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“Captain’s log, entry one. We have been trying to find the exit from this meteorite belt for the past fifteen days. The morale is at its lowest. We're out of food and water. We might have to eat Ray soon.”
“Frank, give me my recorder back.”
Frank rolls his eyes and passes the recorder back to Gerard. Shopping mall visitors are giving them both odd looks, and Frank has to fight the urge to flip them off. All they needed was a new bed because the old one, as it turned out, couldn't handle the pressure Frank and Gerard had been putting it under every night. So of course Gerard called Mikey, and Frank called Ray, and together the four of them boldly went to the nearest IKEA to look for a bed that can sustain the heat of Gerard and Frank’s love.
What could possibly go wrong?
The worst part is, Frank has nobody else to blame other than himself. He knew that wandering off was dangerous, knew that IKEA always claims those who leave the path, but he really, really wanted to take a closer look at that one golden retriever plushie. And probably ask Gerard to adopt it. No: he definitely wanted to buy the dog plushie regardless of what Gerard has to say about it; Frank is an adult, he can buy whatever he wants without anyone’s permission. One wrong turn was all it took. One wrong turn — and both Frank and Gerard (because obviously Gerard couldn’t leave his own husband unsupervised for one second) were hopelessly lost.
On the bright side, they have found a perfect bed. Which would have been great if they had any idea how to get to the warehouse area but at their current rate it seems like they will have to spend the rest of their lives in the IKEA showroom.
They really should have just ordered a new bed online. Frank has heard everything can be purchased online these days.
“I’m calling Ray,” Gerard announces.
He sits on the perfect, beautiful, would-really-tie-the-room-together bed and Frank plops down next to him, trying not to think about the amount of people that gave this bed a test before them. He really hopes the bedsheets are changed and deep cleaned at least once a week.
“We can’t risk it,” he says. “Ray will get lost too, and then we’re never making it out alive.”
Gerard rolls his eyes. “Ray would know where to look for the way out, at least.”
“No,” Frank whispers in a dramatic voice. “We need to learn how to survive in the wilderness.”
Gerard stares at him with a blank expression on his face that he usually reserves for moments when he can’t quite understand whether Frank is joking or not.
“We’ll make this our home base,” Frank continues. “And we’ll learn how to make fire to keep us warm at night.”
“I have a lighter,” Gerard grumbles.
“You’re no fun.”
Gerard shrugs. It’s obvious that he is trying to suppress a smile, and Frank mentally prepares himself for their usual banter.
“We’re gonna need wood, then,” Gerard says. “I think we should start with Kallax.”
Frank grins. “Agreed, those are fucking ugly.”
Gerard leans closer to him. His hair brushes against Frank’s cheek, and Frank involuntarily holds his breath. He feels so stupid all of a sudden: they have been married for almost a decade, and still he feels like a school kid every time Gerard’s face is mere centimetres away from his.
“And we’ll have to learn how to hunt,” Gerard whispers.
“We could hunt the customers,” Frank suggests.
“Or raid the kitchen.”
“The staff will notice.”
“You think they're counting their meatballs?”
“Oh, they’re definitely counting their meatballs.”
They are so close now. Frank has to throw every ounce of strength he has on the Very Important Task of restraining himself from undressing Gerard here and now. They’re still in public, as much as Frank hates it, they need to act accordingly, but damn, is it hard to keep a hold of himself.
“You two are so fucking gross.”
Frank flinches at the sound of Mikey’s voice. Mikey stares them both down with an unreadable expression on his face. Next to him Ray awkwardly stares at the floor, making a point of giving Frank and Gerard some privacy — as much as it’s possible with all the people around them. In his arms, clutched close to his chest, Frank notices a flower pot with a succulent. The succulent looks sad and tired of its existence. Frank even feels a bit sorry for the little guy.
“We found the right bed!” Gerard announces cheerfully.
“I noticed, yes,” Mikey replies. “You can test it at home, y’know.”
“We thought we were gonna stay here forever,” Frank complains. “Where did you guys go?”
“We were right here,” Mikey says.
“No, you weren’t,” Frank points at Ray’s succulent. “The flowers section is near the warehouse area!”
“We… kinda didn’t notice you were gone,” Ray admits.
Gerard demonstratively rolls his eyes. “And you chose a fucking plant over us, great, that’s really nice to know.”
“Hey, don't talk about Othryoneus like that!”
“And he already gave it a name,” Frank grumbles. “Are you seeing this shit, Gee?”
Gerard responds with a grave nod. Ray holds Othryoneus the depressed succulent closer to his chest.
“Right,” Mikey says. “You two. Stop scaring people and get moving.”
Gerard lets out an exasperated sigh but obeys, and Frank has no other option but to follow his example.
They’re almost at the warehouse area when Gerard stops in his tracks with a loud: “Shit!”
“What?”
“I forgot to write down the stock number,” Gerard mutters, and Frank can swear the tips of his ears turn pinkish from embarrassment.
Mikey lets out a loud groan.
“Please do your shopping online next time,” Ray says. If Othryoneus the depressed succulent could nod he probably would have.
But hey, Frank thinks. At least they'll get a chance to test out the bed again.