Fic: Wait

Jul. 8th, 2017 12:07 am
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Sean looks down into the mug that Orlando hands him with something like disdain. Orlando pointedly ignores it and sits down at the kitchen table opposite of Sean again. The usual early evening audible backdrop comes in from the open door of Mirkwood House's common kitchen. Sean gets a satchel of sugar from his shirt pocket and rips it open.

'Someone ever told you that it's impolite to have your guests bring their own sugar?' he asks as he pours said sugar into his mug.

Orlando, leaned back on his chair, legs crossed at the ankles, peers at him over the rim of his own mug.

'If you keep complaining, you're gonna have to bring your own tea bags as well.'

Sean gets up in order to fetch himself a spoon from the drawer which Orlando didn't provide.

'Might be the better choice. What I don't get is how you can drink that shit,' he gestures at the glass of Sainsbury's Rich Roast on the counter, 'when you have a decent coffee maker in your flat.'

Orlando makes an effort to slurp from his mug, so that Sean automatically turns around to give him a stern look. Orlando just returns it.

'I have that fancy thing because you gave it to me,' he says and before Sean can respond, he adds, 'And don't tell me again how expensive it was. I know you got it off Gumtree. Karl told me.'

Sean doesn't bother denying it, also he is a bit preoccupied searching the kitchen cabinet for a biscuit to go with his tea.

'I won't get you anything at all at next time at this rate.'

'Yeah, yeah,' Orlando replies, slurping.

Search completed successfully, Sean sits down at the kitchen table again.

'Why aren't we in your flat?' he asks. 'These chairs are quite uncomfortable.'

'Why are you here in the first place?' Orlando asks back. 'Except to complain, I mean?'

'Well, you – '

Sean undoubtedly witty reply is cut short by two first form girls, looking exactly the same, edging through the door. They don't interrupt but considering the kind of words Sean was about to describe Orlando, he falls silent in their presence anyway.

'Hi Mr Bean,' both of them say at the same time, and Sean raises his mug in greeting.

'Hi yourself. You had a good time in the last week?'

Both smile identical broad smiles and nod in sync.

'Mr Bettany made fashion with us,' says the left one and the right one zips open her hoodie to reveal a pink t-shirt that has slightly crooked hand-writing on it, reading “We accept the love we think we deserve”.

Sean smiles broadly and nods.

'That looks very nice.'

'Thank you, Mr Bean,' says one.

'What did you do this week?' asks the other.

'A historical reenactment of the Trojan war,' answers Sean.

Neither of the girls look like they know what he is talking about but nod earnestly.

'That sounds very nice,' says one.

'Mr Bloom, can we ask you something?' says the other.

Not really trying to hide his smile, Sean sips from his tea and looks back at Orlando.

Orlando has put his mug down on the table, his hand still curled around it. His eyes flicker to the clock mounted on the wall that shows the time as 6.45 p.m.

'Yeah, all right,' he says.

Both girls beam at him, then turn on their heels and scuttle off.

Amused, Sean bites a chunk off his biscuit.

'What was that about?'

'They wanna watch “”Horrible Histories”, it starts in fifteen minutes.'

'”We accept the love we think we deserve”?' Sean quotes the girl's t-shirt. 'Now, that's an interesting choice for a fashion item, don't you think?'

'You mean wearing your heart on your sleeve got replaced by wearing it on your chest?'

Sean chuckles but shakes his head.

'Nah, it's just easier said than done, isn't it? Not your average “Love is everywhere” slogan that you usually find on t-shirts.'

Orlando sips from his coffee, regards Sean critically.

'Did you just quote “Caught in the Act” at me?'

With the fingers that he just licked clean of crumbs, Sean gives Orlando a two-fingered salute.

'The week was okay, don't you think?' Orlando asks after a moment, ignoring the insult.

'Aye, it did,' Sean confirms.

They drink in silence, and Sean watches how Orlando brings his mug up to his lips thrice even though it is already empty and his eyes keep glancing at the clock on the wall.

Sean takes the mug from him and puts it in the dishwasher, and while he is there, he helps himself to another biscuit and puts the kettle on again. The water is almost boiling when again, someone appears in the doorway, and this time Sean knows who it is – blue hair, seventeen; Emma Redding.

'Hiya, Mr Bean,' she says but looks at Orlando, her expression somewhere between apprehensive and sullen.

'Went all right?' Orlando asks.

Emma lifts one shoulder, purses her lips.

'Yeah, I guess. She wants to see me again next week, though.'

Orlando nods.

'Good,'

Emma stands there, her shoulder still somewhat raised. Orlando looks at her. Sean looks between the both of them. The kettle boils.

'Good night, Emma.' Orlando prompts, the minimal arching of his brows acting as a send off.

'Bye Mr Bean,' says Emma as she turns around and walks off.

Sean pours water into his mug, then leans against the kitchen counter.

'I sent her to counseling because of Wednesday, and she was there again just now,' Orlando explains after a moment.

'Peace restored for the time being?'

'You know as much as I do, mate.'

Orlando frowns at the crumbs that Sean's biscuit left on the table, then abruptly gets up and his facial expression is back to neutral.

'Are you taking this with?' he asks and points at Sean's mug as he walks towards the door. '”Emmerdale” is on in a few.'
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