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A woman with turquoise hair and lilac eyes wakes from her slumber, her eyes adjusting to the peaking sunshine from the curtains. Finana attempts to stretch her stiff limbs but is prohibited by a weight on her. The woman looks down and faces a head of untamed blonde hair. Her lilac eyes softened at the sight, and a gentle hand reached to caress the golden locks. She smiles and melts into the moment with her boyfriend, Wilson.
Her fondling pauses when a much larger hand reaches for her free one. “I want pets too.”
She moves her head in the direction of the voice, continuing her earlier action. She sees her other boyfriend, Claude, kneeling beside the bed with his arms on the mattress and his head resting on one arm. A cute pout was evident on his features, and she huffed softly at her boyfriend’s desperate look.
The woman does as told and slips out of his loose hold, reaching out to give the same treatment. At that, the much paler-blonde’s pout transforms into a successful smile, the northern lights that are his eyes disappearing behind his lids. He slowly lifts the hand that was holding Finana’s to brush up her arm until he finds the hand petting him. The hand on top of hers lifts it away from his hair and onto his cheek. His beautiful eyes were still not open for her to see.
With her hand now on his smooth cheek, she strokes her thumb back and forth against his soft skin. The blonde-purple haired man nuzzles into her touch again like a cat. A slow exhale from her boyfriend can be felt at the tip of her fingers, and she sucks in a quick breath at the realization that she is so close to touching his lips.
As if he can read her mind he moves her hand’s position again so he can lay a lengthy kiss on the center of her small palm. A gasp could be heard from the turquoise-haired woman, and with the sound registering through her boyfriend his eyes finally open.
Now she’s able to take in the art that is her boyfriend. “Pretty,” a quiet, honest compliment slips past her lips without her permission.
She can feel his laugh on her palm, and the sound of the melodic tone relaxes her bones, almost going limp.
“You should see my view,” she released a laugh of her own at the returned affection.
“Why’d you stop?” A raspy whine broke the other two from the mutual entranced state, but Claude didn’t release Finana from his hold.
They both looked towards their cranky boyfriend and swooned. His head was lifted from Finana’s chest, and a hand was rubbing his eyes, attempting to rub the tiredness away as well, but it was done with a natural, endearing pout. Their swooning intensified when they watched as Wilson repeatedly blinked slowly until his eyes adjusted to the sunlight. His bright ocean-like eyes tease them until Wilson wills his eyelids apart, revealing his most enchanting feature.
“Morning, sunshine.” Finana felt Claude speak more than she heard him and shuddered, forgetting where her other hand was.
Her hand’s captor gave her palm a lingering kiss, squeezed it lightly, and released it from his hold. Finana’s has yet dropped from his face. Confused, Claude gave her a look, and she answered by puckering her lips. The multicolored-eyed man’s gaze grew fond as he leaned in to grant his girlfriend’s wish. He provided a soft peck, and the feel of her cushioned lips pulled a smile on his own. Still close to her face, he watches Finana’s lilac eyes open with a smile mirroring his own.
The urge to kiss her over and over again until she becomes breathless grows stronger with every second he looks at her gorgeous face, but he is interrupted by Wilson’s morning voice, “I want kisses too.”
Claude, being the provider of a boyfriend, is obliged by the request and gives a chaste kiss to their whiny boyfriend. Wilson beams at the affection, “Thank you.”
“You’re more polite in the morning. Why can't you be like that all the time?” Wilson can feel the vibration of her laugh from on top of her. His eyes narrowed at her with a half-hearted offended look, and a playful idea popped up in his mind. Wilson acts on his thoughts and bites the exposed part of Finana’s breast. Not hard enough to bruise but enough for her to stop laughing.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she shoved the cackling man’s head away from her. She wiggled herself out from under him and quickly shuffled to move behind Claude, using him as a shield from the rabid dog that was their boyfriend, “Did you see what he just did to me?!” Still exasperated by what just occurred, her movements became frantic as she was directing Claude to look at their boyfriend, who was still cackling and clutching his stomach.
“I did see it… and honestly, I’m just as shocked.”
Finana looked down to where she was bitten, looking for any possible bruising. “Thank goodness, his dumbass didn’t bite me too hard or I would have a bruise.”
