For Cloudlestorm
Like Waffles and Syrup
Mike stood at the end of the diner with his arms over his chest. He sighed and rolled his eyes as Chuck manned the "Do It Yourself" Waffle station. "Chuck-"
"Ssssh!" Chuck warned and waved his arm to get Mike to stop talking. "You have to time this perfectly Waffles are delicate things and they are temperature sensitive," he whispered as he stared at the waffle iron.
"Remind me to never go to brunch with you again," Mike mumbled sarcastically under his breath.
"What was that?" Chuck asked, looking away for a moment and then yelped as he realized he wasn't watching the iron and turned back, hutching over the maker.
"Nothing," Mike said with affection. "I'll go get us a booth."
"Yeah, okay," Chuck agreed with another wave, dismissing Mike from his side.
Mike shook his head and chuckled as he lowered his arms and stalked off in search of a table for two.
He found one on the far end of the diner. There was a large fake tree next to it, it's branches blocking Mike's view of the breakfast bar, which at the moment, might be a good thing otherwise he might spend the entire time staring at his blond and worrying about him.
Mike slid into the side of the booth and stretched, enjoying the feeling of his muscles moving and waited for Chuck to return.
He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until there was a loud clatter as Chuck plopped down four plates stacked with waffles.
"BAM! Perfection!" The blond announced triumphantly.
"Good going, Chuckles," Mike said in silent awe.
"It's a gift." Chuck replied with pride and flopped down on the seat opposite Mike and pulled the plate to him.
"It takes years to get the timing right, not to mention the thickness of the batter and the type of grill used and-"
"-And forks?" Mike prompted with a smirk.
Chuck stopped mid-sentence and looked down at the table. There were in fact no eating utensils on it.
"Well, no one's perfect," Chuck huffed.
Mike spied a bus boy passing thru with more plates and silverware for the breakfast bar and discretely grabbed them a pair of forks.
"What was that about perfection?"
"Well you aren't just anyone." Chuck pointed out with a blush and took the fork.
"Ain't that the truth," Mike replied with a little laugh and which turned into a full blown chuck at the pouty look on Chuck's face, pouted with his mouth full of steamy waffle.
They ate their perfectly made waffles (Chuck eating two and a half plates, to Mike's one) and leaving the leftovers (which Chuck ate in the car on the drive home, despite Mike's protests.)
Mike parked Mutt next to Stronghorn as usual and turned off the engine, only to be startled by the sound of Chuck snores as he slept in his seat.
"You really are something else," Mike said and looked around to see if any of the other Burners were around before he leaned over and unbuckled Chuck from his six point safety belt.
The blond moaned slightly and leaned again Mike's chest and Mike felt a blush grow over his face. Chuck smelled of waffle batter and syrup and bacon. An affectionate smile tugged on Mike's face and he allowed himself to hug the boy close to him for a second before pulling away and shaking the boy awake.
Chuck wake slowly, as if he didn't really want to and would have been happy sleeping the rest of the weekend away in Mutt.
"Mmmmm," Chuck hummed and stretched. "I can't believe I ate all of those waffles!"
"I can, because I was there," Mike commented.
Chuck looked over at him. "Yeah, thanks for that, by the way," he said, suddenly going shy. "I've been wanting to get you there for a while now, but I, you know. I'm not really good when it comes to stuff like this."
Mike's lips turn down in a frown and his eyes narrowed in confusion. "To eating waffles?" he asked playfully, wanting to see his friend smile again.
"No, the asking people out part," Chuck admitted and bit down on his lower lip as the words left his mouth.
Mike's eyebrow lifted and disappeared into his hairline as his eyes widened in realization. "This was a date?"
"Maybe?" Chuck asked in return.
"Was it or wasn't it?" Mike demanded.
"I wanted it to be!" Chuck answered quickly.
"Good, I wanted it to be too," Mike confessed and watched as Chuck's slightly scared face shifted into his usual nervous grin.
"You did?" Chuck asked unbelievably.
It was Mike's turn to look flustered. "Well, yeah man. I mean, we'd make a great pair. Like Waffles and syrup," he added lamely.
Chuck's face turned red with a blush. "Yeah, I think so too."
