~Zak's POV~
It's almost mid afternoon when I finally awake.
Awake, I sit on my empty bed. He's already up, preparing breakfast for the two of us. It was regular routine. Wake up, meet Darryl in the kitchen, eat, spend most of our day together, and end our day curled up, cuddling on the couch, sound asleep to the end credits of an old movie.
It's been almost 6 years since prom. The two of us were approaching the age of 23 in the next few months. We've moved in together at 20. Both of us have part time jobs that we work on to be able to live in a more fitting home. For now, we stay in the usual scene of an apartment that we could barely afford. Darryl's parents spoil us, sending money monthly. Ever since prom, Darryl had vowed to take care of the roses we won. That proved to be difficult; both batches have withered. Though they're already dead and the petals are slowly falling off, he decided that he still wanted to keep them. He stores every fallen petal in a plastic bag which he stores safely in one of
our shared drawers.
I meet him and watch as he grabs a carton of orange juice from the fridge. He doesn't notice me, I take this as a chance. The tip tilts, pouring orange fluid in two glasses. His measuring seems off, one seems to be filled to the rim, the other filled half way. He sips from the heavier glass, balancing the amount of the two glasses. I hold in a laugh. On my tiptoe, I walk up to him. His back is the best view I get of him.
Carefully, I move my hand to my laugh. To me, it was funny how he still hadn't noticed me. Swiftly, I move my hands to hold his hips. I earn an off guard yelp from the other, causing a laugh to erupt. I lay my head on his shoulder, taking in the scent that came from the taller. He smelled tasty. Like freshly cooked bacon. "Good morning, cutie," I laugh, motioning my hands to wrap around his waist.
"Morning. Don't do that! You scared the muffins out of me!"
I can't help but let out another laugh as I crane my neck forward, placing a apologetic kiss on his jaw. "
"You're so jumpy. Where's the food?"
Grunting, he points to our dining table for two. Two plates sat. Both stacked with waffles, one stack was whipped cream and sprinkles and the other one is spilled with syrup and buttered generously. There's the bacon that Darryl had shared a scent of. I untangle my arms around him and pull up a seat, the seat that gifted me the waffles that overflowed with
syrup.
He pulls out his phone as he takes a seat across from me. Forks and knifes clank against each other as we eat in a visible silence. A small ping of a ding rings out from his phone. Darryl's back straightens in interest as he reads from his screen. "Oh! Later do you think we're free enough to go out for dinner with Clay and George?"
He waits patiently as I continue to chew on my waffles. "Sure."
A smile stretches across his face as his fingers tap back at the screen. "Great!"
He hits one final button before putting his phone away and leaning his chest forward. A knife and fork clank together. My head raises to watch the other boy navigate his fork to his mouth. A noise of satisfaction seeps from his mouth when he chews.
Ever since Clay and George attended prom as dates, they decided they had a fun enough time to give it another go. 'Til this day we still don't know what they did during prom, but it was enough for them to start dating 5 months after.
Clay and George weren't the only two to start dating. Sam and Valerie seemed to hit it off as well. A couple months after prom, Valerie asked Sam out and she decided to try it out. Sam enjoyed it so they went for a second. It took some for Sam to realize her feelings, but it did happen eventually. Now they've been dating for 3 years now.
I'm not sure how the crime life has been holding up for Clay. When I just got into my 20s, I went of quite a spree. Especially at 21. Going to the club for fun with my boyfriend probably wasn't the smartest idea. My murder count has been racking up since my high school years. Recently however, I've been laying low. My mind is mostly focused on taking care of me and my boyfriend as well as our work. I've been dreading a new place, preferably a house. It's irritating waking up to loud beats of the drum coming from upstair neighbors at 4am.
I kick Darryl from under the table, "So a double date?"
A small huff before he answers. "I guess you could put it that way. I'm not sure where we're going out to, but I think we're hanging out at that nearby that diner."