“Don’t lie. You wouldn’t mind me leaving a mark.” The manic laughter finally came to a stop to speak out about Finana’s false statement.
“Whatever,” she crossed her arms at the call out.
Claude shook his head at his partners’ antics. “Where did he bite you?” he turned to Finana, pulling her arms apart to try to get a look.
She pointed to where the assault was, and Claude took the chance to lean in, his hands engulfing her waist easily as he pulled her towards himself. Finana watched as he gave the spot a tender kiss. Her breath hitched at his sudden act, and Claude lifted his head with a knowing smirk, “All better?”
Finana’s lilac eyes changed from dazed to judging. “You sly bastard.”
“I see a chance, I take it,” he shrugged, proud.
Wilson appears beside them, quick as light, “I apologize for my actions. I would also like to lay a kiss upon your breast.” The other two look at their boyfriend. Wilson’s legs were tucked under him and his hands lay politely on his lap, awaiting Finana’s answer.
“What is with you?” the woman laughed out, and Claude released a chuckle of his own.
“He wants that cookie bad, that's what’s with him,” Claude translated the blonde’s weird declaration, using his hands to speak like he always does.
Wilson, stiff in his pleading position, patiently waits as Finana continues to look at him. She sighed with a smile. “I guess you can, as an apology,” she mumbled, acting like she wasn’t flustered.
The blonde’s phantom tail wagged at that and crawled closer towards the other two. He gathered the more petite woman onto his lap, lips stretching into a smile, “Itadakimasu!”
Wilson laid a wet kiss on the same spot where Claude kissed their girlfriend. His chin now rests on her chest, beaming up at her. “What? Am I just a piece of meat to the both of you now?”
Claude rolled his eyes at Finana’s dramatics and scooched over to wrap his arms around his partners, “Don’t say it like that, Feesh.”
“Yeah, babe, is it wrong for your boyfriends to give you kisses?”
“I guess not,” she mumbled, pursing her lips. The other two notice a growing blush forming on her cheeks and the mutual desire to kiss her more heightens.
The two men looked at each other, communicating with their eyes. Finana’s eyes switched between the two in confusion. “Hey! What are you two planning?” the lilac-eyed woman stared them down accusingly with her arms crossed, expecting a reply.
Twin cheshire grins turn to face her, and Finana’s eyes widen, a finger pointing at the both of them, “Don’t you dare.”
Instantaneously, Wilson and Claude pounce on her, smooching every inch of her face, neck, shoulder, and uncovered chest. “You absolute dogs!” she shouts through heaps of giggles. “Get off me! You mothertruckers!”
Finana eventually escaped her boyfriends’ clutches and now is leaning against Wilson, who is sitting on top of the bathroom counter with the back of her head against his chest. Wilson's hand fidgeting with the Finana's long and thick turquoise hair over her shoulders. Claude was beside the two, finishing up his morning routine.
The sound of Wilson humming a tune, Finana brushing her teeth, and Claude washing off his cleanser. The perfect melody of domestic harmony.
Wilson was the first to finish his routine, and his patience was running thin. One cheek smooshes a top of Finana’s head, and he huffs, “Are you guys done yet?”
Finana lifts her hand to pat his cheek, signaling him that she’ll move. He understood right away and set his hands on the counter behind him, looking up at the ceiling. He groans and whines like a kid, Finana scolding him with a mouth full of toothpaste, “Can you hold your horses, you big baby.”
Now that the sink was free, Finana and Claude switched places.
The blonde-purple haired man invites himself in between Wilson’s spread legs and slithers his arms around his shoulders. Wilson melts into the embrace and wraps his arms around his waist, slightly kicking his feet in glee. No spaces were found between the two as they molded into one another. Wilson could feel the tip of Claude’s nose glide from his neck to his hair, burying himself as close as possible.
“I’m all done,” a cheery voice interrupts the soft moment, but neither man is bothered at all. They separate from their canoodling, and Wilson hops down from the counter. All of them walked out of the bathroom. Finana headed towards their king-sized bed, plopping herself to sit at the edge, legs crossed.
“What’s the plan for today?” Wilson groans out as he stretches his tense muscles, then places a hand on his popped hip.
