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Black Pudding twisted the keys to the house as quietly as possible, holding his breath as he listened for the lock to click. Even the faint grind of metal sounded ear shattering this late at night. He'd just spent the day surveying a local gang, yet this was the most tense part of his day.
He slowly pushed the door open, nodding for Bacon Roll to step inside first. She was the least likely to get scolded, especially with a sleep Jerky pressed to her chest. Black Pudding pressed a finger to his lips, begging her to be quiet for his sake, something he rarely asked. Blessedly, she obliged. She returned the gesture, before quietly setting her massive hammer down. How she quietly handled a weapon so large would always amaze him, and tonight he was especially grateful. With a wink, she darted up the stairs, her feet fast but light.
Black Pudding felt relieved when she dissappeared upstairs, but the worst part was far from over. If anything, the real challenge began. He had to squint through the darkness that blanketed the house, an especially difficult task when you only have one eye. Thankfully the house was small enough Black Pudding could feel himself down the hall, his memories from the day serving as his guide. He couldn't imagine what it'd be like if he'd listened to Camembert and sprung for the bigger house. He'd be utterly lost, and probably would have broken something by now, and every other time he'd gotten home late.
Not for the first time he was glad he'd ignored Camembert's nagging. Yes, a bigger house would've been nice and a better long term investment, but they didn't need the extra space. Pudding, Bacon and Jerky were more then comftorble with the space on offer. The three having separate rooms to begin with was a blessing after having shared one for years. They were all thankful for the new found privacy. Bacon Roll and Jerky were, at least. Black Pudding hadn't quiet shaken the roommate role. Hence why while the other two went upstairs, Black Pudding had to slowly creep down the hall, further into the dark.
Every scuff of his shoes against the floor sounded like a stomp, every hesitant breath that escaped his lips a booming yell. It felt like he'd spent an eternity slinking down the hall, holding his breath in case he disturbed the cookies he crept towards. This was so stupid, Black Pudding inwardly scoffed, because Camembert was definitely awake. He'd probably been waiting for him since the promised home time of eleven am, and now it was... Pudding couldn't even remember. It was obscenely late. The scolding he'd get would be an especially annoying and long one. Well, even if Camembert would keep him up till dawn chewing him out, there was no need to ruin a night's sleep for the second cookie.
Further down the dark hallway were two rooms. One as still as a tomb, holding Black Pudding's fate, and the other seeping a very faint purple light and an airy melody. It was enough to put Black Pudding to sleep, if his lingering adrenaline didn't force him awake.
He found himself stopping in front of the glowing door, the light and music ever so inviting. A few more minutes couldn't make anything worse, right? Camembert had probably heard him come in anyways. He already knew he was home, which was the most important part of it. He casted a quick glance to the bedroom door next to it, still as stone, and rested his hand on the door. Slowly, slowly, slowly Black Pudding twisted the knob, every muscle tense as he opened the room.
Soft lighting and music flooded the dark hall, the sight of a bright and cheery nursery greeting him. He hated to admit it, but Camembert had done a wonderful job with the layout. The once white walls had been painted over to a soft yellow, which now glowed from the little night-light in the corner. Little moons and stars swirled around the room, bouncing off the furniture and numerous toys that lined high up shelves. The room was stocked with stuffed animals, puzzles, coloring books- any and all a child could want. To think he once teased Camembert that he'd gone overboard. Half of these Black Pudding had gotten himself. As a child, he himself would've gawked at the idea that these many toys had even existed. Maybe thats why he'd gotten so many. So the little figure in the crib would know exactly how many wonders this world held.
The figure in the crib that was missing.
Black Pudding's heart immediately dropped. They're missing- instinctively he lunged for the light switch, a bolt of adrenaline shooting through him and chasing off any exhaustion. Find them, find them, find them-
As his head jerked towards the opposite wall, out the corner of his eye he saw a large figure sitting in the rocking chair towards the back of the room. He knew Camembert had gotten a frankly absurdly large teddy bear to occupy the chair when empty, but the shadow sitting in it was even larger then that hunk of fluff. He had to squint to focus his vision, the adrenaline shock and dim lighting doing him no favors.
The stars swirled around the room, little flecks of bright light outlining the figure of a slumped over Camembert, his head thrown over the back of the chair and mouth open in a silent snore. Pudding could even see the light glinting off a bit of drool dribbling down his chin. Cradled tightly in his strong arms was the little figure of a cookie, sound asleep against his chest.
