hello again reader, glad to see you. you must be a person of some class to be reading Johnny Bravo x Carl Chryniszzwics slash, bravo to you for that at least. by the way, have you ever attempted to pronounce carl's last name out loud? if not, you should try it now. it's a mouthful, and you probably didnt even say it right. it looks like krin-iz-wicks, right? wrong. krin-iss-izz-witz. who woulda thunk? not me, at least. anyways, read on.
Johnny allowed himself to be pulled to the kitchen, and he plunked himself down in a tall chair by a stainless steel countertop, one of many. The kitchen was industrial-size, and it reminded him a bit of the kitchen from the shining... yeah, it was almost exactly like that, he mused- a bit perturbed by the strange connection he'd made, but not exactly worried.
His gaze traveled back over to Carl, who was speaking as he put the teapot on to boil.
"So, as for the supply list it would mostly round down to the things I mentioned earlier at Pop's plus a couple different sealants and preserving agents, and then detail stuff like a pair of glass eyes," he counted off on his fingers, then thought better of himself and grabbed a notepad from a drawer close to him.
He flipped the page from a shopping list to a blank one, then after scribbling a few bullet points slapped it down on the table in front of Johnny, thought it was still facing towards Carl, who turned back around and inspected the teapot, which had some steam coming out the top now.
Johnny leaned back on his chair, not used to the sudden domesticity of the setting. Usually it was tricks or hilarious escapades between the two of them, not making tea in Carl's kitchen and looking over supply lists for personal projects.. it was strange to be creating something together. But speaking of the actual creating aspect of the job...
"So, Carl, you mentioned some sort of payment earlier. What'd you mean by that?" he asked as the teapot began to whistle.
Carl responded, still not facing him. "Well, as for a payment or reward," he paused to pour the tea into two tall mugs with some effort showing in his shaking arms, "it all comes down to how much you end up contributing." he turned back around, a mug clutched in each hand, and passed one to Johnny, their fingers brushing momentarily.
Johnny held the mug in his hands, its warmth penetrating into his skin in a comforting sort of way. "Well, I've, er, never been one for schematics. More of a doer, really," he hemmed, attempting to figure out any sort of payment system that could work for a project like this.
Carl looked at him in an amused sort of way, as if he could see the wheels turning in his head. He chuckled. "I was thinking more we just figure out that sort of thing after the project is over with, and we haggle the price until we've got it where we want it."
Johnny considered for a moment, then tipped his head in agreement. Carl was intensely rich and he made no secret of it, this could be an opportunity to make some good money- if he didn't go crazy before payday, that is.
Carl reached out his hand. "So, partner, have we got a deal?" he laughed, obviously seriously expecting Johnny to shake on it.
Who was he to deny him? He reached out and clasped hands with Carl, their palms making flat contact as they held tight to each other for a moment that felt at once eternally, mind-numbingly long, and much too short for Johnny's liking.
He leaned back. Their hands had both been warmed by the mugs, which had cooled considerably since they were poured. With that in mind, he took a sip and his senses were submerged in an aromatic blend of floral notes and something smokey, like drinking the way tobacco smells. It had depth, and it was a bit of a mouth journey too- it was rich in every since of the word and he found himself loving it. He took another sip, melting into it the way he could melt into his bed after a long day. He almost sighed.
Carl too was enjoying his tea, though now that Johnny noticed he was also scratching something down onto the notepad.
Suddenly, something was thrust at him.
"Here's my number, could I get yours?" Carl inquired casually, taking a sip.
Johnny's face reddened in surprise and bemusement, before he realized what Carl meant. Exchanging contacts for business purposes only- though it seemed as though he realized a bit late, as Carl recognized his facial expression and was laughing.
"Hah! Your face when I-" he wheezed, doubling over onto the table. "you should have seen it!" he laughed again, sobering slightly though still grinning. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Casanova." he chuckled as he watched Johnny hurriedly scribble his own number onto the notepad.
"Here, you little geek." he grumbled, sliding the paper over. Though, he couldn't really be mad at Carl while holding the best cup of tea he'd ever had in his life in his hand. It was a little bit funny, he supposed. He sipped his tea again, and suddenly it was empty.
Carl noticed that his tea was done with, and stood to grab both mugs. He placed them in a sink, then, still smiling, looked over at Johnny.
"C'mon, I'll walk you out."
The two men walked in silence through winding halls. Again, Johnny was reminded of The Shining as they passed door after closed door.
"So." Carl began.
"So." Johnny repeated.
"Do you think it would be possible for you to come by tomorrow at, say, four P.M. sharp?" Carl asked, facing Johnny.
"Er, yeah." Johnny answered, reminding himself that Carl valued punctuality.
"Excellent!" Carl exclaimed, clapping his hands. "it's a date, then!"
Johnny choked, then regained his composure, reminding himself of the reward that was coming if he didn't mess things up too bad. "Er, sure. So it is." he mumbled, something rolling over inside of his chest. He shivered.
They approached the door.
"So, remember! Four P.M., alright? See you then, buddy!" Carl all but shouted as he waved Johnny off. Johnny waved back with a weak smile, but as soon as the door closed the smile faded and his hand dropped, then found its way into his pocket where he clutched the number of a certain geek, remembering the smokey depth of the tea and the feeling of a small, warm hand in his.