AUTHOR'S NOTE: I just felt like talking about the pants. Or the lack thereof. No real reason. *cough*NO PANTS FOR TOONS*cough*
Also, to any Drakepad shippers out there, this one was for y'all. Love ya!
Drake and Launchpad were seated at the fluffy living room couch, sipping on coffee and watching the hot new woodworking show, "Morning Wood with Jack the Carpenter".
Launchpad was dressed in an outfit he'd been breaking in lately, which consisted of heavy-duty cargo pants and boots, and a cozy, leather aviator jacket over a simple, green T-shirt. Drake was in his usual attire of his tackiest green sweater vest over a "salmon"-colored button-up shirt.
…and no pants?
Launchpad wasn't sure why he only noticed it now. He was around Drake practically 24/7, whether as the pilot and sidekick of the daring Darkwing Duck, or as the co-guardian of Gosalyn, Drake's adopted bundle-of-joy. He'd even moved into Drake's room just a few weeks ago, their blossoming romantic relationship turning into something serious. He could've noticed Drake's lack of regular bottom-covering at any one of those times, but for some strange collision of stars or other supernatural reason, it stuck out to Launchpad this morning like…
…well, like someone being the only one in the room without pants.
Was there a big reason behind this? Did a big event in Drake's life spearhead his decision to remove the covering from his feathered legs? It couldn't have been a simple thought, could it?
Before he could stop himself, the question pushed its way out of Launchpad's beak. "DW, how come you don't wear pants?"
To say Drake was caught off-guard with Launchpad's inquiry would be an understatement. He was sipping at his mug when Launchpad's question poked at his ear, and he promptly began choking on his gulp. He coughed and hacked it away from his lungs and it burned his throat as it was shoved down his esophagus to safety.
Launchpad was shocked. He didn't mean for any of that to happen, and as he patted Drake's back to ease his coughing, the regret he felt turned his face a bright red. "I-I'm sorry, DW," he stammered, "I don't k-know how that came out."
Once Drake regained control of his breathing, he chuckled to offset his own embarrassment. "You only now noticed, huh?" he said with a side of sarcasm.
"Well, I mean…"
"I'm joking, ya big lug," he said with a shake of his head, before his stuttering pilot could continue.
Launchpad sighed as his face slowly came back to its white color. "I'm just glad you're okay."
The room was silent again for a few moments after that small incident. Launchpad continued sipping his coffee and staring at the TV. Drake crossed his legs and turned his gaze to Launchpad. That sweet pilot he shared a bed with was such a lovable oaf sometimes. Drake sighed and wondered if he deserved him, that innocent soul currently marveling at Jake the Carpenter's work-in-progress poker table. Even if he didn't deserve LP, he was thankful he had him anyway.
And you know, he did ask a valid question.
"I was always more comfortable without pants," he began, "but Mommy insisted. Probably didn't want to give kids another reason to laugh after the molting fiasco. Although remembering the reactions when Darkwing Duck debuted at the prom, I wonder why I never got rid of the cursed things sooner."
"Well, it's a big lifestyle change," Launchpad chimed in.
"Not all that much," Drake retorted, "I mean, certainly not too big for Herb Muddlefoot." He said his neighbor's name with a healthy dose of disgust. "It's a stupid thing, really."
"I don't care. I like it."
Drake smiled, and even blushed a little bit at his boyfriend's simple compliment. Launchpad's grin grew as well, and he scooted closer to his hero, wrapping his arms around Drake. The two sighed contentedly and nuzzled into each other's company. Pants or no pants, these two were happy.
