Chase Atlantic One Shots

Dinner for Two

• Words: 1336

• Written: December 15, 2020

• Summary: After a day of writing, Kras prepares Mitchel a home cooked meal on the tour bus.
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  Light starts to dwindle out of the back room of the tour bus where Christian and Mitchel are working, as each tick of the clock sends the sun an inch closer to the ground.
   "How about this?" Christian mumbles some words to a tune playing from his laptop.
   "No that's not right" Mitchel groans as he falls back on the black sofa. The cushions bend underneath his weight, and all of the springs underneath, bend to hold up his small body.
   "Well we've been at this all day!" Christian huffs as he stands and starts to pace around the room.
   Mitchel props himself up using his elbows, and looks directly at his boyfriend, "Maybe we just need a break."
   Christian stops pacing and walks towards Mitchel. He sits down on the sofa by Mitchel's feet and leans against the other boy. "Maybe you're right."
   Christian leans closer to Mitchel, placing a swift kiss on his lips. The kiss is brief, but still enough to make Christian hard.

   Christian sits up straight, gets up off the sofa, and grabs the brass door handle, twisting it open. A gust of cool air fills the small room, because the boys have been closed up in that room all day. Mitchel jumps up off of the couch, causing the whole bus to shake.
   Clinton looks up from his phone to see what the commotion is all about "You done yet?"
   "Not quite," Mitchel groans as he stumbles out of the door. He grabs a pack of cigarettes, on the small counter next to the mini fridge, and marches to the door. "I'm going outside for a few"
   The door slams shut behind him. A series of clouds float out of his mouth, as Kras watches through the tour bus windows from inside.

   Christian takes a seat next to Clinton at the table. The same booth only fit a person and a half, so Christian was hanging off the side of the seat.
   "Did you pack it?" Christian whispered.
   "Pack what?" Clinton's left eyebrow elevates.
   "You know the thing."
    Clinton glanced at Christian with a look of confusion covering his face. His brows furrow into his forehead and his eyes squint. His mouth soon turns up as he starts chuckling.
   "Yeah I did," Clinton looks back down at his phone, "it's in the cooler by the front."
   "Thanks mate!" Christian cheers and pats his bandmate on the back.

   Kras scoots himself out from under the table and stands up. He slowly walks over to the front of the bus, passing some
cabinets and storage bins along the way. A blue cooler with a dirty white lid sat in between the drivers seat and passenger seat. He flips the lid open, revealing multiple packs of bear and alcohol submerged in ice. He digs around the ice for a bit and pulls out a plastic container.

-

   Before the band left for their tour, Kras took the time to prepare a dinner for him and his boyfriend. He knew he wouldn't be able to cook it on the road, so
he cooked it before hand and chilled it to warm up later. He knew that Mitchel would need a relaxing evening at some point, and he wanted to make this tour the best one yet.

-

   Inside the container is a pile of spaghetti and meatballs, all homemade from fresh ingredients. It had only been sitting in the cold cooler for a day or two, so it should still taste okay when warmed up.
   The bus door lock clicks open, and the handle started to be pulled. Christian quickly shoves the container back into the cooler and slams it shut as Mitchel steps back into the bus.
   "What were you doing?" Mitchel asks as he sees Christian towering over the cooler.
   "Just getting a beer" Christian leans back down, and quickly pulls out a beer, showing it to Mitchel.
   "Alright."

      Mitty walks over the the fridge and opens it. A bright light greets him, illuminating the bare insides, "There's nothing in here," he huffs as he shuts the door, "are we going to go out to eat then?"
   Clinton looks back at Christian, and turns back to his brother "Maybe we should ask Jesse."
   Mitchel nods and walks with his brother out the door to go and find the other band mates.

   As soon as the bus door shuts, Christian runs to lock it. He'll need time to set everything up.
   He sprints to the back of the bus, where they all slept, and tore open his luggage, pulling out two cream colored candles. He quickly walks back to the kitchen/dining room, and places the candles in the center of the table.
   Luckily, Mitchel left one of his lighters on the counter, so Christian had a way to light them. He takes the purple lighter off the counter and ignites the flame, holding it over the candle wick. The wick ignites, slowly melting the wax underneath. The candles are an ocean scent, to try and remind the boys of their home in Australia. There's not too much ocean in the middle of the United States.
   The salty scent fills the air and Christian opens up a cabinet behind the drivers seat. He starts filing through jackets, finally finding his bouquet of flowers he bought yesterday at a gas station. The red flowers lay in a small glass vase, emerged in some water/plant food blend.
   Christian lays the vase next to the candles, far enough away from the flame, so the plants they will not ignite into flames themselves. He gracefully sets down two plates across from each other, folding the cloth napkins on the side of the ceramics.
   He grabs the container of home made spaghetti and plops it in the small microwave above the  metal sink. He sets the timer on for two minutes, and the box buzzes to life. He grabs two sodas out of the mini fridge and places them in the table.
   The microwave screams at Christian, making the same continuous sound. Kras runs over to the metal box and opens the door, pulling out the hot plastic container.
   "Shit" he screams from the scorching hot spaghetti.
   The bus door starts shaking from someone pounding on it.
   "Kras?" Michel screams through the door.
   "Fuck" Kras mumbles under his breath.
   Mitchel fumbles at his keychain, grabbing a metallic key and shoving it inside the door. The door swings open and Mitchel bolts inside.
   "Are you okay?" Mitchel runs to his boyfriend. He slowly starts to notice the table and looks around. "What's going on in here?"
   Christian starts to shy away from Mitchel, embarrassed that he ruined the surprise.
   "Was this for me?" Mitchel holds onto Christians arm, moving his hand down the his boyfriend's hand.
   Christian squeezes Mitchels hand and nods his head. Mitchel steps closer to Christian, wrapping his own arms around the boys back.
   "Thank you" Mitty mumbled as he buries his face in Kras' shoulder.
   The two boys pull apart, staring into each other's eyes before Mitchel turns away. He jumps over to the table and notices the neatly folded napkins.
   "You did all this?"
   "Yeah, your mom helped me make the meatballs though." Kras answers as he divides the food onto each plate.
   The two boys sit down across from one another, on top of the leather coated seats that are attached to the bus' floor.
   "What about Clinton?" Mitchel questions.
   "Oh he's busy with Jesse." Kras smirks.

Mitchel reaches across the table and holds onto Christian's hand. He wraps his fingers around his boyfriend's, tightly embracing his palm.
"Thank you for this Kras" Mitchel softly whispers as a tear falls down his cheek. "No one has ever done this for me."
"Anything for you Mitch." Kras leans forward pulling Mitchel closer to him, sharing a long passionate kiss with each other.