Me and Christian head for Clinton's car, parked right outside. I decide to sit in the back, you know, to make sure that hes ok after last night.
"So where will it be, whores?" Clinton deadpans as he begins our adventure. I look over at Christian, the word "pancakes" emerging from our mouths in harmony. I feel myself turning red, so I turn to look out of the window to admire the second best view of today. Kras being the first, of course. But I wouldnt tell him that.
We all talk about our lives as we sit in the LA morning traffic. Usually it sucks, but I didnt really care when I was listening to Christian talk. His voice is therapeutic, I could listen to him for hours. I snap out of it, as Christian taps me to get out of the car.
We arrive at Clinton's regular breakfast place, with our orders already being taken by a server who seems eager, a bit too much. Clinton chuckles as we take our seats at the window, overlooking the main street, crowds rushing through to arrive wherever their mind needs them to be.
We all split the bill, but Christian is arguing over how much he should pay, as a token of appreciation for helping him. I gently reach for his hand, telling him that it's fine as he takes a deep breath. I feel him getting warmer, or maybe that's just me. I move away casually to get up, and Kras follows alongside Clinton. We all get in the car, on our way home. It was silent all the way, but not an awkward "I want to die here and now" silence. From the corner of my eye I see Kras glancing over at me, playing with the ends of his hair in an attempt to remain calm. I look over, and I hold his hand to make sure he was ok, blushing hard this time, but I didnt care about hiding it.
Arriving in the driveway, me and Kras hop out, leaving Clinton to drive home by himself. I walk up to my room, unaware of Kras trailing behind me, so I turn to face him. Both flopping onto the bed, we talk for hours on end about our lives and our futures. It goes quiet, until he suggests that we watch a movie. Ratatouille playing on the screen, I hear him giggle like a child.
"Whaaaaaat?" I playfully whine at him. "Heahaha you look like Remy with braids", sticking his tongue out at me. I roll my eyes, and eventually we become sleepier.
"Psssst Mitchel", Kras whispers.
"Hmfff".
"Mitty can I tell you something?"
"M'kay sure."
"You really do look like Remy hahahah"
"Damn you Kras"
I mutter as I hear Kras giggling under the sheets. I join him, the sound of the movie now muffled. We make eye contact, and Kras leans in. Our lips connect, like sweet euphoria. It feels wrong, but so right. I dont want to leave, but he pulls away. "Come here stupid" I bring him closer into me, now taking control, the taste of pancakes still lingering in our mouths. We both end up so flustered, we continue the last 20 minutes of the movie in comfortable silence, hand in hand.
