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Micka wasn’t someone who got stood up. He simply wasn’t. Being stood up for a date was something he could kind of understand if, like himself, one was clinically unable to commit to a relationship — so many fishes in the sea and all that crap. But being stood up on a grindr date, that was some seriously offensive shit right there. Okay, maybe the guy wasn’t all that attractive, and maybe Micka had picked him more out of boredom than sheer excitement, but that was rude.
He was still incredibly bitter as he came into the kitchen the following morning, after having an awfully lonely night. He hadn’t gotten off more than once a day on his own since he was 16 and this’s what he had been reduced to. The guy deserved to have his dick chopped off if he didn’t know when to use it, he thought bitterly, but his pace faltered as soon as he registered the man standing in his kitchen. Tall, lean, and shirtless.
Santa fucking existed.
He was apparently busy trying to make the coffee maker function, his bare feet and ankles pocking out of his pants, hanging low on his narrow hips.
“Hello there?” Micka offered, shitty night forgotten as soon as the guy turned around.
Messy brown hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and a deliciously smooth chest he wouldn’t mind licking. Spending that night alone was so fucking worth it.
“Hi,” he replied, his soft smile making his eyes crinkle.
Micka rounded the table and slid closer unabashedly. Holy shit there was some serious hot stuff here, and it’s only then that he started wondering what the fuck the guy was doing here. There was no way Lisa could have brought anyone home. She had the sex-life of a mountain bear in the midst of winter. “Need some help?” he grinned.
The guy stared down at the coffee maker. “Yeah, seems like it’s not working,” he said, furrowing his brow.
From there he looked younger than he had expected, but Micka wasn’t picky. Really not picky. “Let me take care of that.”
He slid even closer to the guy in order to reach the coffee maker.
“I’m Eliott, by the way,” the guy replied, flashing a smile.
Oh. He was the kind to make formal introductions. That was cute.
“And I’m-”
“Don’t even dream about it.”
Micka’s head snapped around to the entrance of the kitchen, where the tiny little ball of anger he had agreed to take in the year before was glaring at him. It was a surprise, really, because Lucas wasn’t very used to waking up before 2 in the afternoon on weekends, and it was barely 10. He strolled into the kitchen, in nothing but a pair of boxers and a tee-shirt, and immediately proceeded to hand a blue hoodie to Eliott.
“You better put that on if you want to calm him down,” Lucas groaned, and Eliott cocked his head, his eyes travelling between Micka and Lucas in a very similar way to Micka’s own eyes.
Micka leaned back against the sink, striking his most casual pose. “Oh, so you know each other, kitten?”
He pouted as Eliott put on the hoodie. Lucas perched himself on the kitchen counter, which he knew Micka profoundly didn’t like, but apparently everyone was getting a free-pass to annoy the shit out of him these days, so why not keep this up, huh?
“Guess you can say that,” Lucas shrugged.
Eliott glanced at him. “With that much enthusiasm?”
Lucas rolled his eyes and tugged at his hoodie, pulling him closer until he was stepping between his legs.
“Is this demonstration any better?”
Eliott chuckled fondly, and that’s when Micka’s brain crashed.
“You little weasel,” he blurted out accusingly. “So you switch sides and you don’t even tell me? After everything I did for you!”
“Micka, the amount of nudes you showed me almost turned me into a never nude, just so you know,” Lucas retorted, wrapping his arms around Eliott’s waist.
Right now he was torn between feeling offended, jealous, or proud; because really, that Eliott guy was a snack. Who would have thought that tiny angry Lucas had the balls to get himself someone like that? He should really be upping his game.
“Well, at least I don’t see any morning-wood this morning, so I guess someone took care of it,” Micka snapped back, wounded in his pride.
Lucas scowled. For someone who had relied on his charity to find himself a place to live, that kid was really not familiar with manners. God, that was the last time he was helping a kid in need, the last time (it was not and he knew it, but whatever).
“Can you just stop staring at my crotch for five minutes?”
“I can’t help it, deal with it. If you didn’t get a boner every five minutes, that wouldn’t be a problem.”
“I don’t-”
With a small sigh, Eliott grabbed Lucas’ chin, and the rest of his protests died down as soon as he covered his mouth with his own. There was a short silence after Eliott pulled back, leaving Lucas’ lips slightly parted and his eyes blinking a little.
Micka unfolded his arms and gestured at Lucas. “Just so I know for future reference, is there another way to shut him up that doesn’t involve me sharing germs and saliva with him or…?”
Eliott laughed whole-heartedly, which made Lucas cringe.
“Coffee’s on me, we’re going out,” he growled, pushing Eliott away to hop down the counter. “Give me five minutes and we’re off.”
He strode out of the kitchen, slamming the door of his bedroom shut as if he was five fucking years old. Unbelievable. Who was going to deal with the neighbors’ crisis after that tantrum? Guess who. Micka rolled his eyes.
“To answer you,” Eliott smirked on his way out of the kitchen, “no, I don’t think there’s a way to shut him up that doesn’t involve sharing some body fluid with him. Good thing I’m planning on sticking around.”
Micka snorted loudly as the guy exited the room to follow his stupid little boyfriend.
Youngsters.