I wrote this as a response to Seylin's challenge on livejournal, the link to which can be found here - http / community . livejournal . com /tin and straw /52203 . html # cutid1 I will be forever grateful to Kytten, who was kind enough to suffer through numerous drafts with me as a beta. You're amazing, Kytten! Since there are more prompts, I may or may not try another story. It depends on my mood, which is always influenced by reviews... hint hint
Sipping Coffee
Just before dawn, Wyatt Cain rouses himself and carefully untangles both he and his lover from the mess of blankets. Glitch always takes a moment to remember where he is when he wakes, and finding himself trapped in a cocoon of sheets has sent him more than once into fits of terror that left them both shaking afterwards. So Wyatt settles them carefully every morning, making sure the blankets are straightened. It takes quite awhile, longer still to keep from waking the sleeping man next to him. But Wyatt does it as diligently as he does everything and more because this he does lovingly. By the time he's done, he can sometimes see the pink-orange glow of the first sun through their draperies. Wyatt kisses his lover's forehead to keep away the bad thoughts, and goes back to sleep.
Sometimes Cain doesn't wake up early enough and Glitch panics in his tangle of sheets and broken memories.
As the first beam of light sprawls through the gap in the curtains, Glitch stretches and climbs from the bed. He rarely remembers where he is, or that he doesn't still have a zipper embedded in his scalp. But then he looks over at Cain and the memories drift back to him. Smiling to himself, Glitch pulls the blankets up to Cain's chin and lets his fingers linger against the man's face a moment before standing. He dances over to the window like he dances through life, spinning and swaying until he tugs open the drapes and lets the soft light of the first sun filter through the gauzy curtains. It plays across Glitch's upturned face as he looks out at the world and feels as though he's living a wonderful dream. Waves of joy and contentment wrap sinuously through his mind, nudging Ambrose gently until the scientist sends his own waves of sleepy amusement and affection in return.
Sometimes Ambrose forgets that he's not still just a brain in a jar, captured and defiled, and he curls into himself, muttering equations and sequences.
Ambrose sends a feeling of warmth singing through them--their version of a hug. Glitch returns it eagerly, silly and enthusiastic, before retreating the back of their mind. In the forefront of his mind now, Ambrose looks out the window again with a sigh. He takes a moment to watch the mist dissipating over Finaqua before turning to pull the tasseled green rope that will ring the bell in the kitchens. While he waits, Ambrose prods the fire back to life against the morning chill. He fusses with the pot hanging above as he makes coffee, Glitch murmuring quiet nonsense in the back of his head as he works.
The coffee is made with the same careful consideration and measured ingredients as any of his experiments, and no one else knows exactly how it's done. He uses cinnamon sticks and unsweetened chocolate. The secret though is in the making of it, and how the coffee brews. They never use any sugar because Ambrose has ethmellitus--what DG calls "diabetes"--and Wyatt doesn't take sugar in his coffee.
Sitting on the floor near the window with his back to the wall, Ambrose watches the second sun creep up to join its twin. A moment passes before Glitch begins a story, one from so long ago neither of them quite remember where they heard it, and Ambrose sets to drawing. His hand skitters and glides across the paper, not really paying attention, images forming from the smudges and swirls. When the story ends they both look down at the picture. It is, of course, Wyatt Cain. He looks rather comical in his frilly bonnet, and they snicker helplessly at the drawing before vowing to never let Wyatt see it.
Sometimes Glitch doesn't hear Ambrose for far too long, or Ambrose doesn't hear Glitch, and they're both terrified that one day one of them will just… disappear.
Wyatt wakes up to the smell of strong coffee and summer breeze. The balcony doors are open, gentle zephyrs from the lake drifting through the room. Ambrose sits waiting for him in the inglenook. The food has arrived; freshly baked bread and an apple to share, with a bottle of fresh cream for the coffee. By now the fire has banked once more, the embers casting a cozy red glow, twin suns filling the room with warmth that reflects off the whole of Finaqua, turning sapphire to gold. Eventually, they'll get fully dressed and join their friends for a huge breakfast, but none of the others are awake this early.
Sometimes Cain finds people and emotions becoming too much, and he hides his uneasiness until he can sneak outside, gasping and shaking, wondering if he's not losing his mind.
This morning...
before the summer heat fully descends…
before the palace and town awakens…
before life once again takes more than they can give…
In this perfect morning, none of it matters because Cain smiles and says "Good morning, sweethearts" and Ambrose and Glitch grin widely at him and pour him a cup, and nothing can touch any them as they sit comfortably together, sipping coffee.