Hi guys! I swear, I meant to get started on this chapter way sooner, but ive been pretty swamped with work and just life in general. Also I noticed that the line breaks I tried to put in the last chapter didn't work so I'm trying something different. Lets hope second time's the charm. Also! I changed the title from Ursus Amator to Show Me Your Teeth because im #indecisive. Thank the people who reviewed/favorited/followed this fic, you're support means everything. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!
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If there was one thing Honey could always count on to hold true, it was the sheer mindnumbing boredom that came with the first day in a new foster home. He'd managed to eke out a measly hour and a half of nap time before his traitor of a body decided enough was enough. He'd wasted another hour taking all his clothes out of his duffel and filling up his dresser and half the closet, which brought him squarely to the end of his list of time wasting activities with at least another solid two hours of time before dinner could realistically be had.
He opened his phone to surf the internet for a while, but frowned when he remembered he didn't have the wifi password. He flipped through his contacts halfheartedly, knowing there wasn't anyone left that he truly had an desire to keep up contact with. Sighing, he gave up, flopping down on the bed. Just as he was settling down to force himself back into a light doze, someone tapped at his door.
"Yeah?" Honey called out, tone pleasant enough. Internally, he put a tick in his foster parents' favor for knocking rather than trying to barge right in.
"Would you mind running down to the store for me?" Helena asked from the other side of the door. "I was going to make strawberry shortcakes for dessert, but my husband, Wendall, must have gotten into the strawberries last night, and we used all the whipped cream last time."
Honey bit back his initial response, which was to ask why she'd even bother making it when she was missed two thirds of her ingredients. Instead, he got of his bed, pulling his pants back on and shrugging back into his sweater. "Sure, I can do that."
"I'm sorry to bug you," Helena said as Honey pulled his bedroom door open, sounding genuinely regretful. "But Wendall is out of town for a few days, and I'm in the middle of a project."
"Don't sweat it," He shrugged it off, shooting her an easy smile. "I wasn't doing anything, a little adventure should be fun."
Helena handed over a twenty dollar bill, alreaady turning away to disappear up to the third floor. "The Ready-Mart is on the main road, about a ten minute walk to the right."
Honey vaguely recalled passing a building bearing that name on his way into town, and wrinkled his nose. If that tiny thing was the grocery store, he'd hate to see what passed for good retail aroud this shit hole town.
He jogged down the stairs, stopping at the door to put his shoes back on. As soon as he walked out the door, he noticed that the earlier dreary skies had given way to a steadt rain. He briefly considered saying fuck it and turning right back around, but pushed forward, twitching his hood up over his already frizzing hair. It wasn't like he had anthing better to do. Besides, it couldn't hurt to put himself in Helena's good books.
By the time Honey made it to the Ready-Mart, he deeply regretted his decision. There wasn't an inch of him that wasn't cold and wet from the rain. His socks were soaked from underestimating the size of a puddle less than a minute into the walk, and he probably looked like a half-drowned cat, murderous expression and all.
He trudged through the automatic door, silently thanking the gods that the heat was cranked inside. He pushed the hood off his head to stave off any suspicious looks from employees as he made his was to the truly pathetic produce section. Guess he wasn't going to be eating anything exotic or exciting for a while. He put off his scathing internal review for long enough to pick out the package that seems the farthest from rotting, then moved to the back of the store to grab a can of whipped cream. Quest complete, he went up to the cash, setting his purchases down with a light thunk. The cashier, a chubby brunette around his age, gave him a funny look as she scanned his items.
"You're not from around here." She said, more statement than question.
"Ahh, the small town racism is happening already," He noted, a sarcastic little smirk playing at his lips. "And here I thought I'd have to wait a full day before I go to deal with that particular delight."
"Wh- No!" She spluttered, looking absolutely mortified. "I just meant I haven't seen you around school, not-"
Honey waved her off, handing her the $20 . "I know, I was just messing with you. No hard feelings"
The glare she sent him said otherwise as she snatched the bill from his hand, punching it into the register and practically shoving his change at him. Honey took his bag, rolling his eyes. God, some people really couldn't take a joke.
