IC contact for wethelost

[devoutish]

Solomons & Melborn
1108 Sweet Cream Street

[Feel free to use this space for letter/package deliveries as well as visits/knocks on the front door!]

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[devoutish]

[Here's the thing about getting drunk when you're creeping up on fifty: hangovers are a bitch. Alfie sleeps decently, but he wakes with a pounding headache, the kind that has him feeling like he doesn't want to move for, oh, a good five days. Royce is still lying on him, though, so that's nice. Somewhere along the line, Alfie's arms have fallen off of his back, so he fixes that by wrapping them around him again.]

And to think just hours ago I was thinking about how we should drink more often.

[He mutters, mostly to himself.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce groans, and wriggles until the sun is nowhere near his eyes or face. This means he has to move in order to bury himself himself under Alfie, but it's worth it.

And then he mumbles something that sounds like a garbled shhhut up. No. No talking, no waking up. Does not want to deal with headache, thanks. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie grins, rolling onto his stomach when Royce moves off of him so that he can wrap his arms around him again.]

We can stay here all day.

[bywolves]

Mmf. [ Royce huffs. He settles into Alfie's grip. ]

This is your fault. [ He says grumpily, though it's very much not serious. ]

[devoutish]

Yes, it is. But it was one of the better nights we've had in a while, wasn't it?

[bywolves]

Yeah. [ Less grumpy: ] That's your fault too.

[devoutish]

Mm. When we would get drunk in Norfinbury, it was always because we were upset.

[He wanted to have the opposite experience with Royce.]

[bywolves]

Mostly wasn't, last night. [ Royce says, nosing against Alfie's collarbone. ]

We're safe here. [ A long pause, then: ] I do want coffee, though.

[devoutish]

What, now?

[bywolves]

What? [ He squints up at him. ] I want coffee. Before we stay the whole day here.

[ Come on, keep up with Royce's disjointed headache brain train of thought. ]

[devoutish]

But then we'll have to move, Royce.

[The horror.]

[bywolves]

Only briefly. [ Royce huffs, but he doesn't move. ]

[devoutish]

Horrible.

[And neither does Alfie. He won't actually stop Royce if he decides to get up, though.]

But if you do go for it, I hope you'll bring me some.

[bywolves]

No. You only get some if you come with me. [ Grumble, grumble. ]

[devoutish]

Royce Melborn, surely you aren't capable of such cruelty.

[bywolves]

Clearly you haven't met me.

[devoutish]

Surely some things are too cruel for even you, eh?

[bywolves]

[ Royce sighs HEAVILY and over the top. Slowly, he starts to wriggle out from under Alfie. ]

You're going to have to find out.

[devoutish]

[Blehhhhh. Alfie makes obligatory grabby hands for him, but isn't actually trying to stop him.]

[bywolves]

I'll be back. [ Royce hums, pulling on his cloak. He's basically just going to hide under it. ]

[devoutish]

Better bring me one.

[Alfie mutters, before disappearing under the sheets.]

[bywolves]

[ Very maturely, Royce blows a raspberry in Alfie's direction, and then heads off down to the coffee shop. It takes maybe half an hour because he's going very slowly, but when he returns? He's got two cups of coffee. One the way Alfie likes it, and the other for Royce, extra bitter.

He sets the cup that belongs to Alfie on the endtable, shooing Lady away from it. She mrrowls in annoyance - look, she was just curious! - and hops over to stand on Alfie's back, kneading at him. ]

[devoutish]

Oof.

[It doesn't actually hurt, he's just being dramatic. The smell of the coffee rouses him, though, and he unearths himself, bleary-eyed and hair sticking up in every direction.]

What did you sing to get this?

[bywolves]

[ Royce tries very hard not to grin. He fails. Hair sticking up everywhere Alfie is the best Alfie.

As he's sitting down and passing over the coffee, he hums in a sing-songy tone, low and slightly gritty from the hangover: ]

Ashira l'adonai, ki gaoj ga-ah, mi chamocha baelim adonai.

[ He has the songs from Prince of Egypt stuck in his head a lot. ]

[devoutish]

[Royce, he could kiss you. In fact--]

C'mere.

[He sets his coffee aside so that he can tug Royce to him and give him a peck on the cheek.]