Work Text:
Despite the cold weather outside, Sleep’s manor was filled with warmth in the late morning. It was a rare sunny day in England, but the chilliness of winter kept the vessels indoors, instead opting to open curtains and blinds to bask in the elusive sunlight. Vessel had wanted to go for an early morning walk near the lake, but had changed his mind quickly when faced with the fierce winds when opening the back door, choosing to enjoy his morning cup of straight black coffee while sitting on the cracked tiles by the old screen door. He had called it “photosynthesizing” when II entered the kitchen to make breakfast for his partners, who had spotted his larger lover sitting in a sunbeam with their cat Jerry and asked what he was doing.
The two men coexisted in silence for quite awhile, until the smell of bacon and eggs lured III downstairs, hunger radiating through the bond. He was dressed in a black shirt that said “slut for vampires” in red text on the front and a pair of boxer shorts, leaving IV upstairs in bed who was no doubt still asleep, if the silence from his corner of their minds was anything to go off of.
IV tended to sleep in late, sometimes sleeping for so long that it could probably be medically considered a coma. He would trudge upstairs around 10pm and wouldn’t emerge from bed until 11am the next day, sometimes wrapped in a fluffy blanket that usually belonged to Vessel but always with chaotic hair. He would frequently share a bed with III, as he seemed to be the only one who could withstand the tall man’s snoring.
III, per usual, wrapped himself around the back of the nearest life form upon his arrival in the kitchen. This morning's victim was II, who grumbled something about needing to move around the kitchen while III clung to his torso. Despite II’s protests, III sighed contently, feeling the affection radiating from the shorter man, and mumbled a ‘good morning’ into the nape of his smaller lover's neck.
It was the soft sound of a ceramic mug being set on the tiled floor that got III’s attention, and the tall platinum-blond man perked up from where he curled around II’s back.
“Vess? Whatcha doin’ on the floor?”
“Photosynthesizing.”
“Oh.” III paused before asking, “Can I join?”
II quickly shoved III off of himself- despite the reluctance that flared in the bond- and herded him towards Vessel, murmuring out “Yes, please, go leech onto Vessel,” in faux irritation. III happily joined his equally-as-tall partner on the ground, pushing the mug away and taking its spot by Vessel’s side. The mug was a cheap thing that they had found at a thrift store in America while on tour, and had “MY FAVORITE PEOPLE CALL ME DADDY” written on it in big, bold, rustic letters.
The mug had been gifted to Vessel jokingly by III, and had a small chip on the rim, but it was his favorite mug, and he would throw a tantrum if anything happened to it. The four men had been collecting odd mugs throughout the years, as seen by II currently enjoying his tea in a mug shaped like a cowboy boot from a Cracker Barrel, and brewing III’s coffee in a soft pink mug with poorly printed sunflowers lining the bottom, the middle taken up by a cursive Bible verse. IV had advised against buying the mug as soon as he saw it in the hole-in-the-wall antique store, afraid that Sleep would see it as blasphemous. III had simply laughed and taken it up to the checkout counter regardless, concerning the poor cashier with his hysterical laughter.
III nestled into Vessel’s side, who leaned his cheek against his blond-haired partner’s head and pressed a small kiss to the crown of it, asking a whispered question about how he slept. III hummed wordlessly in response, pushing forward through the bond everything he wouldn't say: tiredness, contentment, love. His eyes drooped while II prepared his coffee. The domesticity was something Vessel was still getting accustomed to, so unused to having not one, but three attentive lovers. As if reading his mind, Jerry stretched and meowed softly, butting her head against Vessel's arm in a soft request for pets. Ah, yes. Can’t forget the cat, too.
The sleek black cat had been a stray, spending her days lounging on the back porch of the manor until III found her under the porch chairs one day, scooping her up despite the risk of fleas and demanding his partners that they keep her. They had ultimately caved, and when they had demanded they keep the name Jerry after finding out he was actually a she, III was the one who ended up caving, if only because “Jerrica” never seemed to stick.
II soon joined the two on the floor, delivering III his coffee and running a hand through Vessel's hair, letting his tall, quiet lover lean back against his legs for a moment and soak in the affection before excusing himself to go wake up IV. He made his exit after telling his lovers to grab the breakfast he had finished for them and set out on the difficult task of waking their fourth. II headed upstairs with a silent prayer to Sleep that the kitchen stayed in one piece while he was upstairs. III and Vessel stood up and stretched, Vessel depositing his mug in the sink and serving the two of them plates full of scrambled eggs and crispy bacon while III took a seat at the island.
II carefully avoided the creaky panel on the steps and crept down the hall to IV’s bedroom. He slowly and silently nudged open the door, where his third and fourth had passed out after a particularly scream-y game of Call of Duty the previous night. II found the man curled up under several fluffy blankets and a thick duvet, rolled into a tiny ball. Coincidentally, he and III even had compatible sleeping positions. Where III preferred to starfish out, IV was happy to curl in a ball in a corner of the mattress, content to let III have his space.
