This is so not where I thought I'd go with this...
Overcast skies never actually meant rain and that was actually sort of irritating. Chris wasn't sure why, except maybe because he really didn't have the energy to wash his car on a Sunday. It didn't matter, things would probably clear up as the day went on, Chris mused as he started sorting through cabinets for something resembling breakfast food. He'd finished the PopTarts which left him with his choice of CoCoa Puffs, Count Chocula, Frosted Flakes (and he still had no idea how in hell those had ended up in his kitchen), or actually cooking. A quick glance into the fridge to check for milk and it was Count Chocula all the way.
Even half blurry-eyed and waiting on the coffee to finish dripping, it didn't take long for Chris to settle down at his kitchen table with the paper opened to the crossword and a bowl of cereal resting next to it. He'd probably have little drops of chocolate milk covering the page before he was finished, but eh. His tendency toward mess wasn't exactly some sort of surprise to anyone who'd been around for more than a minute.
He was completely involved in the dilemma that was 26 Down (there was apparently an E in the third box which couldn't be right at all, but he was sure the crossing clue was right) and a little under halfway through his bowl of morning sugary goodness and the first cup of coffee when he was visciously attacked. That is, if by viscious you meant a quick poke. Either way, it was enough to startle him into dropping his spoon into the bowl, spraying chocolate-flavored milk on the table top.
Chris was a half-second away from glaring when he felt stubble followed by lips against his neck. Before he could get too comfortable with it, however, sharp teeth swiftly caught his skin and there was the unmistakable scrape of ceramic against polished wood. Whipping around in his chair, Chris sent a glare at Zach...or, he tried to. It was a bit difficult to actually glare at the older man when his hair was flat on one side and there were faint pillow marks on his face. Oh, the fact that he was in nothing but boxers had little to nothing to do with it, if only because Chris forced his eyes to stick to Zach's face to avoid getting distracted.
"What the fuck, Zach? I'm trying to eat my cereal!"
Zach quirked and eyebrow, not bothering to turn his away from the bowl he was glaring into. "This puffed sugar and chocolate flavored abomination with tiny, freeze-dried marshmallow bits has absolutely no nutritional value. You know that, right?"
"Thank you oh wise and great Quinto. Can I have my fucking cereal back now?" Okay, maybe that was a tad petulant, but it couldn't be helped when the best part of the day was being insulted.
"No," Zach used a free hand to ruffle his own hair and seemed to reconsider for a moment. Attempting to take advantage of the apparent distraction, Chris tried to make a sneak attack and recover the bowl. Zach turned at the last moment. "I'm dumping this. Just looking at it makes me sick. Do you see the milk?"
"Yes. It's become chocolate milk. Don't even pretend you don't have a weakness for it, I've been grocery shopping with you."
"This isn't chocolate, Christopher." And there was the cereal being poured down the drain while Chris was trying to turn in his seat and watch Zach wander across the room. "It's, like, gray or something. I don't know; I don't care; it's gross. I'm not letting you eat cereal for breakfast."
It was too early in the morning to be mourning the loss of perfectly acceptable dessert-slash-breakfast meals. Regardless, Chris was still left narrowing his eyes and finishing his cooled coffee in a few gulps.
"You're making this up to me."
Quiet, slightly sleep roughened chuckles bounced around the room. "Yeah? Why's that?"
Insert Clever Title Here 1/2
Overcast skies never actually meant rain and that was actually sort of irritating. Chris wasn't sure why, except maybe because he really didn't have the energy to wash his car on a Sunday. It didn't matter, things would probably clear up as the day went on, Chris mused as he started sorting through cabinets for something resembling breakfast food. He'd finished the PopTarts which left him with his choice of CoCoa Puffs, Count Chocula, Frosted Flakes (and he still had no idea how in hell those had ended up in his kitchen), or actually cooking. A quick glance into the fridge to check for milk and it was Count Chocula all the way.
Even half blurry-eyed and waiting on the coffee to finish dripping, it didn't take long for Chris to settle down at his kitchen table with the paper opened to the crossword and a bowl of cereal resting next to it. He'd probably have little drops of chocolate milk covering the page before he was finished, but eh. His tendency toward mess wasn't exactly some sort of surprise to anyone who'd been around for more than a minute.
He was completely involved in the dilemma that was 26 Down (there was apparently an E in the third box which couldn't be right at all, but he was sure the crossing clue was right) and a little under halfway through his bowl of morning sugary goodness and the first cup of coffee when he was visciously attacked. That is, if by viscious you meant a quick poke. Either way, it was enough to startle him into dropping his spoon into the bowl, spraying chocolate-flavored milk on the table top.
Chris was a half-second away from glaring when he felt stubble followed by lips against his neck. Before he could get too comfortable with it, however, sharp teeth swiftly caught his skin and there was the unmistakable scrape of ceramic against polished wood. Whipping around in his chair, Chris sent a glare at Zach...or, he tried to. It was a bit difficult to actually glare at the older man when his hair was flat on one side and there were faint pillow marks on his face. Oh, the fact that he was in nothing but boxers had little to nothing to do with it, if only because Chris forced his eyes to stick to Zach's face to avoid getting distracted.
"What the fuck, Zach? I'm trying to eat my cereal!"
Zach quirked and eyebrow, not bothering to turn his away from the bowl he was glaring into. "This puffed sugar and chocolate flavored abomination with tiny, freeze-dried marshmallow bits has absolutely no nutritional value. You know that, right?"
"Thank you oh wise and great Quinto. Can I have my fucking cereal back now?" Okay, maybe that was a tad petulant, but it couldn't be helped when the best part of the day was being insulted.
"No," Zach used a free hand to ruffle his own hair and seemed to reconsider for a moment. Attempting to take advantage of the apparent distraction, Chris tried to make a sneak attack and recover the bowl. Zach turned at the last moment. "I'm dumping this. Just looking at it makes me sick. Do you see the milk?"
"Yes. It's become chocolate milk. Don't even pretend you don't have a weakness for it, I've been grocery shopping with you."
"This isn't chocolate, Christopher." And there was the cereal being poured down the drain while Chris was trying to turn in his seat and watch Zach wander across the room. "It's, like, gray or something. I don't know; I don't care; it's gross. I'm not letting you eat cereal for breakfast."
It was too early in the morning to be mourning the loss of perfectly acceptable dessert-slash-breakfast meals. Regardless, Chris was still left narrowing his eyes and finishing his cooled coffee in a few gulps.
"You're making this up to me."
Quiet, slightly sleep roughened chuckles bounced around the room. "Yeah? Why's that?"