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“Nope!” A hand suddenly appeared in Rose’s line of vision, snatching away the papers she held.
“Hey!” Rose startled, twisting to look over the back of her couch. Dear ignored her protest, strolling over to the kitchen table, where more papers lay scattered about.
“I was reading that.” She informed them.
Honestly.
“Yep, and now you’re not.” They carefully tapped the bundle against the kitchen table, neatly stacking them before setting them down. A gesture that made Rose smile, despite her annoyance.
“Dear-”
“Nope.” They stopped before the couch, hands on their hips. “Today is supposed to be your day off, and you promised you weren’t going to work. And before you say ‘reading isn’t work’,” They continued, giving her a stern look that they clearly learned from her. “We also agreed that papers related to work counted, remember? Because you need a break.”
“I will remind you that I took not one, but two breaks yesterday.”
“You lost your glasses for twenty minutes…”
“Which you did nothing to help me find, and instead kept giggling at me while I searched.” Rose pointed out, crossing her arms. Dear suppressed a smile at the memory, remembering the increasing frustration that had formed on Rose’s face as she had lifted books, opened drawers, and walked the stacks multiple times, searching endlessly.
It had taken everything they had to block out any thoughts of “they’re on your head”.
Instead they replaced them with a constant stream of “You’re so cute” and “God I love you”.
“And,” Rose added, bringing Dear back out of their thoughts. “I joined you and Abigail for lunch as well.”
“I’ll give you that one, but also: you kept trying to leave early.” Dear pointed out.
“Because the two of you got into an argument on whether fanfiction counted as “Fine Literature” or not!” Despite the exasperation, there was some amusement to her words.
“Still can’t believe you took her side on that.” Dear shook their head, dropping down on the couch beside her.
“I am a firm believer that any and all forms of independent writing are to be respected. Not to mention that a number of writers within the genre have gone on to create in-depth analyses and sagas in their free time.” Rose explained. Her arms crossed as she said all this, fingers playing at her sleeves.
Trying not to put them on her hips, since Abby had made that joke about her looking like a schoolteacher.
“I know, I know.” Dear rolled their eyes, a teasing smile on their lips. “You gave me the same speech at the diner. Ms. Liza even clapped.”
The reminder made the older woman’s cheeks flush, much to her partner’s delight.
“Look,” Dear sat up, reaching out to gently grasp Rose’s hand with their own.
“I haven’t seen you take a proper day off to rest in weeks, Rose. Maybe that’s something you can handle - which is awesome, don’t get me wrong - but you shouldn’t have to do that. We’re both worried about you burning yourself out.”
The sincerity in their words weakened her resolve, and Rose sighed, putting a hand over theirs and turning to give them a soft smile.
“I know. You both are just trying to look out for me.”
“Glad you agree. Now c’mere!”
Rose yelped as Dear abruptly wrapped an arm around her shoulders, yanking her sideways. Her head ended up in their lap, and she could feel them shaking slightly against her as they laughed, one of their hands coming down to card their fingers through her hair.
“...You know, you could have just asked me to lay down.” She pointed out, debating on sitting up again just to spite them.
“Probably. Wouldn’t have been nearly as fun, though.” They smirked down at her. Rose rolled her eyes.
It did admittedly feel nice: their nails lightly scratching at her scalp as their fingers gently tugged at her hair, untangling any knots they found with experienced precision. Especially when they made their way down, carefully massaging the tension points she’d shown them (and Chloe in turn had shown her). Rose hummed, feeling herself relax a bit.
Okay, maybe a break wasn’t so bad.
Of course, the peace couldn’t last for long.
“Hello everybody, I have arrived!” The front door burst open and slammed shut in quick succession. A pause, then,
“Hey, am I alone in here?”
Dear laughed, while Rose quietly groaned. They tilted their head back, calling out into the foyer.
“We’re in here, Abs!”
They heard the sound of a bag hitting the floor, and keys being dropped into the little bowl on the side table.
A gift from Abby and Dear, given their girlfriend’s tendency to lose things.
“Sweet! Lemme just say hi to Exscaleibur.”
Rose’s eyes widened and she sat up slightly, almost knocking heads with Dear, who jolted back, smothering a surprised curse.
“Don’t feed him anymore treats - he’s still on his diet!” She reminded her.
A fact which the loveable little drake had been less than pleased about. Alas, not even beady little puppy eyes could sway Rose once his health came into question.
“I still say it’s criminal to limit his tributes.” Abby called back.
“Abby.” Dear laughed, shaking their head as they saw Rose frown, ready to start up the same argument the two had been having since they enacted the rule. They gently nudged Rose again, who reluctantly laid back down.
“Ah, I’m only giving her shit. I just wanna pet the little guy!” Abby’s footsteps disappeared in the direction of Exscaleibur’s enclosure.
