Wild Marriage
Coffee and Tybalt don't always make life easy for their kid and roommate...
Author's Notes
I, as the author, am absolutely aware of the fact that violence is a dicey topic when it comes to relationships, and do not endorse making fun or light of domestic violence.
Coffee and Tybalt fight very physically because physical displays of strength are big parts of what they like in each other, they know that the respective other is truly fine with it, and both are experienced fighters who never dish out more than the other can easily parry or evade. That doesn't make it something to emulate, but it's a key component of their relationship.
“Uncle Cooooole!” Tarts words were almost drowned out by the first bigger impact and the way it shook the entire building. Still, Cole carefully peeked out of the door.
“I heard, I heard. They’ve already started, huh?”
“Yeah.” Tart seemed unimpressed, even as the house shook again and some plaster dropped down from the ceiling right next to them. “C'mon, if I don’t get you outta here, Dad will throw a fit again.” They held out their hand for Cole, and he quickly grabbed it. At least with Tart by his side, he was relatively safe, even when they would pass the living room.
Loud, high-pitched noises were audible from there, followed by the hellish buzz of Coffees demonic minions. It soon decreased in volume when Tybalt knocked out the first twenty or so.
“What did even set them off?”, Cole asked, blinking into the sun relievedly as they exited the house.
“Hell if I know. I think it’s another age discussion and just escalated again.” Tart sighed, looking at the shaking building. “I just wish I wouldn’t have to babysit you whenever they do this. Nothing personal, but I was in the middle of a really cool dungeon…”
“No hard feelings.”
“Thanks, uncle Cole.”
As always, it didn’t take long before the place stopped shaking again, the demonic voices inside fading along with the other sounds of battle. Cole smiled in relief, but as he moved closer to the entrance, he noticed that Tart was not by his side. He turned around to them with a confused look on his face.
“Are you not coming?”
Tart made a face.
“Ew. No. They’ve stopped fighting.”
“…yes, that was actually my point?”
“Uncle Cole. You do know that after they stop fighting…”
“…yeah?”
“…they make up?”
Cole pulled his hand away from the doorknob, staring at it for a while. He was pretty certain that he heard some kind of faint chirping from behind the door.
“…you know what, let’s go have ice cream or something else that we can do far away from here.”, he mumbled and trotted off, Tart following him with a quiet chuckle.