Something About Red | ThirdUnion

POUNDING HEADACHE!

That was the first thing Reich became aware of upon waking up. He opened his eyes drearily, scanning the room before yawning and stretching. Something bothered him, so he sat up and looked around again.

Where the fuck am I?

Just as he recognized it as Soviet's room, that very man strode in through the open door. He looked proud of something, and that irked Reich.

Soviet carried a platter with a steaming cup of coffee and a plate of pancakes, which Reich accepted wearily. His eyes darted all around the room again, then back down to the food, panic starting to set in.

"Why am I here?" he asked in a whisper.

Soviet chuckled, "You had too much to drink last night, so I brought you to my place. Have some coffee, it'll help."

Reich began to tremble, not quite feeling safe here. He lifted the coffee cup and sniffed it, watching Soviet's face for any reaction. Not seeing any, he relaxed a bit and sipped the hot liquid. It warmed him and made him feel a little better, but he still had an awful sinking feeling.

"What happened last night?" Reich asked, hiding his frown behind the mug.

"We went to a bar after work, you got way too fucking drunk, then I drove you back here and let you sleep," Soviet said, sitting at the end of the bed.

He gestured toward the pancakes, but Reich wasn't sure he'd be able to keep any food down with how his stomach fluttered. He sipped the coffee again, deciding that it was a decent flavor and maybe things would be okay. Maybe.

I failed to stab this bastard once again, what's been wrong with me??

Soviet just stared at him for a while, maintaining that proud smirk that made Reich really uncomfortable. He racked his brain for one clear memory, c'mon, just one! OH! He remembered seeing Soviet's kids, they were interesting...

Boyfriend.

Reich paled, gritting his teeth as he remembered it. That asshole had called him his boyfriend! He cringed, shooting a death glare at Soviet. Soviet looked a little worried, then leaned forward, making Reich lean back instinctively.

"What's wrong?" Soviet asked, still smirking.

I'm going to cut that smile right off his fat face!!

Reich mentally yelled. He fumed, then tried to calm himself by sipping coffee. Once he was done, he growled.

"You told your kids we're dating... I barely know you, freak!" he said, grabbing a decorative pillow and tossing it at Soviet.

The pillow fwapped onto his chest and merely bounced off harmlessly, landing on the carpet to be forgotten. Soviet chuckled and Reich suddenly felt the urge to throw the cup as well.

"Was that not a date?" Soviet asked, quirking a brow.

Reich fumed, "No, it wasn't!"

"Yes, it was," Soviet said, "and today we can have another one. If you don't want those pancakes, we can go out for breakfast."

Reich gritted his teeth, then took a bigger swallow of his coffee. It burned his throat, but that only served as a distraction from his growing anger. The thing preventing him from throwing the cup was that he didn't want to have to kill those kids if they heard any screaming.

"Even if it were a date, that wouldn't mean we're dating," Reich grumbled.

...

"Why are you smirking!?" Reich snapped, no longer able to stand that cocky grin.