[Fic] Erichs Krönung
Finally getting up the guts to de-lurk and post in honor of May Day. :)
Title: Erichs Krönung.
Author/Artist: Paperclip_mind
Rating: T
Warnings: Language
Summary: Routines make it hard to be miserable. But so do hangovers.
What is this?” Gilbert picks his head up out of his arms and looks at Ivan standing there in front of his kitchen cabinets in a sweater and his underwear. And black socks. He might have laughed at the socks but… With a groan he presses his cheek to the cheap wood of his table.
“It’s coffee,” he grunts in to the crook of his elbow.
“Yes I know that. But what is it doing here?” He can hear the disapproving stitch in Ivan’s brow. He can see the way his eyes sweep over the offending tin with its little label and its neatly printed text that reads Jacob’s Krönung. Even though all he can really see is the sleeve of his own wrinkled shirt.
“Jesus, Ivan… It’s left over from the Christmas package Ludwig sent me.” He can still remember the note that had been tucked in to neatly wrapped package behind the brown paper and the white string. He’d almost been able to feel the hesitation in the orderly pen strokes. It had said something about how his brother’s neighbor was sending one to his cousin that had nylons in it. There’d been a shoddy attempt at humor with another line about how he doubted Gilbert had a use for tights. And he’d finished all up with ‘…so I thought cigarettes would be better. I’m not sure if you still smoke but they’re French…’ If he remembers right, and Gilbert wants to think he does, he smoked through the box in two days. And burned the note. “What are you going to do? Arrest me for picking up and opening my mail? Tear the inspectors who let in through a new one if it offends you so fucking much.” Ivan lets out a hum and there’s a soft clink as he slides the tin back in to the cabinet.
Gilbert closes his eyes. The cold floor under his bare feet sends goose bumps up his ankles. His hangover pounds behind his eyelids and makes them flutter. He knows Ivan won’t brew the western coffee even though it’s a clear cut fact that it just tastes fucking better. It would do them both a favor since the other will no doubt pour himself a mug as well. But Ivan is too prideful. They’re both too prideful. If Ivan had peeled the lid off he would have seen he hasn’t brewed any of it either.
“You’re not trying for the golden house number I see,” Ivan notes with a slow, early morning smile. He shuffles through plates, through glasses. Gilbert scoffs and forces his head up.
“Naw. Maybe I’ll meet a nice girl, marry her and she can worry about that bullshit.” He earns a laugh.
“Of course you will.”
“Mh.”
“Where’s your coffee press?”
“Christ- Braginski- It’s somewhere, alright? Look for it. You said you were going to make me coffee. Not interrogate me.” The kitchen becomes the sound water makes when it hits the bottom of a pot. The clink of the pot meeting a burner. And the sound of socks shuffling against flooring underneath it all.
Sometimes he wants to be miserable. Sometimes he tells himself he’ll wake up on a morning just like this one and he’ll say ‘I’ll make my own fucking coffee’ instead of simply exhaling against his pillow. The Bulgarian wine they drink together is too sweet. It clogs ups his throat so all he does is smile crookedly when Ivan trills ‘Ost’ in his musical lilt, like a finch against his ear. It makes him dizzy enough so he only laughs skeptically when the other kisses his stomach.
The water hisses. The coffee grounds explode like a snow globe when Ivan pours it over them in the press. Gilbert wants to be miserable but he isn’t. This life too, like others he’s experienced, suits him.
When Ivan places a mug in front of him he doesn’t think about how he could be drinking better. He wraps his fingers around the ceramic and lets the warmth inch in to his bones.
“To overtaking without catching up?” The blond holds up his own drink in a light hearted toast as he slides in to the other empty chair. Gilbert stares down at the tabletop, the newspaper and the box of Cabinets there, before raising his mug.
“To overtaking without catching up.”
A/N:
God, it's been ages since I've gotten to sit down and write. And to toy around with these two in particular. This feels a little disjointed but at the same time I've been itching to get it out of my system...
Historical Snippets:
-Jacob's Krönung/Erichs Krönung: In the West Jacob's Krönung was a popular brand of coffee. Erichs Krönung was the nickname people in the East gave to the somewhat substandard blends available to them.
-Tights, coffee and sausages were all popular items to be included in the Christmas packages citizens in the West would send to relatives.
-The golden house number was an award given out to residents who took particular care of their house and decorated it on jubilation days of the state.
-'Cabinet' was the most commonly smoked brand of cigarette in the GDR.
-"Overtaking without catching up" became a famous quote from Walter Ulbricht on how the GDR would easily pass the FRG.
Aaaaand that's all I've got. :)