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Valk sat on one of the many couches in his house, purring away despite the weight squishing him against it. He’d been there for about an hour because he would do anything for ‘his Traffy’, including letting the larger inphernal rest upon him. If anything, he enjoyed it, even if the physical sensation became a little uncomfortable after more than ten minutes. His paws rested low upon Traffic’s sides. His face was pressed into Traffic’s shoulder, and it was nice to breathe in the smell of his shirt because the smell was Traffic’s. Traffic’s chin, however, rested upon Valk’s shoulder, positioned in a way that allowed Valk to listen to Traffic’s soft, slow breathing; it came in a pattern that indicated that he’d fallen asleep. It was the only noise Valk heard at the moment, other than rain. Traffic’s arms were around Valk’s shoulders - the only reason they didn’t fall off was because they were stuck between Valk and the couch - and Valk felt the fabric of Traffic’s sleeves on the back of his neck, just slightly.
Valk was barely awake himself. He felt so warm and safe and soft. He slept around Traffic often because of those feelings; it made it far too easy to drift off. Before he could, though, he heard Traffic’s breath stutter and felt the shop owner move. Then, lips were on his cheek.
“Ah.. no kisses right now, please,” Valk murmured. Traffic obliged. “Morning, pumpkin. Sleep well?”
“Mm-hmm,” Traffic hummed, voice quiet, raspy, sleepy. He sat up straighter and stretched, back cracking (after all, he had to slouch if he sat in Valk’s lap, lest the smaller’s face be squished against his chest. Not that Valk would dislike that, though). He pushed himself out of Valk’s lap to lay down on the couch, pulling Valk with him.
“Guh,” Valk said. “You’re nice and comfy, but I wanna get up and eat. I’m hungry.”
“My bad.” Traffic mumbled. “Y’know, you’re right… I wouldn’t mind having somethin’ to eat, either.”
Valk stood, taking a moment to adjust to being upright again, and Traffic followed suit. The two went to the kitchen, and on the way, Valk made sure to hold Traffic’s paw because his clinginess was neverending. Valk opened the fridge.
“Umm,” he began, brows furrowing. “You want spaghetti?”
“Yessirrrr.”
Valk tittered and closed the fridge, instead standing on his tippy-toes to grab the box of dry noodles at the top of it. Angel hair, because Valk disliked the regularly sized ones. He set the box on the counter, grabbed a pot, and placed it in the clean side of the nearby sink. Once it was three-fourths full, he brought the pot to the stove and set it on a burner. A careful paw turned the burner on and violet eyes locked onto the aforementioned burner to know when it’d been lit. Once fire appeared, Valk turned the burner on high, and the clicking of the lighter halted.
Traffic sat in a nearby chair as he watched Valk, interested in what the inphernal was doing. He enjoyed watching Valk, sometimes; it tended to fluster Valk when he turned to see Traffic looking at him with that lovely, caring gaze of his. There was always a sweet softness behind Traffic’s eyes that made some wonderful warmth bloom in Valk’s chest every time those eyes were on him.
Valk didn’t notice yet, though. After he began boiling the water, he made his way over to a purple radio that rested by the end of the kitchen counter, feet barely making a sound against the hardwood floor as he walked. He hummed as he went. Pulling a drawer open just below the radio, he took a look through it - it was full of CDs. He’d enjoyed them since he was little, and some kind of nostalgia for them seemed to stick. He enjoyed listening to them when he cooked or baked, now.
Valk pulled out a case that said “Jazz Classics” with a picture of a shadowed inphernal playing the saxophone, the background blue. He opened the case and removed the first disc (there were three) and opened the CD player of the radio, then gingerly placed the CD inside of it.
Valk closed the case, then the CD player, and set the case on the counter beside the radio before actually turning on the radio itself. It whirred, disk spinning, and Valk clicked the skip button until the number displayed on the radio was a seven.
Traffic’s eyes met Valk’s when Valk turned around, and “Bonaparte’s Retreat” by Drumstick and His Playground Jazz crackled through the radio’s speakers, and Valk’s thoughts seemed to vanish for a moment.
Though, Valk’s attention was soon drawn to the bubbling of water, and his eyes landed on the boiling water upon the stove. He hummed in acknowledgment and made his way back to the pot. He pulled a handful of dry noodles from the already open box of spaghetti beside it, then placed them into the water and lowered the heat; a pasta spoon was removed from a nearby drawer by Valk, and he pushed the rest of the spaghetti into the water. The pot was small enough that the top of the noodles stuck out when put in, but Valk disliked breaking the noodles. He always waited a few seconds for them to soften enough for him to push them the rest of the way in, as he’d just done. Valk took a nearby container of salt and made sure to pour some into the water as well.
