Work Text:
6:28AM.
morning. the sun in slow ascension , peeking past the skyline. eugene sits , awake. newspaper in hand. a contemplative look suited for the wise elderly sits on his face. coffee sets on their wooden , worn , used table whose previous owner neglected in its battered state. scratches and dents everywhere - now , another coffee ring to add.
tim approaches , familiar ; their greetings are brief ranging between nods , low-muttered heys , to silence. fingernails stitched with the smell of latex from the previous late shift reach for cereal.
it’s empty.
another shake , as if its lack of rattling within is illusory.
“we’re outta cereal?”
eugene looks at him. the window of appropriately-timed responses closes fast. his delays originate from similar grogginess. “toye came ovuh yestuhday. when you were workin’.”
“the box wasn’t half empty yesterday.”
“must’uh been hungrier than he thought.”
silence.
bryan’s bank of words and patience already near naught. he understands but refuses to when his abdomen is slowly picking up on its pleads for food. their pantry gives out an empty gasp , both without enough time to do groceries to fill it.
“made some coffee - still hot. if y’ want some.”
bryan does , with a side of food. he reaches for his keys in the ceramic bowl , but , damn ---------
eugene caught on - no surprise - already stepping away from the table , abandoning his coffee and newspaper in his pajamas as bryan had. a little bit of surprise.
both a matching picture of just-rolled-outta-bed.
too much respect for his roommate and friend forbids any denial of accompanying.
“c’mon,” bryan says and eugene follows.
7:12AM.
it’s dreary , gray. sun’s arrival sweeps away from approaching clouds too thick to peek through. a gray wonderland with snow clotting gutters and sidewalks and roads untouched by car tires. morning folk heading to work and graveyard shifts just ending fade to background noise behind coffee-shop glass. a neon sign bleeds a vibrant mesh of blue and red saying OPEN with a few other colors outlining a cup of joe with three streams rising from its top.
hands in pockets - gene's still cold , his hands are always cold - he squints at the menu options written in chalk. bryan already placed and received his order , occupying a seat facing the window and the streets.
the open seat fills beside him , familiar locks of black poking into bryan's periphery. a matching scent of latex gloves and disinfectant follows with croissant underlying the scent. there's no questioning --
"haven't been here in a while," phlegm-laden voice with a stuffy nose. stepping outside for a little while in winter can do so much for the louisiana-raised boy.
( no matter the height-difference , several years of age separation earns roe the title as such. )
"that's because we usually have food." too tired for irritation , even though bryan feels it stirring.
"some food."
"enough food for us - not everyone else."
( shelves loaded with packaged ramen , macaroni and cheese , cereal. its food-storage companion , freezer , overflowed with frozen foods of varying snacks for the on-the-go scheduled worker. as anyone in the hospital should know. too bad their neighbors and bored friends don't.
their money stash , as well as food-stash , can empty if neither are careful - money going for self-done fixing gone wrong in their apartment that's been needing repairs to repair a repair , rent , and gene's rental for netflix their ultimate source of entertainment when neither are busy. but above all that , or somewhere in between : food. )
that's the end of that discussion : their silence reads and is registered by both through little hints of mutual understanding.
a chunk of his breakfast sandwich lingers within his mouth as bryan slowly chews. salvage taste , salvage his time free from work , salvage the silence and calm any morning can bring ; naturally entered without the rude jolt of an alarm clock like today.
eugene tears a bit of his snack. "got work tuhday?" eugene doesn't , bryan recalls , already hearing an echo of yesterday morning's conversation running similarly along the lines.
"no." a sip from his coffee. no plans. today his life is untethered from the latches of schedules , but his mind cannot help wander into the happenings in their hospital today. right now and later on. what's going on , who's there , if anyone inadequate at their job is taking the reins for their patients.
no.
no more thoughts of stupid , incompetent people.
eugene is a blessing in disguise for being damn adequate which is an understatement and passionate for his job which bryan got a firsthand glimpse of several times before. it's why he's the one roommate bryan can only fathom to keep. and why he permits eugene access not many are privileged to , such as acknowledgment to his upcoming proposal:
"wanna do something?"
