The Best Part of...

There was nothing on the kitchen table.

Roy stared at the blank space uncomprehendingly. For really, there should be something there. He had only placed his usual cup of morning coffee, the kind with the expensive beans he had to have imported, there mere seconds ago, after all. He had just turned to grab the day's paper and when he looked again, the precious fluid was gone.

It was quite the serious matter. Someone would have to pay.

The man's confusion was dispersed not a moment later as his lover came into view, yawning. The blond boy put a very familiar blue mug down on the counter as he did so and then slumped into a chair, looking bleary.

"That was my cup, you know," frowned Roy.

"Should have made mine first then," was the sleepily muttered response.

Really, Edward was just lucky Roy loved him. Really lucky.

Anyone else would have been toast by now.