Valk turned to look at Traffic. Traffic smiled at him. He smiled back. Traffic stood and approached Valk, and the two seemed to silently come to a consensus on what they’d like to do as they waited for the noodles to cook. Their paws joined as they began to step in time to the jazz that filled their heads, and they each thought that this, perhaps, was the domesticity they needed. The setting of the room was one that seemed perfect for this, too; the kitchen was lit warmly, comfortably, similarly to how the temperature felt. It was filled with the quiet, idle noise of music, of course, as well as the bubbling of water and the pitter-patter of rain.
The two kept swaying and stepping as Drumstick sang about how he took his dear in his arms, told her of her many charms, and kissed her while the guitars played the Bonaparte’s Retreat. Traffic leaned down and gently knocked his horns against Valk’s while they moved. Valk trilled and scraped one of his horns against Traffic’s to reciprocate the gesture. The song came to an end, and the next track began to play. They didn’t stop dancing.
After a couple more songs, Valk slipped his arms around Traffic and pulled the inphernal into a comfortable embrace, and Traffic returned it. Valk sighed into the hug. They stayed like that for a moment.
“I love you,” Valk murmured, his voice quiet as if he was afraid to shatter the moment like glass.
“I love you too.” Traffic’s voice was soft, too.
“Mmh, I need to check the spaghetti.” The two parted, and Valk took a few steps to get to the stove. He took the pasta spoon and lifted a few noodles from the water. After blowing on them, he used his claw to cut a noodle and ate a small portion of it. “It’s done.”
Traffic handed Valk a colander from a cupboard, and Valk took it and placed it in the sink. Then, he turned off the burner and removed the pot from it, and he poured the pot’s contents into the colander. The sink bubbled as water flooded down through the colander and into it, and the steam that left the water crowded Valk’s face. While Valk took care of that, Traffic took two plates from a cupboard and grabbed two forks from a drawer as well as a jar of spaghetti sauce from inside the fridge.
“Thanks, pumpkin,” Valk smiled softly whilst he plated the spaghetti. He let Traffic pour a very generous amount of sauce onto each plate. They each took one plate and fork and brought them to the table, sitting across from each other, and Valk was the first to begin eating. Though, he did not consume it slowly by any means.
“Slow down,” Traffic chuckled. “It’s all yours, baby.”
“Sorry!” Valk laughed and slowed down as he was told.
The two went quiet as they ate, and Valk grew thankful for the music playing because it blocked out the noise of chewing. He disliked that noise.
A “psst,” came from Valk. Traffic looked up to see Valk’s plate closer to his, and he tilted his head curiously. Valk pushed the end of a noodle towards Traffic with his fork. The other end of the noodle was in Valk’s mouth. Traffic grinned and took the side being held up to him into his mouth, and the two couldn’t quit giggling as their faces grew close as they ate more and more of it. Eventually, with Valk leaning half of his body over the table, their lips met. It only lasted for a second, but they each giggled and blushed like middle schoolers, and they decided to kiss again before Valk sat back down.
Once they’d finished their food, Traffic took both of their plates and brought them to the sink.
“What a gentleman.” Valk’s cheeks hurt from how long he’d been smiling.
“You’re welcome,” Traffic replied with the same grin while he rinsed off the dishes. When he finished, he came to Valk’s side.
“Hi there.” Valk greeted him.
“Hey.”
“You’re hot.”
“..Wha- where’d that c-come from, huh?”
“Dunno!”
They were back to giggling, and Traffic lifted Valk, who yelped and clung to the other. Traffic went, first, to shut off the radio, and then took Valk with him to Valk’s bedroom. Valk seemed pretty satisfied with that. The short inphernal was softly placed onto the large bed by the other, who carefully joined him on the warm, cozy mattress afterwards.
“Couldn’t wait to get back to cuddling, huh? Thought I was the clingy one.” Valk teased whilst he nestled himself into Traffic’s arms. Traffic only hummed in response.
Perhaps it was okay to rest for just a day every now and then. To find home in each other’s arms, to lazily drift in and out of sleep and do nothing. Perhaps it was nice. Perhaps, what they needed. Valk finally resumed his drifting off, as did Traffic, warm and safe still.
Perhaps it was the domesticity of it.