Piotr was the first of the guys to wake up the next morning, and he was welcomed in the kitchen by an overly boisterous greeting and the smell of fresh pancakes.
"How was your sleep? I had a great first night here. Sometimes I have trouble adjusting to new places, but I had no problems at all, I fell right to sleep and slept like a baby. I made some pancakes. I'm not much of a cook, but pancakes are pretty fool proof. Not that I'm a fool. But when it comes to food, just call me Dopey!" Kitty smiled when he sat down at the counter with a tired frown. "Sorry, I'm being intense. I'm not a morning person, but I wanted to make breakfast, so I made coffee. I generally don't drink coffee because it makes me super jittery, but it comes in handy sometimes, right?"
He rubbed his eyes slowly and shook his head, "You did not have to make breakfast." His deep voice sounded tired and he was doing his best to fight back a yawn.
"I know." She shrugged, flipping a pancake onto a plate, "I wanted to. Kind of like, a thank you. A preview of how awesome of a roommate I'm going to be." She set a stack of pancakes in front of him and plopped down on the counter across from him with a grin.
"You said something about coffee...?"
"Oh!" Her eyes flicked to the coffee pot for a moment before returning to him, "I drank it."
His eyebrows lifted, "You drank an entire pot of coffee?"
"Yeah, but I'm making some more."
"It is not a wonder coffee makes you jittery." He said with a small smirk before pouring syrup on his pancakes.
"Did someone say coffee?" Pyro asked, shuffling over to the kitchen as he rubbed his face in a vein attempt to wake up, "I hope someone said coffee, because I really want some coffee."
He slumped down on the stool next to Piotr and ran a hand through his flaming red hair which was standing up in a variety of different directions.
"I've got a pot on right now." Kitty informed him, dropping a stack of pancakes down in front of him with a self satisfied grin. He dug in without acknowledging the origins of the pancakes, mumbling to himself about strong coffee.
"Rough night at work?" Piotr asked and Pyro frowned, shoveling another forkful of pancakes into his mouth.
Kitty set two coffee mugs down on the counter and brought the coffee pot over to fill them up, "Where do you work?"
Pyro inhaled the scent of freshly brewed coffee with a smile and sighed, "Nowhere. Doesn't matter."
Kitty furrowed her brow and looked at Piotr, "He will not tell us." He informed her, taking a sip of his black coffee.
"I need milk." Pyro grumbled, "And sugar."
"He has had this job for nearly two months and he will still not tell us." Piotr continued, passing Pyro the sugar as Kitty retrieved the milk from the fridge.
"Hmm," She set the milk down on the counter in front of him, "If I guess right, will you tell me?"
He grunted in response and Piotr smirked.
"That's my milk." Remy said suddenly from the end of the hallway. His eyes flicked to the stack of pancakes Kitty had prepared and he frowned, "You didn't use my milk to make these stupid things, did you?"
"Hey!" Kitty put her hands on her hips, "I made these stupid things for you!"
Remy crossed into the kitchen, scooping the cute little milk jug off the counter and mentally weighing it to determine if there was any missing, "This is organic, hormone free, skim milk. It costs three times the garbage you get in the grocery store and it only gets delivered once a week."
Pyro rolled his eyes, "Some of us have more money than brains."
Remy opened the fridge and replaced the jug inside, "If you're going to be living here, we need to cover some kitchen rules."
Piotr grumbled "Here we go." Under his breath and Kitty folded her hands in her lap, giving Remy her undivided attention.
Remy pointed to the top shelf, "The red carton is Pete's milk. It's whole milk, because Piotr is a dirty farm boy who would be just as happy drinking milk directly from the cow."
Kitty cut her eyes to Piotr and he muttered something in Russian. Remy brought Kitty's attention to the second shelf and continued, "This is John's milk. It's one percent, and he only buys it because he thinks the picture of the cow on the front is hot."
"Cute!" Pyro objected, "I said cute!"
Remy gestured to the bottom shelf, where his milk jug was sitting, "This is my milk. These are my organically grown oranges. These are my un-chlorinated baby carrots. This is my unpasteurized yogurt. Get the picture?"
Kitty nodded silently, and Remy shut the fridge door. "My body is a temple, and I treat it as such."
"Don't touch the temple food. Check."
"Monday and Tuesday nights are my nights off work. The kitchen is off limits between 5 and 7 on those nights. I like to prepare my own meals and I don't like people hovering in my space."
Kitty slid her gaze to Pyro and he raised an eyebrow, "Still wanna bunk here?"
She smirked.
"Don't worry love," Pyro continued after with a mouthful of food, "You can use my milk. And Remy's neurosis grows on you, honest."
"I'm not neurotic, I'm just particular." Remy sat down next to Kitty with a plate of pancakes and a bowl of blueberries. "It's not my fault I'm the only one in this place who eats to be in peak performing condition."
Kitty snorted and slid the syrup over to him, "Performing condition? Geeze, where do you work? Are you like, an Olympic baton twirler or something?"
"I don't think that's the type of performing he's talking about." Pyro gave her a pointed look and she frowned,
"Ew."
