Cold. Cold and hungry. The only two things Michael was feeling after an exhausting graveyard shift patrolling the streets of Lawrence, Kansas. He had decided to continue taking the new shift because it paid a little bit more than the regular ones and he always tended to be more of a night owl ever since he was a child. He could still remember staying up too late waiting for his Dad to come home and tuck him in because he had another nightmare about his Mom. No, not now. Don't think about it now. Plus, with the new shift, he could just be by himself without having to worry about a partner to protect or too many emergencies in the dead of night. Yes, that was it. He was just a night owl enjoying this opportunity. Cold. He was reminded after wandering around an area of town he hasn't been to in while. He remembers an all night diner is about a block away and after a dull night he definitely needs coffee and some hot oatmeal with brown sugar to rid of the chill in his bones.
Michael walks into the nearly deserted diner, with a small bell to signify his entrance, and takes a booth to the right and close to the back. Michael began to scan the medium-sized diner, looking first at the bar. There was a gruff, older man with a trucker hat nursing some coffee and scrambled eggs. A young brunette waitress in a mustard yellow and white uniform with a once-white, grease stained, apron donning her slim waist talking in a bored tone to a serious looking raven-haired cook with severely blue eyes that glanced at him and back to the girl. Lastly, he notices a younger male with a tan jacket and black hood cast over his short hair. Michael noticed a pair of earphone cords dangling from a rather narrow and delicate neck. Michael watched the man from two booths away; he was singing lowly and reading from what appeared to be a rather large anatomy textbook. A sudden rumble of sound from Michael's stomach pulled him out of his observations and he grabbed a menu to see if this diner had what he wanted.
Upon noticing his entrance, the waitress gave Michael a few moments to look at the menu before approaching him.
"Morning Officer. My names Eve and I'll be your server. What can I get one of our fine boys in blue at this God awful hour of night?" she asked in, what Michael assumed to be, a sultry tone and with a flip of her hair.
"A coffee, black and a bowl of oatmeal with some milk and extra brown sugar, please Eve." ordered Michael with a small, friendly smile.
"Coming right up!" Eve said as she leaned, a little too close, to grab his menu and walked away with a sway in her hips to tell the cook his order and get his coffee.
Michael watched as she sauntered back, not at all interested in the flirtatious waitress. It wasn't that she wasn't appealing and Michael acknowledged beauty when he saw it, but she just wasn't his type. Speaking of type, Michael's eyes went to wander back to the guy with the black hoodie, but noticed he was gone, book and all. He looked around the diner and didn't see him. Michael was again pulled from his thoughts of the stranger when the strong aroma of coffee and brown sugar filled his nostrils and possessed his ability to function. In fact, he was so preoccupied with his hunger that he hadn't noticed who had brought his food. He also didn't observe that said person moved to sit opposite him in the booth with what could quite possibly be the largest plate of bacon and pancakes Michael has ever seen.
Michael's eyes roamed up from the small feast to see who has forced their company on him, a maybe it's the brunette Eve, he would hate to have to turn down her company because so seemed nice aside from the obvious flirtation. His eyes widen when his sees shining blue eyes, with a hint of mischief in them, staring at him. Michael's gaze is uncontrolled as he looks further up and notices a head of dark-blonde hair with a few stray strands covering his impromptu guest's forehead. His visual exploration continues down to a slightly wide nose and then stopping to admire pale but not too pale pink lips that are now curling up to show a set of bright white teeth. A slight cough takes Michael out of his reverie and his cheeks flush lightly when he realizes that he's been quite clearly staring at the man. He opens his mouth to apologize or question what his guest was doing but was quickly interrupted.
"Your meal is going to get cold." spoke a voice deeper than Michael expected. He was at a loss for words only a moment more when he finally gathered himself and put on his usual mask of indifference when working.
"Thank you for my meal. I did not realize you worked here." He said, not at all mentioning the fact that this guy joined him for no reason he could interpret.
"Oh, I don't. Nah, you see that see that very serious chef behind the order bar?" His breakfast companion inquired while pointing towards the man in question.
