Cassian’s phone buzzed, playing a small jingling tune against his face that sounded vaguely like ‘Walking on Sunshine’. He groaned, feeling around for the device and opening one eye blearily to look at the screen. The familiar ‘CALLING: MOM’ screen chimed at him, and a quick glance to the top bar of the phone showed 12 other missed calls. Once the call dropped, he looked at the time in the corner. It was neatly 7:30.
Why was she calling so much and why did it smell like weed?
Finally looking up, Cassian squinted into the morning darkness of the room. The furnishings definitely weren’t familiar and looking down, he realized he was on somebody’s couch. Leaning in, he sniffed the fabric. There it was. The weed smell. Quietly, Cassian sniffed his shirt. There was also the weed smell. Ooooh boy, he would catch HELL if he came home smelling like weed.
He sat up, looking at his phone and pondering what Deacon’s protocol would have been for this situation. In Greece, things had been set up. His parents knew he’d go out at night with his two guy-friends and sometimes he’d end up at one of their houses. They were established. Everybody’s parents knew the spiele (though they’d still hear hell for staying out unexpectedly on a weeknight, he never woke up to 12 missed calls).
Silently, Cassian pulled apart the phone to remove the battery, setting it on the floor and SHARPLY slamming his foot into it, destroying it. He then popped it back into the phone and repeated the process.
Sorry mom. Somebody tried to steal his phone and it got broken.
Now, for where he’d been……..
Cassian finally got up, scrunching his nose up at the pungent smell. It was dark enough that he guessed that everybody was sleeping. Everybody not him. He was assuming there was more than one person here now. But nobody lingering nearby to greet him upon waking. That was fairly normal, he guessed. One didn’t usually want to have an unexpected guest when waking up.
That left him to navigate the apartment quietly as he pieced together the evening before. There had been an agent of the Negaverse and they’d - ……..why wasn’t he dead or worse right then?
He played through the notions as he started his, unintetional and completely habitual, takeover of the kitchen. Opening cabinets to see the contents, opening the fridge and checking the expiration dates on everything, quietly leaving things on the counter with not even a comment to himself. Eggs, some leftover stir fry vegetables, cheese, sandwich ham, some shrimp? He checked around for dishes, leaving what he needed out in a similar fashion.
Crack, pour, mix. Dice, dump, stir. Into the pot. Gently. Gently. He pulled out a plate and slid the omelet onto it, mentally garnishing it (because there was nothing he could use for it IN the apartment), then moving on to the next one. Some spinach would have been nice with the shrimp, but shrimp and the vegetables would need to be the next best option.
He also poured honey and cinnamon into one, just to see if that would be a weird thing to eat. It sounded kinda good, actually.
------
When a smell mixed with the ever present scent of weed, Mehtab noticed.Mostly, because the smell of week was normal to him, and anything else was just out of place. So when the scent of cooking food managed to get down the hall to Mehtab, he woke with a small caution, (because did he leave a burner on, was something burning?), and a small sense of confusion. He didn’t recall cooking anything, and no one had come over. Minus of course the guy he’d picked up but who woke up and just started cooking? There were pop tarts and eggo waffles.
Last night had been a rather interesting one, picking up another senshi, (who was cute but also going to get hurt), hadn’t been in Mehtab’s weekly plans but you know, things happened. Things like cute guys needing a heroic rescue even if Mehtab was pretty sure they had not been aware enough to know they were being rescued. In the end, Mehtab had set the guy on his couch, made sure he wasn’t bleeding, probably wasn’t going to die, and had called it a night. Going to bed, and dreaming of a surreal theme park themed after Dungeons and Dragons but everyone was in pajamas.
He didn’t get it. But then again, he also didn’t get the thought process behind making breakfast when he could buy it.
Stumbling to the kitchen, hair messy and still half asleep, the brown hair of the guy he’d rescued was semi-familiar, and Mehtab just grunted out ‘mornin’ before ambling towards the omlete that was smelling and enticing him.
