Jean yawned, winding himself deeper into the sheets. A cat that had adopted him a few weeks back sighed and grumbled, scootching closer into the curve of his back.
God, getting old sucked.
"Oy."
Dear god, not now, not today, not here. He groaned, scrunching down into the bed.
"Jean, playing dead will not prevent me from seeing you. Wake up, it's your birthday."
Like he didn't know that. "Myah, go 'way."
He just knew Ed was rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Jean! Wake up, moron. It's your thirty-second birthday, and I want to celebrate!"
He lifted his sleep-tousled head. "Look, mush-for-brains, you weren't nearly this cheerful on your twentieth birthday, so I advise you to shove it. Either that or go back to bed."
"You're no fun."
"I'll cut off that rattail that you like calling a braid if you don't bloody well shut up!"
"You're grumpy without your coffee." Ed flicked his waist-length plait over his shoulder vainly. "Lucky for you I made some."
"Ed, what part of 'sod off' don't you understand?"
"The part that involves me leaving the room while you're still grumpy. Why are you so ticked about your birthday, anyway?"
"I'm getting OLD!"
Ed blinked. "That's a stupid reason."
"Just 'cause you're young and think you're immortal doesn't mean that I'm either of those."
"But, Jean, you're only thirty-three! You haven't even hit halfway through your life!"
"Says who?"
"Er..." Ed hit epiphany. Havoc could almost hear it. "Is this those 'military glums' that Fury was talking about?"
"My god, he can be taught." He wound deeper into the knot of sheets. "Now, do me a favor and go away."
"That was mean." Ed commented, putting the mug down. "Come on, you sleepy person!"
"Nnyergh, don't wanna..." The cat climbed sullenly over his shoulder, glared yellowly at Ed, then slid off the bed.
"Jean..."
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Crap ending, I know. I'm tired, and I'm swamped with crap to do. Again, it's a grace posting.