Michael looked over to see the chef staring directly at him with a precise, unwavering gaze. He quickly diverted his attention back to the man across from him and said, "Yes, he seems rather intent on making his patrons feel uncomfortable."
He hears a light laughter from across him and again sees a shining genuine smile directed at him, making his stomach flutter and his cheeks flush a bit.
"Yeah, that's Cas. He's the owner and seeing as how he's my older brother's boyfriend, he's inclined to be protective of me." replied the man.
"Why would he need to protect you from a cop? If anything he would need to protect you from a heart attack, given what you're about to eat." said Michael as he began to mix the brown sugar and milk to his, now warm, oatmeal. Michael earns another laugh out of his remark and he decides that he like that sound. A lot.
"Yeah, well, a growing boy needs all the protein he can get." his guest says with a wink before covering his entire mountain of pancakes in syrup.
"You'll certainly be growing, all right. I'm just not sure which direction that will be." Michael jokes, before he realizes what just came out of his mouth. He takes a large gulp of coffee before daring to look back up expecting to see a grimace or a face of anger. Instead, he just sees that smile again, that smile that makes his stomach do stupid flips. He realizes he's smiling back before he could stop himself.
"I'm Adam." His guest states while reaching his hand over the table extending it for a handshake.
"Michael. Pleasure to meet you." he replies and reaches forward to shake Adam's warm hand. Their eyes are glued to each other and their hands linger a little bit longer than necessary before Michael hears the familiar sound of his radio screeching near his ear. He jolts his hand towards his radio, ready to respond if needed.
"We have a possible 5-87 near Hunters Hill Drive. Nearest available unit please investigate." spoke the slightly humored voice of Ellen, the late night dispatcher, his father's long time friend, and the closest thing to a mother Michael has ever had the ability to remember. Knowing that nature of this particular code, a possible naked citizen walking around in public, and knowing that no one would want to take it, he hears Ellen speak again.
"Come on Mikey, I know where you are. Tell me you'll take this one." she continued.
Michael notices Adam biting his lip to keep from laughing while he blushes again at the familiar use of a long hated nickname.
"Officer Cohen, responding. You owe me one El." he spoke into his radio.
"I won't owe you damn thing Mike, now get your ass on the job." she stated firmly, but Michael could hear fondness in her response. He smiled slightly and looked to Adam as he spoke into his radio for a last response, "I'm on it."
He was reaching to get his wallet when Adam spotted this and put his hand on Michael's upper arm to stop him.
"No need officer. This is on me." Adam declares with a playful smile. Michael's stomach flutters again. Damn it. Stop doing that.
"Please I insist." Michael offered but not moving at all because the hand on his arm was warm and comforting and rubbing him? Michael looks to where Adam's hand meets his arm and yes, Adam is indeed rubbing his thumbs slowly up and down his arm. However, just as soon as Michael notices this, the feeling is gone and he is left feeling somehow colder than before.
"No I insist. It'll give you a reason to come back and return the favor soon." Adam suggests with a slightly knowing smile and another wink that has Michael turning even redder than before.
Okay...two can play at that game.
Never one to be outdone, Michael stands up and stretches lifting his arms above his head and moving his pelvis slightly towards Adam's direction with a groan of satisfaction. Given the wide-eyed stare at his belt and slight pink tint to Adam's cheeks, Michael would say he's won that round. Also, never one to not be thorough, Michael puts his right hand behind Adam, who is now gazing up at him like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Michael leans in and without breaking eye contact steals a piece of bacon from Adam's plate and whispers, "Thank you for the breakfast Adam."
He then turns to exit the diner and smiles as he hears a stuttered 'You're welcome!' from Adam.
Michael braces himself for the cold and heads out to respond to the call as fast as he can before Ellen can yell at him.
As he walks, his mind is filled with thoughts of dark blonde hair, bright and striking blue eyes, a smile to light up a room, and a voice that brings with it warmth and laughter.
Shit. Michael thinks, I'm already in too deep.