Morning, Sunshine

Description: Saloonatics AU. It's the morning after Prince Matthew was saved by Detective Edward Gold and Sheriff Thompson, and they awake to a very… surprising discovery. Cue Thompson being the embarrassed and shy one this go around, Matthew being extremely polysexual and flirty, and Edward wanting this to maybe work.

A/N: So I got back into Eddsworld after several years… the series finale made me cry, since Edd and his friends helped keep me going through junior high school. It's sad to see 'em go, but I'm just glad we got to see Edd's world spin to begin with. On another note, I'm in love with Saloonatics- the animation is adorable, the character designs are lovely, and the story is awesome. So here's me basically shipping the OT3 and being weird. Sorry. Please R&R (Read and Review)!

"Ugh… my achin' head…" Sheriff Thompson groans, waking up with a raging headache. "What happened last night? Feels like a herd 'a bull done 'n stampeded over my head..."

"It was a dream come true," An unknown voice suddenly whispers into Thompson's ear, making the cowboy go stiff as a board. "You were a real time cowboy last night, chap."

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF-" Thompson shouts as he snaps to full alertness, trying as hard as physically possible to crawl away from the unknown voice in his- wait, this isn't his bed!

"Shh!" Another, slightly more familiar voice, warns. "It's still early,Thompson. We wouldn't want to make the hotel owners angry, now would we?"

Thompson keeps his head and face buried in the blankets, willing himself to wake up from this nightmare, but it's no use. He's never been in a situation like this, especially with other MEN- at least, they sound like men. Slowly, Thompson gathers his courage and peaks out from under the covers, his undamaged eye going wide as he recognizes the two strangers in the room with him. The first voice- the one on the bed with him- is Prince Matthew, the member of British royalty he and that Edward fella rescued yesterday. The other guy, standing across the room while fixing up what smells like breakfast on the room's personal stove, is Edward Gold, the same Edward Gold that helped pull off that rescue yesterday.

Thompson gulps, very carefully unveiling himself from the blankets- at least he unveils his head. As soon as his face is within sight, Matthew kisses him on the cheek, making Thompson go beet red. "Morning, sunshine." He whispers, a slight hint of arousal in his voice. It makes Thompson shiver.

"W-What in the name 'a Glory happened l-last night?" Thompson doesn't mean to let his voice shake the way it does, but damn, it's hard to keep a straight face when he's naked in some stranger's- wait, he's NAKED!? "And where in Jesus' name are my clothes? And my hat!?"

"You were pretty eager to get them off last night," Matthew explains, grinning wolfishly at the sheriff. "You're very flirty when you're drunk, Mister Sheriff."

"I told you, Matthew, his name is Thompson," Edward says from the stove. "There's no need to call him 'Mister Sheriff'... besides, you were pretty drunk last night too, if I remember correctly."

Matthew isn't even bashful about it. "Guilty as charged!" He chirps, before turning his attention back to Thompson, who's been trying to subtly hide back under the covers. "Hey! Where are you going, silly?" Matthew asks, giggling as he pulls the blankets down enough to see Thompson's face again, the sheriff still blushing. "I won't bite… unless you want me to."

"Matthew," Edward gives the prince a stern look, making him seem more mature and orderly than the city detective that Thompson met yesterday morning. "Let him wake up a little. He obviously doesn't remember what happened last night," He sets the bacon he had previously been frying aside, and walks over to the bed, sitting down between Matthew and Thompson, much to Matthew's disappointment. "Thompson, do you remember anything from yesterday? You were pretty drunk last night…"

"Er, well, I reckon I 'member ya comin' inta town 'n havin' me teach ya how ta shoot. Ya got hooked on that- what was it now?- Coo-La? 'Member it bein' pretty strange, seein' ya runnin' 'round like a wild horse. We saved this princely type, didn't we?" Thompson barely even looks at Matthew when he mentions him, not wanting to have the royal man start hitting on him again. "Yeah, I remember all that nonsense… but not much else." He sort of remembers them visiting a bar after their victory, but he doesn't mention that part

"All of that happened, yes, but you're missing the… 'After Party'," Edward says it with a certain level of sarcasm, like it wasn't really much of a party. "I tell ya, Thompson, you Westerners definitely party much differently than we do in England. You got quite drunk during the affair, and, well, so did I and Prince Matthew here… I'm pretty sure it was Matthew who ordered the hotel room."

"Don't forget the part where I rode this cowboy like a horse," Matthew adds, grinning from ear to ear at Thompson. "You make the cutest noises when you're aroused, you know." He says this with a sultry wink, looking all too pleased with himself.

"In all my days…" Thompson doesn't bother to elaborate, too shell-shocked and embarrassed to continue. Once again, he hides under the covers, and again, Matthew pulls him out, but this time he pulls Thompson into his lap to be cuddled.

