Okay, I have decided to rewrite the Cereals series, because they're just not long enough. Eventually I'll tie them all together, and who knows what happens then? I might actually make a not-quite-so-pointless story out of this.
Slightly: Pray to God she doesn't.
Shut up.
"Dutchy! I can't eat this! This is unhealthy!" Specs Allen exclaimed, staring down at the bowl his best friend had placed in front of him. He was a tall, with curly dark brown hair that he usually hid under a fedora, but seeing as he had just woken up, he wasn't. Dutchy Durecht, tall, and gangly, with silky, surfer-boy blonde hair, rolled his piercing blue eyes, which were hidden behind half-moon glasses.
"It's Cheerios, Specs. It's good for your heart!" he replied, dropping a spoon unceremoniously into his bowl. Specs was a health fanatic to the extreme, and Dutchy, who had known him for four years, did not put up with his friend's oddities. Sure, he wouldn't feed Specs a cheese burger, but he wasn't going to listen to him complain about healthy cereal not being healthy enough.
"But it's Honey Nut Cheerios!" Specs retorted, sliding the bowl away, defiantly. "It's full of sugar!" Dutchy rolled his eyes again.
"Specs, eat it, or be doomed to go hungry 'till noon,' Dutchy warned, waggling a finger under Specs's nose. He poured himself a glass of milk, ignoring Specs's long-suffering sigh.
Specs had stayed the night after a long party. Now the poor health-fanatic was being threatened with the prospect of sugars. He sat on a stool in nothing but plaid sleep pants, staring through his round glasses in horror at the bowl of Cheerios and two percent milk. Specs looked up at Dutchy, who was leaning back against the sink, sipping his milk, and watching Specs expectantly. Specs glared at him, suspiciously.
"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"
"Yes, absolutely, I am trying to kill you, Specs, because the fact that you've been my best friend for four straight years means nothing," Dutchy sighed, setting down his milk. He pushed away from the counter and walked around it and behind Specs. He picked up the spoon, loaded with the soggy rings, and coaxingly held it under Specs's lips.
Knowing that it was pointless, and silently repenting of all his sins in case he died from the accursed cereal, he obediently opened his mouth, and Dutchy pressed the spoon through his best friend's parted lips. Smiling, Dutchy wiped a few drops of stray milk from his chin, and his thumb came to rest on Specs's lower lip.Specs stared up at Dutchy, his brown eyes wide. Dutchy was staring at his lips, entranced, his thumb still resting on the lower. Specs's younger sister, Darla, had a tendency to inform him of girly, no-one-needs-to-know-that information, and she had once told him that if someone stares at your lips, it means they want to kiss you.
Figuring that since they had been friends for so long, Dutchy wouldn't freak out too bad if he was wrong, and praying that he wasn't wrong, Specs leaned up and pressed his lips against Dutchy's, savoring the warm, tingly sensation in the pit of his stomach as Dutchy wrapped his arms around his waist. As he pushed his tongue into Dutchy's mouth, he made a mental note to get Darla the video game she wanted so bad. A thought occurred to Specs, and it made him smile against Dutchy's lips.
Dutchy was right—Cheerios are good for your heart.