Morning. He was on the couch, reading the paper. Well, not so much reading the paper as trying to decipher the blurred words on the page. Beer in hand he continued to stare meaninglessly at the page until he felt something crawl over the back of the couch and take his hat off. He smelled tequila and…strawberries? Then he realized the thing he was smelling was smelling him.
"G'mornin' dere chief."
He gave the scruffy, extremely wild haired red-head a look.
"Why are you up so early?"
"Early? What time is it?"
"Nine thirty."
"Ooh, I dunno, jest wanted to see what you were up to." he managed to say between a yawn.
"Mm." Turning to face the sleepy green eyes he asked, "Why do you smell like strawberries?"
"I bought em. Why why why. Shhh." And he proceeded to plant a kiss on him.
He took a sip of his beer, at a loss for a different response. You never knew with Pickles. One day he'd sleep in until four, the next he'd be burning eggs in the kitchen at seven in the morning. He watched him put on his top hat (he'd forgotten he was wearing it.) and slowly twist himself from around his body and curl up more or less in his lap.
"Heey Tony?"
"Yeah?"
"I was thinkin', if this band thing never takes off, I'm okee with this."
He thought. "What do you mea-"
A snore silenced him. He looked at the boy sleeping on him. Fuck the paper. He made him self more comfortable and slept beside him.