I nod, not really understanding where 'nearby that diner' is.
———
It was around 6 when Darryl got out of the shower. He walks into our shared bedroom, grabbing clothes from his drawer. (NOTE: before anyone says anything, he isn't naked) I watch him from our bed, lazily wrapped under our covers with my phone in hand. There's a video playing, though I've lost interest in it.
Some clothes get thrown on the floor, lots of it unfolded. He seemed to be searching. "Whatcha doing?" I ask, tapping away from the motion displayed on my phone's screen.
His head doesn't turn. He continues his search for something. He holds a casual yet fancy shirt in front of his face, beaming proudly. That's when he finally turns his head to answer my question. His prideful gaze over a shirt turns to disappointment as he sees me. "What?" I laugh.
"Get ready, mister. We're going out with Clay and George, aren't we?" he demands sassily.
I laugh, kicking the heavy blankets off of me. I stand behind him, placing my hands on his shoulders, slowly massaging him to help him calm. "Jeez. You have an attitude today. Who hurt you? I'll kill them," I mumble, half joking. It eases the mood. He laughs in return.
"No one," he answers, humming to a nice melody as he hunts for the perfect matching pants. "You're just being lazy today. Someone needs to put you in check," he says naturally, I laugh along as I drop my hands off of his shoulders.
"Fine. I'll get ready."
"Good!" His enthusiasm for me doing something I was already going to do sooner or later encouraged me more.
I keep my repetitive, amused giggle as I walk away, grabbing my own clothes. My outfit is almost identical to my boyfriend's. A colored shirt matched with dark pants. The only thing that contrasted our outfits was my black leather belt and his pretty blue, knit sweater vest that layered over his long-sleeved, white dress shirt. Our pants had matched as well as the style of our shirts. Just to be safe, I brought a extra sweater for our trip.
Together, we enter the car. I enter the driver's seat while the other boy relaxes in the passenger seat. "Alright, if we're going to go, you're going to need to tell me where we're going exactly."
Darryl nods, pulling out his phone and pressing around. From his glasses, I see the reflection of his sight. An app make the lenses reflect a green hue, adding extra color to his eyes. I admire it, his rested face, looking pretty without trying. His peaceful expression breaks when he finds what we need. "Aha! I found it!" He bubbles triumphantly. "I've found it," He restates, going on to tell me the address. The place was known, a nice hangout friends and a hotspot for more casual type dates. It was nearby which was good.
I drive there while Darryl takes control on what radio stations we got to listen to. He chooses songs that were more upbeat, though occasionally the songs would go from a pop to a metal. The mood swung depending on the songs' genre. During light mooded songs, Darryl would bounce his leg along with the beat, occasionally singing the lyrics back. During rock songs, he tends to stare out the window more, bobbing his head to the rhythm of the instruments. With more relaxed songs, he would tend to lean back in his seat, eyes shut, humming back to the melody.
He was such an interesting person to me, I wanted to understand him. Know everything about him. Over the course of dating for over half a decade, I've found myself successful when it comes to sensing his quirks. When he lies, he does the opposite of what most would do. Instead of staring away, the eye contact would be more intense. I guessed that was always an attempt of trying his best to mask up his lies. When he's drained, he doesn't word his responses. The most you'd get would be an unamused "mmm," or even just a nod or shake of the head.
As we park, Darryl seems to spot the other couple. They seemed to already be seated in an outdoor table, menus in hand. He points excitedly. I grin encouragingly as we both unbuckle our seatbelts to sit with the two.
"You guys didn't wait for us to get a table?" I ask, pulling a chair for both me and Darryl. They acknowledge our presence, greeting us with welcoming grins. The table seemed to be pulled up next to the entrance of the diner. It was placed on a ledge that seemed to serve as a walkway. Since the seating arrangement was placed so closely to the opening area, the view mostly consisted of people walking in and out of the building.
