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“Say, Carl, how old are you?” Lenny asks easily, leaning onto the counter, his back arched in a way Carl would think is uncomfortable. His foot tapped against the barstool.
“Old enough to be offended at that question, that's for true.”
“Carrrrrllllllll,” Lenny whined, “c’mannnnnn, you know I have bad memory!”
“We grew up together!”
“Okay? I don’t remember anything before fifteen!”
Carl took another long swig of his pint, wiping his mouth to rid himself of the froth. It was raining hard, the two men taking refuge in the familiar tavern they loved so much. Moe was close to telling them to take their drunken arguments outside.
“We’re like… sixty-something now, huh?” Carl answers finally, his voice deeper with thought.
Lenny’s eyes widened and his lips pursed. He looked away, staring into his drink.
“.... Shit. Almost forgot. I expected to die alone about ten years ago when I was twenty.”
“Burns doesn’t pay you to be smart, Len.” Carl chuckles, softly placing a hand on Lenford’s shoulder.
Lenny’s head snaps back to him, a lazy smile pasted easily on his face like always. Carl’s hand is pushed off of Lenny’s shoulder as Lenny socks him in his.
“Hey! I take pride in not overworking my brain, unlike someone .” He raises his eyebrow, Carl rolling his eyes.
“Whatever, man. I just can’t believe I’m still single.” Carl sighed, swirling the contents of his cup. Lenny snorted.
“Hey, Carl, c’mon. You’ve had your fair share of luck with the ladies!” Lenny’s eyebrows upturned, trying his best to comfort his friend.
“Still, none of them stay. Maybe we’re doomed to be nine-to-fivers till we croak.” Carlton said, and it was definite to him. He didn't even look sad about it, because it was his life.
“I don't think so, Carl.”
The other looked towards him, not amused.
“Really? Name one.” Carl scoffed. “Name one person, man or woman, that’s been a constant in my life romantically.”
This stumped Lenny for a moment like Carl hoped it would. He hoped that he would never bring it up again.
“Well, there’s me…?” Lenny finally spoke, voice quiet and meek. Like he was afraid to even insinuate it, though they have been rather fruity in their friendship before. Saying it like it was serious was… different.
Carlton looked at him. His eyes blinked, yet his stare was unwavering. He watched as Lenny got less and less confident in his confession.
Carl wasn’t sure what to say, if he could say something that didn’t sound like a playful rejection. Lenny was right. Lenny was always there, he was the only constant in his life.
His eyes glanced down to Lenny’s shaking hands. It didn’t take much for him to take them, intertwine their hands in unfamiliar ways.
“... Shit.” Carl said, and it wasn’t negative. It was reactionary. He did that.
“... Shit.” Lenny followed after, but he was smiling.
Lenny leaned in, pointing a thumb towards the thundering tavern door. His eyelids fell halfway.
“Whaddya say we blow this popsicle joint?” He spoke.
“I don’t sell popsicles and you’re not leavin’ without paying.” Moe grunted, amusement lacking in his expression.