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“... and you can pay five extra dollars for a ‘premium wash’ whatever that means. How much difference could there be between a regular wash and a premium wash? My car’s getting clean either way. Total scam.”
Clef starts laughing.
“Did I say something funny?” Kondraki crosses his arms.
“No, you could never. It's just that we’ve been driving for half an hour now, you still haven’t asked where we’re going, and you’ve spent the last…” he squints at the dashboard’s clock. “Sixteen minutes talking about getting your car washed.”
“Have you ever gotten your car washed?”
“Why the hell would I do that?”
“I’m pretty sure there’s dirt in these seats from the 1950s.”
“All dirt is from the 1950s. Dirt is old as fuck.”
“What the fuck are we talking about again?”
“You were gonna ask me where we’re going?”
Kondraki stares out the window at the dark trees lining the road. It was late when Clef picked him up, and it’s only gotten later. Now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t seen another car or road sign in ages.
“So where are we going?”
Clef clicks his tongue. “Like I’m gonna tell you.”
“Fuck off.” Kondraki leans up against the window. Were he in this situation fifteen years ago, he’d think he’s about to get murdered. But Clef’s gotten soft, metaphorically and physically.
The truck slows down as Clef pulls out to a cliffside, turns the truck around so the trunk is facing an expansive view of the glowing city below. Kondraki would describe it as the type of place teenagers go to make out in movies… It's a nice view.
“Alright,” Clef says, parking the car. “Go sit in the trunk bed.”
Kondraki steps out, the cold air smacking him in the face. He should’ve dressed heavier. One of these days he’ll learn. He holds onto his hat as a breeze passes by and takes a seat, noting the cushion. Clef’s really pulling out all the stops for a romantic evening.
The stars are so clear out here. You stop thinking about the stars when you spend most of your life in a shady underground research facility.
Clef shuffles out of the truck and sits next to him, dropping a warm box in Kondraki’s lap. Inside is a cookie cake, the words Happy Birthday Bastard written in green icing, alongside a smudged butterfly. Kondraki can’t help but grin.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t get it in your head,” Clef says, popping the collar of his coat to hide the redness in his cheeks.
“It’s sweet, thank you.” It's pretty much tradition for a man like Kondraki, a member of a senior staff, to get a birthday party thrown for him. He’s never met anyone over the age of sixteen that’s enjoyed ‘surprise’ parties.
Still, it’s nice to be thought about.
“You got a knife? Plates or something?”
“What, was I supposed to provide everything for you?” Code for: I forgot, oops.
Kondraki rolls his eyes and breaks off a piece with his hand. Clef does the same, sliding all the icing off of his piece to glob onto Kondraki’s. They raise their pieces in a silent toast.
“So… what is it, seventy now?”
“Fifty-six.”
“Ah, still got a few of those golden years left in you.”
Kondraki elbows him in the ribs, getting a chuckle in response. A comfortable silence settles in.
“Is that what you brought me out here for?” Kondraki asks, icing sticking to his mustache. “Some cake and a nice view?”
“I could still kill you and hide the body.”
Kondraki scoffs. “Like you’d bother with the cake if that was your plan.”
Clef shrugs in defeat. “I wouldn’t wanna make a boy an orphan on his birthday anyway… Speaking of your boy, did you get his gift?”
“Ah yes, I got the envelope full of glitter.”
Clef sniffles and pretends to wipe away a proud tear. “Attaboy…”
Suddenly, Clef stands up. “Almost forgot the main event! Close your eyes!”
“Why?”
“Just do it!” Clef excitedly scrambles back into the truck. With a disgruntled shake of the head, Kondraki closes his eyes, only for his head to suddenly be yanked back as Clef pulls and ties a blindfold over his eyes.
“The fuck?” A box is dropped into his lap. He feels the wrapping paper crinkle under his fingers.
“Okay, you can open them now.”
“The hell’s your problem?” Kondraki slides the blindfold up, recognizing the reused Christmas paper. He gives the box a shake, trying to guess what’s inside.
He tears through the paper and the box to reveal a slightly smaller wrapped box. Inside that is a slightly smaller box. This is most certainly revenge for Kondraki spending three hours wrapping Clef’s last birthday gift in rubber bands. Inside box number three is an Aquafina water bottle stuffed with brown wrapping paper.
“Alto!” If Kondraki had half a mind, he’d wipe the smug look off Clef’s face. Unfortunately he’s an idiot stupidly in love with the idiot.
He takes out his pocket knife to cut away the bottle and off the cliffside the bottle goes. Under all the paper, he finds a little jewelry box. He almost expects another box inside, instead there’s a green jeweled butterfly brooch.
“Oh,” that’s all he can manage at first. He tenderly plunks it from the box and cradles it in his palm like it’s an actual butterfly. “How much was this?”
“I dunno, lost the receipt.” Code for: more than I’m willing to admit.
“This is… really nice, Alto, thank you.” Kondraki’s not gonna cry over this, he won’t let himself, but he comes close. Before Clef can say something dismissive, Kondraki has him wrapped in a hug.
“Happy birthday, Ben,” Clef whispers, patting him on the back. There’s an unspoken ‘no PDA at work’ rule for the two of them, but not a single soul and lay eyes on them up here.
Kondraki pulls back, takes off his hat, and finds a spot to pin the brooch. “How’s that look?”
“Kinda gay1, not gonna lie.”
“Oh, I’ll show you something kinda gay!” Then, immediately. “Wait shit, that sounds weird.”
Clef cackles, nails against a chalkboard. “No no, big guy, show me something kinda gay. I’m interested now.”
Flustered, Kondraki leans in to peck Clef’s forehead. Clef grabs him by the hair to kiss him on the lips, and licks the icing off of his mustache because it’s been bothering him.
Kondraki considers this one of the nicest birthdays he’s had in a long time.
1. Clef wants to describe it as “kinda faggy”, but there’s a bomb in the back of his skull that will go off if he uses another slur derogatorily return to text