"Pancakes are carbs." Piotr arched an eyebrow in the direction of Remy's plate, "I have heard your lectures on carbs."
Remy shrugged defensively, "She made the stupid thing for me. I don't want to be rude."
"A minute on the lips, a lifetime on the hips." Pyro teased, "Just be careful, the single moms and gay men have high standards for their eye candy. They aren't going to tip a flabby bartender quite as nicely."
"And then you will have no money to buy your organic food." Piotr pointed at him with his fork, "It is a vicious cycle."
"So you're a bartender." Kitty grinned as she poured Remy's cup of coffee, "Where?"
"Chili's." Pyro answered with a smirk.
"Listen, they pay well, and my customers are very gracious with their tips. Can you say that about your job?" Remy lifted an eyebrow in Pyro's direction.
"I don't have customers. Shut up." Pyro snapped before bowing his head over his plate with a scowl and focusing on eating.
"I thought about being a bartender once, but I couldn't handle all the tricks. I kept dropping bottles..." Kitty said quickly as she poured herself another cup of coffee. "And I know what you're going to say, you don't need to do the bartending tricks like Tom Cruise in Cocktail. But if you're not going to go at it 100%, then what's the point, seriously?"
"You thought about being a bartender?" Remy gave her a skeptical look which slowly morphed into a slightly concerned look, "I feel like we should have covered this earlier, but you do have a job right?"
"Well..." She hesitated for a moment and Remy's look of concern slipped into a frown. "Technically yes. I mean, my manager always gives me awful shifts because he hates me and I end up with crap tips. Plus, I'm not exactly the worlds greatest waitress... which may be why my boss hates me. But don't worry, I'll pay my rent one way or another."
"One way or another?" Remy set his fork down and turned his body to face her with a very serious stare, "I don't accept IOU's, or sexual favors."
"Speak for yourself!" Pyro chimed in, appalled by the very thought of turning away sexual favors.
Kitty scrunched up her nose and knit her brow, "Yuck. I'll get you money. Geeze, just don't talk about that anymore. I'm thinking about finding a second job anyways. I just need some... vocation ideas." She turned her attention to Piotr who had remained relatively quiet for the conversation, and plopped her chin on her fist. "What do you do?"
"I paint."
"Like... houses?"
He smiled, "Artwork."
Her eyebrows perked up with interest, "For reals? And you get paid?"
"Sometimes." He shrugged modestly.
"Bull shit sometimes." Pyro pointed at Kitty with his fork, "He's been hired by dance company to paint a bunch of ballerinas -like they've never heard of a camera before- and they're payin' him a damn pretty penny to do it too."
"Ballerinas?" Kitty's straightened up in her seat, "I wanted to be a ballerina when I was little..."
"Don't even bother Sheila," Pyro shook his head bitterly, "He won't take you to meet 'em. I've asked."
"I wanted to be a painter too, but then I realized I couldn't draw." She shrugged, "Kind of put the kibosh on that career."
"What do you want to do now? You're young... you should be in school." Remy said as he finished up his pancakes.
"I'm 21. Maybe you should go to school." She snapped like an immature teenager before downing her entire mug of coffee in one big gulp.
She snatched the coffee pot away from Remy and re-filled her cup. Before she could bring it to her lips, Remy slapped his hand over her mug and slid it away from her.
"How many have you had?"
"Just a few-"
"She polished off the first pot before I woke up." Piotr said, looking back at her with an apologetic look, "You are going to give yourself an ulcer."
"You're going to give me a headache." Remy moved the mug, far away from her, "I'm cutting you off."
Kitty stuck out her lower lip and pouted, "I was just getting used to the stuff. I can totally handle my coffee."
"Yeah, yeah. Likely story. Want me to call you a cab?"
The other two chuckled and Kitty frowned,
"You suck. I don't understand how you get any tips at work."
He gave her a cheeky little wink and took a big gulp of coffee before saying, "I look really good in my uniform."
The conversation broke up into light chit chat while the group finished up their breakfast. After Kitty put her plate in the sink, she stretched with a content sigh,
"Well, I should go-"
"Shotgun!" Pyro shouted, clamoring off of his stool quickly enough to knock it over onto the white linoleum floor. He zipped across the living room, vaulting over the couch in a well practiced motion before disappearing down the hall and slamming the bathroom door shut behind him.
Kitty blinked at the closed door at the end of the hall with her mouth hanging open a fraction. Remy stood up and dumped his plate and mug into the sink, giving Kitty a pat on the head, "One last kitchen rule; Don't leave any dishes in the sink." He smirked when she turned her befuddled look to him, "I'm next in the bathroom."
When he disappeared into his bedroom, Kitty turned to Piotr. "What the frack?"
He smiled as he stood, putting his plate on top of Remy's in the sink. "Welcome to the apartment. You will get used to fighting for bathroom time."
"Oh, we definitely need to work out a schedule or something. This is totally not going to fly." She frowned, twisting the tap on angrily and letting the sink fill up as she searched for the dish soap.
"A schedule." Piotr let out a laugh, pulling the dish soap out of the cupboard under the sink and setting it on the counter for her. "Good luck with that, Katya."