Chapter Text
Zak’s miserable muttering was drowned out by the sound of the TV loudly playing a room away. Why was he not surprised? Of course one of his best friends would ask him to do chores for a week as punishment for trying to get some cute idiot’s phone number. Vincent knows he barely manages to find time for both his personal life and his job for some game development studio. He’s never doing any favors again, no matter the rea-- Wait.
Cute? Zak did a double-take on his internal monologue. The guy was... Semi-attractive, he’d give him that; he wasn’t sure why he described the other as being cute, though.
A shout cut through Zak’s thoughts. “Zak! Come over here for a second.”
Zak put down the bottle of cleaner in his hand to go find the source of the voice. He was being treated like an indentured servant, and for what? So that all his texts would be ignored? Zak’s friends were at least sympathetic enough to leave his messages on read.
“Yes, Vincent?” Came Zak's apathetic reply.
“Wow, which dementor stole your soul?” Vincent laughed.
“Dementor? I don’t speak baguette. Ughhh, just tell me what you want.”
Vincent squinted at Zak. “Dementor isn’t French, it’s a Harry Potter reference, are you KIDDING--”
“Shh, shshshsh,” Zak cut in and was met with a sour look, “now what do you want from me!?”
“Asshole. I have my grocery list somewhere on the kitchen countertop, get whatever is on there. I’ll pay back however much it costs.”
The thought of that damned store just reminded Zak about the whole reason he was stuck as a maid for the next 6 days.
Maybe if Zak stared at Vincent's cursive handwriting for long enough, it'd vanish into thin air?
--
Darryl frowned at his phone, scrolling through the recipe’s ingredient list one last time. He was missing some things: semi-sweet chocolate chips and confectioners' sugar. Wasn’t that just powdered sugar? Why complicate it?
Well, he wasn’t in charge of naming baking ingredients. What he was in charge of was making muffins for the rest of his friends who were all going to meet up at his house for a game night. Technically, he wasn’t forced to make muffins or anything; he just started making them one day and it became a staple. Also, Darryl was slightly worried that if he ever forgot, the rest would substitute the muffins for him--
Right. Confectioners’ sugar and chocolate chips. He didn’t have time to think about his friends possibly committing cannibalism.
Darryl gave Rat an affectionate pat before heading out to the store. He figured it wouldn’t take too long and he'd have the muffins done before his friends showed up, if all was well.
--
All was not well.
Zak squinted at the paper and tried to make out the swirly letters. He could barely understand his own chicken scratch and was this close to just calling Vincent for a translation. But, whatever this stupid list said, it probably wasn’t near the cleaning supplies. Zak absentmindedly pushed the cart along, not really looking at his surroundings.
“....? Alright, I’ll check there. Thank you!”
Zak recognized that voice. He walked over and looked to confirm.
“You.” Zak pointed accusingly.
Glasses-guy turned away from some middle-aged woman who was already starting to walk off after having helped him; he seemed surprised and... Something else.
“Oh, hi! It’s nice to see you aga--” The man stepped back after having a phone abruptly shoved into his face. It showed 6 blue messages sent at varying times 2 days ago.
- hi its zak i was the one who took ur eggs
- my friend is friends with some guy named clay whos friends with u so thts how i got ur numbwr
- idot why r u not replying :(
- Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
- were th pancakes good??
- fine no more pancakes for u >:I
Zak raised a brow and waited for an explanation.
All he got was an adorable annoying smile and laughter.
The laughter just irritated Zak even more. “What!? You’re the one who left me on DELIVERED for two days!”
The other guy’s laughs tapered off. “I’m not laughing at that. You’re such a muffin, you mixed up the middle 3 digits of my number.”
The hand Zak was using to hold the phone up lowered slightly. How did he respond to his mistake? By being defensive, obviously. “Oh. W-well, this is your fault.”
“What? Seriously??”
“Absolutely. Your number's too confusing.”
The guy held up his hands in surrender. “I don't wanna fight you again, so we'll say it’s my fault. I think what matters more is that we introduce ourselves properly. My name is Darryl!” 'Darryl' held out a hand.
Zak took it, but instead of shaking it, he just held it gently in his own hand and stared at Darryl. Now that he was looking up close, he could definitely tell that the other's eyes were green. “Cool.”