"Sorry," George scoffs, unapologetic, staring at a paper menu. Clay chortles, entertained.
Darryl's small croons don't stop, even as we converse with the other two. He seemed to be in a good mood, though I wasn't sure why. "It's been some time since we last did this," Darryl says, his voice high meaning he was happy.
"Yeah," George agrees, his body wouldn't stay still. He was kicking his legs from under the table, causing it to shake slightly.
Clay's stares won't stay on one person. It alternates to me, then Darryl, then George. He sticks two fingers outward, one pointing to Darryl, the other to George. "You two seem awfully excited today," he notes. It was true, the two brothers seemed to be extra yippee today. It might've been the reunion they've had after some time apart.
I nod in agreement. Clay hands me a paper menu to look at. Since we just got there, we weren't given one. I hold it to a view that was easily seen. Darryl's head rests over my shoulder, his finger to his bottom lip. A habit he does when he's focused. "You guys haven't ordered drinks yet?" Darryl asks, his eyes directed toward our empty space in front of the two across from us.
"No," George answered, his voice very saucy. "We waited for you."
The waitress comes around at perfect timing. "Can I get you guys any drinks now?"
Because of Darryl's hand rested on my shoulder, when I turn to look at him, his face is a lot closer than I thought. "I'll have lemonade," Darryl says, his eyes locked with mine.
"Okay! Regular or strawberry?"
"Regular," he says, his finger separate from his lips, back down to his lap. His resting spot on my shoulder moves away.
"Okay, that'll be coming up," Her pen clicks as she jots down words on her notepad, "What about the rest of you?"
Clay and George exchange glances. A small nod coming from Clay pushes George to answer next. "I'll just have Coca-Cola," George says.
"Is Pepsi okay?" The waitress asks, her pen touching back at the paper. The words cause Clay to try his best to hold in a unnecessary laugh.
"That's fine," George says, nudging his elbow to Clay's arm.
"Great! What about the two of you?" She asks Clay and I, her pen motioning to point to me then to Clay.
"Any type of soda is fine," I talk over Clay. He was starting to say his order until I voice over him.
She nods, pen clicking again. The same process. Clay orders iced water. Away she walks, leaving us to ourselves. I look at Clay. His elbows were jointed the the surface of the table. His hands stuck inward the each other. His fingers interlaced without being held. On this bridge of fingers, there laid his chin. His eyes look to be rested, his expression the type he would do when trying to relax.
"What do you want to eat?" I ask the boy beside me.
He shrugs, taking his hands to hug onto his shoulders. "Hmm," he takes some time to respond. "Oo! I'll have a baked potato with melted cheese,sour cream on top, chopped scallions, and bacon bits!" His order seemed very specific, but it did sound like something he would like to eat. "How about you?"
I think to myself, reading back at the small print of the paper. "I'll just have a cheeseburger and fries," that's the only food I found desirable at that moment.
"Really? That's it?" Darryl asks mockingly.
I let out a laugh, my mind going back to past memories. "You can laugh all you want, as long as you don't beg me for my food like you did last time," I joke. Darryl gets clearly agitated, it's cute and normal for him.
"I do not!"
"Mhm."
The other pair seem to share a conversation as well. They whisper, leaving us unable to hear. The waitress comes back around. We receive our drinks and have our orders taken. Darryl and I request for what we had told each other and George and Clay ask for a shared meal of biscuits and gravy, fries, and an omelette. I thought it was odd but didn't question it.
We get served our food after some time. Darryl's face lights up as he takes his first bite. Barely, I hear a small, satisfied squeal. "This is so good!" He cheers, stuffing his mouth with even more potato. His words are barely audible.
I grab his drink, holding the straw near his lip for easier access to drink. "Don't choke please," I comment, waiting for him to swallow to sip. He does so after.
"It's been a while since just the four of us have all met," Clay reminisces.
