Chapter Text
At nine in the morning on the dot, Faraday was entering the bedroom with two mugs of coffee. Careful to not slosh the milky-brown contents as he made his way to the bed, he took a seat on the edge where a lump laid.
“Dima, it’s to take your medication.” He reached over to put his mug on the nightstand, then opened the draw.
A hum came from the lump, wiggling until finally the blankets fell away, revealing Dima with a gentle smile. Faraday swore the man never woke up looking terrible like himself: his Gray hair tousled loosely around his ears, eyes shining like the morning mist before the sun completely rose, always with those soft, warm, smiles. Without hesitation, Faraday lifted the mug in hand away to lean in and press a chaste kiss over those thin lips. When they parted, Dima eased himself up to sit; We need to go shopping for new pajamas, Faraday thought, eying the loose crew-neck of Dima’s black shirt, finding his eyes looking over revealed collar bones.
“Good morning.” He took the coffee, pulling the rim to his mouth for a sip. “You let me sleep in.”
“You were up late reviewing my work, you needed it.” The glare on the computer couldn’t have been good for the older man’s gray eyes — the thought made Faraday’s mind fade out and stomach hollow at the thought.
Sleep-warm fingers caressed his cheek, bringing all his attention to Dima and the squint in his eyes. “Dearest Faraday, you are very kind, but I’m not as frail as I look.” He took another drink of his coffee, lips tightening before settling back.
“No, but I know I would have liked to sleep in. When was the last time you even slept past eight?”
Dima’s eyes looked into his mug, both hands curling around it now. “I can’t say, there was always something to be done, people to avoid.”
Hurt orphans who turned on one another, cruel homes, police to run from , Faraday knew so much about his friend, never the details, but the parts that got the point across. “Well, now you’re here with me, and I say you should get all the sleep you want.”
“That will be hard since at some point in age you wake up with the sun naturally.”
“Hm, I always thought the opposite.”
“Could be I’m just used to early rises. Maybe I just never had a good bed or partner to keep me in it.” Now there were teeth in a grin that had Faraday’s ears turning red.
Clearing his throat, he looked at the clear, yellow, container in his hands. Seven small boxes connected and abbreviations for each day printed on top. Two little pills and a single big one laid inside each, but he knew only one was needed for the morning.
“Oh, time for the horse pill.” Dima’s face fell into a frown.
“None of that, if I have to take one, you do too.”
“Yes, but yours doesn’t upset your stomach.”
Popping the Wednesday lid up and grabbing the pill almost as long as half a thumb, Faraday held it out. “It does if I don’t eat anything with it. They are different medications, but they’re the same size.”
Faraday’s was for his brain, while Dima’s was for his body. The effects were of course going to be different. He may be able to avoid the unsavory ones, but Dima could not — he had tried to eat with it, drink tea to settle his stomach, yet he found no escape. It was only time that helped, settling the pill within hours.
In one swoop back of his head to help the medicine and coffee go down easier, Dima’s face scrunched up. He shut his eyes tight and stuck out his tongue. “Eugh. Vile little thing,” Another swig.
Faraday chuckled and shoved the container back in the draw.
“Ah, dearest, I know you went through all this trouble for making me coffee.”
Stilling, he set his eyes on the other man — a smile slowly spreading on his own face. “Too much milk?”
“A smidgen.”
Faraday pulled the container back out and stood. “I’ll put these in your tote.”