#On the other side. Nightmare is so much more relaxed in bathtime than he used to be!

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Bath

Hello!

Direct continuation from the prev Drabble 'Mud'! Taking place almost directly after.

First Drabble (original prompt by @spotaus ) Prev drabble Next Drabble

So we take off almost right were we left off, only like a small hour later.

*---------------------*

Nighmtare can't stop the purr as warm water goes over his shoulders to clean some of the worst mud away from the cravices.

Dust hums "Yeah I figured it would feel nice. feeling warmer?"

Nightmare nods and leans back against the hand on his spine. Dust had been supporting his spine ever since they got back and told him what happened. They went straight to the bathroom.

"Hah! Dusty using his magic hands?"

Dust shoots Killer and annoyed look from where Killer is sitting with his boxers on in the bathtub with Ngihtmare. Grinning widely.

"What? I also needed to get cleaned up!" Killer looks very smug.

Dust shoots Nightmare a look "How is it that you are 6 yet he is more childish?"

Ngihtamre grins and just leans more into the hold. The touch is gentle as Dust removes mud from the sensitive and painful spots. It hurts a little but not nearly as much as it used to hurt when getting cleaned, and no were near as much hurt as with the mud in it.

Dust continues cleanign his spine and ribcage slowly "It didn't get too far in. Seems like your sweater protected you from that."

Ngihtmare pushes closer to Dust's touch "Sorry for getting it dirty..."

Dust hums "No need. You didn't mean to get it dirty and even fi you meant to. It is just a sweater. Even so Cross is already working on cleaning it. It will be fine." He uses a small bucket to let some water wash away the soap.

Killer grins as he leans agianst the tub edge "Me next dusty?"

Dust doesn't even look up as he keeps washing Nihgtmare's shoulders "You can wash yourself."

Killer whines "But dusty~ Stuff may have gotten between my joints! Same like nighty!"

Nightmare rolls his eye lights but purrs when Dust starts washing his skull and neck. It is so nice and familiar by now. They always do this even if Nightmare knows that Dust knows Nightmare can wash that himself. Dust always takes time to carefully wash his skull and neck for him.

Dust hums "And Nightmare is six. which you are not." Dust taps his shoulder carefully "close your sockets nightmare. I am going to wash off the soap."

Nightmare nods and closes his sockets before feeling the warm water wash over his skull and shoulders. It feels amazing!

Dust smiles "there is the happy purring. much better." then softer "Can I wash your sockets?"

Nightmare considers it for a moment. He never likes seeing the others when he baths, he should be able to wash himself and it make sit easier to accept their help when he can't see them... But Killer is also in the bath and that is fine... Maybe he will be fine with it?

Dust is silent and waits patiently as Nightmare thinks it over. Ngihtmare ends up nodding and turning around in the tub to be facing Dust instead.

Dust gives a small smile before focussing on his face as he looks at his sockets from different angles. as Dust stares at him Nightmare just looks back at Dust. Unlike Killer, who is mostly naked and with just his boxers on, Dust is still mostly dressed. Dust had only taken off his hoody, scarf and gloves. So Dust just sits by them in loose sweats and a shirt. Dust gives a quiet hum "Yeah I can see some mud in there. I am going to try and get it out okay?" he looks at their basket of bathstuff and takes out some soft cotton swabs. Dust soaps them up before holdign hsi skull steady with a gentle hand by his skull.

Dust looks at him "Still okay?"

Nightmare frowns as he thinks it over. This should feel bad or dangerous. people near his sockets or skull is very bad news. But no panic or fear. He hums and mutters "it is fine."

Dust looks a bit surprised before grinning "Brave babybones." ngihtamre knows he is glaring at Dust but Dust just chuckles "okay. No eye lights."

Nightmare huffs but does as told. he turns his eye lights off and with them goes his side.

The darkness does make him nervous but he still feels the steadying hand of Dust on his skull. He hears Killer whine and mumble about unfairness and that he wants the spa treatment as well. And that Dust is so unfair to not give him one as well!

the cotton swab touching the inside of his skull and near his sockets is weird. It doesn't hurt but it is still weird. His hands shoot up and he grabs Dust's arms.

Dust freezes "too much?"

Nightmare shallows and forces the words out "It is okay..." he just.. needs this... just a reminder. it is okay.

Dust mutters softly "I will be careful."

And as he said he would. He is. careful and slow movements. with purpose. And It does feel better! discomfort and itchiness he hadn't been fully aware of just disappears with each gentle movement.

"That was it. You can turn on your eye lights again."

NIghtmare needs a moment to get his magic to respond and get his eye lights to return. It is brihgt for a moment but even his sight seems better than before!

Dust grins "There. Almost all clean."

Killer grins and leans over the side of the tub "Which means it is mine turn!" causing a big wave to splash over and for Dust to now have wet pants.

Dust looks down before shooting him a glare "You did that on purpose."

Killer gasps and puts a hand above his soul "me?! I would never! I am sooooo sorry for your pants!" he grins and winks "You could just lose them." and he wiggles his eye brows.

Dust looks very unimpressed and Ngihtmare agrees. Not one of Killer's best tries at flirting.

Dust just looks at Nightmare again "do you want me to clean your arms or do you want to do it yourself today?"

Nightmare frowns and thinks it over. He did his own pelvis and legs as always but it was harder than he remembers to get dirt and mud out of those spots. He just looks at Dust "Can you do it?"

Dust nods and starts getting the shower floof ready again. Nightmare holds out his arms and lets Dust do his magic to get the stubborn dirt out off his joints. Dust just seems to know how to do it as the dirt and mud easily disappears.

Dust nods and looks very happy with himself "There he is. All clean." he puts the bathstuff to the side and goes to grab the towel.

Killer whines again "come on dusty~ Please?" Killer grins as he turns around until his spine is against the tub and he looks over backwards over the edge with his skull upsidedown to look at Dust. It can't be comfortable. Killer grins "Please~ What if some of the stuff stays behind? What if I can't clean myself right?"

Dust rolls hsi sockets as he gets the towel and with an easy motions nightmare is out of the bathtub and wrapped in the towel. Dust pats him down carefully as he ignroes the whining of the adult behind him. Killer bemoans about this unfair fate and how he needs help from his friend and teammate yet Dust is cruel to not help him.

Nightmare is dry and Dust dresses him in his PJs. Dust lifts him up and shoots Killer a look "Don't destroy our bathroom whiel I am gone." and Dust leaves the bathroom.

They exit into their downstairs bedroom and Dust goes straight to their pillow and blanket nest.

Dust sits down and grabs a blanket and wraps it around him "comfy?"

Nightmar enods "yeah." Dust hands over his plushy and NIghtmare is quick to put her right by his side. Batsie is her name... Like the cow name Bessie because they are on a farm but with bat because... bat.

Not that it matters because Nightmare isn't going to admit he named his plushy.

Dust smiles at him "I need to go clean the bathroom and make sure Killer doens't drown and kill himself with his stupidity. Horror is-"

"right here." and Horror joins him. Horror smiles at Dust "Good luck with Killer. I got this."

Dust nods and leaves to return to the bathroom.

Nightmare moves his plushy around until he can use the wings to blanket him as well. trying to keep his hands free. horror hands him a plate and fork as he sits with him. Asking him how his day had been at his appointment.

nightmare eats and calmly talks about his day and all that happened. his soul calm and content after his bath.

--

Killer chuckles as Dust leaves wiht Nightmare. He should have actually cleaned up but come on! It was too much fun to hoke around with Dusty! Especially the tiny blush he had managed to cause!

Killer chuckles as he kicks the water up before leaning back to lay in the tub. Ah, baths are very nice. Maybe he should take more of them.

He just lays there to enjoy the water.

"Dont'drown yourself. Water and dust together make a mess."

Killer opens his sockets and grins at Dust who looks very unimpressed "I don't know. YOu seem fine with bathtime."

Dust rolls his eye lights "You know what i mean. Also get dressed weirdo. Have some modesty."

Killer grins and winks "oh? Is the most powerful monster shy about bare bones?"

Dust shoots him a look "Just clean yourself."

Killer leans dramatically over the edge of the tub "I can't~ What if i miss a spot? And how am I suposed to wash myself if i have to fully dress myself? I can't do both at the same time dusty~"

Dust crosses his arms as he glares at him. "YOu seriously still on about this?"

Killer grins "Sorry. can't." he leans forwards and shrugs his shoulders.

Dust lets out a long annoyed sigh "fine."

Killer blinks and looks abck at Dust as Dust calmly cleans the shower fluff of dirty water and puts new soap on it. "euh?"

Dust moves in his blind spot and a hand touches his shoulders and Killer just freezes.

He hand pushes him a bit forover and oh fuck. fuck... that.. that is that seem shower fluff on his spine and it feels so good and how are dust's hand so secure?!

He doens't know what to think. What does he do?! Why?! Why is dust washing him? Oh fuck it feels so nice? No wonder Nightmare always purrs up a storm after bathtime. Fuck keep in the purring. You are making this weird. it is just your homie giving you a bath that you have been asking him for! Don't make it weird!

He... hadn't realised how nice this was. this touch. Normally Killer is the one that hangs all over the others and starts contact. This is technically stuff that Dust started and it feels so nice is this what it is suposed to feel like?! Is it normal that Killer just wants to melt into the touch and wnats it to never stop?!

how is this so nice?!

Killer straight up had one night stands with others across the multiverse and that is NOTHING compared to how nice this is.

The fluff disappears and some warm, almost scolding hot how does Nightmare deal with this heat every bath and whyt does he like it so much? Goes over his back and spine.

Dust snorts and speaks "There. your spine and ribcage are clean now."

Killer glances back and Dust looks highly amused and smug as he collects the shower stuff. He puts it on the side of the bath before he gets up. He shoots him a look "The rest you should be able to manage yourself." and he leaves the bathroom.

okay while Killer is sad the contact ended he is also thankful that Dust left because there is a very very very obvious reaction to the touch and his boxers are not doing a great job hiding it.

What the fuck is wrong with him!?

*---------------------*

Killer having a bit of a gay panic. It was his turn. Also I have so little drabbles from his POV?! It is criminal

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[wishaponafullmoon]

Bathtime!! (John Price)

Summary: John helps you out in the bath after a long week.

