WE BARE BROS | BOYFRIEND SCENARIOS

FIRST ACQUAINTANCES

GRIFF
[ GRIZZ ]
          It would have been a cliché to say that everyone involved law enforcement loved donuts. Not only that, but a huge misinterpreted stereotype — but nobody could truly pass up a good ole donut. You had deterred that gifting the remainder of your dozen of the fried treats to the police station would be alright. It wasn't offensive, right? They wouldn't take it the wrong way, right? Maybe getting an entire dozen for yourself wasn't your best idea. Though you were starved at the time, and those pastries looked oh-so-delicious under the glass counter of the corner donut shop. Homemade, fresh, and sweet — the perfect ingredients for a match made in bakery heaven. That little donut shop was the best, yet all the while your worst enemy. As were they many.

          You found yourself in front of the police station, your gaze moving towards the closed pink paper box you held in your hands, then back towards the revolving-door entrance. You could still smell the sweet essence of the sugary frosting on the contents inside. Despite your nervousness, you put on your best smile and happily skipped up the steps of the station. Your giddiness carried on into the station, where policemen and women, as well as receptionists lingered around the front counter chatting away. The little belle at the door rang as you entered, and every single one of those individuals eyes landed on you, who stood awkwardly with a box of sweet treats in front of the door. Your smile faded, faltered into a more nervous grin.

" Hey . . . . Hello! " You waved, chuckling softly. " I brought, uh, donuts? " Again you smiled, holding the pink box out like it was an offering of piece. " It's not a full dozen — I wasn't as hungry as I thought so I figured some of you might be hungry? Ya' know, officers gotta' eat too, ha ha. " There is was, the nervous chuckle. As you scratched the back of your head to kill some time, the room was still silent. Only before it filled with a small outburst of laughter.

" Relax kid, we don't need your whole life story. " One of the many chimed, " Though much appreciated, thanks kiddo. "

Kid? I'm no kid. I'm twenty.

" Did someone say, donuts!? " A loud voice exclaimed, as a tall gentleman pushed and maneuvered his way through his co-workers until he found himself front and center, revealing himself as he stood parallel to you. He was much larger than you — muscular, heavy built, especially tall. Of course in uniform, though he didn't exactly fit the type. He was goofy, a big kid-like grin plastered across his face as he practically drooled over the box of donuts in your hands. He had a dark complexion, his facial hair outgrown and his black, curly hair a mess. His eyes were enlarged, wide with excitement. That's when you peered to look at his badge.

OFFICER GRIFF

You simply smiled at his kid-like nature, and instead of making him wait any longer you handed the box over to him. Which he eagerly took and opened up.

" Thanks! I needed this! " He laughed, only before stuffing one of the pastries into his mouth. Smile and all. " Hey! why don't you relax and have a donut with us? " with his free hand, he handed you one.

Out of spite, you laughed and took the donut. " Heh, thanks. "

ISAAC
[ ICE BEAR ]
After a week of settling in and unpacking, it was time to begin working. This was what you moved to San Francisco to do, pursue your music career. Sure, being the assistant to a talent manager wasn't exactly what you had in mind — but, it was a start. You were simply ambitious, perhaps too much so for your own good. It was both a gift and a curse, and that was something you would later come to terms with.
Your eyes carefully watched the barista behind the counter brew your drink. Well, it wasn't your drink, your bosses' rather. As the barista handed it over you smiled, thanking her for her service and placing a dollar tip in the labeled cup on the counter. With a content smile you made your way outside, as your eyes wandered to the wrist watch strapped to your arm —