Black Pudding slumped against the wall, raw relief flooding his tired limbs. He could've dropped then and there, but he didn't. Instead, his tired eye ate up the sight like a feast.
Camembert was still fully dressed, wearing his pants and a button up entirely unfitting of his day. He could see the once pristine fabric was stained, spotted in baby food and finger paint. His once kept hair was now messily tied behind his head, the three strands scattered over his face. Camembert hadn't even taken off his glasses. He must've just fallen asleep in the chair, probably waiting on Black Pudding to come home. He quietly chuckled. Camembert would definitely regret that in the morning, even with the padding lining the back of the chair. He'd tried his best to make it more comfortable so Pudding could nurse easier, but there was only so long someone could sit in a wooden chair and not reap the consequences.
Quietly he walked towards the pair, his footsteps quieted by the soft carpet. He looked at Camembert in his debauched state, again chuckling. He swept the loose hair out his face, tucking it behind the taller's ear. If you could see yourself now, he laughed. His attention then dropped to the bundle in his arms.
Ah, there they were. Black Pudding had seen them a hundred times, but without fail he felt his heart swell. Like it was the first time he'd seen them all over. Cradled in his partner's arms was little Charcuterie Cookie, their child. About 24 weeks and three days old now, but who's counting? They already had their parents wrapped around their tiny little finger, just the slightest twitch of their head launching Pudding into action.
He gently took hold of the baby, their yellow onesie soft even through his gloves. Unlike his shirt, Camembert had kept them pristine. Not even a speck of lint clung to them. Their chubby little cheeks puffed up, tiny arms twitching. For a moment Pudding worried he'd wake them, and he'd have to spend the next hour soothing both a baby and Charcuterie. He quickly pulled them to his chest. "Shh, shh." Pudding whispered. He slowly rocked them, gently stroking a thumb over their tiny back. Quickly Charcuterie calmed, their features softening as they slipped back asleep. Black Pudding quietly breathed a sigh of relief. Thank the Witches.
Black Pudding took a moment to just observe. Even sound asleep, doing absolutely nothing, they were adorable. They were chubby, dough well padded in soft rolls across their body. It was especially thick around their cheeks, which Charcuterie was in the habit of puffing up when frustrated. They definitely got their father's temper, Black Pudding thought with a laugh. They even got the same look on their face when they got mad, where their eyes would narrow and mouth would thin into a frown. Camembert would never accept it, but it looked equally as cute on him as their baby.
It was funny. They'd inherited Camembert's personality, but barely anything of his looks. The only thing noting his parentage was the pale cheese streaks in their black hair, and their big brown eyes, which were peacefully closed for once. Everything else was Pudding. Their dough, their black hair that was impossible to style (something Black Pudding had long since given up on himself), even down to how their forehead wrinkled when upset. Black Pudding couldn't make them more perfect if he tried. This couldn't be more perfect.
To think he'd been so anxious when he first discovered his pregnancy. He'd never once doubted he'd raise them, a child eventually had always been in the back of his mind, but he'd been terrified if he could raise them properly. Black Pudding treasured his childhood growing up in the Grinders, but he knew it was far from normal. His birth parents had left him before he was old enough to remember them, probably for the best. He'd spent a few years on the streets before Prosciutto had taken him under wing, fighting for scraps and isolating himself from his peers. He'd been ruthless and adrift as a young child, until Prosciutto extended them an invitation to belong. To be apart of something that was doing some good. With that purpose he grew into the man he was today. By his standards he'd turned out alright, but alright wasn't good enough. He wanted his child to have stability, safety, to want for nothing and know they were loved. Something he wasn't sure he could do. They didn't deserve that. His child deserved everything the world had to offer, and from his position he couldn't.
Then there was Camembert, the exact opposite. He was a spoiled little brat who'd grew up with anything he could want and more. Born and raised to take over the crime syndicate that'd terrorized Black Pudding's home since before he was baked. Their coupling was a mistake in itself, and a pregnancy between the two was worse. It was Camembert of all cookies. The hot head, quick trigger, idiot second hand of Lactose. His only redeeming quality at the time had been his looks. Pudding couldn't imagine a worse person to have a baby with.
He'd been more then content to drop off the face of the planet during his pregnancy. At least to Camembert and the rest of his cronies. He'd planned to go through the pregnancy, give birth, then raise the child like nothing had happened. Three months into his scheme, for whatever reason Camembert had been prowling Grinder territory and the two had clashed. Even a moron like Camembert could put two and two together when he saw Black Pudding was visibly pregnant.
