FIC: Saccharine [DOGS]

[expletives]

Title: Saccharine
Author: Zero
Fandom: DOGS/DOGS:BULLETS&CARNAGE.
Rating: PG for nothing happening.
Pairings: Only if you tilt your head and squint.
Genre: General? Slice-of-life? I don't know.
Disclaimer: I don't own DOGS, and that's probably a good thing because I'm fucking them up big time.
Notes: A DOGS drabble is as good a way to start as any, I suppose. For the Day #1 prompt at monthastray





Long ago (on some days he wished it was shorter, so he could say he didn't know the psycho with the eyepatch), when Badou and Haine didn't know each other that well, Badou took a guess.

"You take coffee black, don't you?"

Haine had shook his head and, if he were a different sort of person, perhaps he would have chuckled. As it was he just levelled a gaze at his partner and asked for one cream, two sugars.

He had no idea what it was about him that seemed to make people think that he drank black coffee, but it had happened more than once. In reality (for a given value of reality, these days), he hated it. He had trouble getting down anything more bitter than milk, but refrained from telling people this. Whatever it was about him that made people think he liked black coffee seemed to be the same thing that made his job so easy.

It was happening again, right before his (functioning) eyes. Bishop's hands were steadier than those of most with working eyes, and though it was full to the brim not a drop of coffee was spilled. "Enjoy!" Chirped the blonde man, leaving the last cup at the table of three. Haine looked up and grunted, reaching towards the sugar in the middle of the table.

But now, he was faced with a dilemma of greatest importance: He only tolerated coffee, even with sugar and cream, to be polite. And for wake-up purposes, of course. If he doesn't drink it, Bishop will know (somehow, somehow he always knows) and whine and whimper about how his dear little guest doesn't appreciate his efforts to make him feel at home with offerings of delightful beverages.

Or something like that.

So he needs to get it down, but he can't add cream to something that's already overflowing, and for the first (second third fourth) time in his life his asking for help.

"Naoto," He says, turning. "Would you mind taking a sip of this for me?"

And he notices, for the first time, that her coffee is almost white, and there are dozens of empty paper squares scattered around the cup, and she's ripping open another one even as he speaks. She follows his gaze and smiles her usual tight smile and asks, quietly, "What do you think?"

Before he can reply, his own coffee cup is plucked from his outstretched hand, from it's position of offering in a different direction.

Calmly, gracefully and above all sweetly, Nill sips away a third of Haine's (above all) black coffee. It doesn't happen often but Haine somehow lets surprise slip across his face as she hands what's left of the scalding liquid back to him. He's about to thank her for doing him a favour, however small, when he notices that her own cup is black as jet and she's taken not a single paper packet.

Which is for the best, he grumbles to himself as he rummages through those left in the little glass bowl. Now Naoto's side of the table has at least twenty empty packets strewn about (but then, she's so good at leaving things empty and crumpled on the ground around her, it's what she does). The only thing left in the bowl is saccharine, too sweet for Haine's taste.

He sighs quietly and hands the cup back to Nill, who gives him a smile as a 'thank you' (the only kind she can give) and sips it demurely. He takes the opportunity to aim a glare at Naoto, who shrugs it off.

"Some like their coffee to be drinkable, you know." She offers him a sip of hers and he can almost feel his tongue shrivel at the thought.

He accepts anyway, much to his later regret.