This only embarrasses Thompson more. He's never liked that he's short; Hell, it's almost cost him his job a couple of times. But after you save the town from bandits and criminals several times in a row… well, folks learn to let certain things go. However, when the occasional wanderer or stranger rolls into town, Thompson is reminded by their laughs, giggles, and insults that he is, unfortunately, very short at 4"11. At least Edward hadn't said anything about it when he'd rolled in, but then again, he's not exactly 'Mister Tall and Mighty' now that Thompson thinks about it, his eye trained on the young man in question. Looking at him more carefully, Thompson can tell that he can't possibly be more than 5"4 or 5"5, making him likely to be teased for his height as well. And then there's the prince…

Now, Thompson has seen a lot of tall folk ride through this town; it's famous both for its extremely high crime rates and great tasting liquor of all types. He's seen 'em all; short folk, tall folk, black folk, Mexican folk, white folk. Hell, he one time saw a cat riding a donkey through the town (He had also been drunk at the time, but he knows what he saw, dammit)! But back to mister princely. Prince Matthew is well above average, looking to be around 5"11 to 6 foot solid. It's more than a little intimidating for Thompson. Sure, it makes aiming for the crotch a little easier if he needs to, but it also makes him the perfect punting size for a man as big as Matthew here. Suddenly, Thompson gets knocked out of his thoughts by Matthew running his fingers neatly through his hair, making him go terrifyingly still.

"You have the messiest hair I've ever seen, Tom-Tom!" Matthew comments, having, apparently, decided at some point during Edward's explanation or during Thompson's internal monologue that 'Tom-Tom' is an appropriate nickname. "Have you ever seen a mirror, chap? By the Queen, mother would fall ill if she saw such messy hair!"

"Cut 'at out!" Thompson shouts, struggling in Matthew's hold. Wisely, he lets go of the younger man, letting him growl and squirm all he pleases. "My hair's fine, thank ya much! Now, where the Hell is my hat!?"

"Somewhere over there, probably," Edward suggests, motioning towards a large, dirty pile of clothes in the corner. They're soaking wet, and when Edward sees this, he visibly winces. "Oh… right… Thompson, I don't know how strong your whiskeys are around here, but it sure caused you to get into trouble. I and Matthew had to drag you out of the town waterhole."

Thompson groans at the news. Of course he would do that while under the influence. "It's not all bad, though!" Edward promises, smiling warmly at the cowboy. "I'll get them washed and dried off by the afternoon."

This makes Thompson pause in confusion, raising an eyebrow at Edward. "Wait... aren't you folks up 'n leavin' soon? I mean, ain't the prince's folks lookin' 'for 'im?"

"Oh, I already sent a telegram their way!" Matthew explains, looking nonchalant about the whole situation. "I must tell you, I quite like it here. Despite the danger, I find it quite… riveting. Besides, I can't leave now that I have two beautiful men in my bed!"

"Ya mean… ya ain't kickin' me out? This wasn't a mistake?" Thompson isn't sure why he was worried he'd be kicked out to begin with. Does he REALLY like being with these city folk THAT much?

"A mistake? Are you crazy?" Edward asks, looking honest to goodness surprised. His face softens, and it makes Thompson's chest heat up. "Last night was great. Personally, I'd like to have a night with you two that I can remember rather than vaguely feel it in my new limp…"

"Yeah! This can't just be some one-night-stand," Matthew adds, pulling Thompson into his lap again. This time, Thompson doesn't freeze up, though he still appears unsure. "You're both very interesting men… I have a feeling that sticking with you two will result in some rather extraordinary adventures!"

"We do tend to get into trouble," Edward agrees, and he looks thoughtfully at a bottle of Cola next to the stove, appearing hopeful with the drink's presence. "But with the three of us working together, I bet we could clean up the whole West!"

"Do ya two… really mean that?" Thompson questions, looking amazed. When they both nod, he smirks a little. "Well then… I guess we better teach ya ta shoot, Princely. Ya ain't gonna last one second 'round 'ere if ya can't even use a gun right."

"Aw, but why? I have you two to protect me! I don't need to learn to use a gun. Those are for soldiers, cowboys, and neanderthals!" Matthew complains, looking disappointed. He obviously just wants to try for more sex in the near future; not any real training.

"Well, now you're going to be a cowboy, right? Besides, it's not that hard. I can help you learn, too!" Edward promises, looking so happy that this actually looks like it can work out.

"You? Teaching Princely here how ta shoot? Ha! The only reason ya can even aim is 'cus of that Coo-La!" Thompson promises, laughing when Edward glares at him with a bright red blush covering his cheeks. "What's the face for, city boy? It's true as the sun in da sky!"

And they keep arguing throughout the morning, yet their words are not hateful. Childish, yes, and teasing, but not hateful. Little do they know, in a hundred or so years, another trio much like them will have a similar dynamic. But for now, what they've got is fine. It can work.

A/N: And that's a wrap! So, what do ya think? Tell me in the comments/reviews! Should I make more Eddsworld fic? Do you wanna see more of the Saloonatics trio specifically? Tell me what ya think!

~CabooseHeart.