A/n: Wow

Evan eyed his plate cautiously. Kayla had once made him Pillsbury cinnamon buns but she hadn’t realized that the metal frosting top had stuck to the bottom of one of the ecstasy inducing treats, which of course happened to be the one Evan had chosen to bite into. He’d been suspicious of food cooked by anyone other than himself ever since.

“It’s not going to eat you.” Liam said, watching Evan glare suspiciously at his plate.

“You never know. It’s like they say if you don’t swat at a bee, it won’t sting you, but even if you leave it alone it still manages to sting you anyway. And then you’re stuck with that gross red bump.”

“It’s not poison either.”

“How do I know that? You could have slipped me date rape drugs or something.”

Liam snapped his finger, “I should have thought of that.”

“I am never eating anything you cook me.”

“So you’re going to put all these delicious pancakes go to waste?” Liam attempted to waft the smell over to Evan.

“Maybe.” Evan glanced at the plate, and not without a bit of longing. A teensy weensy part of him wanted to take a forkful and let it melt in his mouth. They looked golden and light.

“I’m eating them too. Here look.” Liam shoved a pancake into his mouth, “They’re hot, be careful. So now that I’ve eaten them, you can be sure that I am not trying to drug you.”

“Mmm…but how do I know that you didn’t just purposefully drug yourself. Then neither of us would be in our right mind in a kitchen with no one around, and I really don’t want to know what that will bring us.”

“Aw why not? You won’t even give me a shot? I’m sure the two of us could come up with some pretty interesting ways to, um, entertain ourselves.”

“No no and no! And if you keep talking like that I’m going to go lock myself in my room for the rest of the school year.”

“And how do you expect to keep your grades up that way?”

“Umm.”

“Right, now be a good little boy and eat your breakfast.”

Evan glared at him but cautiously took a piece of his pancake and put it in his mouth. It was surprisingly good.

“See? Not so bad is it?”

Liam took his own plate and sat across the small table. Evan was eating, off in his own little world of clear skies and little bunnies, enjoying his drug-free pancakes.

“You’re so cute!”

Evan put the pancake down and sighed.

“You eat like a little chipmunk.”

Evan glowered at him and continued to nibble. This was his pancake and he was going to enjoy it any way he wanted damnit.

There was silence in the room as the two enjoyed their pancakes. Then Evan felt a poke at his leg from under the table. The first one of was light, but the next one was a little bit harder. Evan was knocked out of his dreamland and looked across the table at Liam. He was eating his pancakes quite innocently. Evan glared at him.

A few moments later Evan felt another poke at his leg. “Stop!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Liam raised his hands in defense.

“You’re kicking me.”

“If you consider that kicking…” Liam trailed off.

“So you admit it then.” Liam just continued to eat, ignoring him.

Evan glared at him, Liam shrugged and the two continued to eat in silence. What an old married couple.

Much better than Kayla’s cooking, he decided.

--

“And since I had to come to breakfast with you this morning, I now get to…do the dishes?” he grumbled, holding up a dirty plate, the distaste plain in his voice.

Liam crossed his legs in front of him and his put his hands behind him in the usual slacker pose. “But I slaved over the hot stove all morning. I put my sweat and blood into that delicious breakfast you ate this morning.”

“Officially grossed out now, thank you.” Evan squirted soap onto a sponge and began scrubbing a pan.

“What would you do, if I said you should be wearing an apron?”

“I’d say you’re a pervert who needs more things to occupy his thoughts.”

“What if it was…” Liam trailed off gazing at the other’s back, imagining bows, ruffles, and cute animals.

“Stop it!”

“I’m not doing anything!”

“You’re imagining me in an apron!” Evan yelped.

Liam blinked solemnly at him. “You’re not naked or anything.”

Evan turned and waved a soapy sponge in the air. “I don’t care! Stop!”

“But now that you keep telling me to stop, I can’t!” He whined. “You have such a cute ass-”

Face aflame, Evan spun back to the sink. Unfortunately for sweet Kitten, his earlier flail with the sponge had left a small accident-inviting puddle on the floor. As his foot slid in the water, Evan plummeted to the ground with a cry and a crash, landing in a sprawled sitting position. His sponge lay on the floor, in addition to the pan he had been washing, and the water that had been in the pan had spread across the floor as well.