“You make this?” he managed to slur out, standing in front of the yellow fluffy thing on a plate.
“You making more?” Eyes went to the guy who was still cooking.
“...is it cool I eat it?”
-----
And in came some mystery guy, hair a mess and looking like he probably would have liked to be in bed still. Cassian leaned back to look towards the door. “How many we got?” he was fully expecting at least 4, based on the fact he kept cracking eggs. “I mean, your eggs are like 2 weeks old. It is definitely time to be using them. Breakfast after a night out us tradition.”
Was tradition.
Was everybody getting on alright without him?
The thought was distracted away, as Mehtab asked if he could eat it. “Please do. I figured you wouldn't mind if I cleared out your fridge a little. Make room for some new food.” He poured another egg-and-meat mix into the pan, then offered a hand. “Cassian Norris.” he introduced.
------
Mehtab decided, cute guy was nice, and therefore, harmless and allowed to do whatever he wanted. Which included but was not limited to pilfering any food he wanted, cooking, and chastising him for his abysmal lack in anything not processed or close to expiring. Which was half his fridge on a regular basis but he was trying his best. The freezer, had Cassian looked, would have held many a frozen packet of veggies and meats that probably had been there longer than they should have been.
“We’ve got-” Mehtab held up a fork, finger tapping at the prongs.
“Me. You. Jessica if cats count. She’s not my cat though so also not sure if she’d count even if we counted cats.” Done counting, the man pulled the plate towards him, pausing to check that yes, he could. Given the go ahead he could eat Mehtab picked said plate up and wandered over towards the kitchen table which doubled as the dining area.
He hadn’t shook Cassian’s hand, and really didn’t think much about it. Only once he sat down did he look back to introduce himself.
“Mehtab Hassan. I like your tradition. It’s better than getting killed. That did not seem like it would have been a good end to a night out.” The man picked at the omelet before stopping short of eating it. Choosing to get up and get himself a glass of water, pouring one for Cassian as well.
It was that or beer which he wasn't’ supposed to have anyway.
“I’m glad you’re not dead. I mean, you are same guy with the big bow yeah? You seemed okay just you know- not awake.”
------
Okay, sleepy guy didn't do handshakes. Duly noted. Cassian didn't take any personal offense to it, at least, just shrugging and looking back to the pan in order to flip the egg mixture he was cooking.
“Is Jessica a normal cat or….?” he pointedly trailed off, figuring that either Mehtab would get his drift or he'd just be confused and Cassian wouldn't clarify any of his existence to him. “I mean, I'll count her either way if you think she wants and omelet.” That said, Cassian did make a point of not cooking anymore of them. If there were only two of them, he wasn't going to waste the food.
Taking a sip of the glass of water he was offered, he tried to not cringe at the tap quality (that wouldn't be Mehtab’s fault and just that part of the city’s), before setting about cleaning up after himself. Chopped meat and veggies were stored back away, dishes were rinsed off, and he even checked to see if the Dishwasher was empty so he could put them in it.
Only once he'd cleaned up after himself did Cassian sit down with his honey-and-cinnamon omelet concoction.
“That’d be me. I'm not quite sure what happened last night, but….yeah.” he was really hoping the next question wouldn't be to ask where his getup had gone. He didn't want to try and bullshit a story this early in the morning.
He was still trying to decide what he'd tell his parents beyond ‘my phone got busted up’.
----
“Ahhhh. Cool then.” Mehtab took a bite and visibly relaxed into his chair, slightly slumping.
“Jessica is my neighbors cat. No star but she does have socks which make her super cute when she paws at you.” He paused again.
“Probably shouldn't feed her. I gave her treats last night.” He muttered before returning to his omelet in silence for a brief time.
He figured that the guy he'd brought home was a senshi. What's more, he figured he must be new or something since he didn't look like a powerhouse. Not last night anyway. That did remind Mehtab however that said guy had no idea who he was. Outside of some dude who had food about to spoil.
“Alphard.” He said suddenly before washing down the omelet with water.