"Literally everyone said already," I remark holding a fry to my mouth. As my eyes are away, I see Darryl's grubby hands reach for my fries. I reach out to swat it but he'd already eaten it by the time I could. He lets out nutty giggles as he continues to eat his own food.
"You little bitch," I hiss, Clay laughs along.
"Hey!" Darryl yells back sadly. "I was just kidding," his voice sorrowing down, one of his tactics for guilt tripping. "Also language," the last few words were all mumbled but it was obvious what he said.
"So," Clay starts. His 'o' is stretched out leaving dramatic effect. "George is finally going to move out of his house and move in with me!" Clay announces.
George is stuck on eating a piece of their shared omelette. "Still don't understand why you couldn't move into the mansion," George complains, his words chewed.
"I don't want to live with your parents, George."
"Why not? I thought you liked them."
Clay chuckled as his shoulders raise to shrug. A small, "I dunno," is what ends the slight argument.
Darryl's and I stare at each other, not saying much of anything. "Can I have another one?" He asks shyly, pointy to one of my fries.
I think, not willing enough to share. "Hmm. Fine. But you have to let me try some of your food too," we exchange pieces our meals, he earns a few more fries and I earn a small portion of his potato. "We should do this again next time," Darryl suggests to all of us. "Except maybe somewhere like a theme park! Or the beach or something."
"Fine," George's tone still as sassy. "But I'm not paying."
"Jeez, Clay. What did you do to make him so pissed?" I ask, holding my burger in both hands, already ready to bite down.
"Nothing, this is just what I have to put up with everyday," Clay pokes a finger to George's cheek. "And you're like the richest here."
We wrap up our meals, taking takeout boxes when we aren't able to eat anymore. It was 8 at this point and all four of us were about ready to go home. George and Darryl were both yawning every second. Both seemed to complain that they wanted to go home and take a nap.
We agree, ending the meal and having Clay pay.
Darryl and I get into the car, him wearing the extra sweater I packed for myself. The ride there was mostly silent. No music, no conversation. The only sounds to be heard were his tired grunts or yawns. We make it home. He had fallen asleep during the trip. I had to wake him up by lightly pushing at his arm. Still, he refused. I ended up having to carry him bridal style into the apartment.
I lay Darryl on the couch, wrapped underneath the blankets we set up a few nights before. He groans groggily as he repositions himself to daze off again. As he does so, I go on to our pantry and take out a pack of store-bought microwaveable kernels. I hold the pack to a triangle and place it in the microwave to pop. After a minute and a half, the microwave beeps. I return to retrieve my snacks.
I try to sit on the same couch as Darryl but he takes up all the space. I nudge him slightly, he grunts. "Give me some space too," My words become a question.
His whines were short, soon he gave me space to slide onto the couch next to him. His knees seem to be curled up high, trying to give me space to sit. I play a movie to watch as I enjoy my popcorn. Under all the ruckus of the movie, I'm barely able to hear him shift uncomfortably around in his position. Eventually, he gets into a placement where his head is to my chest. It feels almost uncomfortable until he wraps his arms around me, turning the feeling to become more comforting. I free one of my hands, giving it access to grab for food, and have the other places on his head. His hair is soft in between my fingers. I take a breath of air, the air feels artificial seeing as it seemed somewhat scented.
"I love you," Darryl says softly, tired and voice forced out.
"I love you too," My words come back, almost immediate. I leave a soft kiss on his head.
I inhale, my senses taken over by the scent of buttered popcorn as well as him. He smelled like nothing really. There was no word to explain it, just fresh. It was a comforting smell.
The movie had just started but I had already started to drift to daze off. As I fall asleep, I realize how average my life is. So simple. A thought occurred as my mind was put to peace and finally, was put to rest.
This. All of this, just for him. The work paid off. I got what I wanted. Him, all to myself.
It was all I could ever ask for.
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Thank you for reading the epilogue :)
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I don't think there'll be a new chapter so here's a sneak peak of the new story :)