"what?"
"well , euh , groceries first ... then we can watch some movies." a day off of work isn't always vacation for eugene. he's not relinquished of dread devoting his time to the wellness of his patients - there's scarcely such a thing within his very fibre. his mind often drifts of those taken under his care these past weeks. it surfaces in its unique form of concern : furrowed ebony brows , a deepened crevice lining at the space between , his forehead gaining creases , and a distance in his eyes. a look bryan sees but doesn't wholly understand. right now gene is an untouched canvas with the exception of darkened circles outlining the rest of his eye sockets.
as for the proposal , bryan nods. his progress consuming his sandwich is at its end. a few crumbs at the corner of his mouth. "sure," nothing sounds more appealing at the moment as he looks out the window , catching their transparent reflections layered above walking passersby and cars.
8:23 AM.
"what else?"
vibrant blue semi-diluted by tiredness scrutinize the crumpled list in hand , deciphering its cryptic forms as if it hadn't been scribbled on by his own hand. ( in all fairness , it was a combination of both eugene and tim's writing that deposited little thought when they were scrawled. ) chilen -- no , chicken. chicken what? a whole chicken? or frozen chicken nuggets served in lunch trays that they talked about once before? eugene's gaze flicker between the list and the shelves , rechecking to make sure they're around something on the list.
bryan's gaze lingers across the aisle , whose shelves line with brand goods. the ceiling-lined lights hanging high above them is ceaseless - wal-mart is the only cheapest alternative that's sane enough to keep their doors open twenty-four hours. and was nearby. he holds the cart , maneuvers it forward past eugene. maybe a little bit of him is still young enough to want to push the cart forward with both feet on the metal 'foot rest,' sail through the aisles like a captain on a fast-sailing ship. or maybe that's stupid and irresponsible.
eugene's voice comes in like static at first , distanced by his uncertainty , then fully audible.
"more coffee. did we need chicken?"
"yeah." bryan wrote that vague entry. "at the freezer aisle. let's go," eugene follows before fetching a last-minute item that's necessary even though it's non-existent on the list : a particular chocolate bar branded by a company highly regarded by renee.
catching up with bryan , he places it in the cart. freezers hum on both sides. displays of untouched , or newly stocked , items waiting to be plucked when more-sane , less-morning people poured in.
it is a saturday after all.
bryan fetches the chicken of his mind's preference ; eugene mans the cart. he tosses the frozen food into the cart and they continue on. bryan comments on eugene's unplanned addition to the cart.
"did we need chocolate?"
"ain't for yuh," eugene answers , feeling a little smile bred from sheepishness dominate the curl of his mouth.
11:12AM.
pantry and freezer stocked accordingly. little precision at first but it all fits snugly : boxes like tetris filling the small confines of the freezer and plastic-packaged goods like puzzle-pieces.
they sit on the couch , each on their own ends with a blanket covering both's laps. eugene decides to bring his feet up , folded , with an arm supporting his head as his elbow settles on the armrest.
bryan does the same , except he's slouched in his seat. lax dominates his seating style , legs kept propped in front with knees touching the coffee table.
thus netflix time ensued.
the drapes have shut. gray turning to black in their main room with the television as their only illumination. movies , eugene said , but both unexpectedly preferred television shows. jessica jones , breaking bad , it's always sunny in philadelphia - the latter earned most head-shakes from bryan with subtle chuckles from eugene. once the true movie-time crawled along , both had fallen asleep. bryan first with eugene following suit. nightfall already painted the skies as the clouds dispersed ; no more sun , only stars flooding the night , and all obscured behind the drapes.
bryan is the first to wake and catch a glimpse of the time on his phone.
11:54PM.
eugene's mumbles turn into groans as tim's hand stirs him awake. he squints up at him , realizing the lamp of the living room is on , casting bryan a faint orange glow. he's confused , as expected of anyone who napped for a little over an hour after swimming through the deep sea of netflix choices. "it's almost midnight," bryan says and it goes without saying.
the day is over , time not wasted. maybe on the off-chance their schedules aligned this nicely again , it'd go along just the same.
just another day off.