C-021: Get Up

Carter was having a really nice dream. Or, well, he used to be. Now he was in that little phase between awake and asleep where he could mull about his dream without being bothered by human things, such as the sun creeping through the curtains or going to the bathroom. It was a soft, almost fuzzy time of awareness, where nothing significant really matters except storing that really odd dream into the back of his mind.

"Oi, wake up."

Carter's eyes flickered open momentarily, saw something, but didn't comprehend it, and closed again. Carter shifted slightly, and dozed back up.


Carter yawned.

"I'm not getting your fucking ass out of bed again. Get up."

Carter creaked an eye open again and tried to focus. It didn't work all that well as he tried to actually see something. Maybe the little connectors between his eyeballs and his brain was broken, thus causing him to see, but not to "see", like how people say that they're listening, but don't seem to remember anything that's being said.

Ethan stood next to the bed, with his hands on the comforter. Carter didn't seem to want to get it. It was a major clash between them, where Carter was one of those night owls, yet Ethan very firmly was a early bird. It seemed like an odd thing for a relationship to get in a tussle about, but it was a major thing. Ethan disliked having to get Carter up; he wished he could do it himself, but it was damn near impossible.

"Carter," Ethan said. "Wake up, or you'll be late."

Carter mumbled something incomprehensible in response. The incomprehensibility didn't assure Ethan in the very least. That meant Carter wasn't nearly as awake as he would like him to be.

"CARTER. WAKE THE FUCK UP." Ethan didn't like yelling all the much, so it wasn't really a yell. It was just very stern speaking. But it managed to get Carter up just a little further.

"Oh," Carter said anticlimactically. "Hi." He yawned. Ethan knelt down next to the bed and ran a hand through Carter's hair. Carter smiled a bit at the touch.

"Carter, it would be really nice if you would just wake up for me," Ethan said. "Could you do that? Please? For me?" Carter's eyes drifted close and he pushed his head up against Ethan's hand. "No." Ethan slapped him.


"Nope. Get up. I'm tired of playing mommy to you. You're a big boy; you can get up on your own." Ethan stood up and went into the bathroom. Carter could hear the water running momentarily and Ethan brushing his teeth. He let himself slip a little further into sleep as Ethan used the toilet. Ethan came back into the bedroom momentarily to yell a little more, and he went into the kitchen.

After a moment, Carter finally pushed the blankets aside and slowly stood up. He allowed himself a moment of stretching. He reached upwards and tried to imagine his hands barely brushing the ceiling, even though he was far from managing that. Even if he stood on his toes, he didn't quite reach the popcorn ceiling above him. He felt a soft rush running from the back of his head, down to his feet, and back up. He sighed and dropped his hands. Ethan passed by the door on his way to the bathroom—again?--and muttered to himself: "Finally."

"I'm up," Carter announced, loud, but slurred. That was enough for Ethan as he turned on the shower faucet.

"I've got some grey hair," Ethan said from the bathroom. His voice was slightly muffled from the running water.

"That's great," Carter said, not really listening.

"No, really, I do. I've never noticed it before."


Carter sat at the kitchen table and folded his arms on the surface and put his head on his arms. The thought of food flickered through his head, but he wasn't able to hold on to it long enough for it to develop. Ethan, out of habit, took short showers, and he was back out it in a few minutes time. He patted Carter on the back as he passed him on the way to the pantry.

"What do you want to eat?" Ethan asked.

"Eat?" Carter echoed in a dutifully dull way. "Sleep? Can you eat that?"

"No, you can't. Come on, what do you want? Cheerios? Life? Raisin Bran?"


"I don't have enough time to make pancakes. You know, I have to leave sometime this morning, and I'm not going to stay to do everything for you." Ethan pulled the box of Cheerios out of the cupboard. "How about Cheerios?"

"You could dress me."

"I'm not dressing you. How much do you want?"


"I'm not making you pancakes."

Carter grinned slightly as Ethan pulled a bowl off the shelf and filling it with cereal.

"You know," he hinted, "some day, you're going to have to get up on your own and do this. I'm not your mother; you can fucking well figure out how to pour your own damn cereal."

Carter glanced up as Ethan placed the bowl of cereal in front of him. "You've got some grey hair," he remarked, and gestured towards his temples.

"Yes, thank you for noticing."

"It looks good on you."


Carter shifted himself on one elbow and started eating. Ethan paused at the doorway out of the kitchen to study Carter before heading back into the bedroom. You can't go to work wearing only pants, you know. Carter slowly finished off his cereal as Ethan finished dressing himself in the bedroom. On went a shirt, tie, jacket. Ethan ran a comb through his hair before heading back into the kitchen.

"Hey," Carter said as Ethan looked through the pantry for some Pop-Tarts.


Carter stood up and stood next to Ethan as he poked around the pantry.

"It really does look good on you," Carter said, and brushed a few of the white wisps that stood out against the rest of Ethan's dark hair.

"It's better than male pattern baldness," Ethan said and rolled his eyes. He grabbed the box of Pop-Tarts and pulled out a package of pastries. Carter ran his hand down the sides of Ethan's face, under his chin, and up to the opposite cheek. He brushed fingers against the light hair there as well.

"What are you doing?" Ethan asked.

"Nothing," Carter said innocently, and leaned forward to kiss him. Ethan sighed into the kiss and put a hand on the back of Carter's neck. Carter moved so Ethan's back was against the counter and he slid his hands down Ethan's sides and lifted him up on the counter. Ethan nibbled at Carter's lips and muttered, again, "What are you doing?"

"I don't think I'm doing anything that you wouldn't want me to do," Carter whispered, his lips barely leaving Ethan's. He kissed along Ethan's jawline, down to his neck, and bit his at his collar. Ethan moaned slightly and wrapped his legs around Carter's waist.

"Fuuck, Carter," Ethan moaned and leaned his head back against the cabinets. Carter grinned slightly and began undoing the front of Ethan's jacket. "Wait, stop." Ethan moved one of his legs in-between them and pushed Carter lightly away. Ethan huffed. "I've got to go to work. You know that."

Carter slid Ethan's pants up slightly and kissed his ankle above where his socks ended. "But your grey hair looks so sexy."

"That's... so nice to know," Ethan replied and slid off the kitchen counter. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to work before I end up late." He started towards the door. Carter intercepted him and wrapped an arm around his waist. Ethan quickly shoved his hand over Carter's mouth. "No, you've lost your chance." He kissed him on the nose. "See you this afternoon." He went out the front door. Carter watched the door for a bit, before turning around. He headed back towards the bedroom with a sly grin on his face. He didn't make it to the bed before the phone in the kitchen rang. Carter turned around and headed back to answer it.

"I swear to god, Carter, if you're heading back to bed, I'll come back and strangle you."

Carter smiled and assured him that he wasn't before sighing and heading into the bathroom for a shower.