Fic - "Sunday Morning (That May Be All I Need)"
Title: Sunday Morning (That May Be All I Need)
Author: colonel_bastard
Characters/Fandom: Megamind, Roxanne, Metro "Wayne" Man. Megamind [dur].
Word Count: 1,034
Rating: PG
Summary: It turns out that Megamind is what might be described as a "vigorous dreamer."
Warnings: Fluff and nonsense. Implications of a healthy and stable three-way relationship, SHOCKING. Set after the events of the film.
Notes: A birthday quickie for invderlava. I asked for a pairing and a quick prompt, and she gave me "Megamind/Metro Man/Roxanne, mornings." Then this happened. I was very inspired by the hilarious blog Sleep Talkin' Man, a wife's documentation of her husband's outrageous nocturnal mumblings. I tried to make it cuddly and romantic for you, Lava, but it ended up getting just so silly. As compensation I titled it after one of my favorite cuddly and romantic songs, Maroon 5's Sunday Morning, which to me is the perfect picture of a long morning spent in bed with a lover. Or, well, this this case, lovers. Happy birthday, dear one, and I hope you enjoy it.
Mornings are interesting in this bed. That’s because the nights are interesting. Megamind keeps erratic hours--- he’s often out late patrolling the streets, and he usually doesn’t crawl into the king-size bed until three or four o’clock. Wayne sleeps like a log so he doesn’t always notice, but Roxanne wakes up every time the mattress dips towards the weight of a third person, when the blanket lifts up and cold air rushes in.
Which side of the bed he gets in on depends on what kind of night he’s had. If it’s been a rough, exciting patrol with skirmishes and captures, he’ll climb in beside Wayne, clinging to the big man greedily, his eyes gleaming with exhilaration. Wayne understands the thrill of his work, and if he wakes up he’ll pull Megamind onto his chest like a teddy bear and the two will whisper gleefully until the exhausted little hero dozes off. If it’s been a long, fruitless night wandering the empty streets, he’ll climb in beside Roxanne, pulling her into his arms and resting his head against hers. He’s admitted to them all that it’s the patrols where nothing happens that make him the most nervous, spending the whole night waiting for something to go wrong, the tension mounting with every uneventful hour. His nerves are fried by the time he nudges up beside her, and every time he mumbles, “sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Roxanne always answers, “I’m glad you did.” She rubs his back until he falls asleep.
This is where the mornings start to get interesting. Thanks to his unusual sleeping habits, Megamind usually hits the deepest part of his REM cycle right around seven AM. The good news is that this means they never have to set an alarm clock. The bad news is that rather than be woken up by ringing or buzzing, they get woken up by thrashing limbs and slurred, nonsensical rambling.
It turns out that Megamind is what might be described as a “vigorous dreamer.” It’s probably that enormous brain of his--- even running at half-speed it keeps him busy, and without any kind of conscious filter on his outrageous mouth, his bed partners are allowed to eavesdrop on his imagination running amok.
This particular morning, Roxanne wakes up to Wayne’s heavy hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle shake.
“Shhh!” he giggles, then points down at Megamind, sandwiched between them. “Listen to this.”
“I have had it with this,” the superhero mumbles fiercely. “I said I wanted freesias, these are fuchsias, oh my God, the banquet is ruined.”
“Wha-hat?” Roxanne giggles through a yawn.
“He’s planning some kind of garden party,” Wayne murmurs, smiling fondly at Megamind’s grumbling. “Apparently the caterer fell through, so he’s in a rotten mood.”
Megamind is sprawled on his back in a long, lean curve, the convex of which runs along the line of Wayne’s torso. One twitching hand rests on his bare belly--- he ditched the flannel pajamas when Wayne moved in, switching to boxers so that he wouldn’t get so hot all squashed between the two of them, which is his favorite place to sleep. His other arm snakes in Roxanne’s direction and vanishes under her waist, and just as she notices that, she feels his fingers pressing into her ass.
“Ummm,” he smirks, nodding his approval. “These peaches are so firm. We should slice them and serve them with sugar. The Duchess will be so pleased.”