Content Warnings: Making out, Clittie rubbing, Fingering, Praise, (Overstim if you squint really hard)

A/N: I wrote this stoned ash so 👍 (pls give me feedback I'll give you a kiss)

A long sigh left your lips as you sank into the hot bathwater. Your muscles were tense with the weight of the workweek. It had been utterly exhausting; endless meetings, mountains of paperwork, and utterly rude clients. Not to mention your nightmare of a boss. You tried to relax your shoulders manually, taking a deep breath, willing your muscles to melt into the lavender-scented brew. But…your eyebrows were still drawn, and your jaw was still taught. Your mind couldn’t stray from work, and you were utterly frustrated. 

Huffing an irritated sigh, you attempted to think of anything other than work. A sunny beach, clear skies, shirtless John… It's okay you're doing self-care. And- you could be doing that report due Monday. All of the sudden, you were right back at square one. A loud groan of exasperation bounced around the shiny tiles covering the floor, and partial walls.

“What’s the matter, dear?” You jumped at the deep, rumbling voice coming from the doorway. You looked over and there he was, standing in all his glory. You always left the door ajar for John, but it was now fully opened so he could lean against it, arms folded. Despite being together for so long, you still felt shy being naked in front of him, you were grateful for the bubbles covering your body, John not so much.

“Just can’t seem to get my mind off work,” you said softly, not wanting to break the quiet atmosphere. He hummed, pushing himself from the doorframe, and sauntered over to you. He grabbed the small stool you use to reach things and paint your toenails and sat at the side of the tub. He stared down at you, admiring how soft and supple your skin looked in nothing but candlelight. The bubbles sparkled, covering the water's surface, leaving John to imagine, or rather recall, what was underneath.

He leaned down, one hand cradling the side of your face, drawing your lips to his; the other was placed on your knee poking out of the water. His lips connected with yours sweetly and softly. You sighed in contentment as he deepened the kiss. You met his eagerness in full, pressing up into him. He groaned, “Fancy some help?” he rumbled in your ear. 

His hand slipped from youre knee and below the blanket of sweet smelling bubbles, trailing along the interior of your thigh. You whined as you felt his hand stop just before your aching cunt. “Please,” you whined, hands resting on the cold ceramic edge of the tub. He smiled at your saccharine plea and his lips descended upon yours once again. He groaned as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, his thumb rubbed little circles on the soft skin of your thigh. He pulled away from the kiss to watch your face as he played with your pussy.

His middle finger pressed against your puffy little clit finally, and you let out a gasp. He studied your face intently as his calloused finger began moving in small circles. “John,” you whined out. He moved his other hand from your face to your chest, massaging and rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. “There you go, pretty girl,” he cooed. Little gasps and whines fell from your lips, hips jutting up into his hand, longing for more.

He kissed you with fervour and moved his thick middle finger down to your leaking slit. 

He rubbed it up and down before gently pressing into you. The two of you  moaned in sync as his finger slid fully into you. Felling your hot cunt around his finger sent pleasure running down his spine, and leaking from his cock. He always mentioned how your pleasure is his pleasure, but he doesn’t really think you get it. His finger pumped languidly in and out of you, the water sloshing against his arm. He was sure if you weren’t in the bath, he would be able to hear the wetness of your cunt. “Fuuuck thats it princess, just relax,” he said, his fingers curved perfectly into your g-spot.

He slipped a second, girthy finger into your tight hole. A moan fell from your lips at the pleasent stretch. “Good girl, takin’ me so well,” he moaned as he felt you clench around him. “Fuck—i’m so close,” you moaned, gripping his arm; water droplets cascaded down the length of it and onto his hand. He felt you spasm, and he knew you were right there. He leaned down and captured your lips in a sensual kiss, you could feel every ounce of his love for you. “Come on, cum on my fingers, little one,” he all but moaned. His hips were jutting forward on their own, his cock meeting the cold tub through his pants.

You let out a loud moan as you came, legs closing around his arm, cunt convulsing. “Fuck,” he growled. “There we go, baby girl,” he said, softly fucking you through your orgasm. “There we go.” His fingers slowed to a stop, and he let himself stay there for a second, feeling your pussy clench through the aftershocks. He slipped his fingers from you, lovingly tapping your clit goodbye just to watch your legs jerk. His clean hand came up to hold you by the chin, guiding you into a sweet kiss. “Feeling better, Love?” he murmured against your lips. “Definitely,” you said sleepily. “Glad to help, now let's get you dried up; I’ve got dinner in the oven.”

[babysizedfics]

Hey uhh not to be a bother or anything but I’ve been having a tough time recently and your writing makes me smile so I wanna say thank you. And if you wouldn’t mind, do you think you could do a HC or those little mini stories you do with Patton and Virgil being cuddly together after Virgil being awake half the night? Maybe he has a routine he does with Virgil whenever he can’t sleep? If you can’t it’s okay. ❤️❤️

It's not a bother at all, I'm sorry you've had a rough time :( I hope this can bring some comfort!

EDIT: I didn't expect this to be a ficlet at all but it happened anyway! This was really sweet and fun to write, thank you for suggesting it <3

oOo

Title: Pillow

Summary: Virgil can't sleep. Papa Patton knows exactly how to get him to relax.

Word count: 2,000

Also on AO3!

oOo

When Virgil and Roman are both awake late at night, they have sleepovers... but on this particular night, when Virgil texts his brother "Hey you awake?" there is no reply. He waits a good hour, just in case Roman was just busy with something. But he soon realises Roman must be asleep for once.

It's not that Virgil isn't tired - he's exhausted - but his anxiety has been high for a couple of days. There is no obvious reason, sometimes it just acts up like that and it's incredibly annoying. He can't get to sleep because his mind is positively racing with worries and disastrous scenarios and insecurities. They're loud.

He tries to get through it alone. He went on Tumblr for a bit but most bloggers were asleep. He listened to some upbeat music to try to lift his mood but it just hurt his ears. He actually tried to be little on his own for the first time in months, but all it did was make him upset and remember all the times he was lonely and regressed and scared and suddenly he just can't be alone anymore.

He tiptoes to Patton's room, all the while internally berating himself. He's been busy this week, he needs time to rest. And you already cause him so much trouble being little all the time. You shouldn't wake him, it's not fair on him.

But by the time he has reached the door, and before he turns back having second thoughts, the door swings open. It always surprised Virgil just how light a sleeper Patton was.

'Vee? Are you okay, sweetheart?' Patton asks, immediately holding his arms out for Virgil.

He hurries into Patton's embrace and grips onto his pyjama shirt tightly, not daring to look up from the ground. Because Patton thinks he's little, doesn't he? Baby Vee is always allowed to wake up his Papa and Mama if he has a nightmare or an accident, but is adult Virgil allowed to?

But it's impossible to pretend he's regressed. Virgil hardly knows what he actually behaves like when he's little, and he can't bring himself to pretend. 'I'm... I dunno, I just can't sleep.'

A soft, warm thing presses to his forehead - a fingertip. 'Yucky thoughts?' Patton whispers, gently stroking over Virgil's brow.

With a small sigh, Virgil simply nods. His eyes are heavy and fall shut, letting the soothing touch calm him instantly.

'Let's get you a bottle, baby.'

Virgil's eyes snap open and he meets Patton's gaze at last. There is only compassion and fondness in the deep brown irises.

'But I'm not little,' Virgil says, frowning slightly. The only times Patton gave him a bottle was when he was either regressed or Patton needed him to be regressed. And even then it was only after Virgil had a panic attack or a nightmare, neither of which was true tonight.

Patton smiles and tucks Virgil's curtain of bangs behind his ear with thick fingertips. 'That doesn't mean we can't relax together. I'm not planning to sleep soon anyway.' He pulls Virgil into his arms again and the anxious side goes willingly, resting his cheek against the barrel chest and breathing deeply with each thumping beat of his Papa's heart. 'Doesn't warm milk and In The Night Garden sound relaxing, honey?'

Virgil merely nods. He's not little, but that does sound calming.

oOo

Within minutes - and after a quick detour to Virgil's room where they acquired Minty - they're in the kitchen. Usually, Virgil would not like to be in the room when the stove is on since it is an open flame. Watching the bright blue flames dance precariously around the saucepan of oat milk makes Virgil's heart leap with every flicker. But he couldn't bear the idea of being away from Patton's side at that moment.

'See, nothing happened,' Patton says, extinguishing the flame and stirring the milk. 'We're all safe, stormcloud.'

Virgil swallows around a lump of nerves and starts picking at his lower lip with his fingernails. He grips Minty tighter to his chest with his other hand. 'All safe,' he repeats under his breath.

There is a metallic clatter and Virgil lifts his gaze from his feet which swing back and forth as he sits on a tall barstool. Papa is smiling at him, the wooden mixing spoon abandoned in the saucepan. 'You're such a brave boy.'

Warmth blooms on Virgil's cheeks. He shakes his head and pulls Minty up to his chin. 'No 'm not.'

'Yes you are,' Patton insists. He makes quick work of transferring the milk into one of Virgil's baby bottles. The sight of it - with a vintage-style image of Eeyore and some butterflies printed onto the side of it - puts a warm, swirly feeling in Virgil's chest. Papa walks over to him and strokes his cheek. It's kind of cold. 'You're my brave little baby.'

All of a sudden tears are burning Virgil's eyes. He takes the tip of his thumb out from between his lips. (When did that get there?) Talking is harder than he remembers it being a few minutes ago. 'No brave... th-scared.'

'Y'know you're allowed to be brave and scared,' Papa says and makes a surprised face. He puts his hands on Virgil's sides and then there's a whoosh of air and the seat is gone under him but now Papa's arm is under him. Virgil is being carried on Papa's hip.

He holds Papa's shoulder tight with one hand, Minty balanced in the crook of his arm. His thumb is back in his mouth. 'Bof?' he whispers.

'Mhm, both. Brave means you do things even when they're scary. Because you know it's important.' Papa kisses Virgil's forehead and it makes him smile. 'Were you scared to come get Papa?'

Virgil looks up at his papa and doesn't know what Papa feels. Does he look sad? Angry? He's not smiling. He doesn't look very happy. Tears start falling down Virgil's cheeks and he whimpers.

'Shh, baby, it's okay if you were scared. Papa's not angry or upset with you.' Then the world is a bit bouncy and Virgil doesn't know why but it makes him stop crying.

He sniffles and it's wet and kind of yucky. He wriggles and tries to hug Papa tighter but it's hard 'cause he's cuddling Minty too. Papa's arm under him is going up and down but then it stops and pulls him closer, tighter, stronger. The world isn't bouncy anymore but it's warm because Papa is warm. And it's nice.

'It was a bit scary to come and get Papa, wasn't it, sweetie?'

Virgil sucks his thumb more. He nods then a little sound comes out from his throat. Another tear trickles down his cheek.

