Work Text:
He's at the elevator, along with the rest of the group for the run. They're too loud, as usual. He hates it.
What doesn't he hate though?
He sees the hatch open and the familiar shop come up.
Nobody even spares a glance to the flower, who, by now, was awkwardly trying to get something bought, or at least for someone to talk to him.
Shrimpo checks his tapes. Only 27. He wasn't fast at all, and if he took any, he was sure Sprout would kill him. Even knowing that, from the selection of items, he can't afford any (there was a box of dand-aids, a protein bar and instructions), he approaches the flower.
He slams the table, leaving his tapes there. No other exchange needed. The flower smiles at him.
───────────────────────────────────
By the time the run ended, they had reached floor 20. They decided to call it off as it was late and they were tired.
Shrimpo makes his way to the flower's room silently, on one heart. He was never really healed by Sprout. Nor Cosmo. Heck, not even Ginger. Not that he could judge them.
He didn't have band-aids, he couldn't buy them either.
Whatever.
He enters the room, kicking the door open and then kicking it closed as well, stomping to Dandy's bed and plopping down next to the asleep flower.
He's hurt, a particularly deep gash that Twisted Scraps had made bleeding onto his red shirt and staining it with ichor, but he doesn't care enough about it to heal himself.
—Hey...?— The flower mutters drowsily, turning around to see the other toon, sleepiness leaving his body when he sees the ichor. —Oh dearie! You're bleeding, oh no, no, no... Here, I'll fix it.— He kisses Shrimpo's cheek (much to the other's fake dismay) and runs to get a medkit from his supplies.
He comes back. —Okay, off we go with the shirt!— He smiles (as usual, although it's more intimate, it's warm and loving and reserved for his favorite toon's eyes only) and bares Shrimpo's body to heal the wound. —Mh...seems like I'll have to talk to Sprout a bit.— He frowns and sighs.
It may have sounded like a threat but Shrimpo knows Dandy better than many believe. When he says he's going to talk, he means that he's actually talking, not hitting him or whatever. —NO. NO NEED.— He groans. There's no way to change his mind, that he knows.
He peppers kisses across Shrimpo's tail, which is moving in a wagging movement by now, then goes back to patching him up. —Aaand done! You'll heal sooner than you think.— He kisses his cheek, then his lips.
—I BETTER.— He frowns and squeezes Dandy's hand, tempted to throw the medkit to the floor and cuddle the flower.
He restrains himself enough to have it taken away carefully.
After a while, he can feel Dandy slipping him into another shirt, a rather comfortable shirt, mind you, one with no textures that feel wrong, then a weight, mattress dipping back in Dandy's side. Shrimpo lays next to him again. —I HATE CUDDLING.
—Even with me?— He teases, and Shrimpo lets out a long groan in annoyance, but eventually, in the tiniest, most defensive voice, he answers. —Cuddling is bearable with you.
Dandy wraps an arm around him, and Shrimpo does the same with Dandy, leg on top of the flower's. —SLEEP.— Dandy chuckles, kissing the spot between his antennae and resting his head there, with the other pressing pecks on Dandy's green petal. Slightly aggressive but yeah, it's Shrimpo, that's the gentlest he can get.