Need a drink? - [Male OC X Ford Pines] - Complete

11: A Letter

"James!" yelled my housemate Jacob. "You've got mail."

"Who from?" I asked, stirring the mac and cheese I was working on for supper.

"Uh... Stanford Pines."

I set my spoon on the counter and ran to the living room. "Gimme!"

"Christ, man!" Jacob yelled. "Calm down. It's just a fucking letter, man."

"I've been waiting for this letter all week!" I tore the letter open as I made the way back to the kitchen. I finished the mac and cheese before sitting down at the table. "Dinner's ready!" I yelled unfolding the letter.

My housemates - Jacob, Harry, and Mac - came running. They were big fans of my food, even the simple things, since I was the only culinary student in the house and by extension, the only one who could cook.

I read the letter quietly:

Dear King,

I've officially received my PhD and my thesis is nationally ranked! I'm sorry if my hand writing isn't as neat as normal since I'm very excited. I've been granted an enormous award to go anywhere and study anything. I've decided to study anomalies out in roadkill country, Oregon, Gravity Falls. There seems to be an impressive concentration of oddities there. By the time this letter reaches you I'll already be on the bus on my way there. Maybe once you've graduated, we can open a restaurant out there. It seems like a nice place to call home... Quiet... free from prying eyes. Be sure to keep me updated on the outside world. I like hearing about the tings going on. Address your next letter to the Gravity Falls post office, PO Box 3.

With love, Sixer.

With a smile I set down the letter and got my own food. When I turned around with my food, Mac had my letter in his hand. Mac and I didn't get along all that well. He was VERY vocally against gay marriage ever being legalized, saying it's a sin and ignoring the fact that not every person in America is a Christian. He also had a very bad snooping problem.

"Who's Sixer?" Mac asked.

I tore the paper from his hands. "It's illegal to read other people's mail, asshole."

"Whatever," Mac said. "Who's Sixer?"

"A childhood friend," I growled, putting the letter in my pocket.

"A friend who wants to retire with you and signs letters with love?" Mac asked.

"Yes," I said. "Drop it or I'll stop cooking for you."

"Fuck that," Mac said dropping the bowl, spoon, and food in the trash can. "I don't want to eat food made by a fucking faggot anyway!" He pushed me against the counter, causing my bowl to shatter as it hit the floor and throwing the macaroni all over my nice pants and vest. Jacob and Harry stared as Mac stomped away, knocking things like my chair over and slamming his room door.

I rubbed the spot on my back where I hit the counter and stood back up. "Fucking asshole..."

Harry put his empty bowl in the sink and grabbed a broom. "Ignore his bullshit man." He cleaned up my bowl.

"I'm used to it." I grabbed the mop to clean up the cheese, rubbing my wrist where it hit the counter. "Mac has had it out for me for the three years we've lived in this house."

"Then why do you stay here," Jacob said. "He seems kind of dangerous."

"The lease," I said. "It's a six year deal with both of our names on it."

"Six years? Who makes a lease like that?"

"Well," I said, "I expected that to be... because that's how long it takes to get a PhD. For a normal person, that is."

"Well even that's fast but aren't you a culinary student?" Harry asked.

"I am, yes. Sixer isn't."

"Sixer is your boyfriend, right?" Jacob asked, setting his empty bowl in the sink.

I sighed. "Not exactly legal, is it?"

"That's because of stupid people like Mac," Jacob said. "As long as you're not into me, I don't give a shit."

"Same here, man," Harry agreed.

I smiled. "Thanks guys. Don't worry, I'm not into either of you in that way. You're actually the first people to show me kindness when they found out. Except Sixer, of course."

"It's no problem, James," Harry said.

"Sixer is a nickname right?" Jacob asked. "What's it from?

"Yeah." I picked up the empty envelope from the table and dropped it in the trash, taking out and scraping the unbroken bowl. "His real name is Stanford." I put the bowl in the sink. "His brother and I have called him Sixer since we were in middle school because he has six fingers on each hand."

"Six fingers? That's even weirder than your eyes," Jacob said.

"But his hands are warm and soft," I said feeling my face heat up. "See, this is why I don't talk about the people in my past," I said patting my cheeks.

"You're gushing like my little sister does," Jacob laughed.

"How can I not gush over this man?" I set the letter down upside down to show were Ford had doodled a rabbit on the paper before writing on the other side. "Look at this! This man is adorable and smart and the best part of my fucking life!"

Jacob and Harry laughed. "At least your happy, man."

"Yeah," my smile faltered, "but you guys can't tell anyone. It's still pretty illegal to be a homosexual and if it gets out, I could loose my job and my scholarship and my lease, not to mention your subleases."

"No problem, man," Jacob said. "We won't say anything."

"And," Harry added, "even if Mac says something, we'll deny it being true. Then he'll just look like a fool."

I smiled. "You guys are great." I glanced at my watch. "I better changed for work... again."