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“Move over, your fat ass takes up so much space,” Quackity says, nudging Schlatt’s dangling limbs to the other side of the bed. Schlatt merely rolls over, subconsciously placing his phone back on the nightstand and stretches.
“Just come to bed already,” Schlatt says, grasping onto Quackity’s thin wrist to pull him into an embrace, an irritatingly toasty one that has Quackity squirming in annoyance. Hell is real, and it’s within the arms of Schlatt.
“I still have to turn off the lights asshole,” Quackity grunts into Schlatt’s chest, but it comes out more muffled than audible. Schlatt doesn’t even respond, instead he lets out a snore that vibrates across Quackity’s skin; pissing him off immensely. When Quackity looks up, there’s a lopsided and intemperate grin on Schlatt’s face. It's infuriating.
“Wake up dumbass or I’ll start pinching,” Quackity hisses, successfully managing to pull a few inches away from Schlatt’s chest. “You’re so clingy it’s stupid,”
“And you aren’t?” Schlatt mumbles, snorting slightly.
“You’re clingy in a bad way–”
“Sounds like bullshit to me–”
“You’re being real annoying right now,” Quackity snarls, finally pulling out of the vice-like embrace with the power of a thousand soccer moms. He nearly tugs Schlatt out of bed with how violently he jerks away, but he ignores the surprised ‘yip!’ that comes from behind him and storms off to flick the light switch off, without a second look back. Energy costs money, and to hell with Schlatt if he doesn’t understand that. “Our energy bills are, ipso facto, substantially because of you, asshole. Get your head in the game.” Quackity grumbles.
“Ouch,”
“Turn around and go to sleep already,” Quackity says dryly, waddling back to bed. He hovers over the bed, staring down at Schlatt. Even with the lights off, the little moonlight that filters through their shades provides just enough clarity to bring out Schlatt’s shit-eating grin. Quackity feels the slightest of his exasperation melt into something akin to fondness.
“I’m in no hurry sweet cheeks,” Schlatt smiles, saccharinely, and pulls Quackity back down once again. The younger makes an ‘oomph’ sound at impact. The blankets are warm against Quackity’s skin when he climbs in, no doubt thanks to Schlatt incubating in their bed for the past hour.
“C’mere,” Schlatt reaches into the darkness after giving Quackity some time to adjust and carefully rearranges himself to fit behind Quackity, clinging to his back like a limpet. “You’re freezing Quackity,” Schlatt sleepily moues.
“Keep me warm then,” Quackity bites back, not unkindly, and Schlatt presses his nose into his hair, long arms encircled around his waist. (Quackity snuggles into the embrace, because oh. He is a little cold.)
To be truthful, he doesn’t know how they've managed up to now. They’re not the greatest together, between their ceaseless bickering and teasing, but maybe their dynamic is what makes them an okay fit; what gives them a medium. Schlatt’s like a heat magnet; he keeps Quackity’s heart full and cozy, and his solid presence is what makes him feel safe. Comfort is tangible, and Quackity finds solace in the thought as he slowly slips into slumber. Schlatt gently squeezes him once, twice, and murmurs good night back.