Lasagna plans and planning for drinks.
Mikey walks down the hall, searching for the right door. The hall is cold and carpeted, kind of disgusting, the walls off-white. He can still smell smoke from years past, before there were alarms for fires and the black vision distorter would trigger them. The doors are in slightly better or worse shapes, depending on which on you looked at, some with scuff marks and muddy bottoms or others with clear evidence of being slammed one too many times. Door handles vary from door to door, a few of them all the same gilded and cracking knob, others newer and looking less likely to give you a splinter from the paint.
Zipping his sweater up just a bit higher, trying to protect himself from the cold as much as possible, Mikey stands in front of the door he has to visit, glass pan in hand. Unsure exactly how to go about this visit, Mikey looks down to make sure his shoelaces are tied and knocks, the sound echoing slighty into the room labeled (in off-white numbers) 121.
He waits a minute, looking around at the hallway walls rather awkwardly as people tend to do while waiting, shifting the weight in his hands, mentally checking to make sure his wallet is in his back pocket with the chain wrapped into the belt loop and his key is in his front pocket, awkwardly bulging like things in pockets tend to do.
The door opens a moment later, a slightly worn Frank opening the door. He smiles when he sees Mikey and the pan, though Mikey’s not exactly sure which one he’s happier about as he’s waved inside.
“You washed it!” Frank comments happily, Mikey following him to the kitchen. “I’m not usually the one who does the dishes, I cook, no way in Hell I’m cleaning as well.”
“Ah… Okay,” Mikey shifts his weight, looking around the small and worn kitchen much similar to his own. Bigger, though, which makes sense if it’s a two person apartment.
“Gee’s at work now, but should be here soon. Do you still want to go for drinks? It won’t be long, travel’s all that’s keeping Gee.”
“Er… Yeah, that would be cool.” Waiting for Frank’s girlfriend won’t be too bad, Mikey supposes. Awkward, maybe, but making a friend of Frank can’t be an awful thing.
Frank nods, moving towards the fridge. “Do you want something to drink? We have water and iced coffee. It might not be a long menu but it serves our needs!” Frank jokes, opening the fridge and looking expectantly at Mikey.
“Coffe’d be nice.”
Frank nods, surprising Mikey by tossing him a can. “Hope you don’t mind, it’s all we’ve got. Gee cleans us out of coffee pretty regularly, and these are usually the last to go.”
“Ah. Cool. Gee likes coffee, then?”
“Mm,” Frank says, nodding as he pulls a filtered pitcher of water out of the refrigerator, shutting it and pulling a cup out of a worn cupboard. “Runs on it. From morning until night, that’s about all that’s drunk.”
Mikey chuckles. “I’m like that, too.”
Frank raises an eyebrow. “Oh, are you now? Not a tea kind of guy, then? Do you hate decaf?”
Mikey shrugs. “I never really got into it, so I’m not really particular. My older brother… well, anyway, he liked coffee a lot. He used to rant, sometimes, about decaf and people who only drank tea. Said they couldn’t take the strong taste.”
Frank laughs, leading Mikey to what could be considered a living room. A slightly sagging couch, an empty bookshelf and a two cardboard boxes sealed shut with packing tape. “That sounds a lot like Gee.”
Mikey nods absentmindedly, sitting next to Frank on the sofa. “Did you move in recently?”
Frank nods. “Yeah, sorry for the mess. We’ve only been here… I think it’s been two weeks.”
“Oh,” Mikeys’s surprised, though his face hardly shows it. They’ve only lived here a week longer than he has. “Do you like it?”
Frank shrugs. “I liked our old place better. But we had to move here for work. We lived in Bristol before. What about you?”
Mikey shrugs. “It’s okay.”
Frank nods, starting to say something when sounds of the lock turning and door opening run through to the living room, and Frank gets up, going to the short hallway that still blocks the view.
“Hey Gee, we’ve got that neighbor over. We’re all gonna go for drinks, ‘kay?” Mikey hears Frank’s voice ask.
“Mhm, sure. Though I don’t know if he’ll want to come when he sees me,” It’s a very… masculine voice.
“Jeez, what did you do to him?”
A chuckle. “You’ll find out.”
A moment later, Mikey’s surprised to find a man walking into the apartment, not a woman like he expected, followed by Frank, dark hair and a very light but purposeful walk. A dark leather jacket and tight jeans, creamy skin, and Mikey doesn’t know what to say.
Instead, he whispers.