After carefully closing the bedroom door behind him, II made his way across the tidy room and sat on the edge of the bed closest to his sleeping lover. A gentle hand found its way to IV’s hair to caress it softly, brushing strands behind his ear that had come loose from sleep. An adoring kiss was pressed onto IV’s temple, and II’s free hand found its way to IV’s shoulder to rub up and down his arm until he woke. A sleepy noise, not unlike that of a cat’s chirp, came from IV’s throat as he took a deep breath and peeled his eyes open.
“Mmgh... Morning…” IV mumbled, stifling a yawn behind his hand.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” II responded, voice dripping with affection as he pressed another soft kiss to IV’s forehead and allowed himself to be pulled down into a short cuddle by his sleepy boyfriend, love pouring through both of their minds.
“What time's it?" IV shoved his face into II’s neck, his breathing still heavy from sleep.
“Nearly 10:30, Three and Vess are downstairs having breakfast. Would you like me to bring something up?”
“Mmm, no… I’ll get up,” IV murmured, reluctantly letting go of his partner to sit up and stretch. His movements were sluggish with sleep, but he eventually found the energy to swing his legs over the side of the mattress and stare blankly at the wall to process being awake. II stole a soft peck before heading back downstairs to ensure the kitchen hadn’t been burned down and left IV to get ready.
By the time II got back, III and Vessel had devolved into a playful argument, which started with III flinging a piece of egg at Vessel across the table after a smart comment that neither of the two could remember anymore. II gave each of them a pointed stare as he stood in the doorway, silencing them quickly. The guilt prickled into the bond like pins and needles. Both culprits pointed at the other at the same time, shifting the blame.
III glared in mock-offense and gasped. “Nuh-uh! He started it!”
II cut off whatever argument Vessel would have responded with, dragging a hand down his face. “I don’t care who started it, you’re both cleaning it up. God, I leave you two alone for five minutes…”
Vessel looked like the epitome of a kicked puppy as he stood and went to grab a wet rag to wipe down the counter, pouting the whole time. IV joined them right as the three of them got settled, giving a pat to Jerry on his way to the table while wearing a too-large shirt that simply had the word “shirt” printed on the front in the papyrus font, undoubtedly stolen from III. The rest of his outfit included a pair of his own joggers, fuzzy socks, and wild bedhead. III whined overdramatically as soon as IV entered, trying to garner sympathy.
“Ivyyyy, Two was being mean!”
“Don’t care, you probably deserved it.” Love, Affection, Playfulness
“No I didn’t! I’m a perfect angel!” Guilt, Joy, Mischief
“Uh-huh, sure. Whatever you say, mate.” IV refused to entertain his lover but still gave him a good morning kiss, plopping down next to Vessel at the table afterwards and smiling softly when II placed a loaded plate in front of him, thanking him with a mint-flavoured kiss. They settled into a comfortable silence, no words needed between them as they basked in the love flooding their minds and food filling their stomachs.
IV finally broke the silence as he finished swallowing his last strip of bacon. “Thank you, love. Do you need help with washing up?”
II smiled, gratitude flowing through him. “No, thank you. You can go relax, I’ll handle it.” IV obediently stood up, bringing his plate to the sink just to make II’s job a little easier, and pressed a firm and affectionate smooch to his second’s lips. II smiled and stood as well, grabbing Vessel and III’s plates before heading to the sink to wash up. Vessel pushed out from his seat at the table and brushed a kiss to his loves’ foreheads before murmuring that he was going down to the studio.
III was currently in the living room, his side of the bond a fizz and crackle of creativity. He dug through the ottoman to retrieve scrapbooking supplies that he almost always kept near him; an activity recommended to him by his therapist to wind down and relax. It never worked as intended, his brain always working overtime to think of compositions and collage layouts, but it was certainly a fun hobby.
II soon followed III into the living room, grabbing his current book and cozying up onto the couch, looking up briefly to get III’s attention. “You’d better not get glue stains on the couch.”
“Oh, come off it Twoobles! It’s seen worse.” The bond sparked with playful irritation and a hint of a challenge.
“I’m not saying it hasn’t, but I don’t want to have to get it dry cleaned again.”
III grinned widely at the memory of what had happened last time that led them to having to get the couch dry cleaned. The awkward conversation with the cleaner made II flush bright red any time he walked into the living room for a whole week after the event. III could practically feel the mortification from II like it was yesterday. He chuckled and waggled his eyebrows. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind getting it dirty again…”
II’s bond flooded with embarrassment. “Three!” Suddenly, III found himself with a face full of cushion flying straight towards him. After tossing the pillow back, he giggled and dumped his collage materials onto the couch next to II: magazines, sticker sheets, a thick, worn journal, glue, and some scraps from receipts and product labels.
