Category: AU, still have powers, Modern setting, Humour, Caffeine Addiction
Summary: What's the worst that can happen to a caffeine addict? The machine breaking down, keeping you from getting the liquid that will make it possible for you to get anything done. Or be civil to other people.
Notes: Tumblr prompt (I'm sorry, I've lost the original link and I'm not even sure it was someone in this fandom, but being a caffeine addict myself, I could not help but be inspired).
I broke my coffee maker and you noticed how miserable I’ve been, so you let me come over and have a few cups of coffee. Thank you so much.
This was a nice little relaxing writing exercise amidst the 5th edit of the BB fic and re-coding 300+ webpages. And it's a little gift and thank you to Mikanskey for being an absolute joy to work with for the BB.
Word count: 1,113
Erik stares in abject horror at his beloved kitchen appliance as it sputters and nothing much happens after that. No coffee coming to the fore. Erik frantically searches through the machine's inner workings, trying to figure out what's wrong. With his luck it's some shit plastic doohickey that's broken and as such, he can't find the problem and fix it.
He's an engineer, he should be able to fix it! It's just a coffee machine, for fuck's sake!
He's supposed to be working from home today, but how can he? How can he get anything done if he doesn't have coffee? Maybe he has some instant? Erik doesn't even bother going through his cupboards. Of course he doesn't. He has used his own coffee maker and ground his own beans since moving into his current apartment.
Erik stares at the machine some more. Maybe if he thinks really hard about it, it will work. The machine makes a fizzling noise and sputters twice more before dying completely. Turning on his heel he marches into his bedroom, gets the clothes out that he wasn't going to wear today, picks up his briefcase and laptop and gets ready to get into work anyway.
Work has industrial sized coffee makers because Stark doesn't do anything by half; knows most of his engineers run on coffee, and last, but not least, is a caffeine addict himself.
Coming home, Erik drops his suit jacket over the back of the couch, his briefcase on the floor and decides that he needs an early night - if it one can call it that. He checks his watch and realizes it was fairly close to eleven and with all the fuck ups that has been at work today, he spent his day running all over the place.
His tired brain doesn't even process why he went into work in the first place and shortly after, he is asleep, face down, dreams of his newly moved in, very cute, next door neighbour making it more pleasant than most of his nights.
Come morning, Erik stares at his coffee maker again, feeling his insides shrivel up at the knowledge that no coffee is happening because he'd completely forgotten about the lack of machine. And he'd managed to finish up the mess at work yesterday so today could have been a work from home day.
Erik stares some more at the machine, willing it to have fixed itself overnight. Or some benevolent entity could have fixed…
A noise makes it through to him after a few times and Erik realizes that it's quite possibly someone knocking on his door. Only just managing enough brain capacity to check that he is indeed wearing both boxers and a t-shirt, he putters over to the door, pulls it open and stares right ahead at nothing. Then he looks down and his gift curls itself around the metal of the wheelchair.
Of course everything is forgotten about as his attention zeroes in on the large cup of black coffee held out at him.
Everything boils down to the smell and the heat of the cup seeping through the ceramic and into his hands as he curls them around it, taking a deep breath, letting the caffeine hit first through scent, then putting the cup to his lips and drinking down the hot liquid in less than three mouthfuls.
"I was going to say be careful it's hot," someone says, voice curling around the words, obviously giving away the owner's amusement.
Erik lowers the cup and blinks sleepily a few times, finally meeting merry blue eyes and a red mouth curved into an indulgent smile.
"I'm Charles," the man says, raising an eyebrow. "You were giving me a headache yesterday and even worse this morning. You really should either make sure to have coffee in the house, or start drinking less."
Erik finds the suggestion of less coffee horrifying, but not nearly as much as the embarrassment that floods him when he realizes he's standing in front of the cute neighbour, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers with wrenches on (secret santa gift from work) and a t-shirt proclaiming him to be out and proud (a gift from his mother).
Charles cocks his head to the side, obviously fighting an outright laugh. "Might I suggest a bathrobe or some such and then I do have more coffee on the machine in my flat. Not that I mind the outfit…" Charles eyes him with no small amount of appreciation.
Erik just stares at him, only slowly realizing he's being invited over.
For more coffee.
At his cute neighbour's place. With his cute neighbour. Who is totally ogling Erik.
Charles quirks his eyebrow again. "Well?"
Erik nods slowly. "Just let me get dressed," he says slowly, stepping back then forward again, handing Charles the cup again. "Thank you. I'll be right over?" He trails off.
This time Charles coughs into his hand, trying so very hard not to laugh at Erik. Wasted effort, because there is no mistaking the mirth in his eyes and the laughter he's trying so hard to cover up.
He stares for a moment as Charles sets the cup in his lap and rolls back just enough to swing the chair around and head towards his own home.
Nearly falling over his own feet, Erik stumbles back to his bedroom, trying to find anything casual that will still show off his physique. He ends up with a pair of jeans that are a little too tight and a t-shirt from his MIT days. Mostly because he really needs to do laundry and-
Erik's mind stutters to a halt as he's grabbing for a pair of shoes, heading towards the door - which is still ajar.
He'd given Charles a headache.
Charles had known exactly what he'd needed when he'd woken up.
"Do I have to bring over more coffee to wake you up, or?" Charles' mental touch is soft and not nearly as intrusive as Erik has experienced with telepaths before. There's a hint of worry in Charles' mental voice, though.
"Eh, no," Erik mutters, making sure to form the words clearly in his mind as well. "I'm on my way." So his neighbour isn't just cute, but a mutant as well. Erik wants to feel mortified because Charles has probably caught more than one of Erik's lewd thoughts about him. However, he really doesn't have enough caffeine in his system to care all that much. Running a hand through his hair to try and tame it - probably without much luck - Erik heads towards the promise of more coffee and possibly getting to know his neighbour.