We Are Never On The Same Page - Sk8 the Infinity [Joe x Cherry]

9. We Could Have Been Normal

Joe awoke to the smell of burning.
He leapt to his feet and sprinted to the kitchen.

Not this again.

Cherry stood over the stove, jabbing at something unidentifiable with a spatula. He looked like he had slept well, his hair untidy, his clothes from the night before wrinkled.

"What are you doing?", Joe hissed.

"Excuse me, I'm making breakfast."

"I can't even tell what that is!"

The flame burner angrily flared as Cherry firmly crossed his arms. "It's an egg."

"It is not."

Joe swiped the spatula from the smaller man and steered him by the shoulders out of the kitchen, despite Cherry's protests. He looked down at the criminally charred egg and sighed. Joe held out a hand, flexing his fingers, gesturing for the apron Cherry had donned over his S costume.

"Go change, you've still got clothes here. They're hanging in the closet next to the pajamas you left last time."

Cherry surrendered the apron and made a small noise of indignation.
"I'm going to take a shower."

Joe tied the apron around his waist. Its faded lettering read, "No Bitchin In My Kitchen."

"If I find any clumps of long pink hair in that bathroom, you're dead."

Cherry stuck his head around the corner of the door frame and elegantly flipped him off. The sounds of the water's steady flow soon filled the apartment.
Joe ticked on some music, the dated pop ballads he could never play at the restaurant, whistling along.
He removed the biohazardous eggs from the skillet and set about correcting Cherry's course of destruction.

The table was neatly arranged, coffee was brewed. Joe had gone only a tiny bit overboard: fresh berries and cream, hot maple syrup, pancakes dusted with brown sugar. A picturesque Western style breakfast. Cherry joined him, his hair still damp. He swiped Joe's phone to turn the music off and then frowned ever so slightly.

"What?"

Cherry carefully unfolded a napkin, placing it in his lap. "Sunday's are your day off. You should rest more."

Joe shrugged, "I love cooking."
Especially for you, you idiot.

Cherry frowned again, but folded his hands together in appreciation for the meal.
Their quiet little brunch began. It really wasn't too grand, but it was comfortable. They ate in easy silence, content, as if the events of the day before had never occurred.
There was no Adam, no threats, only pancakes and morning traffic sounds. Cherry's hands turned a newspaper, the sun at his back.

This could almost be ordinary.

Joe folded his hands beneath his chin, bracing himself before embarking on the questions that would ruin their calm.

"How are you?"

Another turn of a page.

"I said yesterday that I was fine and I'm still fine", Cherry muttered.

Joe spooned a couple more berries onto his own plate, pushing them around. His breakfast companion folded the paper, set it down, and looked up at him.

"I'm going to challenge Adam to a race."

"Okay", Joe said carefully, "So will I."

Cherry sat up a bit straighter, guarded.

"Why?"

It wasn't funny, but Joe could've laughed. Instead, he refilled Cherry's coffee cup, gently replacing it on the table.