“Alphard of Night. I make people go blind for a while. Thank you breakfast by the way.” Another bite.
“And cleaning up. You didn't have to, and it's really good. Better than most brunch places I've been to.” Feeling more alert, the man finally took a look at the guy he'd brought home.
He was shorter, and looked pretty European. Not much of an accent but it had a general tinge to it? Could be younger or older, he couldn't tell, but he was cute and seemed polite.
“How old are you, and, am I going to get reported for kidnapping because I really couldn't just you know, leave you? You're cute, and, a senshi. If I just left you I’d be a bad space super hero.. person. Or something”
-----
No star. That confirmed it. This guy was at least aware of the battle against Chaos. The...somewhat failing in other parts of the world fight against Chaos. Briefly, he wondered how his old circle was faring. Deacon occasionally sent him emails about what bad things had happened since he was gone.
Cassian’s brows raised slightly when Mehtab offered him a different introduction. There was a small pause before he started to laugh...and laugh...he half leaned his face against the back of his hand as his shoulder shook. It lasted a good minute before he perked up again. Cassian ran his hand through his hair.
“Minchir of Day.”
That was the joke. Day and Night, sitting at a table together. “I also make people go blind. Leave them with sunspotty vision too.” Which was great when people weren't expecting it. “Usually I use it to leave an opening for someone else to attack, but…” that hadn't gone so well last night. “I'm used to running with a group.”
Cassian gave Mehtab a slightly tilted stare when he said he was ‘cute’. “17. I'm still trying to decide what I'll tell my mother. I had some missed calls before I wrecked my phone to have the ‘broken phone’ excuse. Now I just need the ‘where were you and why’.”
Aka I am so grounded unless I come up with something good.
----
There was a slow smile filtering over his face as Cassian told him his other name.
“Now this is some cosmic fate level s**t.” Day and Night, just two dudes eating breakfast after fighting, (and running from), evil. He kept smiling, taking another bite of his food as his guest talked. If he'd fought in a group but was by himself that would have explained somethings. You didn't tend to go it alone unless you had an escape plan.
“That's pretty cool though, I usually just make sure people aren't being eaten. Youma tend to give up on people when you make yourself the better dinner option.” Not that his method was good, rather it was pretty suicidal. Mehtab didn't like to think about it much.
Fork tapping the plate, he hummed, looking around the apartment. “... Don't tell her I brought you here passed out okay? I mean, technically, that's illegal and uh.” Bashfully, he glanced to a shelf, bong in clear view.
“Could tell her you got lost? The busses stop running at 11 and unless you're loaded, cabs are expensive. Could also tell her you hooked up.” Mehtab said it with a straight face sincerity.
“That's what my brother did and usually got my mom to stop fussing. Mad, but not pissed. Plus she didn't find out he'd been drunk so... Lesser of two evils or something.”
-----
“A little bit. Guess you can say you uh….saved the day?” Cassian joked. Oh man, that was actually a pretty good pun, if he thought so himself.
It sounded like Mehtab was a bit more lax than Cassian was used to, however. He just lured things away? That was so….ehhhh…”Where I'm from, we kinda have to go for the kill unless we want to die.” Cassian admitted. He'd really done his best to not vomit the first time he'd seen Deacon snap someone’s neck. It was small differences. They had never really added up in the little time he'd been up to it.
“I don't even know where here is, but I already have to explain my shirt smelling like weed. So either I need a really good story, or I need some baking soda and a quick wash to clear it out.” Baking soda was amazing. Second only to hydrogen peroxide for blood (Sylvia had given the group that tip and Reqet had seconded it…...they sure knew a lot about blood for girls!)
“Lost is a start though. Hell, I got lost my first day here before I knew mom was going to move us overseas.” he ruffled his hair with a hand and sighed. “Maybe I'll get a cop to give me a ride home so she'll be so concerned a cop had to bring me home she won't be mad.”
Because that'd work, maybe?
