Summary: smut happens, and fluff happens. Can you tell my life has gone to hell? Please say no. Sorry for the wait, just read the last chapter to understand lmao.
The author was high but you can't tell.
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The air was sweet and warm with tenderness. The sky was as plastic and blue as ever and the atmosphere was calm and peaceful. The 3 boys were with a new teacher, a multi-colored teddy bear plushie that was teaching them about childhood wonder. And speaking of teachers, briefcase and coffin were happily sleeping together in their shared bed. The two had met a while ago, though their not sure how or when. It was being alone and then not. They didn't need to teach anything because it was an "off" day so to speak, and so they both wanted to spend some time together before the eventual physiological torture that they would bestow on the 3 others. So here there are, sleeping in peaceful bliss, spooning each other as they sleep. Coffin being the big spoon and the briefcase the little. Last night was rough for them (in the best way possible 😩) and they both were exhausted. The briefcase was the first to wake up as usual, he was an organized man, the type to have a daily schedule. And coffin kept on top of him, DEAD asleep. (I'm Painfully unfunny) The briefcase tried to move slightly, so as not to wake up his partner. Even though he sleeps like a dead man (ha). He tries to push himself up a bit, the coffin is so tall to the point where he is pushing his briefcase down into the bed. The other one still lies, not even flinching at the action. This makes briefcase move his entire body in one go, no need to be careful when your partner is sleeping like they're in a coma. So briefcase continues his daily routine; Brush teeth, shower, and cook breakfast. It's was about 8:30 when coffin had finally woken up. Briefcase had his back turned to him as he was making some from of bacon? It was gray so they don't really know what it is. "Morning hun" briefcase started in a preppy tone.
" It turns out we have nothing on our agenda today! an off today for us, and a well deserved one might I add." That was briefcase for you, happy toned and preppy which is weird for someone who works in practical hell. In all honesty, they two have almost nothing alike, briefcase is cheery and had a more bombastic and demanding personality, while coffin is melancholic and dreary to the touch. He speaks in long drawn out sentences that make him seem tired and depressed. His wooden body is made out of weeping willow trees (man I and on a roll with the puns). And is rotting from the tears of people who lost their loved ones. He's nothing like briefcases shiny leather body, or golden buckled latch. There different in appearance in every way, but the thing they both love is their work and sex. They love sex more than work though. Like, A LOT more.
So there they were, briefcase frying the gray mystery meat and coffin hardly functioning. A long drawn out groan came from his throat, he is basically a walking corpse in the morning ( do you get it?). He stumbled towards briefcase like a zombie (I'm will make a pun counter just for this chapter).
"Honey?" questioned briefcase in confusion. He was used to his partner being dead silent (please don't unfollow me ) but this was strange behavior for coffin, he would at least attempt to say hi or something along those lines, but it was dead quiet for almost two minutes (ha). Briefcase was about to turn away from his food when he felt coffin wrap his arms around him and pull him closer. "Oh!-" he screamed in surprise, startled by his lover's action. It took him a second to adjust before he realized that something was poking him from behind.
"Babe?, are you?-" "Yes." Coffin interrupted briefcase, stopping him from finishing his sentence.
"My morning wood is particularly heavy today" (hahahah morning wood, get it? Because he's a coffin. And coffins are made of wood-no? Okay. )
Coffin buried his head into briefcases neck. (Bitch what neck?, look at him.)
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( he has no neck. Briefcase is a neckless bitch. Look at him. Not a lick of neck I'm sight.)
Coffin buried his head into briefcases neck. (Even though he has none ) and began to suck on it slightly (but how though?) leaving a couple of hickeys (bitch. how?). (Imma need y'all to pretend they human). This made briefcase buck his knees for a second, causing him to to put his full body weight on coffin. Coffin, being much bigger and stronger than him simply picked briefcase up by the thighs (you mean his string beans? Those are pencils not thighs.) and carried him into their room. (Don't worry the stove is still on and the bacon/mystery meat will in fact burn.) Coffin threw brief (I'm calling him brief now) on the bed, causing him to yelp slightly. Coffin was now on top of him and looked lustful. He was staring down at briefcase (I changed my mind) looking him dead in the eye. (Ha) Coffin smiled and grazed his hand gently across briefcases face. He loved briefcase to death (ha). He loved the way he was dedicated to himself and his work. His passion in every word, his mind and his body (That boi rectangular tho, his face IS his body). Every little things made coffin want to praise him to the heavens above (ha, get it? Cuz death and heaven? No? Okay-) (also smut starts here so)
He loved the man underneath him with all his heart. In previous years he had been cold-hearted, a numb ghost of a man (ha) who didn't know what to do with himself and only knew how to bring people to their grave. But lately? His melancholy performance of life had dulled down to a warmer tone. He seemed happier, smiled more, relaxed even. Sure, he still had his job, a task such as that is not something one can simply give up on. But now when the day ends and his body is creaking with exhaustion he has a special someone to comfort his tired body. Let him waste away as he should choose without a care in the world. The world, he thought for a moment, The world. Briefcase was the world to him. His savior in times of need, pain and grief, sorrow or anguish, there was briefcase. He cherished him, and briefcase cherished him too.
And now he would fuck him.
"My dear,...." Coffin drew out of honey lips and saluted voice. "May I?....." he questioned his partner Briefcase cupped coffins face with both hands and pulled coffin into a long, sweet and tender kiss. He stared up lovingly into his eyes before whispering a humble "yes" into coffins ears. Coffin leant forward, pressing a lingering kiss to briefcase's forehead. "I love you, briefcase." His voice came out in a murmur like brief was the only one supposed to hear it; a prayer for the man he loved. "My sweet, sweet boy....." Coffin praised briefcases body, soul, and voice.