Darryl shook his hand once and let go at some point, looking away to awkwardly clear his throat. “And you are…?”
Why did Zak just shut down all of a sudden? He was acting weird for no reason. "Um. I'm Zak!"
They just stared at each other quietly. Zak reminded himself of what he came to the store for, mostly just so he could find a way to break the almost visible tension between the two.
Zak was suddenly grateful for the stupid grocery list since it gave Darryl an excuse to tag along as a translator for the cursive handwriting; they shared contact information(properly) and learned they had a common interest in gaming. They took some time to make fun of their mutual friends, Zak not forgetting to mention the torture he was/would be put through just to get the other’s phone number. Even after both had paid for their separate groceries, they stood outside the exit with their plastic bags. They learned more about each other in that short amount of time than most would learn in several days of knowing either Zak or Darryl. Their personalities, although different, played off and complimented each other.
Darryl was reminded that he needed to leave when Zak asked why he’d only bought two things, to which Darryl replied that they were for a muffin recipe, only to realize he should be at home making that recipe. Zak nearly kicked himself in the shin for bringing it up.
Darryl jokingly--and seemingly out of nowhere--blew Zak a kiss when they'd said their goodbyes, and the latter was left to drive home in stunned silence.
Were jokes supposed to make you feel like someone stole the air from your lungs?
--
Darryl wanted so badly for the driver’s seat of his car to swallow him whole. When did he decide that blowing kisses to silly, charming not-so-strangers was normal!? And why did he find himself wishing he gave the other a real k--
NO. Muffins. Game night. Was Zak thinking about Darryl that way? Absolutely not, because the other has his own worries, just like him. He needs to focus.
Darryl shut his car with the press of a button and fished his house keys from his pocket. He locked the front door behind himself when he got inside, and slid down to curl up against it.
“I hate him so much. He’s too adorable for his own good.” Darryl put his face into his hands to muffle the last sentence.
“Hate who?”
“Holy MUFFIN. GEORGE?” Darryl yelped, getting to his feet so quickly he almost forgot he even sat down in the first place. When he looked over towards the kitchen, he saw Nick and George staring at him curiously.
The two were sitting next to the island with store-bought muffins(so much for trying out a new recipe; was there even a point anymore?) in their hands. For some reason, the oven was open with both of the racks set aside, and from his current angle, he couldn’t tell if the other two had put something in it.
“You’re late, dumbass! Did you get in a fight and lose? Is that why your face is red and you’re mumbling about how you hate someone? ” Nick said.
“Language! And no, I just- It’s a long story. Sorry I got distracted!” His face was red?
Nick waved off Darryl's "language". “Well, you might as well tell us about this guy 'cause he kept you busy for 2 hours and thirty minutes, at least.” Oh. Maybe the time Zak and Darryl talked wasn't as short as either of them believed. Darryl still found himself wishing he got distracted for a little longer.
Darryl had walked over to the other side of the island and started taking out ingredients for the muffins he planned to make(he figured that since he already got the ingredients, he should just make the muffins regardless). “Remember how a while ago I told you about this guy who fought me for a carton of eggs?” He was met with a hum and a nod.
“Turns out he’s not that bad. His name is Zak and he tried to text me but he typed some digits wrong. He's such a muffin. We talked for a while and got to know each other; he plays Minecraft and brought up something about being a server owner like me? And the reason he knew my phone number was because he’s friends with Vincent.”
Two confused looks.
“A6D.” Darryl supplied for Nick and George, who were able to recognize the screen name from when Clay brought him up in conversation. Speaking of, where was Clay?
Darryl would’ve also gone on to talk about how Zak has a really sweet smile, his hobbies, favorite things, his birthday--which was coming up soon--, his hopes and dreams, but he was cut off by something reminiscent of a tea-kettle.
Darryl turned to his right to see Clay curled up in the oven, dying of laughter and shaking.
“So you,” Clay wheezed, “you were late because you were on a grocery store date with your boyfriend. Simp!”
Darryl threw a chocolate chip at Clay and refused to respond to Nick and George’s laughter because he’d rather move to the Nether IRL than admit he liked the thought of calling Zak his boyfriend.