Friendship Distilled: Hangovers and Homicide
Author: Shadowspun
Title: Hangovers and Homicide
Rating: G
Pairing: Merlin/Gwaine
Characters: Merlin, Gwaine
Summary: Merlin overindulged a bit on New Year's Eve. Gwaine is making too much noise.
Warning: none
Word Count: 228
Prompt: 440, Hangover
Author's Note: Just pure fluff to start off the new year.
Murder was the first thing that passed through Merlin’s mind when he fought his way to consciousness. Whether it was the throbbing in his head that was murdering him or knowing he was going to be the one who finally murdered Gwaine for his quiet humming, he couldn’t say for certain, but he leaned toward the latter.
“Please, stop,” he whispered.
“Aw, sweetheart, does your head hurt?” Gwaine’s amused voice, which usually made him want to kiss the man, led to more homicidal thoughts. Gwaine’s hand smoothed through Merlin’s hair, “I have some water for you, and some medicine. Take them and then get up for breakfast. It’ll be ready in about forty-five minutes. You’ll even have time for a shower.”
And just like that, Merlin’s homicidal impulses fell away. Yes, Gwaine was one of the loudest, most cheerfully obnoxious people Merlin knew. Then he turned around and became the sweetest man who willingly cooked breakfast for Merlin so he could deal with his New Year’s hangover.
Merlin reached up as quickly as he dared and captured the hand that was still stroking his hair. He squeezed it gently and smiled. “Thanks, Gwaine.”
“No problem, sweetheart.” Merlin felt Gwaine’s lips press lightly on his cheek before the bed shifted and Gwaine got out of bed, letting his hand slip from Merlin’s.
Gwaine’s murder could wait for another day.
Title: Hangovers and Homicide
Rating: G
Pairing: Merlin/Gwaine
Characters: Merlin, Gwaine
Summary: Merlin overindulged a bit on New Year's Eve. Gwaine is making too much noise.
Warning: none
Word Count: 228
Prompt: 440, Hangover
Author's Note: Just pure fluff to start off the new year.
Murder was the first thing that passed through Merlin’s mind when he fought his way to consciousness. Whether it was the throbbing in his head that was murdering him or knowing he was going to be the one who finally murdered Gwaine for his quiet humming, he couldn’t say for certain, but he leaned toward the latter.
“Please, stop,” he whispered.
“Aw, sweetheart, does your head hurt?” Gwaine’s amused voice, which usually made him want to kiss the man, led to more homicidal thoughts. Gwaine’s hand smoothed through Merlin’s hair, “I have some water for you, and some medicine. Take them and then get up for breakfast. It’ll be ready in about forty-five minutes. You’ll even have time for a shower.”
And just like that, Merlin’s homicidal impulses fell away. Yes, Gwaine was one of the loudest, most cheerfully obnoxious people Merlin knew. Then he turned around and became the sweetest man who willingly cooked breakfast for Merlin so he could deal with his New Year’s hangover.
Merlin reached up as quickly as he dared and captured the hand that was still stroking his hair. He squeezed it gently and smiled. “Thanks, Gwaine.”
“No problem, sweetheart.” Merlin felt Gwaine’s lips press lightly on his cheek before the bed shifted and Gwaine got out of bed, letting his hand slip from Merlin’s.
Gwaine’s murder could wait for another day.