His body was so warm. Not a single other cookie could make him feel so safe.
A quiet rumble filled Shadow Milk’s chest, softly chuckling to himself as his healer cuddled into him. This kind of behavior wasn’t new or unexpected at all to him. The blond seemed to have gotten far more clingy in the past few weeks than he’d ever seen him be with his other friends.
He relished that he was able to reduce his Nilly to these natural instincts of craving safety and love after something so intimate and intense. What a silly little cookie..
Over the past few months that they’d been together, Shadow Milk had also picked up on Pure Vanilla feeling more protected when he was being touched in some way. It was grounding, he had explained at the time. Remembering this, the jester brought one clawed hand to the other’s back, soothingly rubbing it while the other held the back of his head, lazily stroking it with his thumb.
“For such a prudish cookie, you’re so very clingy.. I thought you’d immediately be rushing to the shower to.. I dunno, clean yourself of your sins, or something stupid like that.” Shadow Milk snickered, lightly nuzzling against his neck and placing another kiss underneath his ear.
The familiar sound of his amused voice was so consoling that any remaining worries in Pure Vanilla’s mind had dulled and faded. He nestled in closer, clinging onto Shadow Milk like he was the softest pillow in all of existence.
“Please... don’t go.”
I love you.
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
I love you, too.
A small smile etches itself onto Pure Vanilla’s lips, adorning them like a fine piece of jewelry. He lightly pries his face away from his Beast’s chest, peeking out from underneath his chin to plant a sweet kiss full of adoration and longing to his lips. He was forever grateful that the amount of affection that he wanted to give was, without fail, reciprocated.
“... Maybe, we should clean off, though. I feel all sticky.” the blond murmured, wearily resting his cheek against Shadow Milk’s shoulder.
The jester laughed, sitting up and keeping his soulmate carefully tucked against him. “Of course you do. After all, that’s what happens when you get the absolute master of the bedtime tango to be your dance partner!” he cackled.
Pure Vanilla’s already blushing cheeks darkened in response to the strange term, giggling under his breath. “That’s... the first time I’ve heard someone call it that.”
Garnering no response, the healer is lifted out of bed, holding onto Shadow Milk’s hand while he guides his visually impaired partner to the restroom. He’s seated on the edge of the bathtub while the jester turns on the water and begins to take off the night-shirt and underwear. Shadow Milk does the same with his own clothing.
A serene atmosphere fills the room as the water fills up in the tub, with the jester adding a few droplets of herbal essence to lighten up the mood and relax them both. The two of them enter the warm water together, with Pure Vanilla sinking down and leaning against Shadow Milk’s chest as the Beast settles behind him. They sit there for a few moments, breathing and taking it in.
The blond allows his eyes to flutter shut as Shadow Milk’s hands begin to roam his body, carefully wiping off any remaining traces of sweat and semen. He pauses to pour some body wash into his palm, using it to lather up Pure Vanilla’s body and rid it of its filth. As he does so, he brushes his lips against his cheek, then his temple, then the top of his head. He scoops some water with his fingers and gently pours it over his long, flowing hair.
“I hope you know how fascinating you are, Nilly,” Shadow Milk begins to murmur, lips inches away from his ear as he scrubs floral-scented shampoo into his scalp with his claws. “It’s not every day that a cookie lets a Beast.. touch them like this. Most would cower in fear.. You just ask for more.”
With a quiet hum of thoughtfulness, Pure Vanilla tilts his head back, a pleased smile gracing his delicate features. He looked like he would start purring like a charmed kitten as he felt the jester rinse his hair and comb conditioner through it.
“I mean.. It took quite some time to get so comfortable with you. If I told the version of me that hadn’t yet ventured to beast yeast that I’m romantically involved with the Shadow Milk Cookie.. I’d probably tell myself that I lost my mind,” the fair-headed cookie mused lightheartedly.
Shadow Milk doesn’t give any verbal reply, rather deciding to lean in and lightly nip his ear. He rinsed out the conditioner using another scooped handful of warm water, combing his claw through the soft tresses. The Beast shuts off the water and allows it to drain.
“... Then, I’m glad we lost our minds together,” he breathes. “You were always meant to be mine, by my side,” he whispers, hugging Pure Vanilla close to his chest and keeping his nose tucked against his shoulder blade. He never wanted to let go. His. His. Pure Vanilla was made for him.
The healer blesses him with a warm simper, melting into his embrace. He tilts his head to the side, enabling their lips to meet again. “Yours, forever.”