Because his luck was absolute shit on the best of days, Honey ran into with someone on his way out of the way out, the force of the collision enough to knock him on his ass into a puddle of dirty water. The other person, a tall, douchey looking teenager with hard blue eyes and over-gelled black hair, glared down at him.
"Watch it, faggot," He spat, he and his two asshole friends brushing past into the store. Honey forced himself to get up and make his way back to his foster parents' house instead of confronting the guy. Getting into a fight in the middle of a grocery store on his very first day probably wouldn't look good to his new foster parents.
As he walked down the street, he took a deep breath. So he'd run into a few assholes. Every town had a few of them, he'd just found them a ittle earlier than he'd expected. No biggie. Now he knew who he had to avoid. He could handle that. Everything was going to be-
A silver Jeep Wrangler sped past, driving trough a puddle sending up a spray of dirty water that- you guessed it- splashed onto Honey, soaking him to the bone. He stood there for a moment, shocked into stillness, before slowly reaching up to wipe puddle water from his eyes.
He fucking hated this town.
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After a squishy, miserable walk home, Honey trudged up the front steps, kicking off his shoes on the front porch. He made a quick detour to drop off the food in the fridge, leaving the change on a side table in the hall before he his way up to the second floor. He walked down the hall and stood at the bottom of the stairs leading to the mysterious third floor.
"Helena?" He called up, managing to keep his general annoyance out of his voice. Helena appeared at the top of the stairs. At first she seemed confused, but one look at her bedragled form had her eyebrows flying up her forehead as she bustled down the stairs.
"Oh dear, I didn't realize it was raining that hard, or I would have just driven over myself. I'm sorry, sweetie." She apologized.
"Don't worry about it, this is on some passing motorist, not the rain," Honey waved it off, supressing a wince at the petname. A little familiar for his tastes, but nothing to raise a stink over. "I was just hoping to take a shower, but I don't know where anything is."
"Oh, right! It must have completely slipped my mind earlier." She passed him, leading him, surpisingly, into his bedroom. Helena went over to a door he'd completely ignored when he'd first settled in, leading to his own bathroom. It wasn't anthing too extravagant, just a toilet, sink, and shower/bathtub, but it was more than he'd ever had before.
"Face cloths and towels are under the sink, I think we have some extra body wash, shampoo and conditioner under there, if you want to use that until we can get to a store," Helena instructs, before frowning at his wet clothes. "Do you want me to wash those, or would you rather handle that yourself."
"I can do it, but thank you for offering," Honey answered, appreciating being given the option. The last time he'd let a foster mother wash his clothes for him, he'd never seen them again, replaced with frilly dresses and conservative floral blouses.
"Okay, sounds good. If you need me, I'll be downstairs," Helena said before leaving the room, giving Honey his privacy.
Honey quickly undressed, dumping his wet clothes in the conveniently placed hamper and laying out a towel. He turned the water onto almost max heat, letting it heat up before he stepped under the spray. All the tension seemed to bleed from his as soon as the water hit his skin. He tipped his head back, letting it soak his bedragled curls. God bless modern comforts.
Honey must have spent close to a half hour in the stall, washing up for a while, but mostly just enjoying the steam and warmth. When he finally managed to drag himself out, he wrapped up in the fluffy black towel and padded out to his bedroom, noting happily that Helena had closed his door on the way out. He dried himself off thoroughly before changing into a loose black t-shirt and navy blue sweats from some high school he'd attended a few foster homes ago. He eyed his bed, tempted to lay down and do nothing for until supper was called, but decided against it. He really wasn't in the mood to be alone with his thoughts. Instead, he left his room, following the sounds of activity down to the kitchen. May as well make himself useful. Besides, he'd always wanted to learn how to cook.
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Hi guys! Sorry it's so goddamn short, but it's been lingering in my WIPs for over a week and I wanted to bang it out. I was gonna include the dinner scene and introduce Wendall, but... meh. Not the most exciting shit. Next update will be Honey's first day of school, so that's exciting! Also, three guesses who was driving that Wrangler ;)