Papa kisses it away. 'And even though it was scary, my clever little stormcloud came to get me anyway because he knew it was the right thing to do.' Another kiss on his other cheek made Virgil hum. 'I think that's very brave.'

For a bit, Virgil tries to remember why he thought he wasn't brave. But it's really tricky. Memories are fuzzy. Plus Papa always knew way more than he did. So Virgil must have been brave.

That makes another smile stretch his lips, bigger this time. His thumb slips out of his mouth.

'There's my happy little baby!' Papa says and smiles big and squiggles a finger on Virgil's side.

It tickles and Virgil giggles. 'Papa, tibble!' Then his head feels foggy and heavy. Then he yawns and the feeling goes away.

'Aww, precious boy. Let's go get you a diaper, then we're gonna have milk and watch Iggle Piggle!'

That's one of Virgil's favorite things to do in the whole world! He nods and kicks his feet a little bit, trying to show that he wants to get moving.

'All right, all right, I get it,' Papa laughs. Then they start moving. 'Giddyup Papa, huh?'

More giggles come from Virgil's lips and he rests his head on Papa's shoulder as they go back upstairs.

Getting changed into a diaper used to be really scary, but now it's okay. Papa smiles at him and sings a pretty song really quiet and Virgil is allowed to hug Minty really tight when he doesn't like a feeling. Then he is changed and it's soft and comfy and it makes him feel really safe and happy. It makes funny crinkly noises and they make tingles go all over his head and he thinks he is floating.

Virgil doesn't remember how, but then there is a paci in his mouth. Pacis are smooth on his tongue! And then they are on the couch in the living room and there is the In The Night Garden music coming from the TV.

He looks around, confused. Where did his room go? He wriggles in Papa's lap and whines, 'Baba.'

'What's wrong, baby?' Papa asks.

Virgil pouts. He wants to know where his room went and where Minty went, but he can't move his mouth. He squeezes the soft stuff in his hands tighter. Then he gasps and looks down. Minty! He cuddles the dino to his chest and smiles.

'You love Minty, don't you, Vee?'

Virgil nods his head. 'Wub.'

There are fingers in his hair, stroking. It makes more of those tingles go over him, like when it's bathtime and Papa pours warm water on his back. It's really nice. 'Can Papa give you your bottle now?'

That question is kind of hard. Papa wants to give Virgil something. But now. Does Papa want to know when Vee wants something? Virgil is confused and it's not a nice feeling. He looks at Papa and tries to tell him that with his eyes.

'Oh, you're super tiny tonight. That was a bit advanced for you then,' Papa says really quiet. Virgil definitely doesn't know what that means. 'Do you want your milky?'

That question was a bit louder and it makes lots more sense. Virgil whines and scrunches his toes in the couch cushion. It means yes and Papa usually knows that.

'Come here, angel,' Papa whispers. He wraps his arms around Virgil and turns him. Virgil isn't facing Papa and sitting up anymore, now he's sideways in Papa's lap. He's kind of lying down, but instead of a pillow under his head, it's Papa's arm. It's warmer and stronger and safer than a pillow.

Then Virgil's mouth is empty. He doesn't like it. There's no more smooth on his tongue, the pretty paci is gone. He whines and feels tears building in his eyes again. He wants his paci back.

Iggle Piggle is jingling and squeaking on the TV.

There's a different smooth on his tongue now. It's warm and it tastes different, but it's still smooth. Virgil sighs and sucks on it like a paci, then there's sweet, creamy, warm stuff on the back of his tongue and he swallows it. It makes his tummy happy. Milk!

A quiet, happy sound comes from him and he keeps drinking the milk. The strong, warm pillow lifts his head up a little bit more then puts his head on something else. It's a bigger, warmer, softer, stronger pillow. It goes Boom boom, Boom boom, Boom boom. Virgil likes this one the best.

Things are different then. The room is a little bit darker and it makes Virgil's eyes happy. Virgil isn't drinking milk anymore and that makes him a bit sad, but his tummy feels full and warm and he doesn't want more milk anyway.

He isn't sideways on Papa's lap anymore, he's sitting backwards in it. He can't see Papa but there's still the Boom boom pillow under his head and that feels just as nice as seeing Papa. Virgil can see the TV. There are trees and grass and Upsy Daisy in a pretty dress. The sound is different - Iggle Piggle isn't jingling and squeaking anymore. Instead, there's plinky-plonky music and a man is speaking with a voice that's kind of like Mama's. It's deep and strong and it makes Virgil's heart feel like a balloon.

His eyes are falling shut. It feels safe.

'Night night, my sweet little one,' Papa's voice says. The pillow rumbles at the same time.

Virgil squeaks and turns his head and smushes his cheek on it. Boom boom. Boom boom.

'Wuboo.'

His eyes are really heavy. Everything goes black.

Boom boom.

oOo

Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated!

[thanksfornothinguselessreptile]

Hiccup Haddock vs. Toothless Night Fury

Me: Has two other fanfictions I really want to write and share with you all

Also Me: Does this instead.

To be fair, I had a lot of this written in another one of my fanfictions that will never see the light of day, but I took a scene from it, wrote it to stand alone, polished it up, and posted it. It might not be the most in-character thing out there, but I had fun writing this, and I hope you have as much fun reading it.

Summary: After a run-in with some stink dragons, Toothless really needs a bath. However, said Night Fury disagrees with bathtime, which everyone else on Berk finds rather disagreeable. Hiccup is faced with the ultimate question: who will win, him or a Strike Class dragon?

Rating: G or T, probably

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless

Warnings: Mentions of animal droppings

Disclaimer: I am neither Dreamworks nor Cressida Cowell. I do not own the book or movie franchises. I do own some HTTYD merchandise, though.

 “Stink dragons? Really?” Snotlout grumbled as Berk came back into view. “Of all the dragons the gods made, they absolutely had to make stink dragons?”

“You do have to admit, their primary method of defense is effective,” Fishlegs said, voice strained from the fact that he was pinching his nose.

“What I want to know is why they had to be so effective!” He scowled down at Hookfang. “At least you have the smaller dragon. It’ll take me hours to scour the stink from his grubby hide.”

The Monstrous Nightmare grumbled, and a second later Snotlout was yelping from a seat that was suddenly just a tad too toasty.

“At least we’re almost there,” Astrid said. Hiccup wasn’t sure that Stormfly sped up from her rider’s urging or because she, too, wanted the stench off of her.

“Finally!” Ruffnut said, leaning forward in her saddle. “I’m sick of flying with Belch’s stench up my nose!”

Tuffnut whipped his head around to glare at her. “Excuse me,” he said, a hand to his chest, “That smell is clearly coming from Barf!”

“No, Belch just takes after his stinky rider!” With that, Ruffnut tried to kick Tuffnut in the shins. Tuffnut moved his leg just in time, and threw a punch of his own that missed by a mile.

As usual, Hiccup ignored this sibling squabble. Everyone else seemed similarly inclined. The twins rarely fell off their dragon during these brawls, so there was rarely a need to get involved.

“First thing I’m doing is giving Meatlug here a bath,” Fishlegs said as their dragons descended toward Berk’s docks. “How’s that, girl?” He patted Meatlug on her head.

Meatlug clearly liked the idea, as she wagged her tail and gave a great, big, toothy grin as the group landed on the docks with a series of thuds. The nearest Vikings glanced at them and then proceeded to wrinkle their noses and retreat as one.

Snotlout scoffed as he swung himself off of Hookfang’s saddle. “Well, I don’t think I am,” he announced, wiping his hands on his pants. “I’m leaving him outside until the next rainstorm.”

Hookfang glared at Snotlout and gave him a low snarl.

“Don’t you use that tone with me, mister.” Snotlout jabbed a finger at him. “If you weren’t so slow and gotten us hit by that stink stuff, you wouldn’t be staying outside, now would you?”

Hookfang reared back his head. Before Snotlout could react, Hookfang had snatched the boy up in his jaws. And there Snotlout stayed, probably not enjoying the smell of dragon breath. Hiccup had smelled enough in his experiences helping Gobber work on dragon teeth to know exactly what it smelled like. Stink dragon scent was like a fresh yak manure pile, but dragon breath smelled like that combined with sulfur and decaying fish.

Hiccup climbed off of Toothless’s back. Toothless crooned and sniffed at Hiccup’s leg. It had been a long, rough flight, and sometimes it hurt after them.

“It’s not that bad, bud,” he said, scratching his dragon behind his ear flaps. It really didn’t hurt that badly; he was suffering more from saddle sore than phantom limb aches.

“I know an island,” Fishlegs began, stretching his legs, “that has some really nice hot springs. Dragons love hot water. Relaxes their muscles, though these ones are much too hot for us Vikings.”

“Have you tried?” Ruffnut asked.

Fishlegs laughed somewhat incredulously. “Vikings who go into those hot springs have their flesh melted off.”

“Sounds relaxing to me,” Tuffnut replied, raising a hand lazily from where he’d sprawled across Belch’s neck.

“Good idea, Fishlegs,” Astrid said. “I was going to take Stormfly to this mountain stream, but I’m sure she’d like that much better.”

A squawk from said Deadly Nadder confirmed that she liked the idea of having the stink boiled away.

“Hookfang doesn’t deserve hot springs.” Snotlout’s voice was muffled, him still hanging in his dragon’s mouth with new trails of drool running down his clothes. He’d somehow managed to cross his arms regardless.

Hookfang retaliated by giving him a gentle shake.

Astrid turned to Hiccup. “Hiccup, are you going too? It’d be a good place to bathe Toothless.”

“Don’t say it!” Hiccup said, but it was too late.

Toothless’s head rocketed up, ears pricked and eyes wide as he seemed to process what he’d just heard. Seconds later, there were no Night Furies on the docks, just a black dot scrambling up the cliffs, wings beating frantically as he tried to climb away from his problems. The only evidence he’d ever been by Hiccup’s side was a foul stench in the air that seemed to turn the breeze green.

“What’s his problem?” Ruffnut asked, raising an eyebrow at the retreating figure.

Hiccup sighed. “Toothless hates baths.” He was generally lucky in the fact that dirt was hard to see on a black-scaled dragon and that Toothless generally avoided getting too smelly. Covered in the secretions of a stink dragon, however, Stoick would definitely notice Toothless hadn’t been bathed.

“I’ve never seen any dragon run that fast,” Tuffnut said. He gave a soft whistle of amazement.

“Proof that I’m a better dragon trainer than Hiccup.” Snotlout gave a triumphant laugh. “At least my dragon’s still here.”

Hookfang slowly but deliberately turned around, raised his wings, and flew off.

