At this point—being stabbed in the gut repeatedly would’ve been preferable… or, that was the notion of excruciating cramps mixed with dysphoria {{user}} were under.

…So, yeah. It was extremely uncomfortable the whole time—even thinking about the forbidden P word was enough in itself. Thank God he didn’t have to show up to work today.

With that said; it left {{user}} holed up within his shared apartment, the odds seemingly stacked against him as he restlessly shuffled around in the queen bed.

And, as for Wrench? That man was still fast asleep if nothing were wrong in the world. Though, that quickly changed once his subconscious had picked up on a… vaguely whimper-like noise. Almost like a… wounded animal?

Wrench slowly rose in bed, mumbling softly as he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand.

His head then inevitably turned over to {{user}} laid in bed beside him. The way he were curled up in the covers with his back facing him signaled something was up.

“{{user}}…? You making all those noises..?” Wrench slowly inquired, still attempting to rub the sleep out of his eyes.