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The apartment was unusually quiet, save for the faint rustling of Wade rummaging through the fridge and Logan nursing a beer at the counter. Logan leaned back, boots propped on the table as he sipped from his bottle. Wade emerged holding a sad-looking sandwich, his eyes glinting with mischief.
“So,” Wade began, mouth full of bread, “that guy in the store earlier? Total hoser, eh?”
Logan raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Yeah, caused a real kerfuffle when his card declined.”
Wade snorted, nearly choking on his sandwich. “Best part was when you told him to shut up. And then he got all puffed up like he was gonna fight you—with his Molson Muscle of all things!”
Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “Idiot backed down real quick when i flexed my arms.”
From her spot in the armchair, Al cleared her throat loudly. “Alright, what in the hell are you two on about? Kerfuffle? Molson Muscle? Are you just making up words now, or did you finally fuck your brains out of existence?”
Wade turned to her, scandalized. “Al! These are real words. Canadian classics, baby! Haven’t you ever been north of the border?”
Al’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t need a geography lesson, Wade. I need you to speak English.”
Logan smirked, leaning back in his chair. “It’s English, all right. Just a little extra flavor.”
“Yeah, it’s like…maple syrup on toast,” Wade added helpfully. “Warm, sweet, sticky—”
Al held up a hand, cutting him off. “Enough about your weird Canadian word soup. Explain Molson Muscle to me.”
Logan grunted, swirling the last of his beer. “Means a guy with a big beerbelly. Molson is a cheap beer brand in Canada. And that guy had obviously one too many.”
“And kerfuffle?”
“Just a fuss,” Logan replied with a shrug. “A little commotion.”
Al groaned. “You two are insufferable. I don’t even know why I asked.”
Wade grinned, plopping onto the couch next to her. “You asked ‘cause you care. Deep down, Al, you wanna be part of the Great Canadian Lexicon.”
Al turned her head in his direction. “I want you to shut up.”
Logan smirked, pushing off the counter and grabbing another beer from the fridge. “She’s just chirpin’, Wade. Don’t take it personal.”
“Chirpin’?” Al echoed, exasperated.
“Trash talk,” Logan clarified, the smirk growing wider.
Wade grinned, throwing an arm around Al’s shoulders. “See, Al? You’re halfway to being an honorary Canuck already!”
“Get your arm off me, Wade,” Al snapped, though she didn’t push him away. “And don’t you dare teach me any more of your ridiculous slang.”
Wade exchanged a conspiratorial look with Logan, who shrugged casually.
“Sure thing, Al,” Wade said with a sly grin. “Wouldn’t wanna cause another kerfuffle.”
Logan snorted, and Al groaned, shaking her head. “I need new roommates.”
The two Canadians, unbothered, clinked their beers together and resumed their playful banter, leaving Al to mutter about where in life she had turned wrong to end up here.