Sliding his headphones on, III clambered into II’s lap and got comfy, his chest draped over II’s legs. One of II’s hands found the small of III’s back from where his shirt had ridden up and rubbed gently, receiving a burst of comfort and pleasure from III’s mind. II settled back into his book as he let III lounge on top of him, occasionally bobbing his head or twitching his foot to whatever song was playing in his headphones.
The pair lapsed into comfortable silence until III spoke suddenly, in the middle of cutting out a chameleon from a wildlife magazine. “Hey, Two? Didja know that some types of chameleons will give birth straight onto trees and the goo from the birth will help the baby stick to the tree?”
II gave a hum and nod, not entirely paying attention to his partner. III set the scissors down firmly. “I’m serious! They just fuck right off, too. The mum births them and then they just run off!” III’s bond was filled with determination and interest.
II smiled fondly at him and rubbed his back once more, watching as III went back to his journal and glued down a cut-out of a chameleon onto the corner of the page. He patted it gently before rummaging through his pile of supplies for a sticker sheet, peeling off a couple puffy reptile stickers and placing them around the paper, smiling to himself at the sight.
“How do you even learn this stuff? I swear, the only thing in your mind every day is ‘eat, sleep, animal facts, bass’,” II teased, gently pinching his ass through the boxer briefs he was wearing, earning a squeak and wriggle from III. “And why don’t you ever wear trousers? It’s like you’re allergic.”
“Ivy got me a book of animal facts for my birthday, remember?” III said, smoothing his hand over his finished collage spread. “Trousers suck! They brush against my legs and make me feel like there’s bugs under my skin. Hate ‘em.”
II shook his head with a smile and patted III’s ass. “Weirdo. We need to get you booty shorts. Ones with the stupid phrases and shit.”
“Ooh, I could start a collection of them!” III mused, propping himself up onto his elbows from his initial flopped position.
“Much like your sunglasses and your stickers?”
“Exactly like my sunglasses and stickers!” III turned over with a smile, affection flowing through him as he gazed up at his partner, who returned his warm gaze with one of his own. Lost in their own little world, neither noticed Vessel emerge from the studio until he laid a hand on II’s head, a jolt of fear running through the smaller man before calming at the realization that it was his lover.
Vessel chuckled gently. “Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to spook you. Was gonna grab a snack, you two want anything?” He was already heading off to the kitchen after blowing III a kiss, who mimed catching it and pressing it to his heart.
“A cuppa tea would be great,” II responded, his hand resting on III’s stomach and rubbing a soothing circle. “Is Ivy still upstairs, do you know?”
“I think so, I’ve been in the studio though,” Vessel called back from the kitchen, the sound of a cupboard closing echoing through the house. As if on cue, IV walked downstairs, smiling at his partners and plopping down on the floor next to III’s face. He gave his lanky partner a soft, close-mouthed kiss before pulling back to look at the journal spread out on the couch cushions.
“What’re you makin’, baby?” IV asked, giving III a soft smile and projecting adoration across the bond. III smiled and flipped back over on II’s lap to properly show off the collage, launching into an explanation of the visuals and sharing the same fun chameleon facts with IV that he had with II earlier.
IV listened intently as Vessel returned with the tea, having made some for all three of his partners while he himself carried a bag of crisps. Vessel sat on II’s other side, an arm around his second’s shoulders. Jerry trotted in and followed Vessel from where she had been lounging in the kitchen for the past couple hours. She hopped up onto Vessel's lap after he got settled, content to take another nap surrounded by warmth. Vessel’s free hand found her fur and smoothed it down, partially listening as III began spewing more animal facts like ‘did you know that some snails can self-reproduce?’ Which… No. No he did not.
Meeting II’s gaze, the pair exchanged a soft peck as the bond overflowed with warmth and affection. II’s lips were soft against Vessel’s own chapped ones as he leaned closer, the arm around II’s shoulder coming to gently scratch the nape of his boyfriend’s neck. A soft hum sounded from II’s chest, and the two of them only parted when IV cooed and III fake-gagged. II shot III a glare, but Vessel laughed and stole one more quick kiss. All four of them lapsed into silence once more, enjoying the quiet between them.
It was rare for them to have such lazy days like this, as most of their time was spent in the studios practicing or rehearsing. Vessel and II spent much of their time on calls with their manager, organizing new tour dates and discussing future album plans. The free time wasn’t common, so it was always cherished. The only sounds in the room were the soft scratches of Vessel’s nails in II’s hair, Jerry’s purrs, and the occasional gust of wind against the manor’s windows.
IV eventually stood, gently picking up III’s craft materials and carefully placing them back in the ottoman. He returned to the couch and lifted III’s head enough to wiggle himself underneath it and rest III’s head on his plush thighs, gratitude and pure love filling the bond. III stretched out to grab the TV remote and put on some random nature documentary that both he and Vessel particularly enjoyed, and the group of men lapsed into comfortable silence with their tea and their love, content to spend the rest of the day wrapped up in warm blankets and arms.