Not So Blissful
Dominic yawned, ran a hand through his already sleep-ruffled hair and opened the fridge door. After being blinded by the damn fridge light, he set about searching through two days' worth of beer for the milk and came up with the carton.
The empty carton.
The kitchen door opened and Elijah padded in, clad only in a pair of boxers and with hair that looked like a bird had been nesting in it. Grunting, he elbowed past Dom and stared into the fridge.
"Where's the milk?"
"There is none," Dom shook the carton pathetically; "someone finished it and put the empty carton back in the fridge."
Elijah at least had the grace to look slightly ashamed. "Well.. it wasn't me."
Dom waved the carton around as he spoke, early morning crankiness oozing from every pore. "No, of course not. It must have been the invisible third person who lives in this goddamn house."
"There's no need to get so fucking cranky about it!" Elijah snapped back, voice filled with the same peevish tone.
"Must.. have.. coffee-with-milk." Dom's face was crunched up, causing a crease to form between his eyebrows as he pushed back, away from the fridge, milk carton still clutched in his hand.
Elijah swung the door shut and followed him across the kitchen, towards the table, screwing up his eyes up as he stepped in a particularly sunny patch. "Yeah? Well I want fucking cereal-with-milk but you don't hear me complaining."
"Mm-hmm. What do you call that then?" said Dom, one eyebrow raised.
Elijah snatched at the milk carton. "Whining. There's a difference."
"I'll take your word for it but it still doesn't solve this glaring 'no milk for my coffee' problem."
Elijah suggested hopefully. "Black coffee?"
Dom paused mid-sit down and pulled a disgusted face. "Is evil and the absolute last resort."
"Hmph. What do you want me to do 'bout it? And why me?"
Dom sat down at the table and rubbed his eyes blearly. "Getting off your boxer-clad arse and buying some more milk would earn you my forgiviness in about, oh, twenty years. And you have to do it because it's the unwritten rule that the person who finishes the milk and puts the empty carton back buys more."
"Christ. Okay, Okay. I'll go buy more bloody milk," Elijah paused, "suppose I'll have to get dressed and find my car keys then."
"Well," faint amusement tinged the crankiness in Dominic's voice, "that would be a fucking start." He got two fingers in return as Elijah trudged out of the kitchen in the direction of the bathroom.
The car keys were finally located under a weeks' worth of unopened mail. Dom slid into the passenger seat and fumbled for his sunglasses, complaining bitterly about the fucking sunlight, how it was fucking early in the fucking morning, the fact he hadn't had his fucking coffee and how all that was Elijah's fucking fault. Elijah affected ignorance until Dominic's rant hit the part about how it was all Elijah's fucking fault. Then he dropped the ignorance and fired back a petulant "Fuck you Monaghan. I'm not the only person living in the house, you know. And you didn't bloody well have to come with me."
Silence and then Dom laughed, a smirk spreading across his face. "Love you too, sweetheart."
Elijah caught a glimpse of Dominic's smirk in the rear view mirror and tried not to smile. Failed. "Fucker."