With a hand clapped over his mouth, Wayne’s laughter explodes out through his nose in a painful-sounding honk. His eyes gleam with tears and his shoulders shake. Roxanne smacks him repeatedly on the arm, her other hand covering her own mouth, muffling her giggles into shrill gasps. They scuffle as silently as they can, Roxanne slapping and Wayne batting her away, until Megamind suddenly snorts and flops abruptly onto his side. The other two freeze. They hate to wake him, preferring to enjoy the show until he snaps out of it on his own accord--- and fortunately he’s still out cold, nuzzling sluggishly at Wayne’s hairy chest.
“By the power of Zeus!” he gasps suddenly. “After all these years of questing, I have found it at last! The Golden Fleece!”
Between Wayne’s flabbergasted expression and the lusty way Megamind grabs onto his abs, Roxanne can’t contain herself any longer. She unleashes a yelp of a laugh, a noise that startles Megamind awake with a bark of, “The noodles are coming!” He sits bolt upright and stares all around him, wide-eyed and bewildered when he sees only Wayne and Roxanne dying of giggles. Realization dawns on his face and he slumps down sheepishly between them, where they comfort his embarrassment with a flurry of kisses.
“I hope I wasn’t talking about the cheese monkeys again,” he says as Wayne kisses an ear and Roxanne kisses the opposite cheek.
“Garden party,” Wayne purrs, swiping an affectionate lick against his slender neck. “For the Duchess.”
“You also found the Golden Fleece,” Roxanne smiles against his temple.
“At least it sounds like I’m having a good time when I’m asleep,” Megamind smiles, and taking a hand from each of them, he brings each fingertip to his lips, one by one.
“Actually....” Wayne says, making eye contact with Roxanne, who finishes the thought.
“...we’re both a little more interested in having a good time when you’re awake.”
“Well, uh, I guess we could have a real-life garden party,” Megamind furrows his brow. “If that’s what you mean.”
Wayne leans down and whispers, “I don’t think that’s what she means.”
Megamind’s eyes widen, his face peeling into a grin. “Do you mean sex? Please tell me you mean sex.”
“Yeah,” she nods, laughing. “I mean sex.”
“Okay!” Megamind calls gleefully. “On the count of three, everybody get naked--- one-two-three-GO!”
And this is where the mornings start to get really interesting.
_________end.
Author: colonel_bastard
Characters/Fandom: Megamind, Roxanne, Metro "Wayne" Man. Megamind [dur].
Word Count: 1,034
Rating: PG
Summary: It turns out that Megamind is what might be described as a "vigorous dreamer."
Warnings: Fluff and nonsense. Implications of a healthy and stable three-way relationship, SHOCKING. Set after the events of the film.
Notes: A birthday quickie for invderlava. I asked for a pairing and a quick prompt, and she gave me "Megamind/Metro Man/Roxanne, mornings." Then this happened. I was very inspired by the hilarious blog Sleep Talkin' Man, a wife's documentation of her husband's outrageous nocturnal mumblings. I tried to make it cuddly and romantic for you, Lava, but it ended up getting just so silly. As compensation I titled it after one of my favorite cuddly and romantic songs, Maroon 5's Sunday Morning, which to me is the perfect picture of a long morning spent in bed with a lover. Or, well, this this case, lovers. Happy birthday, dear one, and I hope you enjoy it.
Mornings are interesting in this bed. That’s because the nights are interesting. Megamind keeps erratic hours--- he’s often out late patrolling the streets, and he usually doesn’t crawl into the king-size bed until three or four o’clock. Wayne sleeps like a log so he doesn’t always notice, but Roxanne wakes up every time the mattress dips towards the weight of a third person, when the blanket lifts up and cold air rushes in.
Which side of the bed he gets in on depends on what kind of night he’s had. If it’s been a rough, exciting patrol with skirmishes and captures, he’ll climb in beside Wayne, clinging to the big man greedily, his eyes gleaming with exhilaration. Wayne understands the thrill of his work, and if he wakes up he’ll pull Megamind onto his chest like a teddy bear and the two will whisper gleefully until the exhausted little hero dozes off. If it’s been a long, fruitless night wandering the empty streets, he’ll climb in beside Roxanne, pulling her into his arms and resting his head against hers. He’s admitted to them all that it’s the patrols where nothing happens that make him the most nervous, spending the whole night waiting for something to go wrong, the tension mounting with every uneventful hour. His nerves are fried by the time he nudges up beside her, and every time he mumbles, “sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Roxanne always answers, “I’m glad you did.” She rubs his back until he falls asleep.
