Fairytail Oneshots (Ships)

[Stingue] Hungover Mornings

A/N: Crack - ish? I mean, I could totally see this happening, but...

And I have no clue what a hangover feels like, being under the legal age and whatnot.

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Rogue blanched as he stared at the miserable state of his living room. Misplaced items, broken glasses, and messy furniture... it was as if a tornado had formed in his apartment. He walked into the center of the room, running a hand through his messy black hair. He sighed. It was going to be a long morning, headache and all... headache?

Rogue froze as he heard a small thump and a groan coming from behind him. He turned around to see none other than a disheveled Sting layed out on his couch. Shirtless. Not that there was much of a difference from his normal attire, but still.

"Sting, what are you doing here?" Rogue asked warily, a feeling of dread already blooming in his stomach.

"Huh," Sting yawned loudly and stretched, "Oh." He sat up, scratching his head.

"You mean you don't remember?"

Rogue frowned. 

"Remember? Remember... what, exactly?"

Oh no, this wasn't good. Not good not good not good not good...

Sting flopped back down, laughing.

"That sounds about right," he looked at his dark haired counterpart, "You're a terrible drunk."

"Oh God... what happened?"

Patting the spot next to him, Sting threw his legs over the back of the couch. "Here. Sit down." Rogue took his suggestion, fearing what was to come.

"Well, as you know, Sabertooth has had many successes of late... between infiltration missions, alliances, and Yukino's recent engagement...

Sting paused to look at Rogue, who was glaring fiercely.

"Shut up and get to the point."

Sting looked away.

"Ooh, snappy with a hangover..."

Yes, of course. That explained his horrible feeling.

"Anyways, we decided to hold a party at the guild to celebrate our achievements, you know? A job well done and all that stuff. Things got a little out of hand and, long story short, you got pretty damn wasted-"

Rogue flinched at that word.

"- and so I offered to take you home before you made a fool of yourself. Though I was pretty drunk too."

Rogue pushed himself off the couch, slowly standing. "I suppose I can accept that... although I don't see how that meant that my place had to be trashed."

As he began to walk to the kitchen, Sting called after him.

"Hey, can you get me something cold? If I walk, I'm definitely going to throw up."

"Sure."

He tossed Sting an ice pack as returned to the room, flopping on to an armrest across from him. Sting held the ice pack up as a sign of thanks before placing it on his forehead, sighing in content.

"Well," Rogue placed an ice pack to his own forehead, "Thank you for keeping me from doing something stupid."

"Hmm..."

Sting's face scrunched up for a second, catching Rogue's attention.

"Did I say before you made a fool of yourself? I meant before you made an even bigger  fool of yourself..."