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Tank Dempsey grasped the other side of the bed, blindly searching for Richtofen. He groaned in annoyance once he realized it was empty. His attitude was less-so due to a missing Richtofen, and more-so due to a Richtofen that was probably up to something. Despite a military career of discipline, Tank was always slow to get out of bed, and he knew his partner loved to tease him for it. Yet, there was no one there to mock the groggy soldier. He kind of missed that.
That was when he scented a tempting breakfast frying in the kitchen.
And once he entered the kitchen, Dempsey rubbed his eyes to be certain he wasn't hallucinating.
There, the German stood in nothing but a feathered and fine silk robe. It swept dramatically across the floor as he moved from pan to fridge. Richtofen was up to something, but it was a nice surprise for once.
Richtofen said nothing as he set the plate in front of the exhausted Marine: two eggs and a strip of bacon in the shape of a smiling face. The endearing display ended with a messy spatter of ketchup– likely to symbolize someone had shot the breakfast man in the head. Dempsey looked up from his plate with a flat stare.
“What?” The German asked with an innocent smile– something akin to a cat that gifts dead birds on the doorstep.
Dempsey gestured to the plate.
Edward pouted, “I thought you loved ketchup.”
“I guess,” and the Marine plopped into his seat before he began eating, easing up with a kinder, “thanks, Eddie.”
As Richtofen went to get his own breakfast-man, their cat chased the dragging ties of his robe. In orange cat fashion, it was a stupid as Dempsey, and hadn’t learned its lesson.
Richtofen shouted to scare it away, “I said go AWAY! THIS IS REAL. ITALIAN. SILK.”
“Hey, leave the little guy alone,” the American chuckled as it sprung into his lap.
“I've warned it at least thrice to leave me be.”
“He can't understand you, Eddie.”
“Well, he should learn, or I think I'll upgrade these feathers to fur,” the German dramatically swung the luxurious sleeves of his robe.
Dempsey was 89% sure his partner was joking. Though, he docked a point because fur would've looked better on his little get-up. Feathers cheaped the look of something so expensive. The marine was always fond of Richtofen’s elegant tastes. It gave him an extra ego-boost that someone so classy actually craved his company.
That was when he realized Richtofen was staring at him in that funny familiar way. The stare that said, ‘I know something you don’t.’
Dempsey slowed his chewing, contemplating if he just swallowed poison.
“Well?”
“...Did you put something in my food again?”
“Aren't you curious why I went out of my way to cook for such an ingrate?” He then crossed his arms defiantly, “and it was vitamins . I don't know how you survive without a single vegetable in your diet.”
Dempsey snorted a laugh, knowing the doctor long enough to tell he was being playful, “alright, alright. What's the occasion?”
The doctor beamed, “it's officially been one week of us living together!”
“That's it? We've been dating for years . We finally got to settle s’all.”
Edward gasped dramatically at Dempsey’s callous lack of gratitude, “And to think; I’ve fought the urge to kill you this whole time!”
Dempsey thought that was kinda hot. Yeah, it was weird. And gross. But weird and gross was a good way to describe Richtofen. That was another thing he kinda liked about the goofy German. Dempsey liked unpredictable, too, and uniquely, vanity. The marine wasn't very good at saying words that sounded nice together, so confidence was always ideal in any man or woman.
He thought about those nice words though, like how Edward's eye shined when he got passionate this way. Or how the dramatized movements he spoke with accentuated his body. Especially in that robe, which fell gracefully with every fold.
Anyhow, he knew Edward wasn’t actually mad. The doctor merely loved being an actor of sorts.
“I'm kidding, Eddie. I'm just not used to being sweet.”
He pressed a hand to his chest and sarcastically lamented, “just say you hate me already!”
“Thanks for thinking of me, Eddie.”
The German seemed satisfied with that, and nodded self-assuredly to himself. He finally began eating.
Eventually, Dempsey mused aloud, “You know, I gltta up my boyfriend game. I should bring you breakfast in bed one of these days.”
“If you can wake up in time,” Richtofen cackled, adding a boop to Dempsey’s nose, “you're like a pesky little appendix,”
“Uh. What?”
That was a new one. Creative pet-names were only fun when he was in on the joke.
“An appendix! You know!”
“Why that?” Dempsey scrunched his nose in confusion.
Richtoen looked proud as he explained, “because! You're completely useless and often inconvenient, yet, you give me an odd feeling in my stomach that makes me want to take you out.”
Dempsey laughed aloud, pushing back the doctor's hair to plant a kiss on his forehead, “Eddie, that was actually terrible.”
Richtofen glowed as he admired his lover’s lopsided grin, “ thank you. ”