Time slows. They take their time being tangled up within each other’s embrace and just being. Pure Vanilla wants to stay like this for the entire day. Shadow Milk knows him better. If they had, the blond would begin to complain about being unproductive and try to take on double the workload to make up for it. What a stubborn mess.
The jester scoops Pure Vanilla up into his arms and floats out of the bathtub, depositing him back onto the ground and wrapping him up in a fluffy, heated towel. He does the same for himself, though shakes the water out of his hair much like a soaked dog.
For his precious Pure Vanilla, he treats him with more respect and grace. A hairdryer is summoned, and, without even needing a cable to plug into the wall, turns it on. The jester hums some nonsensical tune to himself as he dries the blond’s luscious hair. At the same time, he attempts to groom it with a hairbrush, preening the locks and combing out any remaining knots. It felt so soft, like the fluffiest marshmallow cloud.
Shadow Milk pauses every so often to burrow his nose against the beautiful sight in front of him, taking in the mixture of his sweet vanilla and elegant floral scent.
“Never would I have expected you to be so gentle with me, Shadow Milk...” Pure Vanilla murmurs to himself, though surprised, clearly enjoying the affection. He’d never been so doted on. Sure, he had servants and maids when he was King, but.. This was different. This was being doted on and adored simply because he was loved, not because of some arbitrary title.
The Beast blushes with a quiet scoff, delicately arranging the strands of fair hair into a waterfall braid, half of his hair woven together and pinned in place with a few white orchids and forget-me-nots, while the other half cascaded down his shoulders and to the floor like a divine pair of wings.
“You're saying that like you're surprised, Nills. I don't think I’ve ever met a cookie more deserving of being pampered–apart from me, of course–than you.” Shadow Milk admits, using a comb to ensure there were no stray flyaways ruining his beauty.
When he finishes, the jester turns Pure Vanilla around to face him. His cerulean and teal eyes scrutinize him for a moment to see if there was anything that he could add. When he found nothing of the sort, his expression softened into one of adoration. Unable to help himself, Shadow Milk leaned down and cupped his face, lovingly kissing his lips and pouring all of his affection into it. When he pulled away, he grinned at the sight of the blond’s dazed, flustered expression. Clearly, the healer was burning up more from these innocent acts of devotion than from anything sexually charged. Shadow Milk carefully takes his hand in his own, intertwining their fingers together and leading him back into the bedroom.
It was time for his favorite part of their morning routine. Pure Vanilla stood in the center of the room, and Shadow Milk floated a few feet away. With a flick of his wrist, the towel disappeared, and within moments, he began to flip through multiple outfits. First was a flowing yellow sundress paired with some sandals. Cute, but not practical. Next, a pair of jean shorts and an open blouse with some socks and sneakers. Nope! He certainly looked lovely, but that amount of dough was for him and him alone. Besides, it was hardly elegant. Finally, after a few more outfits, Shadow Milk found the perfect one. It was a gossamer, vintage-style babydoll dress that reached the floor. The pale yellow fabric was adorned with ribbons and lace on the hem, as well as on the sleeves. He was also now wearing a cute pair of heels with a small yellow bow on the tip. Oh, he looked just like a porcelain doll.
“Oh, my...” was all that Pure Vanilla could gasp, feeling the delicate fabric and allowing it to flow around himself.
Typically, Shadow Milk would put as much effort into his own outfit as he had with his lover’s. Unfortunately, today, they were short on time, and he frankly did not want to outshine the blond. With a snap of his fingers, he dressed himself in a plain blue shirt with a cat graphic on the front, star-embroidered shorts, and long white socks with black flats. His hair was also now tied into a high ponytail, allowing the eyes in his blue locks to admire the healer in front of him. The hearts within their pupils gave away any attempt at nonchalance.
Grinning, the jester took Pure Vanilla’s gloved hand within his own, twirling him around like a princess and catching him in his arms. “Aren’t we just like two peas in a pod!” he exclaimed, dramatically pecking his cheek and summoning a mirror.
He admired the two of them for a minute or so before suddenly freezing, eyebrows raising. “Crumbs, I almost forgot,” Shadow Milk hissed under his breath. A portal appeared beside him, and he reached into it to pull out two bracelets. One was blue, the other yellow. He donned the yellow bracelet proudly, then slipped the blue one onto Pure Vanilla’s slender wrist.
“There. Now every cookie knows that you’re mine, and mine alone.”
Pure Vanilla stands next to him in front of the mirror, their slight height difference clearly visible in the reflective surface. He has to squint to make out their outfits and Shadow Milk’s expression, but can just barely see his blurry beaming smile. The healer leans his head on the jester’s shoulder, looping his arm through his lover’s own.
“I wouldn’t want to be anyone else’s.”