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Sting smiled as Rogue all but face-planted in his lap with a dramatic groan. Waiting for his fiancé to settle before reaching out to tangle his fingers in dark hair, petting him softly, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice as he asked. “Are you still alive?”
“No…” Rogue moaned, burrowing into him. “I am regretting my life choices right now.”
“All of them?” Sting asked with a raised eyebrow, and Rogue lifted his head just enough to peer at him.
“Well….” His gaze drifted across to where Lector and Frosch were chasing one another across the floor, playfully wrestling on the rug, until the latter inevitably ran into the coffee table and skidded to a halt looking confused. “I don’t regret adopting the cats…” He continued thoughtfully, watching as Frosch looked around and then batted the table as though expecting it to disappear, before Lector pounced and the wrestling started all over. Squeaking when Sting’s fingers found his side, and more importantly the ticklish spot and he snorted, wiggling as he rolled onto his back in Sting’s lap so that he was looking up at him. “And…you, I suppose.”
“You suppose?” Blue eyes narrowed, and then the fingers were attacking him again, merciless as Sting unerringly found each and every one of his ticklish spots. Rogue was laughing and trying to escape, only to find Sting trapping him in place, a wicked expression crossing his face. “You suppose?” Rogue couldn’t speak he was laughing too much, and abandoning all attempts at speaking, he leant upwards, twitching as Sting’s assault continued but not stopping as he waited until he was able to steal a quick kiss. Smirking, as Sting’s fingers immediately faltered as he melted into the kiss.
“I suppose,” he confirmed with a chuckle, when he pulled back, Sting blinking at him and then scowling. But Rogue was well versed in his partner’s expressions by now, and he couldn’t miss the pink dusting his cheeks, or the smile that was tugging at the corner of his mouth, and he slumped back into Sting’s lap with a contented sigh that became a groan. His stomach, which had been aching already, was worse now after all the laughter, and he massaged it softly. “I do, however, regret letting you talk me into that eating contest...I am so stuffed right now it hurts.”
“I didn’t talk you into it,” Sting grumbled, even as he reached out to grab Rogue’s hand, gently helping with the massage. “In fact, I distinctly remember telling you that it was a lost cause the moment that Minerva signed up to join in. You’re the one that insisted we join, and you’re the idiot who refused to admit defeat.” Sting had given up as soon as he started to feel full, but then again unlike Rogue, he had seen Minerva in action before, and he had known from the start that there was no way they could beat her. Especially, as the food in question had been waffles, and Minerva had a sweet tooth a mile long, and a stomach that could cater to her appetite.
Rogue pouted but couldn’t refute what he was saying. Sting had warned him, but he had thought that he was exaggerating, after all, who would have thought that someone like Minerva could put away that many waffles in such a short space of time. “Where did she even put them all?”
“No idea,” Sting snorted. “Yukino and I have been asking ourselves that for years. I thought Laxus was going to put on a better showing, though.” It had been a rare night where they had all managed to get to together for drinks, and what had been meant to be a civilised meal before they’d stumbled across the competition. And he hadn’t expected Laxus to be drawn into it, or to be so enthusiastic about it but he had been more competitive than any of them at the start.
“Freed distracted him,” Rogue replied with a laugh, starting to relax a little, the ache in his stomach easing a little as Sting took over the ministrations. “From what I overheard, it was either the waffles or whatever ‘treat’ Freed had in mind, and we all saw which one won.”
“That is too much information,” Sting muttered, smirking as he made a note to text the pair later, remembering how quickly they had disappeared after Laxus had abandoned the contest. “Maybe, I should have tried that,” he added teasingly.
“You would have been rolling me home,” Rogue grumbled, leaning into him and closing his eyes. They remained like that for a few minutes, Rogue seeming to doze, as Sting continued to massage his stomach, and he was starting to think that his partner had fallen asleep properly when Rogue sighed. “It would have been nice to get the prize though…”
“Yeah…” Sting agreed. The prize – nearly two thousand pounds - had been the main reason they had joined in with the whole idea, because with their wedding lying ahead, they were trying to save every penny they could, and it would have been a nice addition to the pot. “But we’ll get there,” he added, abandoning the massage now that Rogue had all but melted into him, and instead twining their hands together, running a finger over their engagement ring. They were getting closer every month, but it still seemed miles away at times, and that prize… he shook his head. As soon as Minerva had decided to join in, he’d known that it was a lost cause and he didn’t begrudge her that, besides, even if it was going to take them a little longer, it was going to be more than worth it in the end.
“…and it will all be worth it,” Rogue finished for him, knowing the words that he hadn’t said and smiling up at him, and Sting fell in love with him a little more as he leaned in to kiss him, rubbing their noses together as he teased him.
“Now, see that’s what you were supposed to say earlier…”
****
When Sting arrived at the coffee shop for his shift the next morning, after dropping Rogue off at work he was amused and mildly horrified to see Minerva contentedly eating some leftover waffle from the night before as she inhaled her morning coffee. While he had eaten breakfast before leaving, Rogue had groaned at the thought of eating, demanding sympathy kisses instead and he shook his head at her as he dumped his stuff in the locker. “I don’t know where you put it,” he informed her, turning his phone off and he was about to close the door when he spotted the envelope half-buried under his stuff. Grabbing it, he glanced at it, wondering who had used the locker last, as most people knew it was his, startled to find his and Rogue’s name scrawled across the front in Minerva’s ridiculously elegant writing. “What is this?” He asked, lifting it and turning to look at her.
“Open it,” she smiled at him, taking a large bite of waffle and syrup and humming appreciatively. Rolling his eyes at the display, he obediently opened the envelope, ignoring her snort as he all but destroyed it in the process. The small card with two cats curled together made him smile. Remembering when he’d all but talked her ears off about Frosch and Lector in the week before they’d first brought them home, and how despite complaining that she never wanted to hear about them again, she had been the first person to fall in love with the pair. And was responsible for a large portion of the toys piled in a basket next to the scratch post.
Opening the card, he made a startled noise as something fell out of it. Glancing briefly at the card, he was surprised to realise it was signed by everyone in their group and wishing them luck, and more than confused than ever he crouched to pick up the piece of paper that had fallen out. No, not paper…a cheque and he almost dropped it when he read how much it was before. “What is this?” His voice came out far higher than intended as he whirled to look at her, waving it at her, questions and a refusal bubbling up.
“Why do you think we all entered the contest?” Minerva asked, and his mouth opened and closed several times, her quiet answer having derailed his protests, and he glanced down at the cheque, for the exact amount that she had won the night before.
“But…”
“Yukino saw an advert for it,” Minerva took pity on him, gulping another mouthful of coffee before continuing. “I was the one that suggested that we all take part to increase our chances, and we wanted to surprise you, so we pretended to stumble over it.”
Sting was reeling, glancing between her and the cheque. We’ll get there, and it will all be worth it, the conversation with Rogue replayed through his mind, and his fingers tightened on the cheque. “You all planned this?” There was a warm feeling bubbling up underneath the shock, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“Are you really that surprised?”
“N-No…”
“Then close your mouth,” Minerva told him primly, getting to her feet and moving across to him. Reaching out to curl his fingers around the cheque, squeezing slightly as she smirked at him. “And go and call your fiancé and tell him the good news.” Sting swallowed, and then all but yanked her into a tight hug and snorting as she yelped and swatted at him before melting into the embrace.
“Thank you.”