“Was going to Don Quijote. Need some groceries,” Claude answered straightforwardly, pulling a shirt over his head and onto his bare upper half.
Finana clapped her hands excitedly. “Were you planning on making that one dish you’ve been wanting to?” she asked in one breath.
Claude, being the one who mainly cooks for them, had been experimenting with new dishes he found intriguing or ones that Wilson or Finana found online. His partners are supportive and ask questions whenever to learn more about his interests, anything to show that his interests are important to them as well.
Last month, Finana was having one of her period cravings and was especially adamant about this one because of how physically painful and mentally weighing this particular menstruation was. She whined to Claude about needing and wanting a seafood boil.
Finana's whining and begging weren’t needed since Claude would always do anything and everything for Finana and Wilson. If either of them came to him with a bloody body, Claude would already have a thorough strategy on how to get rid of it.
Claude did research and watched YouTube videos for his girlfriend’s cravings. He took a few personal notes and shopped for the ingredients along with Wilson, who was happy to volunteer his assistance. A day after Finana’s request, she was met with the delightful scent of her cravings. The scent alone almost willed her horrid cramps away. So you can imagine her greater reaction when she took the first bite.
Of course, after, she thanked Claude with smooches, cuddles, and words of affection. Wilson watching the ordeal with the utmost fondness in his gaze.
Claude hummed a yes in response to Finana, and she gasped with a sudden idea, “I’m coming then!”
“Me too.” Wilson chimes in, “Nothing else to do.”
“You finished th-”
“Yes.”
“Oh, how about tha-”
“Done.”
“What about the oth-”
“Yes! Yes! Yes to everything after,” he bobs his head aggressively.
His partners laughed at that. “Just checking, honey.” Finana placed a quick peck onto his cheek.
“Okay, let’s get changed and head out then,” Claude announced, approaching Finana and Wilson and giving a quick kiss on their heads.
Finana hummed cheerfully in agreement and headed over to her designated drawers in search of an outfit, Wilson and Claude following.
Claude was the first to find an outfit. Simple black baggy cargo and a white t-shirt that’s cropped just below his hips. He waits patiently for the other two in the living room on the couch. He’s comfortably laid back and manspreading while going over the ingredients needed.
Another body joins him on the couch. Wilson leans against the pillow on the armrest and plops his legs on his boyfriend’s lap. Drawing his eyes away from his phone, Claude shifts his gaze onto the blonde whose face was covered with his phone, probably scrolling mindlessly on his socials. Wilson is dressed in baggy blue dark washed jeans and a pastel yellow knitted vest with a white undershirt.
Claude throws his phone somewhere behind himself and adjusts their positions so that Wilson’s legs are wrapped around his hip and waist. The blonde moves his phone to take a curious peak at his boyfriend’s shenanigans. Said boyfriend continued and slipped himself under the phone Wilson was still holding. Done with his adjustments, Claude slowly allows all his weight to comfortably lay on top of Wilson and closes his eyes, his head using Wilson’s chest as a makeshift pillow.
The other blows an affectionate exhale through his nose and rolls his eyes in endearment. Wilson rests his elbows on Claude’s wide shoulders and uses his head to support the hold of his phone, continuing his scrolling.
The two men wait patiently for their girlfriend to finish getting ready. The second they hear the sound of Finana’s setting spray in the distance is when they simultaneously get up from their cuddling, heading toward where their shoes are stored.
Finana emerges out of their bedroom the second Wilson laced on his black Converse and Claude slipped on his worn down Air Forces. They both turn to their girlfriend, who’s making her way towards them to search and choose the shoes she wants to wear.
Finana was the type of person to take any chance to dress up, no matter if it was something as simple as going to the grocery store. She was in a white, fitted button-up, short-sleeved top with a few buttons on the top and bottom unbuttoned, exposing some cleavage and her belly button. Her strategic choice of a lacy black bra peaking slightly. For bottoms, she wears a low-waisted gray pleated maxi skirt that reveals her frilly white crew socks. Finana’s long, turquoise hair was tied into a half-up and half-down style, pinned by a pearl hair clip.
