exit smiling

May. 7, 2012 at 11:22pm with 17 notes

purls-of-lizdom asked: PROMPT: Ted and Booster go out for breakfast after pulling an all-night stakeout.

ehehehehe

I’m uh

sorry for this

—————

“And for what?” Booster told his breakfast. “Two days in your disgusting Honda Civic for one picture of a lady that might be funding this project putting an envelope in a mailbox —”

“It was important!”

“It wasn’t.” Booster twisted his mouth into a scowl. Ted had hoped that ordering the giant pancake with a bacon mouth and whipped cream eyes would make him feel better, but Booster just kind of deformed it beyond the point of recognition. “You just wanted to impress Oracle.”

“Happy side effect,” Ted said, and filled his mouth with scrambled eggs to stall for a few seconds. He really had no idea what to say when Booster got sulky, especially if Happy Pancakes didn’t even cheer him up.

“Hey. What’s wrong?”

“Why did I have to waste two days of my precious time in your gross car to impress a girl?” he said. He smashed a whipped cream eye with the back of his fork and spread it over the pancake, which now looked like it’d been in a rather serious accident.

“Because you want to fight for truth, and justice and everything,” Ted said. “You know.” He cut himself a neat triangle from the side of the pancake’s face and speared it off the plate. “Hero shit.”

“Is not. ‘S stupid shit, maybe,” Booster said. He prodded the bacon so the pancake’s mouth was more or less vertical.

“You need to decide if you’re my petulant child or my jealous passionate lover,” Ted said, sitting back. He eyed his plate (eggs, and some fruit, and some oatmeal, like a good boy) and the pancake on his fork. “Because I’m kinda getting both vibes from you right now.”

“Just don’t see why I’ve gotta be the one who does this with you,” Booster said. “I mean — it’s not, it isn’t fair — “

“I bought you breakfast, didn’t I?” Ted said.

“You bought me creepy-ass smiling pancakes,” he said, “That’s what you did. Sociopath pancakes do not a boring stakeout justify.” He stabbed the bacon and started to sort of gnaw on it out half his mouth.

“Hm.” Ted shrugged, and touched his foot to Booster’s, under the table. “Yeah. My bad. Just didn’t want to be alone.” He set down his fork. “Won’t happen again.”

“…right.” Booster tore off a chunk of bacon, swallowed, and stared at Ted very carefully. “Yeah. Yeah, it won’t.”

“And I guess you wouldn’t want to — I dunno, never mind,” he said. He drew his foot carefully up Booster’s calf, over a ridge of muscle that twitched, stopping at the dip of his knee. Ted crossed one leg over the other but kept his toes where they were.

“What.” Booster was staring — pretty intently, now.

“Well, I was gonna stay up tonight, just go through some video footage, listen to music, you know…” he shrugged. “…alone. In the Bug.” He sighed. “With the swivel chair. Guess I’ll have to amuse myself.”

He started to draw his foot back, but then there were warm fingers around his ankle — not pulling, exactly, not forceful, but insistent as hell.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” Booster growled, and leaned forward.