It was mid-morning, and Trent was still resting in bed. He had no work, no plans, no responsibilities, except for sleep. That is, until he was rudely awoken by the curtains in the room being thrown open, and his boisterous husband bouncing onto the bed beside him. "Get up, sleepyhead" Frank cooed with a sharp prod.
"Mmm, noooo," Trent mumbled. "Sleep..."
"Don't you know what day it is?"
"Sunday," he grumbled. "The day of rest... So let me rest!" He dug himself under the covers further.
"It's not just any old Sunday. It's..."
"I'unno... S'not my birthday... Not yours..." Suddenly, he jolted upwards. "Fuck, it's not our anniversary, is it? It can't be..."
"No, of course not." Frank laughed. "Bit worrying you forgot we married in the winter... No, it's Father's Day!"
"Father's Day? You woke me up for that!? Our dads suck, you know that!"
Trent chucked a pillow at Frank, who only laughed at his partner's tantrum. "Well, I suppose I should just get rid of this then," he said, dangling a small bottle just teasingly out of reach.
Trent stared at the vial, a little confused, until his eyes widened in recognition of the shimmering blueish contents within. "Oh shit," he muttered. "Is that...? You didn't..."
