Work Text:
The clatter of pans and boiling water filled the small, single-room apartment, warming it from its core out. A man moved around the kitchen, gracefully taking care of everything himself while his friend glared daggers into his back.
“Let me help.” She insists, crossing her arms over her red shawl. She’s always loved red, it’s been her favorite color for as long as she can remember. Her childhood had been red, red as blood IVs, red like sweaters in the winter, red like a scraped knee or - red like a stovetop where her best friend cooked.
Which she disapproved of greatly.
BigB chuckles, waving her off. “No, you’re my guest, dear Pearl. I’d never let you cook for me in my own home.”
Pearl rolls her eyes, leaning her chin on her hand. “You never had a problem with it in college.” She grumbles quietly, earning herself another offended laugh. “Hey, I couldn’t cook back then. You make me sound so helpless.” he says, sticking his tongue out at her from across the room. “Besides, I’m different now. I’ve learned. Matured, even.”
“You?”
“Hey!”
The duo break into helpless giggles. It takes the cook timer going off at an incessant rate to drag BigB back into this world to turn it off.
“Never a dull moment with you, huh B?” Pearl wheezes, dragging her fingers through her long brown hair to fix it. They’ve been best friends since she found that scared boy hovering at the back of class during college orientation, and as they say, the rest is history. Years later, and BigB lives just across the hall from her now, and they get to have meet ups like this all the time. She wouldn’t have it any other way, if you asked her. “You know it.” He replies, breathless.
A while later, the food is finally done and the two find themselves eating on the couch and watching some random show Pearl put on. It was a nature documentary series focused mainly around wolves, because why not. She loved wolves, and she knew BigB couldn’t argue with them. Though, maybe the documentary she picked wasn’t the greatest.
“They keep saying the same things over and over again.” She observes, twirling her fork between her fingers. BigB’s cooking has improved in recent years, she’ll admit. Has he been practicing? He hums. “Yeah, and half of it isn’t even accurate. You think they got any actual wolf scientists on this?”
She snorts. “Nah. Anything for the views, though, right? Let’s change it.” She grabs the remote and flips through the channels until some new action movie is playing, and they get to spend the rest of the night complaining about the poor acting and bursting into giggles when the station goes out all together.
“Wow, even the tv hated it.” She says, shaking her head, trying to get herself together. She stands up and takes her and B’s plates to the kitchen, much to the latter’s complaint. “I never asked you to-”
“No need to thank me,” She says, waving him off with a slightly cheeky grin, before disappearing into the kitchen. She hears him sigh and follow her a moment later. Truth be told, she likes helping out. He’s her best friend, after all, and he got to cook. She should be useful by cleaning the dishes at the very least.
No, be helpful, she corrects herself mentally. Helpful, not useful. She sets the plates in the sink and turns on the water, watching it run for a moment before she takes the sponge and begins to clean the dishes of debris.
“I’ll never understand you.” BigB sighs, sitting up on the counter next to the sink to watch her work. “So stubborn.”
“You signed up for this when you agreed to be my friend.” She hums pleasantly.
BigB’s phone rings from the other side of the room, where he had left it to cook. He looks over at it. “Ah. That must be Scar. Sorry Pearl, do you mind-?”
She shakes her head. “Of course not. I’m not doing anything interesting anyway. Pick up the phone.”
Scar taps his foot on the ground, sitting alone in his empty apartment and looking over papers. Papers, papers, papers. It’s all what it comes down to. The beginnings of ideas, the ending of good things, all coming down to something as thin as a piece of paper.
He rubs his eyes, glancing at the clock on the wall. Almost bedtime and he’s still not done. Work has run him dry lately, he’s gonna need the concert of a lifetime to charge him back up.
He’s actually been saving some points on his ticket app, he wonders if it’s enough for a local performance, at least…
He needs to finish work before that, though. He looks back down at the blueprints, seeing the lines blur a little when he blinks. Or maybe not. He leans back onto the couch, dropping his pen on the coffee table. Not tonight. He’ll need to find someone else to finish these building plans, the due date is too soon for him on his own.
He manages to find his phone laying around somewhere between the couch cushions, opening it and finding his contacts app. He scrolls through it. Coworker, coworker, coworker, manager, coworker. Wow. He really has no friends. He finds his most-contacted number and presses the call button, listening to it ring. After a moment, the man on the other side picks up.
“Scar?”
“Hey B. Sorry to bother you so late.” Scar says. Maybe he should have waited until tomorrow. It is pretty late.
“Don’t worry about it, I’m wide awake anyway. What’s up?”
Scar sighs quietly. “That’s a relief. I was wondering if you could help me with these blueprints, they assigned it to me way too late and I can’t get it done in time."
“Sure, drop them off in my office tomorrow and we can talk. See you then?”
“Yeah, sounds good. Have a good night, BigB, thanks a million.”
“Of course, anytime, Scar.”
The line goes dead.
He sets the phone down and rolls up the papers to drop near his work bag. This is a problem for tomorrow, now.
When everything is organized and put away, he grabs his cane and makes his way into the bedroom.
The silence of the apartment settles over him the moment he lays down.
He’s lonely.
He’ll have to suck it up for now. He doesn’t have time for romance junk anyway, when he’s trying to focus on keeping a new job right out of college.
Though, it might not hurt to meet someone now and then.
That’s another problem for tomorrow.
He rolls over and closes his eyes.