Five Minute Ficcage
Summary: Glen Murray, Mathieu Schneider, 5 minutes.
Lira's ASG challenge
White and red.
He swallowed his bagel slathered in cream cheese and strawberry jelly. He could feel its roughness, the saltiness twang of the cream cheese work its way down his throat. The jelly didnít help slide it down; it just seemed to coat his throat in a sticky substance that made his throat want to close up. His tongue didnít help. It was heavy in his mouth and his mind was flashing images of sand. His mouth had never been more dry.
And yet he couldnít stop eating.
It was just so good.
He took another bite, chewed, then swallowed. He curled his lips up into a sticky grin.
He licked his lips and nearly gagged at the sickly sweetness.
This wasnít so enjoyable anymore.
And damn that fucker for drinking the last of the milk.
Oh, I only grabbed one carton of milk at the store. You donít mind if I have it, right?
He hadnít. Mathieu had gone out of his way to run down to the store, buy the bagels, cream cheese, jelly, and milk, and all to surprise him with a midnight breakfast to celebrate the victory at the All Star Game.
And now they were eating and Mathieu had finished his bagel off with a carton of milk, and Glen was choking on the deadly concoction Mathieu had created when they played together, and roomed together, in L.A.
Mathieu handed him a glass of water, probably surmising from his expression that he was about to die from a) the bagel lodged in the back of his throat, b) the cream cheese blocking his air way, or c) the sweet stickiness clamping his lips together.
Their hands touched momentarily and Glenís stomach constricted like his throat.
He gulped the water down, watching Mathieu over the rim of the glass. Watching Mathieu watching him watching Mathieu.
He licked his lips and drew in a deep breath. He murmured something along the lines of thanks for the breakfast, and then he made his move.
He kissed Mathieu in the warm and yellowed confines of his hotel room. He tasted like cream cheese and jelly, and slightly of home. He sighed against his lips and didnít open his eyes until Mathieu pulled back.
ďMidnight breakfast again in March,Ē Mathieu asked, although it was more like a statement.
Glen smiled. ďIíll bring the milk.Ē