“Hey, get back there!” Snotlout’s voice was hard to hear from his rapidly vanishing body.

“Should we do something about that?” Ruffnut asked, pointing at the red dot slowly approaching the horizon.

“If he’s not back here within the hour, we’ll send a search party after him.” Astrid shook her head and turned to Hiccup. “Do you want help with him?” She glanced in the direction that Toothless had retreated.

Hiccup shrugged. “Nah, I’ll be fine.” I hope. He really didn’t want to drag her into his mess. She’d have enough on her hands with Stormfly. “I just have to outsmart him.”

“Hiccup, he’s a Night Fury.” Fishlegs spoke like Hiccup had forgotten the basics of smithing. “They’re, like, the epitome of a Strike Class dragon. You know, the smartest?”

Hiccup gave him a smile that he hoped oozed confidence. Judging by everyone’s expressions, he’d failed. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll find a way somehow.”

The first thing Hiccup had to deal with was finding a way to get Stoick to let him into the house.

“By Odin’s beard,” Stoick said, scowling at his son. He was holding Hiccup at arm’s length, clasping the back of his tunic with his thumb and forefinger. “What in Midgard did you roll in? The manure pile?”

“I didn’t roll in anything,” Hiccup said, trying not to shrug in case his tunic ripped. “A stink dragon spewed its, well, stink, at me.” He’d been rather lucky, too; Toothless had taken the brunt of the stink. Not all the other riders had been so lucky. Snotlout had even gotten some up his nose. 

Stoick scowled. “Hiccup, there are some dragons that you should ask yourself if you should train them rather than if you can.” He set Hiccup back on his feet. While he wasn’t rough about it, he wasn’t treating Hiccup as fractured glass either.

Hiccup guessed that he shouldn’t admit he’d mostly wanted to observe stink dragons because he was curious about them.

“But, Dad,” he said instead. “Imagine if we had some. Do you think Alvin would be so willing to invade Berk if he had to deal with this?” He pulled at a corner of his clothes as proof.

Stoick wrinkled his nose and took a giant step back. “No,” he admitted, “but would the Hooligans?” He sighed and pinched his nose. “We can discuss this after you’ve washed that stink out, and burned your clothes.”

“It’s not that bad,” Hiccup said. “A couple washes and a night hanging out to dry and I think I’ll get most of it out.”

The look on Stoick’s face seemed to state that he didn’t believe this would be true.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go make plans on how to bathe Toothless.”

Stoick groaned. “Don’t tell me they got him too.”

“Yup,” Hiccup said, stressing the p.

Stoick prodded Hiccup in the chest. “You find a way to get every whiff of stench off that dragon, or he sleeps outside.” And with that, he was marching out the door. “And get into some fresh clothes before you do anything else!”

“Okay, Dad,” Hiccup said to the closing door.

He marched up the stairs and slumped at his desk, staring at the blank papers that sat before him, waiting to have the basics of a plan written out.

“Where to begin?” Hiccup realized he had no idea, and groaned.

Hiccup would like to say he had a complicated plan that’d catch his Night Fury by complete surprise and could be used multiple times, when a bath became necessary.

What he had, however, was a bucket and towels hidden in the cove, and the hope that Toothless would be too sleepy and ready for his nap that he wouldn’t catch on before it was too late.

Hey, his plans couldn’t all be winners.

Hiccup realized that Toothless was coming by the smell that arrived first. It smelled like that cheese he’d once bought off of Trader Johann, only to realize that it smelled like it was something that had curled up and died underneath the floorboards. He nearly gagged before he realized what it was and turned to face the skylight. Framed by the night sky above, his best friend was barely visible.

“Hey, bud,” he said, lifting his hand slightly off the desktop in greetings.

Toothless rumbled back, but from the shuffling of claws against wood Hiccup assumed he was preparing to leap away in case of any sudden moves to bathe him.

“Don’t worry, Toothless,” Hiccup said, grinning at him. “You win. I’m not bathing you tonight, you smelly reptile.”

Toothless snorted, sounding triumphant, and a second later there was a thud from his bed. The room briefly lit up with purplish-white flame before it once again succumbed to darkness that Hiccup’s candle was too small to fight.

Hiccup blinked, suddenly aware of just how gummy and swollen his eyes felt. Had he really stayed awake that late? He hadn’t been aware of just how long he’d been writing about what he and his friends had learned about stink dragons.

He closed the book for the moment and blew out the candle. He then walked over to bed, removed his prosthetic and sock, and slumped down, not even bothering to cover himself with his blanket. If he noticed that he hadn’t changed out of the clothes that’d been splashed by stink dragon stench, he was much too tired to do anything about it.

The next day, Operation: Bath Time was in full effect.

Not that anyone really would’ve suspected it, since Hiccup and Toothless were not making any efforts to go into any body of water, but rather racing through the sky at full speed.

“Yeah! Faster, bud!” Hiccup could barely hear his own voice over the howling of the wind, but he didn’t mind. Flowing with the movements of Toothless beating his wings and shifting with the wind, feeling the full brunt of the wind tearing at his hair, Hiccup felt free.

It also didn’t hurt that the wind tore stink dragon scent away too fast for Hiccup to smell it.

Somehow, Toothless seemed to manage to pick up speed at Hiccup’s shout.

Hiccup smiled. His plan was working perfectly.

He shifted his weight to the side, and Toothless banked sharply. Even Hiccup, who’d grown up in the forge making weapons that felt heavier than him, struggled to keep himself from slamming into his dragon from the momentum.

Hiccup had so much fun putting Toothless through his paces that he almost turned Toothless around straight for their house.

Then he got a whiff of nose-curdling stench and he remembered just why he’d been flying hard around the island.

“What do you say, bud?” Hiccup asked. “We take a nap in the cove?” He knew it’d be appealing; it was closer than the village from where they were, and it was quiet and peaceful. Hopefully, that would lull Toothless into a sleep deep enough so that Hiccup could at least splash some water over him.

Toothless, blissfully unaware of Hiccup’s plan, rumbled in agreement and began to bank toward the cove.

The moment Toothless set down, landing gracefully for a several-ton dragon, Hiccup swung off the saddle. He stretched, hoping his muscles wouldn’t hurt too much tomorrow. His muscles seemed to beg to differ.

“Okay, now let’s get that off you,” he said, reaching out toward Toothless’s saddle.

Big mistake.

Toothless stepped back, squinting at Hiccup and rumbling with suspicion. Hiccup kicked himself. He never took off Toothless’s tailfin for quick naps like this, or when both he and Toothless were too tired to bother. While it was uncomfortable for long-term wear, for brief dozes Toothless always seemed content to keep it on and save the trouble of reattaching it later.

“It’ll be more comfortable without that on,” he said, hoping Toothless didn’t see through the plea. It wasn’t like Toothless could escape the cove without his help, but it wasn’t exactly like he could bathe a dragon that was faster than he was, even on foot.

Toothless grumbled, but let Hiccup take off the flying gear. Just to make sure Toothless bought the lie, Hiccup didn’t even try to touch the prosthetic tailfin. He bundled the saddle up and set it to the side.

Toothless stretched before he trotted over to the overhang created by a giant tree’s roots snaking down the cliffs and settled down in its shade. He then spread a large wing, offering Hiccup a place to rest underneath it.

Hiccup smiled and shook his head, internally sweating. Does he suspect? “Not today, I’m afraid,” he said. “It’s a bit too warm for that today.”

Toothless squinted, but furled his wing and settled down to sleep. Hiccup laid a short distance away, closing his eyes. It took longer than usual, but soon, Toothless’s breaths settled into something longer and deeper as he partook in his favorite pastime: sleep.

Hiccup laid still a few minutes longer, resisting the lull of sleep caused by listening to his best friend snore nearby. After seeing no signs of Toothless waking up beyond his nose twitching every so often, Hiccup slowly got up. He thanked Thor for his idea to oil his prosthetic and make sure there were no squeaks alerting Toothless to the fact that he was getting up.

He very slowly crept over to the crevice in the cove’s walls, where he’d hidden a bucket and a few towels. He left the towels and gently carried the bucket to the lake.

That’s when things got tricky.

It was hard enough scooping water out of the lake without making a great big sloshing sound, but then creeping toward Toothless with a dripping, sloshing bucket? It felt like he was walking the length of Nordrassil instead of just the few feet to his friend.

He paused, an arm’s length away from the slumbering Night Fury. For a moment, Hiccup almost felt bad. Toothless was smiling in his sleep, claws twitching as he chased some unfortunate dream fish.

Then the stench of yak manure settled heavily in Hiccup’s nose like a limpet on a rock, and all guilt vanished.

Hiccup thanked the gods that wet dragons couldn’t breathe fire and threw the water at Toothless.

Hiccup must’ve blinked somewhere, because one minute Toothless was slumbering peacefully where the water was arcing, shimmering in the sunlight, and the next there was a mud puddle and no dragon. Said dragon was lying several feet away from where he’s been, eyes narrowed accusingly.

Hiccup was suddenly very aware that he had no water left in the bucket, and that Vikings were very flammable.

“Hey, bud,” Hiccup said. He hoped that lopsided smile he felt cross his face would make Toothless feel guilty about plasma blasting him to smithereens.

Toothless snorted, and suddenly the dragon was on his feet. Hiccup blinked as the dragon whisked past him, taking in the fact that his hands felt so much lighter than before.

“Toothless!” He shouted, and, no longer caring about the fact that he was against a dragon much faster and stronger than he was, gave chase. “You are getting a bath, like it or not!”

Toothless ran for the lake, and Hiccup could only imagine Toothless hurling the bucket out into the middle of the lake, irretrievable. Therefore, he was confused as Toothless veered to run alongside its shores, until he realized that the dragon had his head lowered to fill the bucket.

Before Hiccup could do anything, if anything could be done, Toothless threw his head back, releasing the bucket. The water arced in a shining, sparkling ribbon in the air, curling as the bucket spun and twirled over Hiccup’s head.

A Night Fury never misses. Gobber’s words echoed in Hiccup’s mind as the ribbon came closer and closer to him.

And then the full force of the water hit Hiccup. It didn’t really hurt, but the water itself was freezing, causing him to instantly shiver like it was winter and he’d been out in the snow.

There seemed to be no sound from the rest of the world. Even the birds seemed to have stopped singing. All that hadn’t retreated was the steady dripping of droplets running off his hair and clothes and dripping onto the ground and the gloating laughs of one particularly smug Night Fury.

Hiccup tried to sweep the hair out of his eyes, but it drooped back over his face. “Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” he asked the Night Fury.