----
Mehtab had been mid-delivery of fork to mouth when Cassian had made the pun. Fork and egg dropped back to the plate as Mehtab began to cackle loudly into the otherwise empty apartment. <******** that’s great.” He kept laughing, and if he hadn’t been fully awake then, he certainly was now. After his laughter abated, Mehtab leaned back, smiling at Cassian. This was a good guy. Cook man, joke man- a good swell dude.
“You’re from out of the states? You have like, this tiny accent I don’t know but then I speak Arabic so whatever. I’m bad at killing. Don’t have the stomach for it past youma. Dust is okay but blood... “ He shook his head. “Too violent. I get it, but killing crazy people isn’t my jam.”
He didn’t touch the last bits of egg. In the back of his head, it was a waste of food, but dead people did that to an appetite.
“I have febreze.” He stated, as if that would be enough. “But if you want a quick wash that’s fine. Detergent smells like lavender though. Might also want a shower but, your choice. Doesn’t bother me none.” He spoke casually, shoulders shrugging at the offered options.
“Let me just drive you. No offense, but a cop showing up here wouldn’t be great. Plus in Destiny City they’re extra jumpy. Plus the bus system is shitty and overpriced.”
He looked at Cassian for a second.
“My car doesn’t smell like weed if you’re wondering. I may indulge, but I’m not stupid.”
----
“Greece, so not far from where you’re talking,” Cass nodded. “My dad is from state-side and works in translation, so maybe that's why I don't have a strong accent.” if he hadn't wanted to boast, he'd confess he actually spoke a few languages because of his father’s work.
“Febreeze isn't going to cut it, baking soda and a shower probably will be enough.”
The scented stuff didn't eliminate odors as much as people wanted it to. It covered it up temporarily, but he'd still have his mother doing his laundry and she'd smell it eventually. Safe rather than sorry.
“Well, I'll just walk to a police station and let them drive me home. I would have to explain you to my parents if you were the one who dropped me off.”
Namely a ‘Who was that man and why didn't he bring you home sooner?’ line of questioning.
“You can walk me to a station if you want to help.”
---
Mehtab gave a nod, picking up his plate and depositing it in the sink.
“I’ll clean it later.” He said, if to make up for any perception that he was simply a slob. (Just mildly, given how half his spice rack was still sitting half scattered on the counter and how he still had water cups on the living room table).
“We’ll wash clothes first, so after shower you're not in temporary weed smelling shirt or whatever. While you wait-” He wandered off to his room, returning a minute later with a shirt with the doritos logo on it in neon green and a pair of sweat shorts.
“This is all I got that would probably fit you. Smells less like weed too.” It was more musty in a borderline unpleasant way that was reminiscent of clothes left too long in a bottom drawer. Setting them down on the table, Mehtab looked around for a while before shrugging. “My phone is around here somewhere if you want to call your mom. Again, I don’t mind, just whatever you think is best. I’d like to walk you to the station if that’s cool. Seems dumb if I save the day only for the day to get mugged or something.”
He stopped again, pausing.
“.... Sorry if I’m coming off as bossy. Don’t usually save people and have to bring them home. New territory? It’s weird.” He muttered. “Being a space hero is so weird.”
----
“Being a space hero is very weird,” Cassian agreed easily, not really hesitating in peeling his pot-smelling shirt off when Mehtab offered the dorito-shirt instead. Outside of a scar that went from his mid-back around to his chest and his lack of any impressive musculature, his shirtlessness wasn't very impressive.
Though he obviously wasn't shy, switching out his pants without asking Mehtab to turn around either. It ultimately wasn't much to look at.
“Yeah, I don't think calling my mom off your phone would go over well…..also I'm a bad son and haven't gotten either of my parents’ new number here stateside down yet…” the broken phone in his pocket probably would have been better off not broken now that it came to trying to figure out his way home…..
In fact, he could only barely remember where his mom worked. Uh oh. Uh oh.
“I guess after cleaning up the police department it is. I'm not even sure what my address is. I know it's over by one of the colleges, but…”
Shoot.