In terms of accessories, she wears the gifted silver heart locket from Wilson and Claude. When you open it, each side has her most favorite photo of her loving boyfriends. One side is of Claude, who was facing front, but his eyes were drawn longingly somewhere else, looking effortlessly beautiful as ever. The photo was taken by their mutual friend Vanta, who caught Claude's yearning stare for Wilson and Finana —Vanta sending the photo to the Monster Girl Squad group chat once they got home. On the other is Wilson; this one was with his eyes shyly looking away with a blush on his face, his flustered state being Finana’s favorite reaction of his. This was taken by Claude, who immediately gushed to Finana through text about it.
After being given the gift and expressing Finana’s thanks, an instant thought materializes, “If I put a photo of each of you on each side when it’s closed, you guys are smooching!” That pulled a hearty laugh from her boyfriends.
Aside from her most prized possession, a few silver rings adorn her slim fingers and a silver bracelet she bought with her best friends, Elira and Pomu, with their respective charms attached. A tropical fish for Finana, a sun for Elira, and a leaf for Pomu —Elira and Pomu having the same bracelet. This bracelet being her most prized possession part 2.
Finana leans down, reaching for her Mary Janes and buckles them on, “Alright, ready to go!” She announces as she grabs her shoulder bag from the table by their shoe rack. Once the bag is in her hold, she looks up at Wilson and Claude expectantly. With the full view of her face, they recognize her usual soft and light makeup. Her eyes were decorated with mild glitter and black mascara, her pouty lips were painted with a soft pink, and some light blush on her cheeks.
Claude and Wilson smile down at their gorgeous girlfriend. Claude nods in confirmation as Wilson reaches for the doorknob to twist and open the door. Routinely, Finana is the first to walk out, then Wilson, and lastly Claude who locks their door.
They arrived at Don Quijote, Claude coming out of the car first and making his way to the other side to open the car door for his passenger princesses.
“Hey! I can open the door myself.” Whenever Claude would open the door for Wilson, he would become shy and confused on how to react. So he chooses the tsundere way, “I’m a manly man who can open my own door.”
Claude smiled smugly, reaching one hand to rest on Wilson’s neck and directing him to tilt his head down a bit to kiss him softly on the forehead. “Yes, honey, you’re our manly man,” his tone teasing and velvety. Wilson blushes immensely and pushes Claude away from him.
“Shut up. You’re so stupid.” Wilson says aggressively but provides Claude with a quick smooch on the cheek.
In contrast, Finana happily pecks Claude in thanks. Finana tiptoeing and Claude leaning down automatically, “Thanks pook-a-dooks,” she joked, Claude rolling his eyes at the terrible pet name.
Finana walks ahead of them, the two men following in tow.
Reaching the entrance Wilson looks between the carts and basket, “Which one?”
“Basket.” At that, the blonde takes a basket, and Claude guides them to an aisle.
Somehow, they lost Finana.
Just a few minutes before, she had been with them as Claude and Wilson were discussing which brand would be best to use, but a certain aisle caught Finana’s eyes, and she rushed out, “I’ll be back.”
Half distracted, they say at the same time.
“Make good choices.”
“Be safe.”
Time went past, and Claude had found all that he needed. Finana had yet to come back.
The two men gave each other a knowing look and sighed. Their feet lead before their mind could keep up. They walked over to the aisles of makeup, skincare, body care, and hair care that were grouped around the same area.
Or what Wilson and Claude like to shorten it to: Feesh Bait.
They split up to search the aisles.
It was Wilson who found their turquoise-haired girlfriend in the makeup aisle. She had an arm full of a mix of makeup, skin care, body care, and hair care products. Starry-eyed, Finana was examining another product in her hand, Wilson not even going to attempt to guess what it was.
He coughed loudly to catch her attention, and Finana’s shoulder noticeably tense. She comically turns towards him with an innocent smile, “Heyyyy, babeee,” She attempted —failing— to hide the objects.
“Don’t ‘hey, babe’ me.” he narrowed his eyes, sending a quick text to Claude of their whereabouts.
Fortunately, Claude had just been making his way there already. He walked toward the makeup aisle, arriving behind her, “What you got there, sweetheart?”
Finana slowly tilts her head back to look up at him. She smiles sheepishly, “Ohhhh, heyyyy.”
Claude’s gaze softened at how adorable she was but schooled a stern expression. “We talked about this.”
