Chapter Text
“Cecil?”
At the sound of the excited voice, Cecil’s head jerked up from where he’d been hunching over his sandwich. He slurped the tentacle from his PB&J that had been hanging halfway out of his mouth, a flush coloring his cheeks at the sight of his childhood best friend, Earl Harlan approaching him.
Earl looked… he looked good. He looked taller than Cecil remembered, and broader, his shoulders nicely filling out his blood spattered chef’s jacket. Unruly red curls poked out from under his chef’s hat and the wide grin on his face caused his nose to scrunch up and the skin between his freckles take on a faintly pink color. Earl waved eagerly with the large meat cleaver he was holding as he pushed his way through the crowded waiting area.
Hastily Cecil shoved the remains of his sandwich into his fanny pack and pasted on an uncomfortable smile. “Hey, Earl,” Cecil greeted as Earl bounded to a stop in front of him.
“Hey Cecil! I don’t remember seeing your name on the reservations list for tonight.” Earl was all bright smile and tightly contained coils of energy as he grinned down at Cecil.
“Well, no-” Cecil started, his cheeks as red as Earl’s hair, but he stopped and cleared his throat. “So, uh, Earl, how-how are you?” he stammered nervously. “I haven’t seen you since that whole… eternal scouts… thing…”
Earl’s smile dimmed slightly, but he recovered quickly. “Yeah, I’ve been pretty busy, with the restaurant.”
“Right, work, pfft,” Cecil agreed, nodding his head a little too vigorously. “I know about that.”
“Yeah, I know. I always listen to your show.” Earl had stepped in close, leaning down slightly so it was easier to hear each other over the din of the crowd around them. It was a practical posture, but it meant he was looming over Cecil, who was seated on the plush, brown fur bench that ran the length of the waiting area.
Cecil shrank a little into the bench, tilting his head to look up at Earl’s face. Earl’s mismatched eyes were bright and focused intensely on Cecil, as though he was unaware of the crowd jostling around them, and Cecil was fairly certain that his cheeks were about to burst into flames - which would be really unfortunate, since Earl really had perfect eyebrows and it would be a shame to singe them off.
“Maybeyoucouldcomeonsometime,” Cecil said, speaking too quickly as he continued to slide down the bench. “Ithinkit’dbereallyneatandthelistenerswouldtotally-” he had to stop for breath, “-loveit.”
Earl chuckled, low and warm in his throat. “I’d love to,” Earl said, leaning in just a little closer.
“NeatI’llhaveaninterncallyouwithdetails,” Cecil shouted. He slipped all the way to the floor and quickly bounded back up again, nearly clipping Earl on the chin as he did so, and fled the restaurant.
Cecil had walked halfway home by the time his face died down to just sizzling embers. He walked two more blocks before he remembered that he’d driven to Tourniquet.