----
To his credit Mehtab didn’t stare and politely turned around, only facing back when the sound of rustling clothes had ended. The temporary clothes were working for their intended purpose so they had that going for them so far. Taking the weed scent laden shirt and pants, Mehtab rolled them up and listened to the younger man speak, nodding to his conclusions.
“Super new to the nation.” He said with a sigh.
“That sucks. You got any cash? They’ll probably have you be babysat at the station while they hunt down your folks so might miss lunch. Provided, your folks aren’t the types to call you in missing after 8 hours. If they did that then uh-” The situation suddenly took a drastic turn.
“s**t.” Swallowing, Mehtab check the clock on the wall then, getting next to the front window, peered out briefly and relaxing quickly after. No cops doing the rounds just yet.
“Uh- if your folks did call you in don’t mention me yeah? Not by name anyway. Less police want to talk to me and come by my place the better. I’ve been almost arrested enough times at rallies and marches for a few cops to give me a stink eye.” He looked back to assure.
“Politics. Civil rights mostly. I haven’t hurt anyone but yes, I have set a dumpster on fire but just once and I never plan to again. It smells worse than a bad bud.”
It was all a bit odd to have another senshi in his house, and he wasn’t sure how you entertained a guy who was probably making his folks have a panic attack.
“I’ll throw these in the wash. Take about 15 to get the smell out. 15 to quick dyy-” He paused to check the tags. No warning about high heat, they’d survive the dryer.
“Meantime, what do you wanna do?”
-----
At least Mehtab was more polite than the boy stripping in his kitchen. Which wasn't too bad, at least.
“I….hmm, if I have any money it's in my pocket…..” which meant he probably wanted to empty his pant pockets before they went in the wash. A few receipts and a crumpled piece of lined paper, definitely no money.
He couldn't help but give Mehtab a half-stare as he mentioned a small history with the police. “My mother definitely wouldn't approve of that sort of history. “Is setting a dumpster on fire really the right way to go about civil rights? I mean…” oh boy, he was sounding like he was a little kushy with his own rights.
“I mean, it seems like your opinions and rights get undermined when people use radical actions as an example of why you don't deserve them.”
It wasn't really a debate he wanted to have.
“I dunno. Watch TV or something?” he suggested as a time filler. Not much else to do in the meantime.
--
If Mehtab hadn’t seemed focused on Cassian before, he certainly did now, eyes darting to him and sizing him up. Political discourse was not so easily dismissed. Not in that house.
Cassian had opened a terrible door.
“America was founded of riots and telling the ruling government to ******** itself. Peaceful protests are s**t sometimes you know? Sure, helps when you start, but after years you need to just look the establishment in the eye, set a dumpster on fire, and sing a bunch of rock songs at 2 am on a thursday night downtown. It’s the kind of s**t this country was founded on.” He walked down the hall, opening a side door to the washer and dryer.
“It’s easy to turn a blind eye when all a person does is picket. But you want real change, you gotta fight for it. It’s like being a magic fighter from space. Pretty sure monsters and the negaverse won’t just start respecting us if we ‘peacefully’ protested. I mean, I tried but after I got almost stabbed that option kind of left the table.”
Clothes in the washer, the timer was set with a ding and he came back, looking mildly disappointed.
“Besides, it was only ONE dumpster fire, usually I just yell and chant like everybody else” Mehtab’s voice was back to the mellow calm tone as before, whatever wind he’d had in his sailed for the brief moment gone. He motioned to Cassian’s plate.
“You done? I can wash the dishes, and I think my TV is still set to auto load netflix so.” He shrugged.
“My only request is we don’t watch the last Sense8 episodes. I’m not caught up yet.”
---
Oh boy.
Oh boy.
“Hi, Greek born here. I know absolutely s**t about your history. I'm just saying, there's a difference between forcefully getting what you want and being terroristic about it. Especially when most political systems don't negotiate with terrorists.”
Unless they were white men denying their government and taking over political buildings. Hmmm, oh well.