The dragon dropped into a crouch, wagging his tail. Beneath his bared fangs seemed to be a playful challenge. Whoever got the most drenched lost, and neither of them liked to lose.

Hiccup made the spring to the bucket. Toothless may have been the fastest, but Hiccup was closer, and had a head start. He somehow managed to snag the handle without tripping or missing, and veered toward the lake. He then realized how pointless that was as he drew a bucketful of water up and realized that Toothless was now sitting across the lake, barking out a triumphant challenge.

You’re on, Hiccup thought, and lurched toward him.

From then on, it seemed to be a game of cat and mouse, if the cat had the motivation of the twins when it came to doing helpful things and the mouse knew it. Toothless didn’t even bother running away from Hiccup. He’d just sit, smirking, as Hiccup nearly came close enough to get him, and then he’d leisurely trot away. However, Hiccup persisted. Toothless would have to get tired or bored sometime, right?

Maybe so, but unfortunately for Hiccup, Vikings did too, and faster than dragons. Finally, with a defeated sigh, he set the bucket down and flopped onto his back, squinting up at the pale blue sky.

Heavy footsteps shook the earth and the smell of stink dragon filled Hiccup’s nostrils, seemingly to stay, and a shadow blotted out the sun. Said shadow looked quite draconic.

Hiccup grunted and reached an arm for the bucket, but it flopped uselessly down next to it. His windpipes and muscles were all punishing him for his arrogance for trying to do what no mortal could, he was sure of it.

“I hope you’re happy, you useless reptile,” he wheezed.

Toothless gave Hiccup the smirk. The smirk that Hiccup hated right now with all his heart. It wasn’t like Toothless’s gummy smile, but a simple upturning of the corners of his mouth that announced that he’d won the game after all and would delight in rubbing in his victory by smelling up Hiccup’s room for as long as he could avoid bath time.

“Go away and let me sulk in peace.”

Just then, another shape drew into his sight. Hiccup’s eyes widened. “Oh no, Toothless, don’t you–”

With the tip of his tail, Toothless oh-so-gently tipped the bucket, pouring the remnants of water over Hiccup’s face and turning the ground beneath his head to mud, which was surely now oozing into his hair.

“–dare,” Hiccup completed weakly.

Now he was the one needing the bath.

“Now that’s it!” Hiccup said, leaping onto his feet. Splats of mud flew everywhere, one speck even landing on Toothless’s nose as to rub in that that dragon was still unbathed, and that Hiccup’s heroic attempts to change that fact had only succeeded in giving himself more work.

Hiccup ignored the stiffness in his muscles and hurled himself at the dragon, barreling into his shoulder in an attempt to get him into the lake. It was like trying to push all of the island to warmer oceans. He changed tack and tried to drag Toothless into the water by his tail, only to receive that annoying smirk again.

Hiccup didn’t even have time to prepare. The tail in his grasp pulled free, and stumbled and fell from the yank. Before he could hit the ground, he felt his feet yanked out from under him. He felt the familiar pull in his stomach that came with flying. He glanced up–no, down–and saw water beneath him.

Hiccup’s eyes widened with realization and said, “Oh, no Toothless, no, no–”

Toothless ducked his head to face his unwilling passenger and gave him the toothless smile that earned him his name. Hiccup only had time to absorb this before the claws gripping his ankle and fake leg let go, plunging him headfirst into the deepest part of the lake.

Hiccup was stunned for a moment. It felt like he’d crashed again, only the ground gave. The roaring of wind was replaced by stillness beyond a tickling feeling over his face and a soft hissing in his ears.

I’m underwater, he realized, and then it hit him. Toothless had dropped him into the lake.

That does it! He was giving Toothless a bath if it was the last thing he did.

Hiccup managed to get back to the surface of the water. It took him a moment to get his bearings and find Toothless on the shore, smirking at him.

Rage fueled Hiccup as he half-swam, half-flailed toward shore in an attempt to get over and avenge himself. The moment his feet touched bottom, he was scooping up as much water as he could in his skinny little arms and splashing it toward the dragon.

“You! Are! Taking! A! Bath!” Hiccup punctuated this by one last giant splash, but it missed by a mile. Toothless laughed and ran back to the other side of the lake, right where they’d left the bucket.

Hiccup tore off in pursuit, but Toothless made no move to escape. He wasn’t even trying to get the bucket, which was next to him.

Why? Hiccup had no idea why Toothless was making no effort to fill the bucket or even play keepaway with it.

Then he remembered the mud puddle that Toothless had made when he’d spilled it.

“Toothless, don’t!” he cried.

Toothless narrowed his eyes and slowly tilted over until he fell. Then, eyes never leaving Hiccup’s, he began to roll in the mud.

Hiccup tossed himself at him–he didn’t know why, because he certainly didn’t expect to move him–but the dragon surprisingly rolled with his shove, which caused Hiccup to fall face-first into the mud puddle.

Hiccup wiped the goo away from his eyes with his tunic sleeve before squinting at the reptile, eyeing him with mock innocence.

“This doesn’t just mean war, I hope you know,” he said, taking slow, deliberate steps toward his dragon. “I’m declaring a blood feud!”

Toothless burbled, like he didn’t even care.

Hiccup tried to tackle the dragon, but if was learning something today, it was that one should never try and tackle a Night Fury. Toothless didn’t even try to sidestep. Hiccup slammed into a solid wall of scale, leaving a giant face-shaped blob of mud on Toothless’s neck.

Hiccup stepped back and scowled, waving a finger in Toothless’s face. “Okay, mister wise guy, we can do this the hard way or the easy way.”

Toothless twitched an ear.

“The easy way is to hop in the water and wash until you get that stench off you.” Hiccup didn’t expect that to appeal.

The sound Toothless made proved him right.

“The hard way is I get my dad to bathe you.” And Stoick probably could; taller even than other Vikings looming at seven feet, Stoick had grown a lot in size and strength since he allegedly barehandedly decapitated a dragon as a baby.

Toothless blinked, and trotted slowly toward the lake, grumbling in protest.

I didn’t expect him not to try and call my bluff, Hiccup thought, watching the dragon trudge toward the lake as if it were full of eels. But it worked, and Hiccup sent up prayers to all the gods.

With one last grunt, Toothless sat beside the lake. The only part of him taking a bath was his tailfin, which trailed off into the shallows.

Hiccup narrowed his eyes. “All of you.”

Toothless grumbled and rolled his eyes. Hiccup barely saw him stand up before the dragon’s tail rocketed out of the water.

Hiccup managed to throw up his arm before he was even aware of the blob of mud flying off the tailfin. The impact sent him reeling backwards and he fell to the ground, feeling more mud seep into his hair.

He moved his arm from his face, taking in what had just happened. He felt like he had buried his head in the bottom of a lake. Which was accurate, because Toothless seemed to have found all of the lake’s floor and thrown it at him.

And, he realized, looking down, his face wasn’t the only thing caught in the blast. His tunic, his leggings, even some of his boots were covered in mud, twigs, brown leaves, and other stuff.

“Thank you,” Hiccup said, rolling his eyes at the dragon bouncing at his feet. “Just what I wanted, an excuse to take a bath.”

Big mistake.

Hiccup wished he could feel surprised when he was once again flown out into the middle of the lake and dropped, but all that accompanied him as he plunged like a stone into its waters was resignation.

At least I’ve gotten the worst of the mud away, Hiccup thought as he surveyed himself, treading water. The muck in his clothes wasn’t coming off, but his hair and skin felt much less grimy, which was a relief.

Hiccup sighed as he glanced at Toothless, waiting for him on the shore. The grumpiness had long since faded away to excited wiggles and grins as he waited to see Hiccup’s next move.

How can I get Toothless at least to go in the water?

The idea that came was dishonest, but after this fiasco of a bathtime Hiccup figured Toothless deserved it.

“Hey, Toothless?” he shouted. “Can you help me to shore? My muscles are hurting right now. We pushed ourselves a little too hard earlier, I think.”

Toothless grumbled, narrowing his eyes. He wasn’t moving.

“My leg hurts, too.” That was a lie, at least partially. It hurt from the exercise, sure, but not the searing pain that sometimes made it too hard for him to leave bed.

Toothless’s face relaxed slightly. The big softy always fell for the leg trick.

Now the obedient dragon he was in everything else, Toothless dove into the water and swam up to Hiccup. Hiccup easily pulled himself up onto his back.

“Thanks, bud,” he said. He patted his dragon to disguise the fact that he was trying to wipe away a particularly stubborn clump of dirt.

Toothless paused, and Hiccup blinked. The dragon was still standing knee-deep in water.

“Toothless?” He didn’t even manage to finish the question before Toothless’s shoulders slanted underneath him, and he plunged into the lake once more.

Hiccup sat back up, sending water flying in all directions. “Oh, I see!” Not literally, with his hair in his face, a curtain of water pouring out from it.

Hiccup began splashing his dragon, and he was delighted to see that Toothless couldn’t dodge from right next to him. But Toothless didn’t choose to stay and get splashed. Two bounds, and he was in water almost higher than his head while standing on his hind feet. But that, it turned out, was right where he wanted to be.

Hiccup soon realized the futility of trying to throw water with his hands as Toothless beat his wings. He’d heard sailors talk of legendary storms that skimmed the tops off waves and hurled them into boats, and Toothless was determined to live up to those legends. Hiccup felt more like he was underwater than standing in the air.

The water/mud fight continued. Hiccup couldn’t say how long, but he was torn away from trying to hurl another bucketful of water at Toothless when a squawk caught his attention. He dropped the bucket on the ground and spun to face Astrid. She and Stormfly were standing on the edge of the cove. Stormfly was eyeing the two warily, while Astrid had her hands on her hips and had raised an eyebrow at Hiccup.

Hiccup became highly aware that his clothes were stained a dark brown from mud, and he had a stick poking out from his hair at a weird angle. 

“Astrid!” he said, feeling his cheeks prickle with a blush. “What are you doing here?”

“Hiccup, we got back from bathing our dragons hours ago,” Astrid said. “I thought you might need a hand with him–” she gave a sharp nod at Toothless, who grumbled resentfully “–and thought you’d bring him here for a bath.” She seemed to glare at the twig somewhat incredulously. “I didn’t think you’d be having a mud fight with him.”

“He started it.” Hiccup realized that sounding like a three-year-old wasn’t impressing anyone, even if it was true that Toothless started it.

She narrowed her eyes. “And I’m sure you had nothing to do with all this.” She gestured at Hiccup and Toothless.

Hiccup shook his head, trying not to laugh or grin, and failing. “You just gestured to all of us.”

