For Webster

[soldier_singled]

Joe's in such a good mood. Outside, the sun's shining and the birds, they're singin', the way they never did in Bastogne or Landsberg. He ain't even gonna ruin a beautiful day by thinking about it. He can't believe he ever wanted to be a paratrooper. There's all these beautiful things to do instead

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[thewordofweb]

I peek my head out the bedroom door when I hear the noise coming from the kitchen, the noise that woke me up. Joe had already budged from the bed and I didn't want to get up too early. I actually can't even believe my eyes when I round the corner in my Harvard t-shirt and baseball shorts and see what I do.

I genuinely, for a moment, think I've gone out of my mind.

"Can I help you?" I offer warily because this can't possibly be Joe. Not in those shorts, not singing, not looking that way. It's got to be a clone, like Buck and Cain, like one of those weird Island things. It has to be. Absolutely.

[soldier_singled]

"You think I'm letting you anywhere near anythin' I'm cookin', sugar, you're severely mistaken."

Joe flashes his best, brightest grin at Webster and goes back to what he's doing.

"You just sit your sweet ass down at the table and I'll bring you some joe."

The pun is entirely intended, and Joe can't help but grin wider.

[thewordofweb]

I don't exactly sit down so much as my legs give out on me from shock and my ass hits one of the chairs hard as I gape at him, mouth wide open. "W-what is going on?" I manage, blinking rapidly and trying to make sense. Grant. Skinny. Grant or Skinny or Grant and Skinny had to have put him up to this. I tilt my head to one side to gape at the shorts and...and okay, they really make his ass look far too good, but that is not the point.

[soldier_singled]

"Coffee's good and the bird's are singing, sugar!" said Joe, setting the coffee down in front of Webster and bending his head for a kiss.

"What's not to like?"