Cassian looked down at the plate in question. “Yeah, for now I'm done.” he relented, not letting Mehtab take his plate and instead going to rinse it off himself. Ha! He was a responsible guest, cleaning up after himself!!
“I haven't watched anything on Netflix, so I don't know what this new show of yours is. I'll see what's on, though.”
As Mehtab set up the wash, Cassian turned on the TV. Two profiles: Mehtab and High Mehtab.
Okay then, buddy.
He selected the normal profile and began to scroll through options before starting the first episode of Supernatural.
---------
Fair enough Cassian.
Fair enough.
Discourse let to die, Mehtab pouted as Cassian did his own dishes. Polite sure but dang it Mehtab was the host here. Let a man be a good host. Or try to at any rate. Dishes done, he wandered over and stood behind Cassian, the show’s main theme starting.
“I’m going to change. Be back in a bit.”
He took 10 minutes but when he came back, he was dressed somewhat respectably, and brushed his hair. Before he sat down however, he opened a window and the sliding glass door of the patio.
“Figure you’d prolly want fresh air. Don’t usually have company aside from well-” He bobbed his head up and down. ‘One night stands’ wasn’t a thing you discussed with strangers really.
“Do you like it here at least? Destiny City I mean, youma and the negaverse aside.”
---
Hey, he cleaned up pretty nicely when he wasn't tired. Cassian smoothed a hand through his hair and hid his face behind his arm to keep from looking for too long. Not that older man (or younger man) usually prompted a little heat in the face, but….
Cassian leaned over the back of the couch to inhale the fresh air wafting in from outside. Oh man, he hadn't realized how much he enjoyed fresh air until he'd been breathing in weed air for long enough.
It didn't smell bad, but it smelled stuffy.
“Aside from….?” Cassian trailed along after him, nodding his head slightly, but not pursuing the thought as Mehtab changed topics on him. Unsavory company? Fun company that wasn’t for 17 year old kids? A shame, really. Oh well. He just shrugged his shoulders.
“I don't know. I miss home. I miss my team. I miss my friends.” he worried about them a little bit. Cassian may have been fearless, but he wasn't heartless. Feelingless.
It was a complicated feeling.
“School is going ok. The house is ok…. People, not sure yet.”
--
Huh. Mehtab looked at the guy he’d brought home, this time, taking a moment to properly size him up. He didn’t seem a big fighter type, and he was… well he was small. Smaller than Mehtab anyway. Plus, from last night and his own admission, he wasn’t super strong. Yet, he’d implied his powers existed before coming to the city.
Good to know it wasn’t just one town with crazy talking cats at any rate.
“I can get that. Moving is hard. Leaving people behind is sometimes like cutting off your hair. Its weird, kind of uncomfortable, but it grows back. You feel me?” It probably wasn’t a great or even logical example but it made sense to Mehtab just fine.
“What school you going to?” He stared. “It’s not Hillworth is it? You don’t seem the law breaking rebellious type. Aside from the whole senshi thing. As far as people go though, that’s a toss up.” He sat next to Cassian, stretching out his legs to rest on the coffee table.
“People are kind of the same, no matter where you go.”
----
“It’s different from that. I’ve abandoned them in a way, but I figure by the time I turn 18 I’ll have saved up enough to move back and help them...if things don’t go south first.”
Which now that he had said it out loud, meant everything was going to go south. Cassian ruffled his hair with both hands and tried to not frown, but it was extremely hard. He felt like the No-fear-One-fear shirt meme. Only the middle shirt said ‘Your entire team is going to die because you were gone’. Sure, all he could have done was blinded people, but Deacon had relied on him to be in the middle of everything. He sunk into the couch as he overthought, then leaned back.
“Gods, I just….we were a team and I had to leave them. It’s like I just cut off one of each of our arms and maybe we’ll find a surgeon to put it back on. Hell, I lost two arms. I can’t even patrol by myself. I’m used to someone being there to step in once I’ve blinded everybody.”
