bonding time.


Jack Hunter was not a particularly light sleeper.

However, only someone adept at dealing with loud sounds (maybe a mother with infant quintuplets) could ignore the sound that was reaching his ears. It sounded like...but no, it couldn't be. It sounded like someone was ringing a cowbell and yelling like Tarzan in his kitchen. That was ridiculous, though. He lived alone.

Except that Eric Matthews and his own (half) brother Shawn had moved in that day.

Jack groaned, and pressed a hand to his forehead. He stumbled out of bed and shuffled downstairs, barely able to keep his eyes open but vaguely perceiving that Shawn was also walking towards the kitchen. The kitchen, where Eric Matthews stood, clutching two empty taco shells, yelling at the top of his lungs, and gazing at the counter which (Jack realized in horror) was strewn with everything that had been in the fridge.

Well, besides that pudding. Where the heck had that come from?

"What is he doing?" Jack asked of himself, squinting as if that would bring Eric's purpose into clarity. He looked at the clock...two-thirty. Six hours before his first class.

Shawn ran a hand through his hair. "Eric has this thing about tacos. He probably got some crazy craving and realized he didn't have enough money to go out and buy one."

"Yeah, okay, but why is he yelling?"

Shawn shrugged. "Probably out of something." Eric paused for breath, and the other kid (or young man, Jack supposed he should be called by now) called, "Hey, Eric! What's the big deal?"

"Dude, we're out of cheese!"

Jack's hands instinctively reached over his ears, and he glanced nervously at the door. "God, I hope we don't get kicked out."

"See, we're out of cheese," Shawn said, as if it was the most reasonable explanation possible.

He glared. "You sure know a lot about his weird habits."

"Hey, he's Cory's brother. Eric's more my brother than you could be." Jack wasn't sure if Shawn actually meant this to be hurtful, but either way, the statement drew blood.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Eric interjected, waving a bottle of chocolate syrup. "Okay, so what if I put chocolate in there instead of cheese?"

"Go for it," Shawn said automatically.

Jack's lip curled. "That sounds disgusting."

A crunch. "It'sh actuallay really good," Eric said, eyes lighting up. "Sheriously, you guysh have to have one o' these things."

Shawn strode over and pulled out a stool. Jack followed, hesitantly. As soon as he took the other seat, though, his brother got up and moved to the other side of the counter. "Is there bread?"

"Uh, actually, I fed the bread to the fish," Eric replied, busily making himself another taco.

Jack glanced at the fish tank. "Eric, that's why we have fish food."

"Hey, even fish have to get tired of the same thing all the time. You'll just have to eat a taco shell, Shawny."

"Don't call me that," Shawn grumbled, grabbing a taco shell and returning to his stool.

"Aw, why not? Cor-Cor gets to call you that."

"I don't call him Cor-Cor!"

"Sure."

Jack was wrapped up in the thought of the possibility for spontaneous combustion due to roommate stupidity. He watched in silence as Shawn piled food onto his taco shell. Eric shoved a jar of pickles towards him. "No thanks, I'm not hungry."

"C'mon, chicks love pickles." Eric winked and shook the jar.

"Remember that time when that girl went out with me just because I was getting pickles on my Chubbie's burger?" Shawn ran his hand through his hair again. Jack wondered how long he could go without doing that (the longest he'd seen so far was approximately five minutes, and that was only because he was unpacking with both hands).

"Yeah, what was her name again?" Crunch.

"Uh...Julianna." Crunch crunch.

"I thought that was the crazy hat girl."

"No, that was Taylor."

"Oh yeah." Crunch.

"How can you stand this?" Jack said suddenly, standing up. "Don't get me wrong, I'm all about the ladies, but trying to differentiate between the...the mustard girl and the hat girl—"

"It was pickles," Eric corrected. "Dude, mustard is a total turnoff. No wonder you're single, huh?" Shawn and Eric laughed.

"You're freakin' insane!"

There was a short silence. Shawn gazed at the bite left of his taco. Eric seemed to be fixed on the fish. Jack was still steaming. Without full realization, he grabbed a taco shell, stuffed it with lettuce, meat, and peppers, drizzled it with chocolate syrup, and shoved it in his mouth.

He swallowed. "That...that's actually not bad."

Shawn just looked at him, then at Eric. "I think Jack's gone crazy," he said in an undertone.

"Well," Eric said, stretching, "I guess that means I can go back to bed."

"Yeah, we only need one crazy person in this apartment. Any more, and they'll ship us off to New Zealand or something."

"New Zealand?" Jack asked.

Shawn replied on his way up the stairs, "Yeah, I've heard Europe is big on prisons."

Eric watched him go with pity. "And that, children, is why you don't skip school. Those of us who attended Mr. Feeny's fine, fine classes on the subject know that New Zealand is in Italy."

What had Jack gotten himself into?