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It wasn’t unlike Geno to feel slow in the mornings. A few cups - or a dozen shots - of coffee were usually all he needed to get himself going. No matter how quickly the mornings went by, waking up felt like an entire war in itself.
The blankets were always too warm or too cozy. The body he was pressing into was always too enrapturing. It wasn’t his fault that he could easily slip into and be enveloped in the hold of another. Why leave when nothing called for him?
Eventually, the bed was left vacant, inhabitants too busy or restless to stay with him. He thought surely, he was being lazy or worthless just laying there.
“Gen, as much as we appreciate the help. You don't have to be dead on your feet while scrambling eggs.”, Reaper chuckled, pressing a light kiss to his temple and scooping him up in their arms. He went limp soon after. Who was he to deny them? So loving and patient.
“Get some rest, glitch. They don’t need a pile of blood stained dust after working so hard to get your ass out and alive.” , they turned away too soon to see the unbidden tears slip down his cheek. His phantom stomach coiled in rage and guilt. He swiftly retreated to bed.
He was pressed into the couch, a cool tendril around his waist and ended to rest in his lap. His mind was fuzzy even as he tried to focus on the movie displayed. The sounds faded into white noise to him, not enough to press through the suffocating grasp his thoughts had on his focus. Was he so much trouble? It could so easily slip the life sustaining ring off his phalange and simply …
Maybe he was just tired.
Maybe all he needed was a rest.
He rolled the ring tensely on his phalange, mind a haze.
“What troubles you, my dear?” Their voice cut through his mind like a knife. The crystal clear clarity was jarring in the face of the fog that were his thoughts. Almost like the same knife that ended his fitful rest only to then end his life, again and again and-
He eased up on his breathing, gradually working himself down from his self-induced panic, even as the imagery continued to loop in his mind. Blood, gold, dust, a call for papyrus and then darkness.
He probably just needed a nap after all.
It was assumed by his datemates that his prolonged tiredness and general increased irritability were a result of the “stasis” his body was put into during his time in the save screen. Some days he felt so annoyed by everything that he wanted to hole up in bed and never leave. The soft comforters and plush pillows could easily lull him into a dreamless sleep. As he was now, face pressed into the pillows to block out the light with the covers pulled up past his shoulders. He knew his saliva mixed with blood would certainly stain the pristine sheets but his datemates never seemed to mind. Or perhaps they did but didn’t mention it to spare his feelings.
He screwed his sockets shut tighter. No . They wouldn’t attempt to spare his feelings in such a way. Sure, they’ve put up with a lot of his bullshit so that would be nothing in comparison but... Reaper’s comment on how they didn't mind the copper-y taste of his mouth was seared into the back of his skull. He groaned, mind further muddled by how Nightmare respected his desire to not receive a kiss from them. Yet. He couldn’t miss the displeased hum that slipped past their teeth at the news but they didn’t push.
They were both so respectful and … patient. It was welcome unusual.
He continued to press his face in the pillows, hiding his functioning socket from the lights emitting from the lamps in the room. He didn’t perk up at the light shuffling of the sheets near his feet. It wasn’t unexpected for their partners to move in and out of the house. Someone would always check in on him, which he appreciated. The soft sniffling peaked his interest though.
He was still unwilling to move from his no sensory haven but offered a weak grumble of acknowledgement. The shuffling stilled, a skeletal hand being tentatively placed on the back of his skull. The light pets pulled him from his groggy state. He happily leaned into the touch, a purr reverberating through his throat. He tilted his skull until his working socket was exposed. He to blink a few moment to readjust to the light but the pets didn’t stop.
The literal crater in his skull was very jarring to see, at first. Maintaining the glitches over his skull were becoming more taxing on his focus as his body continued to readjust to time. It didn’t stop him from covering it, bitter as it was a permanent reminder of his “failure”.
The putrid smell of decay immediately hit him. The scent itself didn’t disturb him, already used to the aura of death that always lingered near their person. The presence was comforting and almost enough for him to relax into the bed again. He resisted, concern overpowering his need for sleep. Their sockets were turned down and their usual smirk was dull with grief. Seeing the pitiful expression drew out a different sadness from his soul as he mentally thought of ways to comfort them. Would they appreciate a hug?
“Reaps…? What’s wrong?”, he murmured, tiredness clear in how hoarse his voice was. Reaper crooned sadly, clearly not in a talking mood. Blood stains, and something else he didn’t dare put a name to, was staining their dark robe. Their feathers were all in disorder and unkept in comparison to how they looked last night.
They hummed, unconsciousness creeping into their limbs even as they shook themself. Reaper clearly needed something and they were willing to do whatever it took to compensate for it.
“Do you …? Need to…?”, he wasn’t sure what he needed at that moment but he turned over onto his back fully, spreading his arms and exposing the huge blood stain present on the sheets. He cringed at the chill of the room and the mess on the sheets. Reaper gladly accepted the invitation, nuzzling into his neck and chirping sorrowfully. Reaper wasn’t easily bothered by their job as it was in their nature to bring about death. To be the end of all things. Even he would eventually meet some kind of end, whether it be succumbing to insanity, a murder or a mixture of both. He didn’t know. It was still something that kept him awake at night.
So, used to Reaper coming home as his peppy, unflappable self to be struck with them appearing so downtrodden and regretful could only mean …
“Reaper, did you…?”, his thoughts were muddled but the intent was there. The word was there. Even as it went unspoken. A chocked croak left their throat.
A child.
Someone so inexperienced with the world as they were, only to be ripped away from it before they could truly see what it had to offer. Good or bad. He felt pity, knowing that the discussion of having their own child was something they regularly touched upon. It was fun to theorize what it would be like to carry or raise a new life all on their own but … they were Death .
How could a creature, no, Death itself bring forth Life?
He knew it wasn’t entirely unlikely given the twinkle in their friend Life’s eye when she spoke of it. But it didn’t stop Reaper from overthinking on the what-ifs and who-woulds of it all. Geno himself didn’t feel entirely ready for parenthood, even less carrying a child of his own. It was still fun to think about of course. To think about holding a little life born of Death and Deceased.
And that wasn’t even taking their other partner into account. Nightmare, who was partnered with Error before they all came together, too had worries over the complications regarding a child they’d form.
Their partners were generally uninterested in sex as they were. Sure, Nightmare and Reaper would indulge him if he so desired but outside of that? He didn’t think perverse jokes, courtesy of Reaper, counted towards somebody’s libido. That didn’t take away from how much he loved them, of course. Spending time simply relaxing in their presence, despite their repulsive auras, soothed him.
He tightened his hold on their back, gently running his hand down their spine. It was a bit difficult with their wings in the way but he worked to give those their deserved pets too. He sighed, opening and closing his fists as frustration welled through his soul. He felt so useless like was unable to properly help them through this. He squeezed his socket shut. He swore he was getting better at managing those thoughts.
Reaper’s sniffling eventually stopped. They twisted their body until he loosened his hold to press a chaste kiss to his zygomatic bone. They mumbled a thank you and soon drifted off into a light doze. He huffed at the gesture, nuzzling into their hood as he pulled them up so that he was now enveloped in their arms.
Maybe a nap wouldn’t be so bad. He could always complain about wasting his day later.