For a moment, it seemed like he’d worked himself into such a tizzy he wasn’t going to answer the question about his school. However, Cassian decided to force the subject change. It was going to be the only way he calmed himself when he still needed to prepare what he was going to tell his mother. “Sovereign Heights Prep. My mom’s idea. Thinks I need to go into Culinary School...as though there’s anything they can teach me that I don’t already know.” he went to pull out his phone, frowned, then set it down. Oh yeah, he’d broken that.
“I mean, s**t, I have a Youtube channel for cooking. I am working on publishing a cooking book.” he threw his hands up in the air. “Cooking school…” he frowned.
“C o o k i n g S c h o o l.”
-------------
Mehtab looked at Cassian and with a heavy sigh, he shook his head.
“You can’t abandon someone if you never had a choice to start with. If they’re your friends, they would have understood that. Least, that’s my take on it.”
Mehtab’s gaze went to the ceiling, eyes trying to discern shapes in the patterns. It was pointless, but it was better than staring at his guest. His cute, obviously not having a great moment guest. The man didn’t know how to comfort him, and frankly, had never been part of a team so he didn’t know how to really relate.
“Adapting is what teams do. Until you can find a solid team, I’ll help you.” Mehtab said it firmly, as if it wasn’t a matter of if Cassian wanted. Mehtab simply would.
With the switch of topic, Mehtab’s head rolled to look at Cassian once more. Licking his lips, Mehtab looked up, the ding of the laundry sending him up to throw things in the dryer. A dryer sheet added for freshness, he didn’t want Cassian to get in trouble for weed stink. Returning, he looked once more at the smaller man.
“Show me.” Pulling his own phone, he tossed it to Cassian before sitting right next to him.
“I’ll sub you. That's what gets you like, the money and s**t right? If you make a book and the stuff is as good as the eggs-” He grunted, making sure he was close enough so they’d both see the screen.
“Come on, show me the tubes.”
--------
Cassian failed to catch the phone, the device hitting his hands and then falling to the floor. The brunet looked after it before leaning down to pick it up sheepishly. After unlocking if, he paused to eyeball the man’s wallpaper choices. Yet he said nothing, navigating thru a few apps (was he snooping?) before opening YouTube and typing in his handle.
“I actually get money from views. Going through and watching everything means a bit more than subs. Subs get me attention which is how I got my book deal and my grant.” the grant he was going to use to start his own little small scale food business. He still needed to work out some kinks, though.
Once he had his channel open (his avatar was a cartoon unicorn with a chef hat), he offered the phone back to Mehtab.
“The eggs are fairly basic. I'm playing with a baked chicken alfredo and a shrimp quesadilla recipe at the moment.” he said, “In case you wanted a sneak peek at what next week’s videos will entail.”
-------------
“Ah, cool. I’ll watch em on a playlist later then.” Draping an arm over Cassian, Mehtab didn't seem to grasp how close he was or that he might be invading personal space. If anything he smelled less like weed up close and more like cologne.
“Cute icon.” He muttered before the video started, blue eyes watching it, occasionally letting out a hum and ‘Oh’ and ‘Huh’. When the video ended, Mehtab grinned and finally backed off the smaller man.
“You’re better in person. You should do livestreams. Do you cook at a studio? At home? Do you want to cook here? Have you ever made edibles?” His questions came in waves, and he was genuinely interested.
“At least do the shrimp tacos here. That’s perfect craving food. I’ll even buy the stuff. If you cook good as eggs like-” Mehtab was grinning.
“Seafood is the best food. You see it, then you eat it.”
----
Hooo boy, this guy was up close now and Cassian tried to not get too good of a look at his face now that it was so close. For how semi-tired he seemed to be, Mehtab was a handsome man. Be still his little heart. He’d just ignore the good-smelling handsome man for a moment. At least physically. Instead, he waited patiently through the wave of questions.
“I cook at home, my parents don’t cook so the kitchen is mine and they know it. I could cook here but I’d need to clean things up a bit to be on par with my other videos for consistency’s sake, I have never even had weed so no, I haven’t made edibles.” which basically meant he’d just avoid all the dubious baked goods that may have been found in the apartment.