Liam hastily stood and hurried over to the fallen boy. Regrettably Liam had never quite grasped the whole ‘cause and effect’ deal, and it showed as he stepped into the rather slippery pool of water on the floor. (Waffle: Wahaha. Since I’ve never grasped that concept either, I thought I’d slip it in here.) With a yell, he too fell victim to one of the more dangerous aspects of dish washing. His chin thudded into the tiled kitchen floor with a slight cracking sound and he lay stunned on his stomach. Grateful for his hard skull and the fact that he hadn’t bitten his tongue, Liam slowly lifted his head and looked at his silent non-apron-wearing-pancake-eater “Evan?”

The redhead shifted and winced, his eyes slightly watering. “I just fell on my tailbone pretty hard.” Pausing in his grimacing, his eyes widened with concern. “How about you? Your chin connected to the tiles pretty hard.”

It was a toss up between trying the British stiff upper lip or the underage WWI soldier in an army hospital camp who realized war might include the amputation of limbs. Liam speculated over whether Evan would wear an apron if he was actually hurt. Hesitating too long, his face clearly showed his thoughts and indecision. Evan rolled his eyes and stiffly stood up with a soft groan. Gods, his tailbone hurt like hell. ‘That’ll leave an attractive bruise,’ he thought mirthlessly.

Liam meanwhile, moaned on the floor. Apparently he had made his decision and it was not the stiff upper lip. “I can’t see! I need water! I’m paralyzed!”

“You just moved your head before, which means you’re not paralyzed.” Evan pointed out.

“Is that any way to speak to a gravely injured man, kitten?”

Evan picked up a dishtowel and tossed it on Liam’s face. “Wipe up some of that water so we don’t slip again.”

“This is blasphemy young sir! Treating a wounded fellow like this, it’s…it’s-”

“-You’re fine.” Evan shook his head, attempting to conceal amusement that was tugging at the corners of his mouth. Grasping the other’s limp arm, he jerked Liam into a upright position. “Now take that dish towel and- Liam!”

Liam had decided that sitting up took too much effort. “Need. Strong…Whiskey.”

“That’s an old man drink.” Evan placed his hands on his hips and looked at the little Liam puddle on the floor.

“Tequila…”

“Liam!”

“Vodka…”

“You’re such a-”

“-Rum?”

Sighing more from habit than actual annoyance, Evan walked back to the sink and finished up the dishes in silence, fighting off grins that continued to threaten his composure. He glanced once more at the lifeless form on the floor, snorted and strolled out the door.

“Kitten, what sort of nurse are you? Leaving me…what happened to ‘no man left behind’ hm?” The tone was indignant and the voice quickly drew closer.

“I figured from lack of a sufficient source of alcohol, you’d have been a waste to bring along anyway. Withdrawal and all.”

“Nonsense.” Liam draped an arm around Evan’s shoulders. “Kitten, you are my anti-drink.”

Evan laughed. “Am I now?”

“Yes I’m going to make a t-shirt and buttons and everything. Live above the influence.”

A/n: Wow. We haven’t written in such an insanely long time. It feels good to open a word document and type out words that don’t have to be in MLA format without the use of ‘I’. WOOOOT. Waffle here duckies! I’m writing this chapter now and giving it to Lorfa to add to/fix up/ spit upon/ plaster bob the builder stickers on/ drive to a carnival/ etc.

Maggie la great.

I have to say.

I ADORED YOUR REVIEW. It was absolutely amazing. And it made me laugh. In the middle of total silence and most of the people present probably thought I was crazy.

And as Salvador Dali once said with his final dying breath: “Where is my clock?”

WOOOT. We finally got this chapter up. After what? almost a year? Lorfa here. Sorry for the insanely long wait. We’ve been so crazy busy this year. School has been horrible and whatnot but I’m sure you don’t really want to listen to me complain. So anyway. I’m hoping to get another update relatively soon, but not until Waffle gets back from Maine and I’m not exactly sure when that is. So hope to hear from us soon!

PS – our long absence has not gotten rid of our love for reviews :Grin:

Ahh. It took me 400 tries to get into our account because I didn’t know you had to prove you were human even to log in. so now I hope that uploading this document doesn’t take 400 years or you’ll never get this chapter…but I guess if you’re reading this it means it worked and I’ll just stop rambling nowww.