The woman positions her head back to normal and groans, “But I need all of this.”
“No, you don’t need all of it, and you know it.” Wilson stepped closer, voice strict.
“But- but- but-”
“No buts! Put them back,” the blonde demanded, grabbing a few products from her pile and putting them back on the shelf.
“But what about-”
“No.”
“At least ju-”
“No.”
“Pleaseeeeeeeee,” Finana whined, “Just one thing.”
Wilson sighed, watching her beg continuously. Finana’s eyebrows were pinched, and puppy eyes pleading. He looked up to Claude, raising a brow and the other nods in defiance.
“Only. One.” Finana beamed, nodding.
“Yes, sir,” she saluted but dropped a few things because of doing so. She winced at the sound it, “Oopsie.”
Finana bent to clean up her accident. Claude and Wilson follow. Once they finished cleaning, it was time for Finana to decide the lucky product that would get to come home with her.
But she forgot how indecisive she is.
“I don’t know which one to get.”
“Eenie meenie minie moe?” Wilson suggested.
“But what if I don’t like the moe.”
“You gotta choose soon, Feesh,” Claude rushed.
“Aaaahhh, I can’t! I want everything!” She exaggerated.
“How about we choose for you?”
Finana thought about it for a second. “Okay…” she reluctantly agreed, “But! Do it seriously!”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Leaving Don Quijote, Claude bought all the ingredients he needed, and he and Wilson chose a face cream that Wilson had overheard before that Finana needed.
Wilson carries the bags as they make their way to the car, Claude opening the door for him, closing it and doing the same for Finana.
With everyone settled and buckled. Claude began backing up.
They safely made it home. Finana unlocking the door with her respective house key while Wilson begs her to hurry up or, “I swear Finana I will pee on our front door right now. Please. Hurry up.”
Out of spite, the woman did the opposite and turned the key slowly. At the sound of the click, Wilson shoved his way through to force the door open as fast as possible and forces his Converse off his feet, “I’m going to fucking pee my pants! Holy shit!”
Finana laughed at his torture, with Claude belting out his own as well. The both took off their shoes and positioned them nicely on the shoe rack, Finana doing the same for Wilson’s.
Claude places the bags of groceries onto the kitchen counter, and Finana takes the opportunity to hug him from behind, the man releasing an ‘oof’ at the impulsive action. His surprise subsides quickly, and he continues to take the ingredients out of the bag.
“Do you need help with cooking?” Finana asked, voice muffled.
Claude grinned, “No need this time. Thanks, though, hon’.” He could feel her nod against him and sink closer into him. Her hands slip below his cropped shirt, and he shudders at her cold hands. Now that she felt his skin against hers, she pleasingly sighed and enveloped her arms around him again.
She squeezes him twice and releases Claude from her embrace. Thinking that was the end of it, the man didn’t expect Finana to lift his shirt and press a lingering kiss in the center of his back. Finished with her affections, she dropped the hold of the fabric and smoothed out the wrinkles. “Okay, I’ll take a quick nap then.”
Before she retreated to their shared bedroom, Claude dropped whatever vegetable was in his hands and clutched onto one of Finana’s arms, pulling her back to him. He stared into her lilac eyes for a few seconds, soaking into her hypnotizing gaze, “I want a kiss here too.” She followed his pointer finger, and it led her to his inviting lips.
Finana willingly heeded his proposition and placed a tender, loving kiss onto his lips, her smaller hands holding his face. The desire to give him another kiss outweighed all else, and she did just that. This one was longer with more movement and heat, Claude’s hand caressing her face and gripping her hair at the back of her head.
It was Claude who pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers. “Thank you,” he slants his head to kiss her forehead, “Sleep well, baby.”
Finana dazed, nodded and let go, heading for their bedroom.
In passing, Wilson comes out of the bathroom, and she sets a hand on his shoulder. He takes the hint to lean in that direction, and she gives him a peck.
“Where are you going?” Wilson asked curiously, watching her walk away.
“Take a nap. Wanna join?” she smiled sleepily, drowsiness evident in her eyes.