“Exactly.”

“So you came over here to help me clean Toothless?” Hiccup asked, pulling himself free from the lake water and goop that formed the lake floor. “Bit late for that.”

She looked them both over. “I can see that. Should I tell your father you’ll be out a bit later than you thought?”

Hiccup shook his head, splattering water everywhere. “Nah. He’s as clean as he’s getting.”

Toothless grumbled somewhat impressively for a dragon that didn’t want to go in the water in the first place and waddled ashore, a trail of water pouring off of him. The moment he was on dry ground, he shook himself, creating a small rain shower around Stormfly and the two dragon riders.

With an outraged squawk, Stormfly began chasing after Toothless, who only took off on foot with a grin. After some half-hearted scolding from their riders, who were trying and failing to hold back their laughter, the two settled down after one last good-natured snap at each other.

“I’ll tell your dad you’re on your way home,” Astrid said as she clambered aboard her saddle.

“Thanks, Astrid.” He grinned up at her.

She nodded and nudged Stormfly’s side, and a second later there was only a rush of air and fading wingbeats in her wake.

As they walked toward the other side of the cove to grab Toothless’s saddle, Hiccup darted over toward the cove’s exit, pulling out the towels from where he’d hidden them. Thankfully, they’d stayed clean and dry somehow throughout the entire war.

“You know,” Hiccup said, rejoining Toothless, “I was going to share these with you.” He gave the towel a little shake, flaunting it. “But they’re only for good dragons. I’m revoking your towel rights.”

Toothless grumbled, and Hiccup went to pat his hair dry.

A second later, the towels had been ripped from his hands and were slipping into the rippling orange depths of the lake, never to be seen again.

“Real mature, Toothless,” Hiccup said. Hopefully his dad didn’t like those towels too much.

Hiccup and Toothless had to do a whole lap of the island to dry off, but that wasn’t a real tragedy. Hiccup found himself sighing in happiness, face hurting at his smile. His clothes would never be the same again, and he probably had a lecture about losing towels and dirtying clothes to look forward to, but it was worth it.

A contented purr from Toothless said that the dragon had similar sentiments. Well, except for the lecture. And the clothes.

Useless dragon.

Hiccup made sure his hair was nice and dry so he wouldn’t drip water in the house before landing Toothless by the front door. Stoick must’ve been waiting, as he swung the door open the moment Toothless set down. He looked at Hiccup, who realized he looked like he’d crawled out of a swamp but at least had lost the stick in his hair.

“Gods, boy, did you bathe Toothless or crawl out of a swamp?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s a long story, Dad,” Hiccup said, hoping Stoick wouldn’t insist on hearing it. He doubted Stoick would want to hear about the mudfight.

“You’re filthier than Snotlout in a dry spell!” Stoick shoved Hiccup back out the door. “Go and clean up before you come in here!”

With that, the door closed with a solid thud.

Hiccup felt the gaze of two excited eyes on his back.

“Oh, no,” he said, just before he felt something clamp on the back of his tunic.

The ground flashed beneath him, turning from stone to dirt to wood until finally there was nothing but ocean waves below him and the orange sky above.

Hiccup rose, spluttering, to the ocean’s surface, and floundered until he saw Toothless, sitting on the docks and smiling triumphantly.

“Yeah, I admit it. You win.” Hiccup couldn’t even find it in himself to glare. “Now do you mind getting me out?”

Toothless jumped out off the docks, wings spread wide, and Hiccup barely managed to hold his breath before the dragon did a belly flop in the water next to him, sending him out further into the ocean in the resulting wave.

“Or not.”

[wendynerdwrites]

Campfire Fuckplot!

Our Campfire Story for Jonsa shippers. Find out more here!

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Sansa Stark says as she sweeps into her private bath house, depositing her cloak on a hook by the door, “I was just answering petitions and proposing solutions! In my own castle! In my own court!”

 “Wait, what’s actually happening?” Her dark-haired lover sits naked in the hot-spring pool, easing his sore muscles from his sessions in the yards, his elbows propped up on the edge of the pool. “Someone disturbed court today?”

 “Someones,” Sansa informs him as she strips off her gown, “Those Sand Snake women. Who have apparently decided that they know how to run the North better than I do. They kept interrupting my verdicts, telling me what I should and shouldn’t be doing, because that’s ‘not how they do things in Dorne’. As if the standards for a giant desert apply here! When I told them to stop, they got angry, started going on about how my style is pointless and wastes time, and how they were allies of the Dragon Queen first. I told them I wasn’t speaking for or about Daenerys, that I was speaking for myself and ruling my own people. Now members of their retinue are hissing at me when they see me!”

 Jon starts to rise out of the water, looking furious, “Aye, they actually tried to tell me how to fight. Even though none of them use a sword or have ever so much as killed a wight. They can say what they want to me, but if they’re harassing you, now…”

 Sansa sighs. “I’d rather not stir up more fighting. I just hate how they act like they own the place. Please don’t make a scene, Jon. As much as I appreciate the chivalry, I’d rather just relax now.”

 She eyes him, naked and halfway out of the tub, drops of water running down his chest and arms. A naked Jon always has a particular effect on her. As does a wet Jon. But a wet, naked Jon ready to crack skulls to defend her honor? Better than a mountain of lemoncakes. She quickens her pace in unlacing her shift. Jon settles back into his seat, sighing.

 Naked as her name day, the Lady of Winterfell daintily tip-toes to the pool and slips down into the steaming water, onto the side-bench next to him. Her hands fly to his broad shoulders, massaging them generously. Jon throws his head back and moans.

 “You have magic hands, I swear,” he tells her as he leans into her touch. “But speaking of magic…”

 “Oh?”

 “Have you had time to look at the strange artifact Bran found?”

 Sansa groans. Bran had a vision of something involving her, Jon and some stick-thing that was buried in the crypts. He’d found it and turned it over to them. Jon had examined it and not found anything magical thus far. It was a beautiful sort of rod, of carved weirwood, white gold, and a ruby at the top. But they’d yet to figure out what it was, besides pretty. She’s meant to examine it more closely herself, but…

 “I haven’t had time to look at anything!” She complains. She had a kingdom to prepare for war. Since they bent the knee to Daenerys, Sansa, as Lady of Winterfell, became sovereign of the North again. And given the revelation over Jon’s Targaryen heritage, it made it harder to share the burden of governance --- at least publicly--- than it had been when he was the  Stark King in the North. Jon’s decision to submit to Daenerys was highly unpopular, many of the lords who had declared for him saw it as a betrayal. Finding out that their former king is a Targaryen himself certainly doesn’t help things. They tolerate him because he’s the warrior they need and because all the Starks insist. But she couldn’t be seen to be giving him too much power, giving her more to do than when she was the unofficial queen.

 Jon’s face falls. “Well, if you’re willing… I brought it down here.”

 Sansa sighs. She would rather be seducing him right now. But any magical artifact might be of great use in the wars ahead, and it is her duty to explore her options. She reluctantly pulls herself out of the water and goes over to the table where Jon has piled his clothes. She finds the wand fastened to his belt, bends over, and eyes it closely.

 She tries waving it, turning it around in her hands, running her fingers along the smooth, cool surface. But nothing.

 Bran had visions of both of them using it, though… So she wanders back to the pool, wand still in hand.

 “Perhaps if we both hold it?”

 They each grip it by the base and close their eyes, trying to concentrate on, well, making the wand do something. Nothing.

 Finally, they give up, and Sansa sets the wand aside.

 “Oh well,” she says, moving to straddle his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, “Maybe there’s a clue in the library that can tell us how to use it. In the meantime…” She smiles and lowers her head, kissing him deep. She smiles against his mouth as his cock stirs against her. That’s the only magic wand she wants to attend to right now.

 It’s amazing to her how something that once so terrorized her can now be so pleasurable and beautiful. It took her a while to be comfortable engaging in this act with Jon--- they’d worked up to it, a kiss here, a touch there. He’d been the soul of patience. But once they finally coupled, it was paradise. It’s always paradise.

 And when you’re the sole regnant of a country beset by winter, famine, invasion, facing a war with an army of the undead, paradise is exactly what you need. Jon’s her oasis in an icy tundra, in more ways than one.

 And gods, the relief of it. She can forget all her troubles and exhaust all of her pent-up emotions and frustrations when joined with him. After so many years of pain, loneliness, and fear, she feels pleasure, she’s not alone, she’s safe, and she’s loved. And then she relaxes, boneless and blissful.

 Despite how some might view her coupling with him out of wedlock, it’s the purest part of her life. And there’s so little purity in the world today. Being with him, even when they’re not joined, is all that’s good and right.

 And it’s fun.

 Their lips break apart and Jon chuckles, running one calloused hand along her breasts, squeezing one, then the other. His other hand goes to the small of her back to help her balance.

 “In the meantime, we should enjoy our bathtime while we can,” he says, finishing her sentence. He nuzzles her neck. Sansa feels a familiar fire within her core. She clings to him and runs her hands through his thick curls, head thrown back in ecstasy. She grinds her mound against him for a while, relishing the sweet anticipation of it all.

 Finally, she lifts her hips just so, reaching between them to properly position them both. Jon moans when she grips his shaft, and with a playful giggle, she pumps it a few times before finally sheathing him in herself.

 Ah, filled. But it’s not enough. It never is. She can never get enough of him. They press against each other as much as possible… clinging, kissing, clawing, stroking, moaning.

 “Sweet Sansa,” he moans, “Love you… Love you… Love you…”

 That brings her so close. She loves his voice: deep and raspy, but gentle and kind.

 She’s so close, so close---

 BAM!

 “What are you doing?!”

 Sansa jumps, slipping off of Jon and falling back into the water, submerging herself inelegantly. She panics. This is her private bathing chamber! Who would dare…

 Jon scrambles to help her up again, and she gets her answer. Of course, the Sand Snakes.

 She continues to panic. Her affair with Jon is an open secret in the North, true. Everyone knows, no one talks about it. But the Dornish women were likely to break that peace. She grips Jon’s shoulders defensively, glaring at the three women.

 “What in the Seven Hells are you doing?”Jon demands, “This is the lady’s private bath chamber?”

 “Pools should be for everyone, not just the ladies,” Obara Sand insists, “That’s how the Water Gardens works!”

 “This isn’t the Water Gardens!” Sansa spits, “Now get out!”

 The Sand Snakes ignore her. Tyene Sand, the youngest of them, licks her lips.

 “We’re glad you’re not bathing alone, My Lady, but what kind of fucking was that?!” She comes closer, smirking lasciviously, “That’s not how it should be done! Don’t you know that you get the deepest penetration if he takes you from behind?”