‘She’s a menace.’ Rose gave Dear a pointed look, the words echoing in their mind. They snickered.
‘Yeah, but we wouldn’t want her any other way.’
‘Speak for yourself. ’ Her smile gave her away, though.
Soon enough Abby came strolling back into the living room. The podcaster was sporting one of her merch shirts today, though the way it was hanging past her thighs suggested she had snatched it from Dear’s closet.
“You know, I swear he is learning to beg using those cute little eyes of his. Are we sure he still needs to be denied?” Abby directed this question at Rose, who rolled her eyes.
“It has been three days. The veterinarian said he needs to abstain for at least two weeks, until his weight has dropped a bit.”
“But what about his morale? He’s going to get depressed!” Abby’s arms flailed out with dramatic purpose.
“He was running around earlier today and last I saw, he was sunning himself on his favorite rock.” Rose returned.
“If anything, I would say you’re at more risk for depression than he is.” She added.
Dear snorted a laugh at this, while Abby looked offended.
“So glad to know you value my mental health. I’ll remember this the next time I see my therapist.” Despite her supposed offense, Abby joined them on the couch beside Dear, lifting Rose’s legs to slip under before resting them on her lap once more.
“Miss Liza does therapy now?” Dear remarked, smirking. One of their hands shifted to Rose’s shoulder, rubbing gently, while the other reached over to playfully jab at Abby’s arm. They earned a smacked hand for their troubles.
They also decided not to mention that she had, in fact, basically acted as one for them in the past.
“For all the gossip gathering and advice-dealing she does? I’d be shocked if it isn’t on her resume at this point.” Abby replied. Her hands moved to start rubbing at Rose’s feet, only for the latter to gasp and suddenly jerk, startling them both.
“Abigail. No tickling!” Rose warned, casting her a stern look. Abby held up her hands.
“I’m not! I forgot you were a soft touch.”
“You’re ticklish?” Dear chuckled. “I’ll have to remember that later.”
Rose narrowed her eyes at them in turn, and despite the grin they couldn’t fight back, they felt their shoulders rise sheepishly in response.
“I’ll gladly remind you to behave, as well.” She said. Dear smirked challengingly back.
“Or what?” A number of options flew through their mind - both pleasant and not so much so. They wondered if Rose was taking a peek now, and could see what they were considering.
Or if she was pulling some inspiration from it all.
Until Abby interrupted them, her voice far too casual to be innocent.
“Ah, if they try anything you can just get them back. One shot to the ribs and Bud here will crumple like an old soda can.”
Dear’s head jerked to face Abby, eyes wide with shock at the betrayal.
“I do not!”
Unfortunately for them, Abby had apparently found their reaction amusing enough to keep going, and once she got on a tangent, there was absolutely no stopping her anymore.
“You absolutely do! Remember when I goosed ya while you were shelving at the Library? I swear, my Nonna’s tea kettle gets less high pitched than you.” Abby was laughing now, gesturing with her hands as she got into her story.
Dear could feel heat rising up their face. “You surprised me.”
“You usually sound like a tin whistle when startled?” Abby smirked.
“Okay, that-”
“Darlings,” Rose interrupted, her slightly raised voice alone enough to silence them both immediately. “If you’re going to argue, please take it to another room.”
“Sorry.”
“Sorry Rosie.”
Abby seemed more amused than bothered - likely used to annoying Rose - but Dear felt a jab of guilt in their stomach. This was her day off, and even if any bickering between them and Abby wasn’t actually serious, they knew it could be disruptive to the telepath.
They should have known better.
A hand prodded at their shoulder, and they glanced over, catching Abby’s eye (a rare thing for their socially anxious partner). She winked, and shot them a smile - a playful, easy thing - and they felt the knot in their belly loosen a bit, comforted.
A few minutes of peaceful silence passed between the trio.
“You know, I can’t help but think we’re not doing this right.” Abby suddenly said.
Dear raised their eyebrows, looking at her inquiringly, and she in turn gestured between them all.
“I mean, this is nice and domestic and all that, but… I feel like we could be doing this “properly”, you know what I mean?”
Catching on, Dear sat up a bit. “Come to think of it, I did buy some massage oil last week. From that massage place Rose likes? Supposed to be pretty relaxing, according to the staff.”
There was a considering hum, and then to the surprise of both, Rose stood up, briefly regarding both of her partners.
“That sounds lovely. I’ll be in my bedroom.” Without another word, she kissed them both - first Abby, and then Dear - and then strode off, leaving the remaining two to stare after her, awe-struck.
Damn, she was good.
A beat of silence, and then two pairs of eyes met.
“Bottom or top?”
“Swap for now, switch back after a bit?”
“Think we’ll have time?”
“We can make time.”
“Deal.”
And off they went.