asphaltcowgrrl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asphaltcowgrrl) wrote2020-03-31 11:32 am
asphaltcowgrrl) wrote2020-03-31 11:32 am
A Million Reasons Reason #639 (Romani Detective Original Fiction)
Title: A Million Reasons Reason #639
Fandom: Romani Detective Original Fiction
Pairing: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Andrej contemplates yet another reason why partnering – and loving – Zayne is a mistake.
Author’s note: I don’t know what I’m doing any longer. LOL
Reason #639
Andrej exited the breakroom with a cup of yogurt and a plastic spoon in his hand. Bracing himself for the usual jibe from Zayne regarding his mid-morning snack choices he stopped short as he approached the area where his desk sat, butting up against Zayne’s. His partner had his head on his desk and was possibly sleeping.
Frowning, he sat his snack on his desk and bent down so that he could see where Zayne’s cheek was pressed against the smooth wood of his desk. “Are you okay,” Andrej asked, brushing a couple of wayward curls off his partner’s face.
“I’m dying,” Zayne groaned. “Let me do it in peace.”
“Is he okay,” Andrej asked the girls six feet to his left. They were intently watching the interactions he was having with Zayne.
“He’s got a bad case of the Monday Morning Blues,” Trish said with a snort.
“I do not understand,” Andrej said, hating how much American slang got past him at times.
“Reyes is hungover,” Hilary clarified. “He had another um, date last night,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“He had too much to drink,” Andrej muttered. That figured. Zayne had always liked his beer, but ever since Hilary had dumped him, it had gotten out of control. Grabbing a fistful of Zayne’s luscious, dark hair, he pulled his partner into a sitting position.
“Zek,” he spluttered, arms waving. “What the hell did you do that for?”
“Because you have a problem,” Andrej said, glaring at Zayne. His hands were planted on his hips and his eyes were narrowed. “You cannot show up to work hungover like this and be effective.”
Zayne reached up and removed Andrej’s fingers from his hair. “What I do in my downtime is none of your damn business.”
“It is when it interferes with you doing your job or,” he said, leaning in close to Zayne’s face, “when it keeps me from doing mine. Go home.”
“What?” Zayne leaned back, trying to get away from the intense glare on Zeklos’ face.
“Go home,” Andrej repeated. “Take a shower, eat some food, get some sleep. I cannot and will not deal with you right now. Do not come to work like this again.”
Zayne rolled his chair back and stood. “And since we’re giving out friendly advice? I’d give that cute little bartender of yours a call. You either need a good drink or a good –”
“Zayne,” Hilary warned. “Do not finish that thought or I will kick your ass.”
“Fine,” he said, shrugging. “I’ll go. But you’ll miss me when I’m gone.”
“Fat chance,” Trish said as Zayne left the bullpen.
Andrej sighed and collapsed into his chair. “I am sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Hilary said. “I know he’s hurting, but he doesn’t need to self-destruct either. You were only trying to help him, Andy.”
“I do not know why I bother,” he said, grabbing his yogurt and staring at it. It was his favorite brand – Noosa – and his favorite flavor – blackberry – but suddenly, he had no desire to eat it. A hand landed softly on his shoulder and he looked up at Trish’s smiling face.
“Go put that shit back in the fridge. Maxwell and I were about to go get something good from the food truck downstairs. We’ll bring you something back. You deserve a cheat for dealing with that asshole.”
“Thank you,” he said, knowing that arguing with them would do no good.
Andrej watched the girls leave before getting up from his desk and returning the yogurt to the plastic storage container bearing his name. He’d lied to the girls earlier. He did know why he constantly bothered when it came to Zayne. But it wasn’t something he was going to admit to them because, truthfully, he was reluctant to admit the truth to himself.
God, why did he always have to fall for the annoying assholes?
Fandom: Romani Detective Original Fiction
Pairing: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Andrej contemplates yet another reason why partnering – and loving – Zayne is a mistake.
Author’s note: I don’t know what I’m doing any longer. LOL
Reason #639
Andrej exited the breakroom with a cup of yogurt and a plastic spoon in his hand. Bracing himself for the usual jibe from Zayne regarding his mid-morning snack choices he stopped short as he approached the area where his desk sat, butting up against Zayne’s. His partner had his head on his desk and was possibly sleeping.
Frowning, he sat his snack on his desk and bent down so that he could see where Zayne’s cheek was pressed against the smooth wood of his desk. “Are you okay,” Andrej asked, brushing a couple of wayward curls off his partner’s face.
“I’m dying,” Zayne groaned. “Let me do it in peace.”
“Is he okay,” Andrej asked the girls six feet to his left. They were intently watching the interactions he was having with Zayne.
“He’s got a bad case of the Monday Morning Blues,” Trish said with a snort.
“I do not understand,” Andrej said, hating how much American slang got past him at times.
“Reyes is hungover,” Hilary clarified. “He had another um, date last night,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“He had too much to drink,” Andrej muttered. That figured. Zayne had always liked his beer, but ever since Hilary had dumped him, it had gotten out of control. Grabbing a fistful of Zayne’s luscious, dark hair, he pulled his partner into a sitting position.
“Zek,” he spluttered, arms waving. “What the hell did you do that for?”
“Because you have a problem,” Andrej said, glaring at Zayne. His hands were planted on his hips and his eyes were narrowed. “You cannot show up to work hungover like this and be effective.”
Zayne reached up and removed Andrej’s fingers from his hair. “What I do in my downtime is none of your damn business.”
“It is when it interferes with you doing your job or,” he said, leaning in close to Zayne’s face, “when it keeps me from doing mine. Go home.”
“What?” Zayne leaned back, trying to get away from the intense glare on Zeklos’ face.
“Go home,” Andrej repeated. “Take a shower, eat some food, get some sleep. I cannot and will not deal with you right now. Do not come to work like this again.”
Zayne rolled his chair back and stood. “And since we’re giving out friendly advice? I’d give that cute little bartender of yours a call. You either need a good drink or a good –”
“Zayne,” Hilary warned. “Do not finish that thought or I will kick your ass.”
“Fine,” he said, shrugging. “I’ll go. But you’ll miss me when I’m gone.”
“Fat chance,” Trish said as Zayne left the bullpen.
Andrej sighed and collapsed into his chair. “I am sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Hilary said. “I know he’s hurting, but he doesn’t need to self-destruct either. You were only trying to help him, Andy.”
“I do not know why I bother,” he said, grabbing his yogurt and staring at it. It was his favorite brand – Noosa – and his favorite flavor – blackberry – but suddenly, he had no desire to eat it. A hand landed softly on his shoulder and he looked up at Trish’s smiling face.
“Go put that shit back in the fridge. Maxwell and I were about to go get something good from the food truck downstairs. We’ll bring you something back. You deserve a cheat for dealing with that asshole.”
“Thank you,” he said, knowing that arguing with them would do no good.
Andrej watched the girls leave before getting up from his desk and returning the yogurt to the plastic storage container bearing his name. He’d lied to the girls earlier. He did know why he constantly bothered when it came to Zayne. But it wasn’t something he was going to admit to them because, truthfully, he was reluctant to admit the truth to himself.
God, why did he always have to fall for the annoying assholes?