 Sansa shivers. Oh, she knows. And she can’t stand the thought of being taken that way again.

 “We don’t need your instruction!” Jon snaps, “What is wrong with you?! GET OUT!”

 Again, the Sands ignore the order. Lady Nym, the middle sister, spots the wand lying by the edge of the pool. Her dark eyes glitter and she makes for it.

 Sansa snatches it before the Snake can take it. “Who do you think you are, barging in here, telling me how to do things? Court wasn’t enough, you have to tell me how to make love, too?!”

 “We know more of the world than you do, My Lady,” Obara insists arrogantly.

 “You know nothing!” Sansa snaps, “And even if that weren’t true, I wouldn’t care. You’ve all been my worst nightmare since you got here! You have no business telling us anything!”

 “For pity’s sake, why can’t you just let us alone?” Jon says, “Let us enjoy ourselves?! We were having a beautiful moment and you just had to butt in?” He pulls Sansa closer to him. “I don’t care how much you think you know of the world. I’d much rather be in a world where you don’t exist!”

 And all of a sudden, there’s a loud, rumbling sound. The bathhouse disappears, replaced by swirling lights of every color. Both she and Jon, clutching one another for dear life, are yanked in one direction. Sansa screams.

~_~_~_~_

I tag @fedonciadale to continue!

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Magic Works In Mysterious Ways - Part 2 (of 3)

Taking care of a child was just as difficult as Tony thought it would be, and he still knew he got off easy since Winter was, in many ways, older than his perceived years.

FRIDAY was a godsend. Without her reminders, Tony was worried that he might forget to feed the kid, and he spent more time organizing his schedule than he had in years.

Some activities were easier than others — like mealtimes and naps. Winter could handle the former on his own as long as Tony gave him the food in appropriate containers, and naps didn't require Tony's input at all. The fact that Winter preferred to sleep on top of Tony's workbench — curled up with a couple of pillows and a blanket — was perhaps a little weird, but also comforting. Tony didn't have to look far to reassure himself that Winter was still there, peacefully asleep.

Winter was less impressed by bathtime. Again, Tony was fairly certain that Winter wasn't as difficult as a normal child would have been, but he was by no means easy. The first time Tony had tried giving him a bath, both of them had ended up soaking wet and Winter only marginally cleaner.

Fortunately, Winter's reluctance had more to do with restlessness than any dislike for water from what Tony could tell — dealing with a phobia would have taken a considerable amount of time and planning. This time, however, the problem was solved by something as simple as a Rubik's Cube. As long as Winter had something to play with, he didn't mind taking baths.

Out of all the items on their schedule, the nights were the worst by far. Not because Winter was fussy — it had been ridiculously easy to get him to sleep that first night, exhausted as he was — but because of the nightmares.

Until Winter got his own room, Tony figured he'd let the kid sleep with him in his bed, since there was lots of room now that Pepper wasn't sharing it with him anymore. So he'd put the kid to bed and made sure he was fast asleep before returning to his workshop to get some work done, telling FRIDAY to keep an eye on the boy. Within an hour, Tony had to rush back to his bedroom to try and soothe Winter's nightmares away.

Being forced to listen to Winter's helpless whimpers nearly broke Tony's heart — especially since it turned out that Winter had those nightmares with painful regularity.

After that first night, Tony made a habit of staying with Winter once the bedtime stories had been read and the kid had nodded off. Tony often brought work with him, sitting with his back against the headboard and tablet in his lap. Other times he fell asleep shortly after Winter, but he always woke when the nightmares started, and did his best to offer comfort.

Those nightmares made Tony wonder just how much Winter knew about his past.

(Mobile readers, watch out for the break!)

While he was a serious child, Winter didn't seem unhappy. Barnes still carried his guilt — visible for everyone to see — but Winter didn't seem to have the same problem. Perhaps he had no memory of all the deaths he had caused while still being a part of Barnes, or perhaps it was only during the nights that they surfaced.

But with or without those memories, Winter was clearly a pretty unusual child.

He rarely threw tantrums, for one, and instead showed his displeasure with flat glares and sullen silences, not unlike Barnes on his bad days. One time, when Tony had tried to make him eat broccoli, Winter had even gone so far as to growl — which had been more adorable than intimidating.

From what Tony could gather, Winter understood more than the average two-year-old should.

He was, like most children, in need of protection and guidance — not to mention unbelievably cranky without his afternoon nap — but also surprisingly independent and clever. He had an impressively large vocabulary, for an example, even if he rarely spoke. He preferred to simply nod or shake his head, or point at whatever he wanted — mostly Tony.

For all his maturity, Winter was still a child — one that loved attention and physical contact. Winter liked to be carried and coddled, and always curled up close to Tony at night, his tiny hands gripping Tony's sleep shirt.

Winter was careful with his affections, however, and was quite shy in front of the other Avengers. He preferred to hide behind Tony's legs or bury his face against Tony's neck whenever someone else was nearby. The only one who had managed to coax a couple of responses out of him was, unsurprisingly, Steve, but Winter clearly liked Tony best.

Tony would be lying if he said that didn't make his heart soar, just a little bit. To be loved so unconditionally by someone was quite addictive, and Tony constantly had to remind himself not to spoil Winter rotten in return.

He suspected that he failed at that, at least when it came to giving Winter attention. Tony got used to carrying Winter around on his hip as he worked, and when he had meetings Winter sat on the floor next to his chair, either drawing or playing simple games on a Stark tablet.

Within a week it reached the point where Tony smiled at the mere sight of the kid, and Winter's laugh — rare as it was — almost made Tony's chest burst with fondness. Somewhere along the way, Tony decided to ignore where Winter came from. It didn't seem important when there was playtime to be had, bedtime stories to read, and tight, heartfelt hugs to be shared.

There were times when Winter tested Tony's patience, of course. Like when he hid his shoes because he preferred to go barefoot, or when he refused to eat anything even remotely resembling vegetables, but those instances were far outweighed by the good ones.

Tony, for all his reluctance towards children, was happier than he had been in a long time, all because of Winter. Tony liked taking care of the kid, and once he had gotten the hang of it, he was pretty good at it too. Winter seemed content, at least, and that was all that mattered.

Tony was so caught up in his and Winter's routines by then that he wasn't entirely prepared for when Barnes decided to enter the scene — even if Tony should have expected it.

One could only live in blissful ignorance for so long, after all.

---

One of the main reasons Tony had chosen to ignore Winter's origins was the fact that he hadn't seen Barnes in over two weeks. Ever since Winter had been dropped into their laps, the former Winter Soldier had avoided Tony even more vigorously than usual. Tony assumed it was because of Winter; Barnes wasn't comfortable seeing the kid, so he stayed away.

Despite Barnes' absence, Tony had made an effort to ask Steve how the man was doing — but the answer had been far from concise.

Apparently, getting rid of the HYDRA programming had helped in several ways, according to Steve. Barnes had fewer nightmares, for one — Tony couldn't help wondering if Winter had gotten them in his stead — and he seemed to have relaxed a great deal. But he was still troubled, both by guilt and his still patchy memory, and apparently spent a lot of his time staring off into space. Barnes seemed distracted, Steve had said, but avoided the subject if Steve tried to ask him what was wrong.

Things could be worse, though, and Tony was genuinely happy for Barnes. Considering what the man had been through, he deserved a break. And, as far as Tony was concerned, Barnes could take all the time he needed to get used to the thought of Winter's existence — the longer he avoided the kid, the longer Tony got to be the one to take care of him.

It was inevitable for Winter and Barnes' paths to cross, however — they lived in the same compound — and when it eventually happened it was, in many ways, anticlimactic.

Tony and Winter were in the kitchen for a shared banana break — Tony's eating habits had improved significantly since he started taking care of Winter — which mostly meant trying to make Winter eat the banana rather than smear it all over his adorable little face.

"Winter, sweetheart, I know your coordination isn't the best, but the food is supposed to go inside your mouth, not beside it," Tony chastised fondly, reaching for some paper napkins. Winter was perched on the kitchen counter, his feet dangling over the edge. "And I know you're just trying to trick me because you managed this perfectly two days ago."

Winter, the cheeky little brat, only grinned, heels thumping against the cabinets as he swung his legs back and forth. In punishment, Tony took a gentle hold of Winter's chin and started wiping his face, holding back a snicker when Winter scrunched up his nose in dislike and tried to twist away.

"No, no, this is what you get when you—" Tony fell silent when Winter stiffened, his gaze snapping to stare at something over Tony's shoulder.

Tony immediately turned around, surprised to find Barnes hovering just inside the kitchen. He looked about as blank as Winter — both of them eyeing each other as if evaluating a threat — but Tony could see the hints of tension in Barnes' shoulders. Even so, Tony knew Barnes hadn't walked in on them by mistake. Barnes should have heard them long before he came anywhere near the kitchen, which meant he must have chosen to finally face the kid.

"Barnes," Tony greeted, trying to ignore the nervous twist in his gut.

Tony got a slow nod in return, but Barnes' focus quickly shifted to Winter — who was still staring at Barnes with his usual intensity. It was difficult to tell what was going through Winter's head in that moment. He didn't seem hostile, but there was certainly wariness in the way he didn't take his eyes off Barnes. Perhaps Winter knew he and Barnes were connected, more so than any two people had ever been; they had essentially been born from the same mind.

When Barnes neither replied nor stepped closer, Tony decided to break the stalemate.

"Winter," he said, waiting until the boy had reluctantly torn his gaze away from Barnes. "Finish your banana."

Winter sneaked a glance at Barnes before doing as told, eating his banana with neat, precise bites. Tony snorted at Winter's suddenly improved coordination and tossed away the used paper napkins.

No one said anything. Winter was busy eating and Barnes continued to stare. Just like with Winter, it was difficult to tell what Barnes was thinking. Perhaps he was trying to overcome the weirdness of being in the same room as a two-year-old copy of himself, or perhaps he was wondering why said two-year-old was wearing a t-shirt with the Iron Man helmet on it.

Let it never be said that FRIDAY didn't have excellent taste.

The silence that settled was uncomfortable enough that Tony decided to break that too.

"He can smell your fear, you know," he said conversationally.

There was a stunned pause. "What?"

Tony looked over his shoulder and smiled crookedly. Barnes had tensed a little further, but was still far from the haunted, subdued shell of a man he had been when he first came to the Avengers headquarters. Removing the programming really had done him a lot of good, offering him some much needed security and peace of mind.

