**Poofy. I don't care if it's a real word or not. I like it. **

"Grouchy?"

"What makes you think so?"

"You look like it."

Waluigi didn't even look away from the TV, "I'm fine, okay?"

I crossed my arms, "You're watching a murder fest."

He shrugged, "Nothing else is on."

I smirked at him before I wandered into the kitchen, fishing through the refrigerator for leftover pasta salad and wine. I set everything on the counter as I glanced into the trash can, a ripped up letter was sitting atop of the rest of the garbage.

So, that's what was wrong. I could make out that it was a very formal letter from his previous place of employment basically telling him to go screw himself all because of something that was blamed on him. I told him not to get that dang job in the first place.

"Hey," I returned, balancing two glasses and the bowl of pasta salad on a tray, "You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." He growled.

I sighed as I grabbed the remote, powering off the TV. Waluigi whined as I sat down next to him, placing the tray on the coffee table in front of us, "Then let's just not talk about anything."

He sighed, "I wanna watch TV."

"I wanna I wanna I wanna." I mocked, holding a glass of wine out to him.

He snarled at me before he snatched it, "Eyeballs."

I smiled at him before I let my eyes wander down the rest of his body. Oh, deary, deary me.

He was wearing his poofy pants this afternoon.

I reached over, resting a hand on his thigh and rubbing circles into his skimpy muscle. "That bad of day..."

"Neh." Waluigi took a sip of his wine, bringing his other leg up to wrap his arm around it.

I chuckled and leaned over to kiss his cheek, "It's cute when you wear this."

"I'm not cute, damn it."

"Sure you're not." I rolled my eyes, "Just like you're not when you wear your thigh socks."

Waluigi narrowed his eyes, "Quit poking fun at me for my house wear."

"Oh, Wally, it's all adorable how you can go from black and moody tight fitting overalls to poofy lavender pajama bottoms and fuzzy socks."

"Hn." He sipped his wine.

I knew he wouldn't admit that his choice of clothing was uncomfortable, I'm amazed his overalls haven't suffocated him with how tightly they fit on his slim torso and how he can still feel his legs with how tight they are in the thigh area (need we mention what it does to his poor bum?). Be it a bad day, a long day, or whenever he just feels moody the first thing he does is throw those overalls into the hamper and puts this specific pair of pajama bottoms on. It makes him look disproportionate, as the shirts he chooses still hug his body like his normal attire does, so he looks like someone took his legs and bloated them up.

But if it's something he's comfortable in, I won't tell him what I think about it.

I rubbed his stomach, "Got a tummy ache from tight clothes again?"

"No," he slapped my hand away, "I'd like for you to not do that either."

"Hnm," I picked up the bowl of pasta salad, setting my glass of wine on the table, "But I like rubbing your tummy."

"Makes me feel fat." he snapped.

"Don't even start." I glared at him as I shoved a fork into the pasta, pulling it back out and holding it towards him, "You're about to lose all muscle. Say ahh."

Waluigi shook his head, "Don't wanna."

"Ahh." I repeated.

He glared, "No."

I smirked, "Pretend it's my pe-"

"Oh don't even." Waluigi snapped, that adorable blush of his burning his cheeks.

I waggled my eyebrows, "C'mon~!"

He huffed, "Fine." he opened his mouth slightly, wide enough for me to stick the fork in.

"Don't let it sit in your mouth," I growled as I pulled the fork from his mouth, "Chew and swallow."

He rolled his eyes as he quickly did so, leaning back in surprise whenever I held another forkful out to him.

"Just a little, I'm not gonna kill you." I rubbed his arm, "C'mon."

He hesitantly let me feed him, slowly and calmly until he completely reused to eat anymore. I brushed some hair from his face as I complemented him, "You ate more than half, you're getting better."

"I guess I am." Waluigi downed the rest of his wine, "That'd keep me full for a week."

I snorted, "If you're starving yourself to stay skinny again..."

"I'm not. My stomach is just...small."

I laughed as I pulled him into a hug, "Understandable, love," I kissed his neck, "Now, why don't we go resume winding down?"

He leaned back to look at me, "Shoulder massage?"

"I had something else in mind, but if that's what you want, mi amore." I stood up, "You go wait for me, I'll put this up."

Waluigi kissed me after he stood up, I watched him walk up the stairs with a smile.

Some days, I think he's too sweet for his own good.