Wilson was never one to turn down a napping session with either or both of his partners, especially at that moment when his body was begging for him to nap. But before he could fully agree, he wanted to check on Claude first, “Sure sweetheart, let me just check on our boyfriend real quick, okay?” he placed his hand on her shoulders, giving a comforting squeeze.
Finana nodded at that and turned to her original path. “Hurry up,” she wearily ordered.
The blonde chuckled softly, gently providing an encouraging push, “Yes, ma’am."
With that, Wilson hurries to the kitchen. He sees Claude skillfully slicing the vegetables with quick precision. His body was facing him but the other had yet noticed the blonde. It wasn’t until he was right beside the man that he noticed, “Jesus, Wilson, baby, you scared the shit out of me,” thankfully he wasn’t holding the knife at the time, but was gathering the vegetables to put in a bowl instead.
“Hello.”
“Hi.”
Wilson leans against Claude’s side, the other’s arm wrapping around his waist, the hand on Wilson’s hip being massaged. The blonde’s head fits in the crook of his neck, bringing his arms up to snake Claude’s waist until his hand touches the curve of his waist. “You okay without any help?”
Wilson usually lends a hand to at least prepare the vegetables to lessen the amount of time needed to create the dish. He was there supplying his service when making the seafood boil Finana wanted. The blonde appreciated those times with his boyfriend because he got to spend time with him while also learning. Admittedly at the time, all he had to do was cut some potatoes and keep an eye on the boiling pots, but Claude assured Wilson repeatedly that his help meant a lot.
“Don’t worry, love, you can take a nap with our Feeshy.” Wilson was about to ask if he was sure, but Claude, knowing him, interrupted, “Promise I’ll be alright.” He kisses the top of Wilson’s head, adding to his reassurance.
Wilson hums, “Alright,” he squeezes Claude’s waist, “Can’t wait to try it, mon chéri.” His accent slips at the endearment as he takes his leave.
With Claude, he froze at the language switch, a growing redness rising up his neck. Wilson rarely uses French endearments with Claude and Finana; the times he did, he was drunk or sleepy —or during heavy intimate moments. So whenever they do hear Wilson call them so affectionately in his mother tongue, they short circuit.
In a heated make-out session. Wilson was seated on Claude’s lap, tongues dancing with each other and hands roaming on each other’s bodies. Claude pulled away at one point, earning a pained whine from the other. He was about to tease him, but Wilson beat him to it, “No, don’t stop, please,” he desperately breathed out, and Claude’s heavy breathing shifted into an amused huff, “Mon amour,” the blonde moaned out.
At that, Claude’s breath hitched, gaze turning hungry, “Say it again,” the hold on Wilson’s waist tightened possessively.
“Mon amour.”
After that, let’s just say that they had a very passionate night full of love and Wilson full of… something else.
Claude shakes his head at the naughty memory and forces himself to focus on the task at hand.
Wilson enters their bedroom, seeing that the lights are off and the curtains are drawn closed. Finana must have pulled down their blackout blinds since there’s almost no light. The blonde listlessly drags his feet to the closet to find clothes meant for sleeping. At the corner of his eye, a shine draws him to take a gander at the objects. He finds Finana’s rings haphazardly dumped into her open jewelry box while her locket necklace and charm bracelet lay neatly on top of her drawer. Smiling at that he shook his head, fond over how sentimental Finana could be.
Finding clothes, he strips and changes into comfortable sweats that probably belonged to Claude and a loose shirt, throwing his outside clothes onto the ground for him to fuss over later. His only priority is napping with his girlfriend.
He finds a lump in the bed. The lump being Finana buried under the blanket. Wilson wonders how she doesn’t suffocate under there. He huffed at the thought and pulled the covers to make room for himself.
At the feel of her warmth leaving, the turquoise-haired one peeks at the reason. “Willy? That you?” Finana rasped, sleep apparent in her voice.
He creates room beside her, pulling the blanket over the both of them, “It’s me, baby.”
The answered question earned Wilson an arm engulfing his waist and a leg over his hip. She pulls him closer with the help of her two limbs, and the blonde willingly allows it. Finana grabs his arm to cuddle her too, “Want cuddles.”
The tired man chuckles softly and obeys, hand burying into her hair, massaging her scalp and pulling her closer to make their position more cozy. He kisses her forehead, endeared, “Sleep, mon cœur.”