He had been furious, going on a rant about "how dare Black Pudding keep his child from him", etcetera etcetera. Black Pudding had tuned him out halfway through. His only focus had been figuring out how to get this egotist off his back. So, in plain words he could understand, Black Pudding laid out his opinions simply. You have too much of a temper to raise a child. You're rash, you're quick to anger, and I dont trust you with a kid. You wanna be apart of their life? Then prove you should be. Black Pudding had thought that'd be the end of that. The idiot wasn't supposed to actually prove it.
Like the brute he was, Camembert had forced himself into Black Pudding's life. They were talking constantly, Camembert had somehow found the platoon's barracks and made himself a nuisance there, and somehow he'd wormed his way inside of all places. Camembert quickly made himself comftorble. Blowing an absurd amount of coin on furnishings, home renovations, pouring hours into fixing leaky pipes and flickering lights Black Pudding had long assumed impossible to. He used to tease Camembert that he nested more then Pudding did.
Camembert woukd get red in the face, bark some half-cocked insult, then get back to whatever he was doing. So easily worming his way into their home, making himself comftorble like he belonged there, showing an attention to detail and capability of forethought Black Pudding didn't know he was capable of.
Camembert had nestled himself so deep into the Grinders that he started joining them on patrols. Purely as a spectator, to make sure Pudding didn't get his ass kicked. The taller was as transparent as glass. For the sake of saving himself the whinning, Black Pudding had let him tag along.
Word had gotten out, apparently. One night the Grinders and the head of House Lactose, of all cookies, had come to blows. Black Pudding fully expected that night to be the end of it. Camembert would side with the estate, as he always did, and the two would part ways. No more making their base a home, no more strolls where they chatted and bickered, no more quiet moments that came to them shockingly easy. Pudding had pretended his chest didn't ache at the thought. This was always going to end up like this, he'd told himself. That didn't make it sting less.
Yet Camembert, idiot of all idiots, loud and brash and a nuisance wherever he went, had done possibly the stupidest thing thrown himself in front of Black Pudding. If Brie hadn't jerked her arm at the last minute, Camembert would have taken an actual bullet for him. Pudding could've killed him himself.
Like it or not though, Camambert had proven himself, and it was un-gentlemanly for Black Pudding to reneg on his deal. Camembert had spent the night in the Grinders base that day. Sharing a bed with Black Pudding.
Now here they were, in a proper house in Meat Boulevard that Camembert had used the last of his coin to get them. Black Pudding was home after an exhausting day, cradling their child, while Camembert snored in the rocking chair after having dutifully tended to them all day. Pudding didn't think he could dream of a better result.
He pressed a feather light kiss to little Charcuterie's soft forehead. They twitched ever so slightly, tiny mouth curling into the briefest smile before they sunk back into sleep. Carefully Black Pudding set them to bed in their crib, pulling the soft blanket half way up their tiny body. He made sure they were safely tucked in bed, before he turned his attention to the man behind him.
Alright, time for the hard part. Black Pudding quietly crept forward, wrapping his arms around Camembert's hips. He hauled the other up to his feet. He was lighter then before. Not alarmingly so, but he could tell Camembert's firm muscle was turning not so firm, softening from his new domestic life. This night could not get any better. Camembert was limp for a moment before the movement woke him up. He tiredly stumbled on his feet, hands shooting out to clutch onto Pudding's shoulders so he could stabilize himself. In the process he bumped his chest into Black Pudding's face, his soft pectorals pillowing his head. OK, now this night couldn't get any better.
Camembert pushed on Black Pudding's shoulders, shoving himself back. He grimaced, eyes squinty from sleep. He looked down at Pudding, then groaned tiredly from the bottom of his chest. "You-" Pudding quickly shushed him, pressing a finger to his lips and nodding to the side. Where Charcuterie Cookie was sound asleep. Camembert quickly shut up.
Black Pudding hooked Camembert's arm around his shoulders, guiding him out of the nursery and back to their bedroom next door. Pudding shut the door with his foot, fumbling around in the dark before he knocked into a lamp. When he made sure he didn't knock it over, he pulled on the chain, warm light flooding the room. In front of them the bed became visible, neatly made. Camembert had even arranged the pillows and everything.
Black Pudding guided him over to the side, Camembert less then gracefully pulling off Pudding's shoulders and face planting into the mattress. Black Pudding snorted above him. "Glasses." He said, shoving his broad shoulder. With a heavy sigh Camembert picked himself half off the sheets, pulling off his glasses and handing them to Pudding. The shorter set them down on the nearby nightstand.
