#in fucking pieces and writing this gave me like 24 cavities... domestic kaehill will be my (boot)hill to die on

[ccaptain]

@aguilareye: “I’m going to carry you, now, ok?” ( meme prompt. )

   From the sleepy mass in his lap that is Kaeya comes a really sad, heartbreaking whine.

   Given that poor Boothill has been trying to get up after not one, not two, but three rounds of morning cuddles and kisses, we can safely conclude that the Enigma is just being a bit bratty, this morning. Being picked up means that he'll be carried to to do their morning routine, the one he's so fond of that they developed once the cyborg settled down in Kaeya's Room. Their Room, now.

   But today he's so sleepy and comfy, the bed is so warm while Boothill is just that good bit of warmed-up-by-the-sheets side of tiepid that's still wonderfully chilly. In fact, mischievous Enigma was perfectly fine pratically plastered atop of him, cuddled in the scent of leather and faint gunpowder ( which quickly became his favorite one, would you look at that, ) when he was swept up by the other's sudden movement with a little squeep! of surprise. 

   Now poor Kaeya is in his lap, bare, long legs curled around his middle for support and arms secured around his neck in case the warning didn't came- his eyes are still firmly closed, a little dog-like whine pitching in for how much he thinks about starting the day. A wonderful concept, was one not so sleepy.

   ' I'm so nice and comfy and you pick me up from the bed, ' he protests, grumbling into warm skin of Boothill's neck, not so mean-spirited. Off his mouth, unfiltered, slips out ' worst husband ever. Ten bar zero. He bullies me because I'm cute as a button and tells me we're getting up, sugar but I don't wannaaaaaaaa. '

   A long moment of silence. Then, proounced solemnly and with an ominous voice-

   ' Revenge. '

   And he proceeds to raspberry the tender skin of Boothill's neck without an ounce of mercy.

   The Hunt loses a valiant Pathstrider, today.