The multicolored-eyed man finished successfully the dish he had been wanting to try. Creamy pesto pasta with chicken. He created the pesto cream with chicken and pasta separately, giving the person the power to ratio each however they want. With the sauce being his top concern, Claude had taste tested it himself and was satisfied with the result. The delicious, savory taste of the creamy pesto and chicken melted on his tongue delightfully. He clapped loudly and rubbed both hands together. “Okay.”
The blonde-purple haired began to set up the plates and forks, carrying the pots one by one to be at the center of the table. Afterward, he rummaged through the cabinets for each of their respective mugs.
On a random day, Wilson had the impulsive thought of the three buying a mug for each other for fun. Wilson had to buy Claude’s, Claude had to buy Finana’s, and Finana had to buy Wilson’s. The other two agreed to the idea, always willing to go along with their boyfriend’s silly notions.
Claude received a cat mug. The ears pointed upwards along the rim, curved so no one’s eyes get poked, and the tail was the handle. The cat’s face was smug, with its tongue peeking out and winking. The kicker was the words on the back of the mug that said ‘I’m the best kitten! Meow!’ When told to look at the back Claude had belted a laugh so hard he choked, “No fucking way.”
Finana was given a mug with dual handles. It was molded and painted to look like a baby bottle. The only thing that was missing was the nipple, but it was enough for Finana to hit the gifter repeatedly, “You motherfucker! What the hell is this!?” she shouted, breaking out into a laugh at the end.
Wilson’s mug was custom-made. Finana ordered a simple looking mug but requested for the thumbnail of Wilson’s ASMR stream to be printed onto it. The second Wilson saw the traumatizing sight, he screamed his usual, “What?!”
Claude smiled to himself at the memory and began to fill each of the mugs. Wilson’s with water, and Finana and Claude’s with Cola.
Grabbing two mugs in one hand and using his other to hold the last one, he made his way to the dining table to place them beside each plate.
With all of that finished, he headed for their bedroom.
Claude carefully opened the door as quietly as possible and took in the sight of his cuddled-up partners, a smile stretching on his face. Before waking them up, he decides to change his clothes into some sweats and a tank top. He gathered his dirty clothes along with Wilson’s that he found on the floor and shoved them into the basket in their bathroom.
The blonde-purple haired man walks towards his lovers with a plan in mind. He crawled his way from the bottom edge of the bed until he was able to lay his entire body weight on top of both of them.
The added weight forced a groan out of the two under him, “Rise and shineee~.”
Wilson was the first to come to and mutters a, “You finished?”
Claude grins at his hoarse and deepened voice, giving Wilson a smooch under his eye, “Yes, sunshine~.”
The sound of a woman’s groans directed their focus onto her, “Hello,” Finana yawned out, trying to blink the sleep away.
“Hi, love,” realizing that the only breakfast they had was waffles from the freezer that they toasted and that it’s barely lunch, Claude informed them that, “Brunch is ready.”
Finana stretched her arms upwards, moaning and groaning out through cracking bones, “Okay, I’ll be up in a second,” she yawned again, settling her arms back down above her, eyes closing again. Claude chuckles at that, giving a kiss on her exposed shoulder.
“Okay. A few seconds.”
Claude lifts himself up and away from the other two, now sitting at the edge of the bed, “Hold on.” Wilson reaches for his arm, making him stop, “I’ll come with you.”
Once again, Claude and Wilson were patiently waiting for their girlfriend to emerge from their room. This time, instead of cuddling on the couch, Wilson offers his help to clean up the kitchen counters with Claude but saves the dishes for later.
The second they finished, Finana came out of the room clad in her fuzzy pajama pants and Wilson’s shirt that revealed one shoulder.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Wilson laughed, endeared by her noticeable bed hair. In return, he received the finger from Finana.
She sat in her respective chair where her mug was placed, and the scent of Claude’s hard work woke her right up. “It smells amazing, Claude!”
The other two sat down as well, desperate to eat as well. “She’s right. It even looks mouthwatering.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever… Just eat,” Claude hurriedly responded, flustered by their praises.
Serving tongs now in Finana’s hand, she stands up to make it easier to retrieve the noodles, “Don’t mind if I do~.”