"Winter," Tony clarified. "I haven't run any proper tests, but I'm pretty sure his sense of smell and hearing are enhanced, like yours. No super strength yet, though. We might have to wait for him to reach puberty for that."

Barnes said nothing, still looking wary. Tony only barely managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes. While Barnes' hesitance was understandable in some ways, he'd had over two weeks to get used to the thought of Winter's existence — he should be less awkward than this.

"Do you want a banana?" Tony offered, mostly just to break the silence. And maybe because he liked throwing Barnes off-kilter — Barnes looking confused was better than Barnes looking lost and afraid. "We're having an afternoon snack."

"A banana?" Barnes said the word as if he had never heard of it before — or perhaps it was the offer he found so preposterous.

This time, Tony did roll his eyes. "Yes, a banana."

Barnes remained motionless for a couple of seconds, probably weighing his options, before he finally stepped closer. He moved carefully, as if he expected Tony and Winter to be afraid of him and bolt at a too sudden movement. It was actually a little endearing.

Tony reached for one of the bananas on the counter and held it out towards Barnes. Frustratingly, Barnes only looked at it, still hesitant.

"It's a berry, not a bomb," Tony said.

"They taste weird," Barnes muttered, low enough that Tony almost didn't catch it. He accepted the banana, however.

Tony frowned. "Weird?"

Barnes' gaze flicked up to meet his, but it skittered away just as quickly. That glance was still enough for Tony to see just how nervous Barnes was. Tony couldn't say if it was his or Winter's presence that put Barnes on edge — perhaps both — but he felt himself relax, just a little. As stilted as things had been between him and Barnes since Siberia, Tony felt no desire to make Barnes outright uncomfortable.

They weren't enemies, and there was no need to be defensive.

"Different," Barnes clarified. "Compared to..." He made a vague hand gesture.

It took a second before Tony caught on. "Right. The banana plague." He looked at the fruit bowl on the counter. "Well, I can offer you an apple instead, if you'd rather have that?"

Barnes shook his head and started peeling the banana. "Banana is fine."

Winter was watching the conversation with frankly alarming focus, but he didn't try to intervene. He seemed surprisingly less shy in Barnes' company — as opposed to the other Avengers — but there was some wariness in him still. He looked like he expected Barnes to cause trouble of some kind, and wanted to be on his guard.

This was undoubtedly the most bizarre snack time Tony had ever been part of, but it wasn't bad, per se — just a little strange. It gave Tony hope, though, because while Barnes might not have said so, he was obviously making an effort to spend time with Winter, however awkwardly. Tony hoped that meant Barnes wasn't going to allow Strange to do whatever he had offered to do to Winter.

For that alone, Tony could withstand the weirdness. He even made sure to smile when Barnes thanked him for the banana and left the room, just as suddenly as he had arrived.

Tony looked at Winter, who was gazing up at him with a flat expression.

"Yeah, I know," Tony agreed. "He's a little odd, but he means well."

Winter seemed to ponder this for a couple of seconds, then nodded. Without a word, he raised his arms, asking to be picked up.

"Alright, snowflake, back to the workshop we go," Tony said, lifting Winter off the counter. He couldn't help nuzzling Winter's cheek, grinning when the tickle of his beard made the kid giggle. Tony took a twirling step towards the workshop and Winter squealed from delight, his little face bright with laughter.

Tony kept grinning.

---

Barnes showed up more and more often after that. He stayed out of the workshop and Tony's private quarters, obviously, but whenever Tony and Winter was in any of the communal areas, he seemed to appear — always without warning. More often than not, Winter spotted Barnes long before Tony could.

It was still difficult to tell what the two thought of each other.

Winter smiled less in Barnes' presence than when he and Tony were alone, but he didn't hide from him, either. He also made no attempts to interact with the man, unless Tony suggested it. All in all, though, Winter quickly got used to Barnes' presence.

Barnes, on the other hand, was more hesitant. He always maintained a physical distance between Winter and himself, but it seemed to be out of fear for Winter's safety rather than his own discomfort. Despite this, he was always interested in whatever Winter was up to, as if he genuinely wanted to get to know him. The first time Winter showed Barnes one of his drawings — on Tony's suggestion — Barnes managed a small, tentative smile. The fact that he probably couldn't tell what the drawing was of didn't seemed to faze him in the slightest.

Tony wasn't sure what to think about Barnes' sudden interest in Winter. It was good that he made an effort, but a part of Tony couldn't help wondering if Barnes intended to take Winter away from him. Tony knew he shouldn't think that way. Winter wasn't an object to be shuffled around, first of all, and second, well — Tony still didn't have much of a claim on the kid. He was Winter's improvised guardian for now, but no one seemed to know how long that would last.

Barnes had the power to put an end to it.

Still, Tony made no attempt to limit the time the two spent together. He had no right to, and both Winter and Barnes actually seemed to be enjoying themselves, however slow the progress was.

As the days passed, Winter gained enough confidence to invite Barnes to play with him, though never in so many words. He simply held out a building block or a crayon in Barnes' direction and if Barnes accepted — which he always did — made room for him on the floor or couch he was sitting on.

It was, quite frankly, adorable. Not only because Tony got to see the terrifying former Winter Soldier draw with a two-year-old, but because of the twin looks of concentration on their faces. Tony couldn't help that his heart skipped when he saw just how invested Barnes was — how he listened intently whenever Winter felt comfortable enough to speak, and encouraged the kid with gentle smiles and kind words.

Barnes treated Winter much like one would a little brother — be it one he still didn't know very well.

In no time at all, it became routine for Barnes to spend a couple of hours with Winter and Tony every day. Usually, Tony would have taken Winter back to the workshop after their lunch, but now he relocated to the living room instead, where Barnes joined them without fail.

A part of Tony was a little anxious over sharing Winter's attention with someone else, but all the websites Tony had turned to for information had told him that social interaction was vital for a child's growth. So far, Winter had spent most of his time with Tony, and that kind of isolation was bad. Preferably, Tony should try to find some children of the same age for Winter to play with, but that might have to wait until they had actually given him an identity.

Or Barton volunteered one of his kids, perhaps.

Another benefit of Barnes' presence was that it offered Tony some room to breathe. As much as he loved Winter, the little rascal could be pretty demanding, and Tony hadn't gotten much time for himself since the kid showed up. Tony didn't regret taking responsibility over Winter, but he couldn't deny that it was nice to know that someone else could look after him, if only for a couple of minutes.

Tony couldn't say when he started trusting Barnes with Winter's safety. He was still hesitant about Steve and the other Avengers, but it seemed natural to leave Winter in Barnes' care. Perhaps because they were inevitably linked, though it had become obvious early on that they were quite different people — a revelation that was both surprising and fascinating.

Before, Tony would have guessed that Winter was a clone of Barnes, but that was clearly not the case — not when looking past the physical, at least. The differences were subtle at times, but Winter and Barnes were undeniably two separate people, who liked and disliked different things and behaved in different ways.

Despite Tony fears that introducing Barnes to the situation would disrupt his and Winter's carefully constructed little world, it turned out that he slid into place with shocking ease. Tony was still the one handling the meals, baths, and bedtimes, but Barnes had taken on a lot in terms of keeping Winter entertained and watched over.

Everything was, perhaps a little surprisingly, working out rather well.

---

"You look troubled."

Tony jumped, looking up at Barnes in surprise. He was in the middle of reading another complaint against the new and improved Accords, so he couldn't exactly say that he was enjoying himself. He wasn't sure if he wanted Barnes to know that, though.

"And you should stop sneaking up on people," he chastised, but without much heat. Last time Tony had looked, Barnes had been sitting next to Winter by the kitchen table, playing one of the simple memory games FRIDAY had bought. Somehow, Barnes had made it all the way over to where Tony was leaning against one of the kitchen counters, reading on his tablet, without him noticing.

Barnes didn't seem deterred by Tony's comment. "Are you okay?"

Tony paused, honestly surprised by the question. Even if he and Barnes had been spending a lot more time together the past week, they had never actually talked to each other; not about anything of importance, at least, and certainly not about either of their well-beings. He hadn't thought Barnes noticed, and wanted to bring it up in a conversation even less.

"I'm perfectly fine," Tony replied on pure reflex. It wasn't that far off from the truth. He made sure to soften his words. "But thank you for asking."

Barnes stared at him — as if trying to solve a puzzle — and Tony had to force his posture to remain relaxed. He couldn't say what Barnes was looking for, but he was obviously gearing himself up for something.

Hopefully nothing bad.

Barnes cleared his throat, glancing down at the floor before meeting Tony's eyes again. He had been seeking out eye contact more and more often lately, which was a rather nice change from all the distracted staring he'd seemed to favor before Winter came into existence.

"I was thinking..." Barnes rubbed the back of his neck, starting over. "Or, I wanted to ask..." He fell silent, looking as if the words had failed him — or perhaps it was his courage. It was difficult to tell.

"Ask away," Tony urged.

"Can I help?" Barnes asked the question so gingerly that Tony knew he had to tread carefully.

"Help?"

Barnes nodded. "Yeah, with Winter. You know, meals and bedtime and... things." He shrugged, but it looked stiff. "I used to have sisters — baby sisters — so it's not like I don't know how to do it."

Tony's first reaction was to flat our refuse, but he knew that was his protective instincts talking — together with a level of possessiveness that was frankly just unhealthy. Instead he forced himself to consider the offer rationally, and he had to admit that it would help a great deal. Tony was finding it difficult to manage his time, especially now that he couldn't spend as many hours in the workshop on account of the play dates with Barnes.

Perhaps sharing the responsibility wouldn't be so bad. Barnes had proven that he genuinely cared for Winter, even if he still seemed a little intimidated sometimes. Tony swallowed down the trickle of fear — the thought of losing Winter was terrifying — and decided to be a grownup for once. For Winter's sake, if nothing else.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind some help."

Barnes blinked, looking as if he'd expected his request to be rejected. The surprise shifted into delight soon enough, even if it was careful and a little subdued.

"It's bedtime soon, right?" Barnes asked. He obviously wanted to get started right away.

Tony smiled and put the tablet down; the Accords could wait for another hour or two. "How about I show you the routine and you'll do it tomorrow?"

Barnes nodded and looked over at Winter. His gaze was as soft as his smile, and there was something achingly hopeful in his expression. Tony saw a lot of vulnerability in the line of his shoulders and tightness around his eyes, but Barnes still looked like a man who was finally willing to begin to heal, however tentatively.

It was breathtaking to watch.

Tony stubbornly refused to acknowledge the skip in his heartbeat, and instead set about teaching Barnes about Winter's bedtime routine.

It was safer that way.

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- Amethystina