The morning after

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Tw: food play, kinky freaky shit.

Edgar Allen Poe awoke the next morning to the sound of birds chirping, sunlight beaming through his curtains, and, less beautifully, his beloved Ranpo snoring next to him. Last night was a whiplash of events, stopping for quick breaks every so often and finally settling down to sleep at about 5 am. It was noon now, much to Poe's dismay, and he knew that Ranpo had skipped work in favor of sleeping. Typical.

Poe gazed at the form under the covers next to him. Ranpo's chest slowly rising and falling, curled up and laying on his side, a puddle of drool on his pillow as he snored away. The way the light illuminated his raven hair with a golden sheen was downright angelic. Poe smiled, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to Ranpo's forehead.

"Huh, what?" Ranpo babbled, slowly waking up from his peaceful sleep with a yawn.

He slowly sat up, wearing nothing but one of Poe's shirts, and stretched his arms over his head, revealing a sliver of his tummy. Rubbing his eyes, he ran his fingers through his hair as Poe kissed his cheeks.

"G'mornin, Poe." He gargled.

Ranpo was not a morning person in the slightest, but he still flashed his signature smile Poe's way. Poe smiled back at him, his heart melting inside of his chest. Ranpo was just too damn cute.

Still, he couldn't help but replay last night's memories in his mind. Who knew Ranpo could easily devour six donuts, let alone come up with such a crazy idea? Ranpo seemed unphased, staring into space, concocting whatever insane ideas he always does. Poe would pay whatever it takes to get so much as a glimpse into the detective's mind, a mind that puzzled even him.

With a sigh, Poe hauled himself out of bed, moving towards to the bathroom to get himself cleaned up for the day.

"Hey, Edgar?" Ranpo whined from the bed, still bundled up in blankets, "Can you make waffles this morning?"

Poe sighed. He was, if nothing, a sucker for every one of Ranpo's desires. Last night had proved that.

"Sure, love." Poe responded, before raising himself from the bed and padding towards the kitchen.

His kitchen was large, where the two detectives frequently enjoyed baking and cooking together. Poe never pictured himself as a "house husband" of sorts, but for his rival, he was willing to try. Opening the pantry, Poe scanned the shelves for pancake mix, as well as a bottle of maple syrup. He set them onto the counter next to him and began preparing the batter according to the instructions on the box. It wasn't "homemade" by any means, but it was the thought that counted.

Adding water and mix to a bowl, Poe folded the powder together to make batter and poured it inside their waffle iron. It was Poe's, from America, and Ranpo loved how could "make just about anything into a waffle", in his words.

Once the waffles were finished, Poe plopped a pat of butter onto the waffles and cut up a few strawberries on top. Was it overkill? Kind of, but Poe knew what Ranpo liked, and wanted to live up to his expectations. He finished the plate off with a sprinkle of powdered sugar, which sent his dick haywire. With last night still on his mind, he wasn't sure he could ever look at the substance again in the same way. Grabbing the bottle of syrup and trying to cover his embarrassing morning wood, Poe shuffled back to Ranpo, now sitting on top of the sheets, without anything to cover his bare bottom, smiling wide eyed.

"Thank you, baby!" Ranpo beamed, before grabbing the bottle and plate from his lover and squirting an extremely generous amount of syrup on his waffles.

"Jesus Christ, it's like Buddy the Elf." Poe thought as watched in mild horror at the amount of sugary syrup poured off of Ranpo's breakfast, splattering some of the syrup onto his milky thighs in the process. His dick was painfully hard now, thanks to Ranpo's little oblivious show, but Poe was sure he just wanted attention in his master plan of making Poe's life a living hell.

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