“And they’re Quesadillas, not tacos. You cut the shrimps in half lengthwise so they kinda look butterfly-esque, fry ‘em up in a mix of seasonings, and it’s the cheese mix I’m still deciding on. There’s so many good ones, I know it needs to be a white cheese, but I’m not sure if I should go something hotter like a pepperjack, or if I should mix something and cream cheese and…” he started to mutter under his breath at a mile a minute through his thought process before suddenly stating:
“Shrimp and Cream Cheese Taquitos.”
Informative.
“I can always do my test runs of the Quesadilla here, if you’d like to be a taste tester.”
------
As the bell for the drying gave its 5 minute remaining mark, Mehtab crawled over Cassian, once more invading the man's space and putting them into a semi-precarious position.
“Don’t tease me like this. If it's got seafood I gotta have it. That’s like- better than sex or me. Almost. Its above basic buds I guess. It's just really up there on stuff I love.”
Pulling back, he jumped off the couch, looking to the kitchen.
“I can clean for next time you’re over. You- well if you think you could cover it from your folks I can get some extract for making an edible. You can't bake without ever having BEEN baked. Or.. something like that. Whatever, yeah man, let me taste test for you.”
Mehtab leaned on the back of the couch, looking up and down Cassian.
“Hot sauce.” He said with a sudden nodd.
“Add some hot sauce to cottage cheese, not like that pansy mexican stuff at taco bell like the REAL fire roasted stuff that have ratings. Be dank.”
Then- “So, when do we want to have this date?”
----
Cassian leaned back as Mehtab leaned in closer. Stranger danger! He frowned briefly. “I’m not teasin’. I’m just saying it’s a work in progress…” he stated, half-glancing down the hallway where his laundry was almost done. All this laundry and he hadn’t showered yet. “I’m not really gonna film a video here. I have a really...serious set-up and it’s hard to take it on the go.” That and he liked having his space and had this feeling that Mehtab’s face would linger near the counter the entire time, eyes slowly peeking up over the counter.
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM, WATCHUMAKIN?
“Cottage cheese? But a hot sauce…” Cassian got an interested look on his face. “I bet a habanero cream cheese would be good with some pepper jack.” he thought. “I can’t say I know much about hot sauce. I was given a bottle of something called ‘Mad Dog’ before I moved, but I haven’t used it…”
He purposely left the edible comment alone.
“How about, after I take that shower we said I was going to, we plan a day. You gotta plan it all up or I’ll plan something in it’s place.” he shrugged as he got up off the couch and peered down the hallway.
“Which room is the bathroom?”
----
“Fair enough. Test kitchen or whatever. Wait, you prefer I go to your place? EH, we’ll figure it out.” Waving his hand in the air, Mehtab smiled, pointing down the hall.
“Bathroom is second door on the right. Towels are in top cabinet. I have potpourri with em so they shouldn’t smell like weed. No smoking in the bathroom, that's a rule. Shampoo and other junk is in the shower, take your pick on whatever smells best.”
He had several body washes Cassian would discover, many of them herbal or lemon scented.
“I’ll put your clothes on a chair outside the door.While you get de skunk’d I’ll do some brainwork for our date.”
----
“Well yeah. My dad and I are the only ones home most of the day and if you’re into language stuff, he’s a guy to talk to. He knows like 12 of them. Does translation s**t all day.” mostly manuscripts. Sometimes legal documents. Sometimes transcripts. So much translating. He made hella good money, though. “So really if you’re chill with hangin’ with the old man a little, he won’t bother us. Mom’s the only one who’ll care.”
Because mom was high strung.
“Alright, down the hall, second door. I guess I’ll see you in a bit.” he would have waved but he was just changing rooms, really, and well…
A shower and clean clothing was going to be amazing. Then, they’d figure out this ‘date’....and Cassian would figure out how he was going to get out of deep s**t with his mom.
It’d probably be a really long shower.
In the Name of the Moon!
A Sailor Moon based B/C shop! Come join us!