Camembert then dropped back into bed, shoving his face in a pillow. Black Pudding chuckled, rounding the other side to join him in bed. He laid down next to Camembert, enjoying the sight before him. He then shoved his shoulder again. "Camembert."
Camembert groaned into the pillow, before begrudgingly turning his head to look at the other. Ah, there was that face. His brown eyes were narrowed onto Black Pudding, face scrunched in a squinty frown. Pudding smirked. "What? No welcome home?"
He snorted. "You're late."
"I know."
"Of course you do." Camambert sighed. He laid back down, though he was facing Pudding now. "What's your excuse now?" He grumbled.
Pudding snorted, his smirk widening. He didn't bother hiding how much he loved seeing Camembert frustrated. "There was a local gang causing trouble. Had to take care of them."
"Its a miracle they haven't replaced you with someone more competent." Camembert grumbled. "Do you only get anything done when im there to do it for you?"
"If you were there, I'd still be out of the house." Black Pudding sat up, starting to pull off his hat and coat.
"Dont flatter yourself." Camembert snorted. "You think because I stay home all day, I cant fight?"
Black Pudding chuckled. He threw his hat to the side, along with his coat, before sinking back into bed. "No, i think that because you're terrible at fighting. You'd rush in head first, and get yourself knocked out immediately."
Camembert snorted in amusement. He reached out, a rough hand ruffling Black Pudding's hair to bring it back to life. Pudding cracked a grin as he batted his hand away. "Its better then sulking in the background until your enemies forget you're there. You're only useful long after the point your needed, if you even are."
"Mm. Let's not forget who's won our little rivalry." Pudding chided.
"Mhm. I did." Camembert shot back. He looked over Pudding again, sighing. He reached out, his hand grabbing at Pudding's eye patch. "Take that thing off. I dont want it on the clean sheets."
Pudding jerked his head back. "Its fine."
"Its not, its covered in your sweat and alley filth."
"Like you wont wash the sheets again tomorrow."
"You think i dont have anything better to do then laundry?" Camembert's hand darted out, snagging onto the elastic of his eyepatch and pulling it off. He tossed it onto the nearby nightstand. Laid naked before him, not for the first time, was the jagged scar that took up where Pudding's right eye once was. The assassin frowned.
"Happy?"
"Over the moon." Camambert's hand trailed down, calloused fingers grazing down scarred dough to settle on Pudding's cheek, thumbing over the flesh. His cheeks were getting bigger, now that Camembert had him eating properly. The taller cracked a self satisfied smirk at that. He then pinched the small bit of fat. "Now you don't look ridiculous."
Black Pudding shoved his hand away, laughing. "Have you seen yourself?"
"More then you do."
The shorter frowned. "Ok, ok. Im sorry im home late. Won't happen again. Happy?"
Camembert snorted. "I'll be happy when you actually do it." He then turned onto his stomach, settling back into his pillow.
Black Pudding raised an eyebrow. "You're not going to scold me?"
"I will in the morning. Im too tired now." Camembert yawned, his voice muffled by his pillow.
Black Pudding chuckled, scooting closer. "What, no goodnight kiss?"
Camembert groaned dramatically, lifting his head up to glare at the other. "Will you ever stop annoying me?"
Black Pudding grinned. "Never."
With that Camembert leaned forward, Black Pudding meeting him in a kiss. It was light, quick, just a peck on the lips that warmed Black Pudding to his bones. Based on the soft hum that escaped Camembert's lips, he'd say he enjoyed it similarly.
He laid his head back down, eyes slipping shut. "Now sleep. Unlike you, I have a schedule to follow."
Black Pudding snickered, slipping under the covers. "Oh yes, because fingerpainting is so exhausting."
"Shh." Camembert reached out, batting at Pudding's shoulder. "They inherited your messiness. Try cleaning red off a white wall. Now shut up. If you wake Charcuterie up, you're sleeping on the couch."
Pudding shook his head, rolling over so his back faced Camembert. "Mhm, fine, fine. I'm sleeping." Black Pudding felt as Camembert slid over, wrapping his arms around the shorter's waste and spooning his back. The taller rested his chin on Black Pudding's shoulder, nosing into his neck. He inhaled deeply, momentarily squeezing the other tight, before drifting back to sleep. Black Pudding pressed back against the other, soaking up the warmth blanketing his back. It worked miracles on his tired muscles. He sighed softly, content. Yeah, couldn't get any better then this. He let his eye slip shut, drifting off to sleep.