049: coffee
title: coffee
fandom: weiss kreuz
characters/pairing: schuldig/ran
word count: 266
notes: done to slash_me_twice's table found here, prompt 049: coffee.
Fuck, but he needed coffee.
Schuldig stumbled out of the empty bed, half-tripping over the sheets he was tangled in. His eyes didn’t want to open up and they felt all gross and crusty; he had to fumble through the early morning light to get to the bathroom. He really needed to take a whiz, so he relieved himself in the toilet, let himself air dry while he stood in a stupor, and then promptly forgot to flush.
Next was brushing his teeth. He peered at his sorry face in the mirror. His orange hair was matted on one side and stuck up in the other. There was a red imprint on his cheek from sleeping on his hand.
Grunting, he squirted the toothpaste onto his brush and began working the morning breath away. It burned pleasantly. Then he realized he’d have to brush again after drinking coffee and wondered what the hell he was doing. He hated mornings.
He spat out the remains of the paste and washed his mouth out, tried to exit the bathroom and failed because he forgot he had closed the door, then tried again and succeeded.
Schuldig stomped downstairs still dressed in only his boxers. Briskly he entered the kitchen and made a beeline to the coffee pot, which was already brewing.
“Good morning,” Ran said plainly, sitting at the table with the newspaper. “I see you’re chipper as usual.”
Schuldig responded with something that sounded suspiciously like, “Fuck you.”
“Mmm,” Ran hummed, flipping a page. His reading glasses were perched on his nose. “Maybe later.”
Schuldig cheered up.
fandom: weiss kreuz
characters/pairing: schuldig/ran
word count: 266
notes: done to slash_me_twice's table found here, prompt 049: coffee.
Fuck, but he needed coffee.
Schuldig stumbled out of the empty bed, half-tripping over the sheets he was tangled in. His eyes didn’t want to open up and they felt all gross and crusty; he had to fumble through the early morning light to get to the bathroom. He really needed to take a whiz, so he relieved himself in the toilet, let himself air dry while he stood in a stupor, and then promptly forgot to flush.
Next was brushing his teeth. He peered at his sorry face in the mirror. His orange hair was matted on one side and stuck up in the other. There was a red imprint on his cheek from sleeping on his hand.
Grunting, he squirted the toothpaste onto his brush and began working the morning breath away. It burned pleasantly. Then he realized he’d have to brush again after drinking coffee and wondered what the hell he was doing. He hated mornings.
He spat out the remains of the paste and washed his mouth out, tried to exit the bathroom and failed because he forgot he had closed the door, then tried again and succeeded.
Schuldig stomped downstairs still dressed in only his boxers. Briskly he entered the kitchen and made a beeline to the coffee pot, which was already brewing.
“Good morning,” Ran said plainly, sitting at the table with the newspaper. “I see you’re chipper as usual.”
Schuldig responded with something that sounded suspiciously like, “Fuck you.”
“Mmm,” Ran hummed, flipping a page. His reading glasses were perched on his nose. “Maybe later.”
Schuldig cheered up.