running on empty

13 // Fries.

While he had been oggling her meal, Kiara had been steadily working through her tray. “Ugh, thanks, I’m starved,” she mumbled around a mouthful of burger.

Clearing his throat, Ethan just picked up a fry only to drop it soon after. The grease left a shine on his fingers, and he huffed out a small sigh. It was so gross. There was so much shit in it, and he was going to feel sick after.

Mark gently put a hand on his knee, and he reluctantly popped a fry into his mouth. They weren’t even good. 

The only upside was that he seemed to have less than the other two, and he suppressed the wicked sense of pride he got from that. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he judging what other people ate? Nauseous by his own thoughts, he gently pushed his milkshake away.  

It was only a few minutes later when Kiara finished her (perfectly reasonable amount of) food, and she looked at Ethan’s plate with mock scorn. “What’s takin’ so long, slow poke?”

Pushing a fry around in his (gross, thick, fatty) milkshake, he just shrugged. “Just trying to psyche myself up, I guess,” he muttered bitterly. It wasn’t even really for Kiara to hear, he was just tired.

“Psyche yourself up? For eating? What’s so hard about that?”

The fry fell into the cup, and Ethan watched it sink.

“You know, I really like these burgers,” Mark cut in then, waving his half-wrapped burger around. It vaguely reminded Ethan of some shitty cliché American movie, and he smiled fondly at the other man. “They’re nice and greasy, but not too soggy. A perfect consistency.”

“Didn’t know I was dining with a burger connoisseur,” he teased, knocking his knee against his friend’s, “would’ve stepped up my game if you told me.”

Mark rolled his eyes, and turned to face him fully. “Well that’s on you, isn’t it? You should always be prepared.” Mark’s smile was beautiful, Ethan noticed, and he felt himself lean forward a little, breathing coming more easily now. 

“Aw, Mark, it’s like you don’t know me at all! Hasn’t Unus Annus taught you anything?” At the reminder, both boys burst out in giggles, bumping their shoulders together.

“C’mon, eat your soggy ass fries, Eth,” Mark sighed, shaking his head. 

The teasing mood quickly dissipated, and he reluctantly dipped another fry in his milkshake. They were luke-warm at best and gross. And Kiara kept staring at him. Why was she staring at him? Was he eating weird? Was she judging him for eating so much when he clearly didn’t need it?

Ignoring the shaky feeling in his hands, he pushed his food away for the nth time and smiled tightly. “No, you guys are done anyway. Let’s just go -”

Mark’s eyes flickered over to Kiara, and he clapped a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “Dude, I spent eight whole dollars on that, finish up.” They both knew it was just one of his poor attempts at a guilt trip - that he wasn’t actually upset about the money and never would be - but Ethan pulled the milkshake closer to himself again anyway. He probably looked stupid with how often he was moving his tray.

Trying to ignore how each fry seemed to stick to his throat going down and block his airway, he slowly finished with the help of Mark and Kiara’s aimless chatter. The empty tray made his hands shake a little more, his chest feel a little tighter, but Mark put a hand on the small of his back and guided him out of the restaurant, letting him focus on the warm sunlight instead.

“Bit hot for fall, isn’t it?” Kiara asked, and he (mostly) forgot about his lunch.

“Hey, you doin’ okay?” Mark tapped Ethan’s shoulder, gesturing to a bench. “We can sit if you want.”

Kiara had left them an hour ago, and since then he and Mark had just been wandering through various shops, poking at the god-awful clothes the mall had. While going on a wild goose chase for a store named “Erotica” only to find out it was a glasses shop was fun, they hadn’t had much of a break from walking in a while, and Ethan was beginning to feel a little light-headed.

“Uh… No, it’s fine,” he smiled, subtly leaning against the wall. “I’m fine. Let’s keep looking for that one store - the bear one.”

The older man passed a critical eye over him, and Ethan shrunk a little at the gaze. “You look like you’re going to keel over.”

“I mean, I don’t think you’re the best judge of that - you think I’m going to keel over all the time.” He was just teasing, but Mark’s face fell.

He muttered something quietly, then shook his head in defeat and looked back up at Ethan. “Alright, as long as we leave after. I’m getting a little tired.”

Electing to ignore the weird tension, Ethan agreed and made his way out of the snooty clothes store they were in, secretly a little glad they were leaving. You’d think for being so expensive they might have better taste.

The next half-hour was spent much the same - ducking and weaving in and out of various shops, searching in vain for others, and Ethan dodging Mark’s glances when he stumbled or held onto a wall for support. It wasn’t his fault the place they ate at had very little nutritional value.

Finally, when they were both exhausted, they took Mark’s car home in comfortable silence.

“Did you have fun?” Mark asked, halfway through the ride. “I know Kiara might’ve been… overwhelming.”

“No, she was fine! I liked her.” Ethan tried to count the trees outside of the window, but lost his place when they began moving again. “She has good taste in restaurants.”

Mark hummed and turned onto an exit. “And how’re you feeling - with that?”

Ethan thought about that for a moment, only coming up with various ideas along the lines of I want you to drop me off here and let me walk home. I want to make a mess of your toilet and shirt again. I want to wallow under my covers. Knowing that if he voiced any of those thoughts they would both end up upset, he just smiled and turned more towards the window. “Fine! I’m doin’ great.”

“You want to steal my bike, don’t you.” The words were dry, but Mark's smile let him know the older man was just teasing, and he shrugged off the tension in his shoulders.

“A little,” he responded, once the shock and surprised laughter had died down, “would you let me?”

Mark glanced over at him, eyes practically twinkling among the street lights. Thank god - this was just something he wanted to laugh about right now. “No. Not after you almost fainted in my arms like some Victorian maiden outside the McDonald’s. I told you there was a bench!”

“I thought it would be romantic!”

Mark threw his head back in laughter, and the car swerved a little. "Freaking me out would be romantic to you?" he squeaked. "What fucked up romance novels have you been reading?" 

"The ones where the girl faints, duh." Ethan slumped down in his seat and rested his feet against the dashboard. At Mark's glare, he stuck his tongue out and kicked against the glovebox, giggling at the defeated sigh his friend let out. "Ha, I win!"

"You always do," Mark whispered. It sounded a little too fond for the moment, but Ethan held his tongue. He didn't want the man to stop, after all. 

Even though the silence was relatively comfortable, Ethan quickly grew bored and kicked against the dashboard again. "So can I use the bike when we get home?" 

Mark side-eyed him, and Ethan didn't miss the way his eyes flickered down to his lips. Feeling cheeky, the younger man just smiled wider, sticking his tongue out between his teeth. The older man ripped his eyes back to the road. "Absolutely not."

"Damn. Fair 'nough." There was a small blush on Mark's cheeks, and Ethan made a mental note to analyze that later. "Worth a try, though."