This is where the mornings start to get interesting. Thanks to his unusual sleeping habits, Megamind usually hits the deepest part of his REM cycle right around seven AM. The good news is that this means they never have to set an alarm clock. The bad news is that rather than be woken up by ringing or buzzing, they get woken up by thrashing limbs and slurred, nonsensical rambling.
It turns out that Megamind is what might be described as a “vigorous dreamer.” It’s probably that enormous brain of his--- even running at half-speed it keeps him busy, and without any kind of conscious filter on his outrageous mouth, his bed partners are allowed to eavesdrop on his imagination running amok.
This particular morning, Roxanne wakes up to Wayne’s heavy hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle shake.
“Shhh!” he giggles, then points down at Megamind, sandwiched between them. “Listen to this.”
“I have had it with this,” the superhero mumbles fiercely. “I said I wanted freesias, these are fuchsias, oh my God, the banquet is ruined.”
“Wha-hat?” Roxanne giggles through a yawn.
“He’s planning some kind of garden party,” Wayne murmurs, smiling fondly at Megamind’s grumbling. “Apparently the caterer fell through, so he’s in a rotten mood.”
Megamind is sprawled on his back in a long, lean curve, the convex of which runs along the line of Wayne’s torso. One twitching hand rests on his bare belly--- he ditched the flannel pajamas when Wayne moved in, switching to boxers so that he wouldn’t get so hot all squashed between the two of them, which is his favorite place to sleep. His other arm snakes in Roxanne’s direction and vanishes under her waist, and just as she notices that, she feels his fingers pressing into her ass.
“Ummm,” he smirks, nodding his approval. “These peaches are so firm. We should slice them and serve them with sugar. The Duchess will be so pleased.”
With a hand clapped over his mouth, Wayne’s laughter explodes out through his nose in a painful-sounding honk. His eyes gleam with tears and his shoulders shake. Roxanne smacks him repeatedly on the arm, her other hand covering her own mouth, muffling her giggles into shrill gasps. They scuffle as silently as they can, Roxanne slapping and Wayne batting her away, until Megamind suddenly snorts and flops abruptly onto his side. The other two freeze. They hate to wake him, preferring to enjoy the show until he snaps out of it on his own accord--- and fortunately he’s still out cold, nuzzling sluggishly at Wayne’s hairy chest.
“By the power of Zeus!” he gasps suddenly. “After all these years of questing, I have found it at last! The Golden Fleece!”
Between Wayne’s flabbergasted expression and the lusty way Megamind grabs onto his abs, Roxanne can’t contain herself any longer. She unleashes a yelp of a laugh, a noise that startles Megamind awake with a bark of, “The noodles are coming!” He sits bolt upright and stares all around him, wide-eyed and bewildered when he sees only Wayne and Roxanne dying of giggles. Realization dawns on his face and he slumps down sheepishly between them, where they comfort his embarrassment with a flurry of kisses.
“I hope I wasn’t talking about the cheese monkeys again,” he says as Wayne kisses an ear and Roxanne kisses the opposite cheek.
“Garden party,” Wayne purrs, swiping an affectionate lick against his slender neck. “For the Duchess.”
“You also found the Golden Fleece,” Roxanne smiles against his temple.
“At least it sounds like I’m having a good time when I’m asleep,” Megamind smiles, and taking a hand from each of them, he brings each fingertip to his lips, one by one.
“Actually....” Wayne says, making eye contact with Roxanne, who finishes the thought.
“...we’re both a little more interested in having a good time when you’re awake.”
“Well, uh, I guess we could have a real-life garden party,” Megamind furrows his brow. “If that’s what you mean.”
Wayne leans down and whispers, “I don’t think that’s what she means.”
Megamind’s eyes widen, his face peeling into a grin. “Do you mean sex? Please tell me you mean sex.”
“Yeah,” she nods, laughing. “I mean sex.”
“Okay!” Megamind calls gleefully. “On the count of three, everybody get naked--- one-two-three-GO!”
And this is where the mornings start to get really interesting.
_________end.